Pipe Dreams (26 page)

CHAPTER 46

When the SEAL team reconvened
in the cell’s basement home, CoCo was conflicted. A communiqué from the base had instructed them to proceed to new coordinates, but the information he had obtained from Ashley made following the orders difficult. Though she hadn’t been able to identify Lewis’ building on the street map, her information was the best they had yet. He wasn’t prepared to abandon that target.

The men in the infirmary compounded the problems.
CoCo was reasonably sure Ashley would continue to cooperate as long as her friend was receiving care, but he didn’t have the manpower or resources to help for long. The savage was a non-issue. CoCo didn’t care if he lived or died. However, he couldn’t be allowed to return to wherever he came from and the team wasn’t equipped for prisoners.

CoCo
’s men made preliminary plans to move. They had been given coordinates for a manufacturing plant on the far side of the city. Finding an effective route was no small feat. They needed to move quickly and remain out of sight. The sewers provided the best option, but one junction would be difficult to navigate. They would either have to circumvent it, adding unnecessary time to their journey, or they would have to surface and risk detection on the streets. The subject was hotly contested.

Instead of waiting to hear the outcome of the discussion,
CoCo went to check with his medic. Much of what happened next depended on the state of Derek’s patients. As he approached the infirmary, he slowed his steps so as not to disturb anyone. Pulling open the white sheet, he slipped his head inside. Derek and Ashley were napping. CoCo approached and tapped the medic on his arm. Instantly, Derek woke.

“How
’s it going?” CoCo whispered.

“Touch and go. His fever
’s down, but his breathing’s worse.” Derek stood, stretched, and moved to the bed to check Jeremy’s vitals. “If I could get him out of here and get him on a respirator, he’d recover. As it is, I just don’t know.”

“And the other one?”
CoCo asked.

“Him? He
’s a piece of shit. I’m keeping him under to shut him up, but my sedatives are going fast. It’s a good thing I’m a nice guy. Some people deserve what they get. Know what I mean?”

CoCo
nodded, pursing his lips. His eyes dropped to Ashley. She was curled under a blanket. Her head tilted to one side and a thin line of drool dribbled from the corner of her mouth. CoCo winced, imagining the sore neck she would have later. All the toughness she exhibited when awake was lost in the abandon of sleep. Soft, bruised, and vulnerable, Ashley looked like the child she was.

“So what
’s the plan?” Derek asked.

“Don
’t know yet. We’ve been given new coordinates. The team’s getting ready to move. Christ, if we weren’t short I’d be inclined to let you stay here, but you’re the only medic we’ve got. You’ve got to come with us.”

“He
’s do for another dose of morphine soon, Commander. I’m no expert at Tetanus, but he’s been on antibiotics long enough that it might be safe to let him come out of sedation. That would help his breathing. If his spasms diminish, it might be okay to leave him. I’d like to see what happens. Can you give me an hour?”

“Yeah. We won
’t be ready to move until then anyway,” Coco said.

“What about the other one?  What do you want to do with him?”

“Save the meds. Gag him if you have to and keep him in restraints. We’re not taking prisoners and he definitely qualifies as a hostile, but I don’t want to do anything until the girl is out of here. She’s seen enough,” CoCo replied.

He was leaving the infirmary when Derek exclaimed, “Oh, shit!” 
CoCo spun around and crossed the room, oblivious to the clump of his boots on the cement floor. Ashley woke and jumped to the side of the bed. Derek bent over, his ear on Jeremy’s chest. “He’s stopped breathing,” he said ripping away the blankets covering his patient.

Ashley was frozen. White knuckled, she gripped the edge of the bed. Tears spilled from her eyes as Derek performed CPR. Jeremy
’s sternum cracked like a rifle, but the medic didn’t relent. After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled himself upright and let out a staggered breath. Flush-faced and slack-jawed, his glazed eyes moved back and forth between Ashley and the commander. Then he sadly shook his head.

