Echo 8 (14 page)

“I came to Seattle to assess the potential for a covert operation,” said Garcia. “Specifically to assess the potential of yourself, Agent McGinnis, and Echo 8 as our first participants.”

This was exactly what Tess and Goff had feared would come of the Bureau's involvement—and the reason she had resented Ross almost on sight.

“Covert operation,” she replied evenly. “That's more than classified? Something the rest of the government doesn't know about.”

“That's right,” said Ross. He was seated next to her, and she felt his foot slowly slide against hers. Was it meant to be reassurance, or warning?

“The Bureau is interested in working more closely with Echoes,” continued Garcia.

“
With
Echoes? I thought your agency was more concerned with containment. With eradication.”

Garcia didn't flinch. “Our interest is public safety, first and foremost.”

“I see.” She didn't bother to filter the skepticism from her tone.

Garcia continued like he hadn't noticed. “I'm here because I'm very interested in the work you've been doing with Echo 8. In the method you discovered for keeping him alive.”

She felt Ross stiffen beside her. “There was no need to exile Dr. Carmichael for that,” she said. “I'm eager to tell you about my work.”

“Ross may have told you that I'd also like you to work with him on sharpening his ability. We're specifically interested in remote location.”

“He did mention your interest in his psi ability. I'm happy to work with him. But I'm not sure that should take precedence over our current crisis.”

“The two are related, Doctor. First of all, there are a number of targets we'd like to track using Ross's ability.”

Her gut tightened. “Targets?”

“We'd like to see if he can learn to locate Echoes, which I'm sure you'll agree is in the interest of public safety.”

“I believe it is in the interest of
our
safety. I'm not so sure about
them
. It depends on what you plan to do once you find them.”

“We plan to recruit them.”

She blinked at him, confused.

“We have something they need, and you've discovered a safe way to give it to them. We offer to sustain them, and they agree to work with us.”

“Work with us to…?”

She risked a glance at Ross, wondering how long before he told the director about the dislocation. Impassive as his expression appeared, she could see the tension in his jaw muscles.

“To help us address a problem,” continued Garcia. “Or a series of problems. We have a list of individuals who pose a threat to national security. We believe Echoes could be very effective in helping us neutralize them.”

National security
. It was a sort of magic password these days. But she still couldn't get her brain around this. She wasn't sure if it was fatigue or the words the director was using. She glanced again at Ross, and by his expression—the relaxing of his jaw muscles, the narrowing of his gaze—she knew that he was ahead of her.

“Black ops,” he said quietly. “Echoes kill without weapons.”

Tess's gaze jerked back to Garcia, the frozen gears in her brain finally spinning free.

“We can send them anywhere,” said the director. “They can look just like us, or they can be almost invisible, as the situation requires. They are lethal, and we can train them to be precise.”

“No collateral damage,” continued Ross.

“Exactly. And what they do doesn't look like a hit.”

Ross straightened in his chair. “It's not really our purview, is it? State-sponsored assassination.”

“Historically, no,” replied Garcia. “It's not precisely within our jurisdiction. The operation will be a cross-agency collaboration. But as the agency with the most experience dealing with Echoes, we're taking the lead.”

Her gaze moved between them, jaw frozen stupidly open. It was far beyond what she'd originally feared.

“Why is it necessary to go around constitutional process?” she asked weakly, knowing it was pointless.

Garcia folded his arms over his chest. “Some of them have proved too elusive for capture. With others, we've given up hope of ever procuring enough evidence for the desired outcome at trial.”

“Doctor,” continued Garcia, “what we're offering you is an opportunity to serve your country while doing the work you want to do. We're giving you a chance to save Echoes.”

She swallowed her rising panic.
You're the expert here
.
That's why they're consulting you
.

“What makes you think they'll do it?” she asked. “They're not killers. They're no different from us.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow. “They
are
killers, Doctor. And I'm not worried about their compliance.”

Understanding clamped its jaws over her heart. “You don't intend to give them a choice.”

“Live or die. That's a choice.”

She took a measured breath and steadied herself. It was Garcia's job to be forceful and confident. To bowl her over with his presence and authority. But a mouse chewing a corner of a flour sack could work a world of mischief.

“There are holes in this scheme, Director. Deadly ones.”

He gave her a thin smile that raised chill bumps on her arms. “Like how do we manage them in the field? What's to stop them from running? From killing other people? It's all I think about. And now it's your job to think about it too.”

Before the protest made it out of her mouth, Ross inserted, “Director, we've discovered the transfers have a dangerous side effect.”

It squeezed her heart to think about how this revelation was going to affect Jake, but as much as she had grown to care for him, the situation had always been much bigger than a single Echo. For the moment she and Ross were on the same side again.

“Oh?” replied Garcia, finally looking less like the man with all the answers.

“Yes, sir.” Ross glanced at Tess.

“Last night I dislocated to Jake's Earth.”

Garcia's mouth opened, but he shook his head. “Explain.”

Ross elaborated on the dislocation, omitting what had immediately preceded it.

Garcia sat staring at the table for a full minute before replying. “That must have been terrifying, Doctor.”

“It was.”
Almost as terrifying as what's going on in this room
.

“It's a shocking development. One that bears further investigation.”

She could feel the energy of Ross's tension, stronger than when they'd first sat down.

“We wouldn't want to subject you to that again personally, Doctor. But…”

She practically hovered in her seat, waiting for his next words, but when he continued he said, “Why don't you look in on your subject, Doctor. I have a few things to discuss with Agent McGinnis. We'll reconvene for lunch.”

