AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We’re handling it. And we have the resources to shut them down, so let us do our jobs. Stop playing Harriet the Spy, or your next room with a view looks out on Guantánamo Bay. ”
Riley stood up and stalked for the door, and her tactical team leader opened it for her, then followed her out. There were no good-byes. Bryn made sure they left, sealed the gates, turned on the security, locked the front door, and then went to the kitchen.
Liam was gone. It was just Patrick and Annie, and three empty mugs cooling on the table.
“Did you hear it?” she asked.
Patrick nodded. “I thought you’d want us watching. ” He pointed toward the security monitors, one of which now showed a view of the office. The camera was pointed toward the desk, and it would have shot over Bryn’s shoulder, straight on Riley. “In my opinion, she knew nothing about the murders. She knew something, but she had no idea those people had been killed. It came as a shock. ”
“She’s scared,” Bryn said. “It’s spinning out of control, and she knows it. No matter how many FBI agents she’s running, it’s not enough to keep everyone safe. She can’t shadow everyone twenty-four/seven, and even though she didn’t say it, I think more have to be missing. It’s bigger than just three people. ”
Annalie looked from one of them to the other, and then asked, “Um…sorry. What exactly does that mean? Isn’t she in charge or something? How can she not know?”
“There’s no such thing as being in charge of something like this. Someone up the chain of command could be lying to her, and she’d never know. That’s what she’s afraid of—that someone, somewhere, within her organization has decided her operation is a threat to national security and is mopping it up. FBI agents can disappear just as effectively as the Revived did. ” Patrick looked straight at Bryn and said, “We can trust her, and take our chances that she can keep it together, or go around her. Either way, it’s risky. ”
“It’s not a choice,” Bryn said. “We have to take care of each other now. ”
Annie tried a smile. “Yay?”
Bryn grabbed her hand where it lay on the table and squeezed it tight. “Yay,” she said. “We’re going to be all right. ”
She almost believed it herself.
Almost.
Riley’s visit had taken any chance of romantic encounters with Patrick off the table, which was yet another thing to resent about her intrusion. Bryn spent the rest of the evening poring over paperwork, gathering names, files, everything she could on every single Revived individual she could—a task made somewhat easier by Patrick’s help, because he’d kept duplicates of a lot of the personnel records out of Pharmadene when he’d been employed by them. By two in the morning, they had at least a partial picture of the individuals the FBI had sworn to protect.
Failed to protect.
“It isn’t good,” Patrick said, once he’d finished compiling the information. “Out of the fifty-two Revived we absolutely know survived out of Pharmadene, seven of them have dropped off the radar—no cell phone, home phone, or credit card activity. It’s been gradual, maybe one a week. They’re just—going dark. Slipping away. ”
“Is Jason one of them?”
“Yes. ”
There were, Bryn estimated, about two hundred total Revived out there…counting her and Annie. If the proportions held true, at least fifteen more had dropped out of sight over the past three months. One after another, going out like lightbulbs.
“Somebody’s got access to the master lists from the FBI,” Bryn said. “Or they’ve put things together with other insider information. ”
“Not necessarily. If they’re concentrating on Pharmadene employees, all they need is an old, publicly available organizational chart. ” He pulled one up from when he was head of security and began marking off names. “Right, the red X marks are those I know died or left Pharmadene before the drugs were administered. ” That was about fifteen people. “These are the confirmed dead from the explosion at the Civic Theatre. Public records. ” He used blue X marks for those. “This is what we have left. ”
It was about 250 names, but Bryn knew all those couldn’t have survived the process of Revival; even with reformulated drugs, the success rate wasn’t perfect. No way to know which of those names had survived and which hadn’t. Riley had that information, but she wouldn’t share. Bryn looked over the names on the org chart, then focused on Jason Drake. Patrick drew a green circle around his name.
“He’s at the top,” Bryn said.
“No, he’s in the third tier,” Patrick said. “A minor VP, not—”
“But he’s at the top of those who survived. What if they’re cherry-picking from the top? Those would be the ones most likely to have information about the drugs, right?”
“Maybe. But the science department employees would be a better bet. ”
There were twelve apparent survivors under the research and development departmental structure—maybe ten who’d actually made it through Revival, Bryn estimated. “Maybe they did both,” she said. “Anyone in this department go dark recently?”
Patrick matched names to records and circled two: Marjorie Dass and Chandra Patel. He brought up photographs. Dass was one of the women on the Graydon surveillance video—the first victim to burn. Patel wasn’t, which put her on the list of missing, not dead. Not yet.
“We should focus our resources on Patel,” Patrick said. “If she’s our most recent abduction, and it seems she is from the records, then that’s the freshest trail. …What is it?”
“Chandra,” Bryn said, and took in a deep breath. “I know her. She’s one of mine. She’s in the support group. She and Jason got to be pretty close friends. ” Her chest felt heavy under the press of anxiety, and she scribbled down a fast list of names and handed it to him. “Check these names—it’s the rest of the group I’ve spoken with. ”
