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59
GEORGETOWN
WASHINGTON, D.C.
SAVICH HOUSE
FRIDAY EVENING
Yet again Savich saw Sherlock looking at their bed. She was wearing a robe over her tiger stripes, a rarity.
She turned slowly to him. Her face was scrubbed clean, her blue eyes were shadowed. She’d combed the rich red nimbus of hair back from her face and he saw the small Band-Aid over her left temple. Savich said from the bathroom doorway, “You look like a teenager, which has to make me a dirty old man.”
She blinked. To his surprise and pleasure, she laughed. “Nah, not with you looking so hot in those black boxers and black T-shirt. Hot and buff. Do I tell you that a lot?”
He wanted to jump her, truth be told, but he didn’t move. “Yes, you do. Do you know we always try to go to the gym together?” The shower, too, but he didn’t mention it. “You’re getting good at karate. You’ve moved smartly forward for six years.”
“What belt am I?”
“Well, we haven’t formalized your belts, since I’m your teacher, but I’d put you right up there in a solid gold.”
“Gold belt? I never heard of that.”
“It was created only for you.”
She smiled, but it fell off her face. “I didn’t recognize Sean’s voice.”
He saw misery in her eyes. They’d spoken to Sean together for the first time, an hour before. His grandmother had let him stay up late to watch a Spider-Man movie with her and Senator Monroe, who’d asked Sean to call him Uncle Bob. And when he’d left, Savich’s mother had allowed Sean to call them to say good night. To Savich’s ear, Sherlock had sounded natural, pleased to hear from her son, telling him he’d be staying with his grandmother a bit longer, she was still contagious, and no way would she take the chance of making him sick. Yes, she was better now. Not much longer. She missed him.
He said, “You’ll remember his whining before bedtime soon enough. Are you ready for bed?”
“What about Justice?”
“I checked him before I took a shower. He was sound asleep, blissed out on the pain meds Dr. Breaker gave him. Ned said they could hold him for the night.”
“Having a doctor willing to come here to the house. Now that’s impressive.”
“I keep telling Ned the debt—if there ever was one, which there wasn’t—was paid in full years ago. He tells me to shut up, that when I call him for help, he knows he’s in for some excitement. He said Justice will be fine in another couple of days. He also thought Justice will be thinking more clearly when he’s not so distracted with pain. He seemed well enough at dinner, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but I wish he’d eaten more. Dillon, he was so frightened and paranoid this afternoon, inviting him here was a great idea when he turned down going to Quantico. Have we ever done this before? Brought someone to stay with us?”
“Before we were married, I brought you here, but that’s another story.” He paused a moment. “Thank you for letting Ned check the stitches in your head and do a quick neurological exam.”
Sherlock nodded, touched the fresh Band-Aid over her temple. “He’s kind, a good doctor. It’s nice to get a clean bill of health. Well, almost.”
“You told him the truth? No more headaches?”
“Only a few, but they’re less and less and not nearly as bad. Don’t worry, Dillon.”
Savich’s cell chimed with a text message. He walked over and read it quickly. “Good. That’s the message I’ve been waiting for. MAX broke the encryption on Bodine’s file.” He picked up his laptop. “Shall we take a look together at what MAX has got?”
She fluffed up four pillows, something she’d always done, and climbed in bed. She patted the space beside her.
Savich typed in his access codes, opened to Quint Bodine’s Documents file. He scrolled through only briefly before he saw one labeled Project C. He settled in beside Sherlock, opened the file.
July 2: Subject K starts to show a bit of promise, with the new combination of drugs. At least she is willing to interact with Cyndia, watches old movies with her. She is rewarded, of course, with her favorite kettle corn and a movie of her choice, usually one of those absurd horror films. I pray she will be able to move forward as Cyndia expects, but I have strong doubts. She responds well to the medications, they keep her settled and calm, and I hope they don’t mask her abilities, if indeed she has any. Whether Subject K understands what Cyndia expects of her is another question entirely.
July 27: Subject M continues to be mutinous, won’t cooperate, refuses to make eye contact, and continues to stare straight and ignore us, even Cyndia. She doesn’t seem to care about any pain and the drugs knock her out, so there’s no benefit at all. A poor choice, despite rumors of her odd abilities. She tried to escape yet again. Must decide what more we can do with her. I am not certain—