“He
’s gone. There’s nothing more I can do. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Ashley whispered. She touched Jeremy
’s face. Then she picked up his thin hand, held it to her lips, and kissed it. Setting it back down, she stroked it. Finally, she fled. CoCo pulled the blankets over Jeremy’s face and followed her, his heart heavy. The man’s death meant nothing to him personally, but he felt for the girl.

Ashley sprinted down the hall and through the living room.
CoCo caught her as reached the basement door. She struggled against him, fighting hard to escape, but he held her tight. After a few minutes she relaxed in his arms and he turned her around, pulling her close.

“I
’m sorry, girl. I’m really sorry,” he said. As small and fragile as a bird in his embrace, he worried she would break if he squeezed too tight. When she pushed him away, he was surprised.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

CoCo stepped back, cautiously. As much as he ached for her, Ashley was a risk to the team. He couldn’t allow her to leave, but as he released her, she abandoned her flight. She stared up at him, her chest heaving and her eyes bright.

“I can
’t find the building on the map, but I can show you where it is,” she said. “The bastards aren’t going to get away with this. I owe him that much.”  She paused and then continued in a low voice, “No, I owe him everything.”

CoCo
put his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes glittered dangerously. Though her mouth trembled slightly at the corners, she didn’t flinch at his gaze or stiffen under his touch. “Girl, you amaze me,” he whispered. When she did not respond, he read the determination on her face. Curling his lips into a faint smile, he nodded. “Okay, Ashley. Welcome to the team.”

In the kitchen, the men gathered around the stainless steel counter.
CoCo got down to business.

“Did you figure out a route?” he asked. Malone pointed to the map.

“There’s no way to get through this intersection safely. It’s too narrow and we run the risk of getting snarled up. We’ll surface at this manhole. It’s not perfect, but it’s not on a main street and it’s close to an alley we can use to get us back into the pipes over here.”  Malone’s fingers tapped different marks on the laminated paper.

“That works. We
’ll split at the same place. A small team will accompany Ashley. The rest of us will proceed to the plant. Malone, do you have any intel on the building itself?  Do we know how it’s laid out?” CoCo asked.

“Satellite imagery shows a wall all the way around it. Looks like there are two wings off a main building. There
’s a drainage pipe we can get to that goes under the building and empties into the lake on the other side. The drainage pipe surfaces here,” Malone said, indicating a spot inside the western wing of the plant.

“What
’s there?  Do you know?”

“We
’re not positive, but given its scale and proximity to the gates, best guess is a truck bay. See the doors here?” Malone gestured at his small computer screen. The picture was sharp. A row of six gigantic rollup doors lined the west wall of the plant and oil stains were visible on the concrete pad in front of them.

“
Okay. Good enough to start. Ashley, your turn. Tell the guys everything you can remember about Lewis and where he lives. Don’t skip anything. I want every detail,” CoCo said.

Ashley had been following the conversation with interest. When he mentioned her by nam
e, she glanced at the other men, launched into a description of Lewis and his chauffeur, and then retold the story of her escape. As she finished, CoCo put an arm around her shoulders.

“Good job, girl. You
’d make a hell of a SEAL.”

“No offense, but what are you going to do when you find him?” she
asked. CoCo’s face was grim.

“Whatever
’s necessary to get what we’re after.”

“And then?”

“Ashley, I think I’ll leave that up to you.”

The team made final preparations for their departure, checking weapons, repacking supplies, and tending personal.
CoCo pulled Derek aside.

“We need to deal with your other patient.”

“Yeah. On it,” the medic said.

CoCo
followed him back to the infirmary. Ashley trailed behind them. At the curtain, CoCo stopped, facing her. “No, girl. You stay out here.”

“You can
’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your men,” she snapped.

Narrowing his eyes, he put his hands on his hips, anticipating a debate. When she pushed past him, he sighed and let her go. If he had been through what she had, he would want to see this, too.

