Chapter 8
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.”
“Then I”ll huff, and I”ll puff, and I”ll blow your house in.”
Axel
In matters of all things national security, Guinivere McGee signed away her rights when she joined Doctor James in the Government’s EMF Research Center.
Although she confessed, she would commit treason. I want to believe she’s technically done no wrong. My internal criminal-o-meter has never failed me, but what if my attraction to the hot scientist clouds my judgment?
One thing is certain. I need to question the guy who shot the team’s IT specialist. After I locate the elusive weapon, we’ll learn how far our adversaries have advanced in their quest. If my sexy Mata Hari sold them intel, she will face the consequences.
Thinking of her incarcerated, my gut wrenches. Perhaps, I could still do my job and save her simultaneously?
“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Glancing at the time, I grab another cup of coffee and hike up the stairs to my boss’s office.
“Sit.” The assistant deputy director motions to the short chair in front of his oak desk, removes his spectacles, and rubs them with a tissue.
Once Stillman replaces the dark frames, he peers through the thick glass and down his sharp, hooked nose. “Has she confessed?”
Uncomfortable in the child-sized seat, I stand and meander to the window. “No sir. McGee lawyered up, but I have a plan.”
“Go on, I’m listening.” His bushy eyebrows raise, and his forehead creases.
As he brings teepee fingers to his lips, I fill him in on all I’ve learned to date, emphasizing the threats made to her daughter. “I’m sure they’ll contact her again. When they do, I want her on our side.”
My boss types, glances down at his computer, and frowns as he reads the screen. “It says here she’s the weakest link in her group. She’ll break.”
“No sir, I don’t think so.” God help us. I hope I’m right. “Gwen McGee gives off the vibe of being weak, but underneath, she’s much tougher than we thought.”
“Did you read her divorce transcripts?” His acerbic tone strengthens my resolve.
Recalling what Lucky said about her husband and the interaction I overheard, I dig in my heels. “Then riddle me this. If she”s so unstable, why even let her near Excalibur?”
“Because Calliope James threatened to quit after her third kid was born. She said the project was too important to run without a strong second. At the time, McGee was the only person in the whole damn USA remotely qualified to assist our most senior project leader. Did you know our suspect has three doctorates?” As my boss’ grimace widens, I glance at the toy-sized cars, racing down Pennsylvania Avenue.
“Huh.” As my respect for the woman grows, so does something else.
“I’ve gone over all the footage. The suited man had a ball cap pulled over his face. A professional, he avoided all the cameras in the area.” I shift my notepad in front of my pants, so the assistant deputy director can’t detect the bulge behind my fly.
“And the weapon? Are you certain it was EMF?” When the cuffs on his designer suit shift, a shiny Rolex sparkles under the fluorescent lights, making me wonder about a change in his wife’s income.
“No, sir. The unsub had his back to me. Only Henry Rickard, their IT guy, knows for sure, and the doctors won’t let us near him.” I make a mental note to try the hospital again, after this meeting.
“Just tell me if it’s feasible. Can a pistol-sized EMF device kill a person?” He slams his fist on the desk and raises his voice, so I lower mine.
“In theory, sir, it could. This would require a heavy-duty battery, something we have yet to master. Even if we did, it’d fire only once and need a recharge every time. It’s not practical. That’s the problem everyone has been trying to solve. We’re in a race to make it discreet and effective.”
“We have portable drone disrupters. What”s the difference?”
Holding back an eye roll, I explain to him again. “The perfect murder weapon requires multiple frequencies, not one. Also, the timing becomes critical if you don’t want microwaves to cook your suspect. Stopping a heart is not an easy task. So, do I have your permission to engage her?”
“Fine.” Stillman stands and leads me to the door, indicating the audience is over.
“And if I can prove she has not been compromised, will you let her back in the program?”
My boss purses his lips. “Why do you care?”
I shrug under his intense stare and mentally cross my fingers. “If she’s as brilliant as you say, the team desperately needs her.”
He grunts. “Go ahead. Release her but keep your eyes on her. If this means sleeping with her, do it. I want results, Axel. You copy me?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”