Surprised by the sudden dismissal, she studied him as she rose to her feet. Like Ross he was a master of blunted affect, but she didn't think she was imagining the change to the light in his eyes.

He's already thinking about how he can use this
.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Garcia said.

Unequal to the task of returning a courteous reply, she simply turned to go. She felt Ross's gaze on her back until the door closed between them.

The brain gremlins returned as she walked toward the lab. She needed someone to talk to—someone she could trust. She needed Abby! She couldn't help feeling her whole life had just changed over bagels and coffee. The director had been polite and professional—had expended energy to persuade her—but were they really giving her a choice? Or had choice exited the building at the use of words like “covert operation” and “national security”?

And what about Jake and
his
choice? Her heart beat out ahead of her body as she neared the lab. He would be suffering by now, and dangerous to feed. But if she didn't, they'd lose him. Despite what Garcia had said about sparing her, she didn't want anyone else conducting energy transfers until she could learn more about the dislocations.

She was relieved to see fresh faces in the corridor—agents who probably hadn't had any orders from Ross to keep her away. Pulling her shoulders back and hardening her expression, she strode purposefully toward the lab door.

As soon as one of the agents glanced up she said, “I'm Dr. Caufield. I'll need you to stay alert while I interact with the subject.”

Both agents straightened, but neither tried to stop her. She noticed the door had been crudely reinforced with bars fitted into hooks and brackets at the top and bottom.

She pushed the intercom button. “I'm sorry, Jake.”

He rose slowly from the cot, crossing the floor like it pained him.

“I'm the one who should apologize,” he said, joining her at the glass. “I'm sorry about last time. I was trying to be a hero, but since then I've remembered that ‘selfish bastard' is what I do best. I'm glad you're back.”

“Let's take care of you. Then we'll talk.”

“Where's your Fed?”

“There are two agents with me in the hallway.” She held up her hand to the glass. “I know you were trying to scare me yesterday, but what you did took amazing control. You can do this.”

Jake heaved a tired sigh, but he raised his hand.

After a moment she frowned. “I don't feel anything.”

“That's because I'm pinching the hose.”

“That's great, Jake. Now just let go a little. You need this transfer.”

“You don't have to tell me, Doc.”

She moved her hand closer to the glass, letting the pads of her fingers touch. Slowly his hand flattened against the other side. Now she could feel it, like pinpricks all over her body.

“You've made huge progress over the last twenty-four hours.”

“I finally realized when it comes to pigheaded you're in a whole different league.”

She smiled.

Don't look so damn pleased with yourself.

It took a moment to sink in that his mouth hadn't moved.

“Jake, did you just—?”

Maybe we should keep it our little secret.

Her gaze cut to the agent a couple feet away, but he was staring at the opposite wall.

What's going on, Doc
?
Feels like you've got about a hundred Super Balls bouncing around in your head.

Her thoughts had quieted when the transfer began, but now she'd spun back up to full speed. She recognized the value of this moment. Ross and Garcia closeted together. New agents who didn't answer to Ross. This might be her only chance. It might be Jake's only chance.

It was risky, to herself and potentially to others. But no more so than the Bureau's back-alley agenda.

We have to get out of here
, she told him.

His brow furrowed. “
We” as in…?

You and me. Things are changing. The FBI director is here. They want to turn you into an assassin, and they're going to force me to help them.

Whoa, Doc. Are you sure about this?

Yes. And we don't have time to argue.

Much as I'd love to go all Bonnie and Clyde with you, they're not going to let us walk out of here. You know that.

They will. All we have to do is get you out of this room. We have to stop the transfer now. We need you faded.

What? Why?

Theoretically you should be able to walk through this door
. The second point of no return she'd crossed. Or third. She'd lost count.

The drip of the energy transfer slowed.
Come again?

Bullets go through you. That suggests walls can too. You must be manipulating energy to interact with your surroundings. You're doing it involuntarily. I'm betting you can voluntarily
stop
doing it.

Doctor, I don't know.
But he gave the window a shove with the palm of his hand.

Don't think about pushing against it. Think about it not being there. For you, that door is nothing more than a habit.

He closed his eyes, and she watched the rise and fall of his breathing. She pulled her hand away from the glass—and gasped as his hand followed it through.

It had puzzled everyone on the task force that none of the confined Echoes had ever done this. She suspected it came down to being stuck in a certain way of thinking. They believed they needed to interact with a knob to open a door, so they did. She'd agreed with the others it would be irresponsible to ever raise the topic with one of their subjects. Until now.

The rest of Jake followed his hand, and there was a shout and a gunshot. The bullet passed through Jake's chest and punched through the door.

“Come on!” she cried.

She took off at a run, the heels of her shoes slapping against the hardwood, and assumed Jake was behind her. The shouts of the other agents would soon draw Ross and Garcia, so there was no more time for talk.

She headed for the back exit, where they pushed past another startled agent. But the woman caught Tess's arm and jerked her backward.

“Jake!”

He reached for the agent, just grazing her shoulder with his hand, but it was enough to stun her and shake loose her grip.

Tess scrambled to her feet, and they sprinted down the sidewalk. She had no purse, no money … nothing but the clothes on her back. Luckily she lost her keys at least once a week, so there was a spare hidden under the fender.

 

J
AKE

“In THAT direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.”