As they neared the savage’s bed, they heard his muffled shrieks. Derek pulled back the curtain. On the tangled and crusty sheets, the man bucked against his restraints, eyes bulging. Derek picked up a pillow from where it had fallen on the floor and came around the bed. Then he placed the pillow over the man’s face and held it firmly. The savage’s thrashing increased as he struggled for air. CoCo stepped up to the bed, withdrew his M-9 sidearm from its holster, and fired one shot into the pillow. The savage jerked. Then he was still. CoCo turned to Ashley, expecting her to be in shock. Instead, a small smile graced her bruised face. “One down,” she said. CoCo imagined her counting how many more there were to go.

CHAPTER 47

S
taring at the faded photograph
of her grandfather and his friends, Vanessa couldn’t help noticing the chubby cheeks, small eyes, and blond hair of the man standing next to Isaac. Of course Harry didn’t look anything like that now. Still, the resemblance was there, perhaps more in his presence than his appearance. Seeing his image next to her beloved grandfather was too much to bear.

For years, Vanessa had walked on thin ice. If she moved with careful intent, the ice would not break. She would not fall into the cold abyss, sinking into dark depths where light and air were only memories. When she learned of Isaac
’s involvement in the NSO, the ice had cracked. Since then, she had been oscillating between panic and hope. Michael’s affection had pierced her protective bubble and now she was naked, exposed to the treachery of truth. Sitting here in this cramped yet comfortable office, decorated with homey bits and family photographs, the ice split. A rushing river filled her ears.

How could Harry, Isaac, and Papa have been friends?  How could these men, her protectors and teachers,
her family,
be part of what had happened? Did they really plan something that would result in her rape, terror, and despair? Papa and Isaac were supposed to have loved her! 

She had survived, willing herself to get up every morning and do the work to which she was assigned
, so that she would one day see the NSO destroyed. Then, she would have her vengeance. The Kovalic name would endure and she would keep her promise to her Papa as the living embodiment of her family’s future. And he knew what they were going to do?  He had helped make it possible?

Vanessa plummeted into the abyss, its icy fingers pulling her down. No sharp edge or smooth platform gave her purchase. She heard her own jagged gasps as her lungs failed. She could not even scream for lack of air. Her body numb, her heart thundered.

A familiar hand squeezed hers. Michael was trying to bring her back to the surface. His voice, liquid and light, told her it was going to be alright, but she didn’t believe him. Michael could not save her. No one could. The dark cold tightened around her chest and she started to flail.

Then, someone was holding a paper bag over her mouth. A woman
’s voice told her to breathe and she did, hungrily inhaling her own, moist breath. The darkness receded. She could see the lamplight spilling onto the polished surface of her grandfather’s knife. Her hammering heart slowed to a normal rhythm and she was back in the comfortable room.

McGrath, Lieutenant Marino, and Michael huddled around her. Marino
’s low voice was soothing as she told Vanessa that panic attacks were a normal reaction to intense trauma. Michael had not let go of Vanessa’s hand. Now, he stroked her hair. Marino removed the paper bag and set it on the desk.

Vanessa sat up and took a deep breath. McGrath sat back down in his chair. A heavy sadness cloaked Michael
’s lion-like face. Vanessa wanted to lift it, to see his eyes light from within.

“I
’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey. Don
’t apologize. You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Michael said.

“He
’s right. This is my fault. I’m asking too much of you,” McGrath agreed.

“No. You
’re doing what you have to,” Vanessa replied, meaning it. She stared at him, noting for the first time the shadows beneath his eyes, the stubble on his chin, and the stress around his mouth. Until this point, she had only paid attention to the calm in his voice and the pressed crispness of his uniform.

Appraising him, Vanessa also discovered his kindness. His need for information was urgent. Somewhere, a clock was ticking, counting down to a moment when either he would succeed or the world would change forever. Though anxious, he did not hurry her responses. His patience was a gift.

