Lethal Misconduct (13 page)

“You’re going to be okay, son,” Cromwell had said.

And he was, for the most part.

Vespers contracted numerous inflictions due to his captivity and the fact that his captors made him eat his own feces as they stood back and laughed. Hepatitis. Giardia. But the most damaging effect was to contract a never-before-discovered strain of congenital analgia. In its most common form, the disease is typically discovered at birth and precludes the infected from feeling pain or even hot and cold. The majority of those with congenital analgia never live past their twenties. But while the traditional disease puts the afflicted at risk due to the inability to realize they’re hurt, Vespers experienced a muted form.

Instead of not feeling pain, the sensation normally associated with pain was merely dulled. During his rehabilitation, he found he could push himself further than before. Cromwell said he’d been given a gift, a new superpower. Vespers believed him.

So when the Secret Service terminated his employment and denied any sort of compensation due to the scandal he and his comrades had started in Nigeria (three others were forced to resign along with the advanced team leader), it was Col. Cromwell who’d been there for him. He’d offered him a job, citing a need for someone who knew the ins and outs of security.

Vespers didn’t hesitate. He accepted on the spot. From that day on he was Cromwell’s man. Much like the Luca Brasi character was to Don Corleone in
The Godfather
, Vespers became a pillar in Cromwell’s empire. A loyal companion. A ruthless enforcer. An unquestioning sentinel at his master’s side.

Vespers smiled as he got into his rented Toyota Camry. Another successful mission. His master would be happy.

Chapter 21

Washington, D.C.

8:27am, April 9
th

Senator Thompson’s good mood was gone. He’d spent the previous night with his son. They’d begun with a movie and then moved on to dinner and drinks at one of Michael’s favorite hangouts. Thompson had watched as his son kidded with friends and just looked…alive. He’d found it hard not to stop from crying, so great was his relief. If only his wife could have shared that moment with them.

But now everything was starting to unravel. Cromwell reported that Price had somehow made it down to Colombia with a team of unknown operatives and miraculously escaped the ambush. Cromwell’s competence was waning in Thompson’s eyes, but the senator had to be careful. The crafty colonel knew too much, had his fingers on too many strings.

Not that he, Senator Mac Thompson, would admit to it.
He
was the senator,
not
Cromwell.

Things had moved too fast after Price’s discovery. There hadn’t been time to insulate himself with the layers needed to escape possible culpability. He’d have to be careful. There had to be a way he could outmaneuver all sides and come out on top. It’s what he did. It’s what he’d always done.

He stared at the picture of him and his son on his desk. Luckily Michael would never have to know, would never have to make the same sacrifices his father had. At least he’d have a chance at a normal life. If all went to plan, their life would be set. Michael would never have to work. Sen. Thompson had even considered retiring from public office and traveling the world with his boy.

But deep down something told him that wouldn’t happen. He loved the game too much. Thompson played politics just as he had baseball, with a great deal of skill and smattering of self-induced luck. Well, at least he’d come out on top. He’d never won a World Series ring, but he was convinced that the White House was not out of the question.

+++

Col. Cromwell marched into Sen. Thompson’s office like he was on the parade deck, standing centered two feet from the front of the politician’s desk.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Colonel?” asked Thompson, not looking up from his work.

“What would you like me to say, Senator?”

Cromwell wasn’t going to give the senator an inch, but he would let him believe that he was the one with all the power. It’s what all politicians wanted, to be the person controlling the rest of the room.

“How about you tell me why on God’s green Earth we don’t have Dr. Price in custody yet?”

“I won’t give you excuses, Senator. You’ve heard everything we’ve done to find him. If that isn’t enough, I’d be happy to submit my resignation.”

Thompson looked up from his papers. Cromwell kept his eyes locked on the wall straight ahead.

“Would you cut that soldier bullshit. Sit down, dammit.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cromwell sat in one of the two leather armchairs facing the senator.

“Now, what are we going to tell our friends?” asked Thompson.

“All they need to know is that Dr. Price will soon be in custody and that the vaccine is contained.”

“I assume you have a new plan to get Price?”

Cromwell nodded. “I do.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

Cromwell smiled. “You’ll be hearing about it soon enough. Keep an eye on the news today, Senator.”

+++

Everyone, including the normally up-at-the-crack-of-dawn Daniel Briggs, had opted to sleep in. Dr. Price wandered down to the kitchen to find some coffee, nodding to the now familiar faces of Neil Patel and Jonas Layton, who were deep in discussion, probably about some tech innovation that was way over his head.

Two operators, Price couldn’t remember their names, were watching CNN in the living room. The news anchor was talking about the latest string of violence in Iraq.
What a waste
, Price thought, remembering the friends he’d lost in the desert.

After sipping his coffee, Price moved to the fridge to find breakfast. His hand reached for the handle but stopped. He swiveled toward the television.

“Can you turn that up?” asked Price.

One of the guys did. Price moved closer, his appetite gone, legs weak.

Federal Investigators descended on the offices and warehouses of Price’s Imports. The FBI has taken control of their headquarters in Hoboken, New Jersey as well as satellite offices in New York City, Los Angeles and New Orleans.

An FBI spokesman told us over the phone that the entire Price family, including those not directly involved in the conglomerate’s operations, is now being investigated for links to terrorist organizations in Poland and Ukraine.

At this time we cannot confirm a report that says weapons grade biological components were found in one or more of the company warehouses. We’ll update you as soon as we have more…

Price stared wide-eyed at the television screen. Terrorists? Biological weapons?

He put a hand out and braced himself against the wall for support. Everything was spinning. His entire family. Who had…

His eyes blazed with clarity.
Cromwell
.

“You okay, Doc?” asked one of the men sitting on the couch.

Price nodded. “Where’s Cal?”

Cal didn’t respond. Another wrinkle. Someone was getting smart, going on the attack instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Worst case, Cromwell knew or at least had some idea of who was helping Dr. Price. Best case, Cromwell was fishing. Cal might’ve played it the same way had he been on the other side. Rattle Price’s nerves by going after his family.

It had worked. The already shaken Price was falling apart in front of the Marine. But now wasn’t the time to panic.

“Look, I know how these things work. I’ve personally been through it before. Let us make a couple calls and the worst that’ll happen is your family spends a little time in questioning. I assume they have the money for attorneys?”

Price nodded, his face a blank sheet of pain.

“Good,” continued Cal, wanting to get Price out of his funk and back to work as soon as possible. He’d learned that lesson time after time in the Corps. Idle mulling wasn’t good. Getting the affected back on task as soon as possible was. “Let’s get everyone together and come up with a game plan. We’ll need your help.”

Again Price nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Chapter 22

Charlottesville, Virginia

10:15am, April 9
th

The news wasn’t good. Neil had confirmed that the FBI had, in fact, found biological components in Price’s Imports’s Hoboken warehouse. Worse still, they were starting to connect the dots. Not only were they looking at relationships with overseas suppliers, they were also dusting off Dr. Hunter Price’s old file, the one marked
DECEASED
.

Suddenly Price was on the government’s radar again and that wasn’t good. Facial recognition technology had improved, as had other passive and overt investigative methods since 9/11. Due to the supposed terrorist connection, the government now had carte blanche. They could shut down Price’s Imports indefinitely and keep the family tied up in investigations for years.

Cal’s inner circle sat in the War Room batting around ideas, trying to come up with a course of action that could work. Unfortunately, Cromwell had them by the proverbial balls. If they took the risk of coming out of the shadows and then somehow got caught, their entire operation could be shut down before they could do any good. Cromwell had already proved to be a master strategist. The only thing he didn’t have was Dr. Price.

“The way I see it, we need two things. First, we need to find out what the hell Cromwell is doing. What’s his plan? Second, we need to get our hands on Cromwell,” said Cal. “Neil, how close are you to getting into his system?”

Neil Patel adjusted his glasses, a sign that things weren’t going according to his typical, exacting schedule. “They’ve got a lot of security surrounding whatever they’re doing. I haven’t seen this level of lockdown in a while. I can keep trying, but I think the best option is to somehow get someone inside.”

No one liked that idea, least of all Cal. It was one thing to break into a remote facility miles from civilization. It was quite another to sneak into a government building in the middle of a densely populated city.

“Who’s got an idea of how we can do that?” asked Cal.

“What if we did both?” asked MSgt Trent.

“You mean nab Cromwell
and
force him to tell us what’s going on?”

“Yeah. It’d be easier to pick the guy up and have Doc Higgins use his magic juice,” said Trent, throwing an appreciative nod Higgins’s way.

For the first time since they’d gathered, Price spoke up. “That won’t work. Cromwell not only has guys like Malik Vespers watching over him, but he’s got passive alarms in place as well. The second he senses something’s wrong, he’ll push the panic button.”

Cal didn’t know how accurate Price’s claim was, but he kept his thoughts to himself. By the looks of some of the others, they were thinking the same thing.

“Wait!” said Price. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. There may be an easier way. I’m not supposed to know this, but a few years back Cromwell started outsourcing some of his research to private labs. I only found out because I happened to bump into an old buddy who’d gotten out of the Army and was running a lab up in Delaware. He’s was in town to hand deliver data to Cromwell.”

Cal perked up at the revelation. “Do you know where they’re at?”

“Not exactly. But I assume there has to be some paper trail for the funding, right?”

“That’s not always the case, but we’ll see. Neil, why don’t you start looking into it. Jonas, do you mind helping him?”

“No problem,” said Jonas.

Cal nodded, his pulse quickening. He could feel the familiar tingle of the hunt. “Great. It’s not much, but at least it’s something.”

An hour later they reconvened. Neil stood in front of one of the large computer screens to show them what he’d found.

“Okay. I couldn’t find a lot, but here it is. I was able to track the funding linked to Cromwell’s office. Some of it’s pretty thin, but I connected the dots thanks to Jonas’s help and came up with a list of seven facilities that could be a match.”

Jonas took over. “There were a lot more that we could’ve scrutinized, but based on the research, we figured these were a good bet. We were able to get the names of the lead researcher, the projects they’ve got funding for, and the location of each facility. I’m going to go down the list and I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me if anything sounds familiar, Dr. Price.”

Price nodded.

“Okay,” said Jonas. “The first facility is a small lab just outside Myrtle Beach. The head of the research is a doctor by the name of…”

By the time Jonas had gotten through six of the seven labs, Price was more discouraged than before. Not one of the descriptions came anywhere near something that could be connected to his cancer research. To make matters worse, there’s wasn’t a name listed that he recognized. While that seemed strange given the limited size of the research world, it didn’t surprise Price. Cromwell had been careful. No links. He was sure the seventh would be another dead end.