“You asked me about Harry Rose. I’ll tell you what I know,” she said.

“Are you sure, Vanessa?  We can take a break,” McGrath replied.

“I’m sure, Colonel.”

“Okay, I
’m listening.” He pushed files away to clear a space in front of him. Then he pulled a pad of paper from a stack on one side of the desk and grabbed a pen. When he was ready, Vanessa launched into her story.

“Harry was the first administrator I worked for as an assistant. Compared to the others, he was easy. He wasn
’t interested in sex and didn’t require more of me than an occasional back rub. In fact, under Harry, I actually performed mostly as a secretary. I didn’t spend much time with him. Unlike my stints under the other administrators, I only lived in his home for a few months.

While I was with Harry, I felt safe. At that time, the
NSO was new. The tenants of the New Social Order were tenuous and every day brought changes as the administrators worked out kinks in their system. In some ways, it was exciting. I was part of a plan to save the city and my work was helping to establish a novel government designed to give people a happier life. The slogan, ’Where there is no need, there is no greed,’ made sense to me then and I was proud to be working in my small capacity to make things better.

It didn
’t take long before my relationship with Harry changed. The more I embraced the propaganda and celebrated the NSO’s growing stability, the colder Harry got. In the beginning, he would include me in discussions as he weighed the pros and cons of the administrators’ recommendations. Eventually, he stopped asking my opinion altogether. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, or why he was treating me so differently. Eventually, he passed me on to the next one. That’s when I got my introduction to what was expected of assistants. I balked and was punished severely for my lack of compliance. When I bumped into Harry at the first quarterly meeting after we’d parted, I begged him for help. He told me everyone had to do their duty for the NSO. That was the last time I spoke with him directly.”

“You said that he weighed recommendations from the other administrators. Was he in charge?” McGrath interrupted.

“Supposedly, all the administrators are equal, but they’re not. Harry was always a leader and he wasn’t in charge of a department like the others. He sat at the head of the table during the meetings and almost all the other administrators wanted his approval on their decisions. He wasn’t in charge, exactly, but he was important. He didn’t do things the way everybody else did. He even insisted on staying in his own home. He wouldn’t move around like the rest of them.”

“Most of the other administrators wanted his approval? Who didn
’t?” McGrath asked.  Vanessa blanched. Any memory of Lewis was anathema. She tasted the bitterness of her hatred for him as she responded.

“Lewis. And the head of the
Watch Tower, Bowen. Neither of them got along with Harry. They pretended to, but it was obvious to everyone they didn’t like each other.”

“What
’s Lewis’ full name?” the colonel asked.

“I don
’t know. Nobody ever called him anything else, even in letters. He just goes by Lewis.”

“Okay, now I
’m going to ask you a hard question. If you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand. Just do the best you can with it.”  He looked at her, taking a few long seconds to make sure she was steady. Vanessa nodded her head, inviting him to ask what he would.

“When you realized Harry Rose was in the picture with your grandfather and Isaac Cohen, it upset you greatly. Do you mind telling me why?” 

“Because it made it true. Everything you’ve said. I thought Isaac was just a worker, like me. Then I found out he was Michael’s friend and knew about the cell. He was my friend my whole life. It was impossible he was involved in the NSO. He despised it.

And then you suspected my father and grandfather of collusion as well and I couldn
’t accept it. Coincidences didn’t prove you right. Even the notes in the knife didn’t prove anything. But when I recognized Harry in the picture, I had to admit it. All day, I’ve been bothered by something I couldn’t remember, something important about Harry and Isaac. I’ve been going through my journal, trying to remember what it was and thinking they had something to do with each other, but I couldn’t place it.

Colonel, this will sound crazy, but Isaac and my grandfather were good men. It wasn
’t in their nature to do something so evil. They cared about people. They cared about the world. They were always talking about how to make things better. They wouldn’t do this. They couldn’t do this. But when I figured out it was Harry standing with them in that picture, I didn’t know what to think. None of it makes any sense!” 

“I
’m not so sure, Vanessa. It’s starting to make some sense to me. Why don’t you and Michael go down to the cafeteria and get some dinner?  I have to confer with my intelligence team for a few minutes. Then I’ll meet you there. I’ve got a theory about what happened that I’d like to share with you.” He rose and grabbed the slips of paper, the photograph, and his notepad from his desk.

“Vanessa, out of curiosity, were any of the administrators Jewish?” he called out as they were leaving.

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Probably nothing, but I was thinking about your grandfather
’s note. He said they were bound by faith. I was wondering if he was referring to his religion. It was just a thought.”

Vanessa pondered this while they walked to the cafeteria. Long past the time when the others had eaten, the tables were empty.
She wasn’t hungry and only picked at her plate when the food arrived. Unlike her, Michael shoveled the baked chicken and snow peas into his mouth, scarcely chewing the bites.

She loved the different sides of him. In front of others he was cool and smooth. When he wrote, he was so focused and intense that he reminded her of an animal stalking its prey. When he touched her, he was warm, fluid, and sensuous. Other times, he was street slick and aggressive. He could be decisive and convincing, empathetic or withdrawn, funny or silly. No matter what he was doing, he was Michael. Underneath all his facades, his essence didn
’t waver. This was what troubled her about the connection between her grandfather, Isaac, and Harry. The NSO and its mandates were contrary to who she knew those men to be.

Michael was finishing a bowl of vanilla ice cream when McGrath joined them at the table. He signaled for a cup of coffee. Then, he spoke.

“Did you ever start out trying to do something that ended up going terribly wrong? When I was a kid, I used to go fishing a lot. I never tried to kill the fish. It wasn’t about eating them. It was about catching them. Whatever I caught, I would release. One time, I caught a really big one. He was a beauty and put up a hell of a fight. When I finally landed him, it took all my strength to stop him from flapping around long enough to get the hook out of his mouth. By the time I pried it free, he was cut up pretty badly. I felt terrible, but figured once he was back in the water, he’d be all right. Only problem was, I’d spent so long working on it, the fish had stopped struggling.

I thought I
’d killed him until I saw his tail twitch. I lugged him back to the water, hoping it would revive him. He just lay there, floating in the shallows. Occasionally, he would move a little. Then he’d go still. I thought he was suffering and it was my fault, so I netted him and brought him back on shore. I grabbed a big rock to smash his head and put him out of his misery. When I hit him, I slipped. The rock opened a gash on his head and he started twitching and flipping his tail. I hit him again, ripping off another chunk of his flesh. Finally, he was still. By this time, he was so bloody and mangled, I couldn’t even think about bringing him home to cook him, so I threw him back in the water.

He lay there for a few minutes. Then he swam away. In my effort to not hurt him, I
’d destroyed every bit of beauty and grace in him. In the end, my attempts to stop his suffering only made it worse.

Vanessa, I
’m wondering if the people who planned this whole thing were like me. It’s possible the designers were trying to do what they thought was right, but it went terribly wrong. I’m guessing your grandfather, Isaac, and Harry Rose were part of a group who wanted to heal the world. Somehow, along the way, the things they did made it worse instead of better. The NSO, the viruses, and all the things that are happening now are the result of efforts gone wrong. Every action has unintended consequences. Their actions were on such a massive scale that the consequences were equally huge. I’m guessing Isaac saw how bad things had gotten and tried to mitigate the damage before it was too late. Your grandfather’s notes were his way of doing the same thing, but he and your father may have died before his messages could make a difference.

I
’ve asked the SEAL team to try to locate Harry Rose. From what you’ve told me, he might also have some misgivings. If they can find him, he might be willing to help us stop this thing.”