All Due Respect (17 page)

Julia heard no sounds but, thanks to a teacher’s conference course she had taken last year, she read his lips with no problem. Looking to where he pointed, she saw the flashlight. The terrorists’ new weapon of choice. Her heart slammed into her throat. “I’ve got to get you out of there.”

He stiffened. “Can’t expose … vault. Security. Hurry.” He tapped his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

Rattled, she only caught some of his words, but she understood enough. He was sheet-white, sweating profusely, and she recalled that not only did the cylinder block airflow, Seth also had an aversion to being in it. Why, she didn’t

know, but right now it didn’t matter. She ran through the

other cylinder, grateful it only carded people on entering.

The security station stood empty. Spotting a red alarm

button on the desktop’s console panel, she pushed it. The

open cylinder slid closed. She’d locked down the building.

Guards came running from all directions, armed with M16s. One of them was Sergeant Grimm. “Seth’s stuck in

the cylinder with a flashlight,” she said. “He has no air.

Call the bomb squad—quick.” Julia tried to go back to

Seth, but a guard snagged her left arm and pulled her back.

Pain shot through her elbow, her shoulder, and she grasped her forearm. “Damn it!” The spasm raised a knot the size of a lemon in her upper arm. She gritted her teeth against the pain.

“Sorry, Dr. Warner,” the guard said. “You’ve got to stay behind the station. For your own safety.”

“Then get the damn bomb squad here. He’s suffocating, for God’s sake.”

“We can get him air.”

“No we can’t,” Grimm countered. “If there’s a bomb, we have to keep it contained.”

In case it was biological or chemical. “Well, damn it, do something,” Julia shouted. “I will not stand here and watch the man die of oxygen deprivation.”

“Squad’s on its way, Dr. Warner.”

Two minutes later, a response team appeared in full protective gear and ordered the building evacuated: an order both Julia and Security refused to follow. Wearing black helmets with face masks and body shields—full bomb retrieval gear—they took control, followed protocol, working efficiently, methodically.

Julia darted her gaze between two guards’ shoulders, watching the squad specialists and Seth. Finally, the cylinder door opened enough for a specialist to step inside. Then, it seamed shut. He examined, tested, and then captured the flashlight in a black case. When he nodded, Grimm opened the cylinder door. Two other members met the specialist and they carried the case out of the cylinder

and then, out of the building. Only then was Julia allowed to go to Seth.

She met him before he cleared the cylinder door. Hugging him to her strong side, she led him away from the transporter. He was soaked through to the skin with sweat, pasty white, and still gasping for air. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah.” He stumbled.

“Somebody get some damn oxygen.”

“No.” Seth shook his head. “Just give me a second.”

Julia tightened her hold. “Sit right here, against the wall.” She guided him to it.

Back to the wall, Seth slid to the floor, gasping. His insides felt like jelly and his mouth, desert-dry.

“Don’t breathe so fast,” Julia warned. “You’ll hyperventilate.”

Dehydrated. Hot. “Thirsty.”

Julia shouted to Grimm. “Would you get him some water?”

Another guard appeared with a paper cup fill. “We need to ask some questions.”

“Give us a few minutes, okay?” She glared over at the guard. “The man’s got to breathe before he can talk.”

“Colonel Mason’s on his way in, ma’am. He’ll expect the preliminary questioning to be done.”

“And it will be.” Her left arm useless, Julia snatched the cup with her right, spilling a third of the water down her jacket front “In a few minutes.”

The guard nodded and stepped away.

“Here, Seth.” Shaking like a leaf caught in the wind, she lifted the glass to his mouth.

He reached for it, his fingers closing over hers, and drank greedily. The cold sliding down his throat felt good.

When the adrenaline rush subsided, he let out a sharp grunt. “I hate that damn thing.” He glared at the transporter. “I’ve always hated that damn thing.”

Julia pulled a tissue from her purse and patted at the sweat streaking down his face and neck. “Why?”

Debating whether or not to answer, he looked over at

her and decided he would. She had secrets, and he had condemned her for it. Not outwardly, but she’d sensed his condemnation, just the same. Yet he was guilty of the same thing. He had secrets, too. “I don’t like being locked in.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “Working in the lab is hard for me, but I do it because I have no choice.”

She brushed a lock of his hair back from his ear. It too was soaked. “Why does being locked in bother you?”

Liking the feel of her touch more than he should, he resolved to tell her. But he damn well couldn’t look at her while he did it. “My dad used to beat my mother. From the time I was four, my job was to run to a neighbor’s and call the police. When I was six, I couldn’t do it because I was locked in the house.” His voice shook. “Our front door had a keyed dead bolt. The key was always in the lock. Always.”

“But that time, it wasn’t,” Julia speculated.

“No, it wasn’t.” He stared at the transporter, bitter and angry and riddled with regret. “My mother screamed for me to go, but I couldn’t find the damn key. She screamed and screamed.” In his mind, he heard the chilling sounds again, relived the fear and agony of being damned to watch and helpless to act. “I finally broke the kitchen window— they’d all been nailed shut. But by the time the police got there, my mother was dead.” Seth forced himself to look at Julia then. “She was dead, Julia. I—I didn’t save her.”

Her whole chest heaved and a tear rolled down Julia’s cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.”

“It was my job.”

“Your father inflicted the wounds, not you. The responsibility belongs to him.”

Seth swallowed hard, forced his voice to lower an octave. “It was my job.”

Sergeant Grimm walked over. “Dr. Holt, Colonel Mason’s arrived. Can we ask you a couple of questions before he enters the building?”

“Yeah.” Seth hauled himself to his feet. “But I don’t know what I can tell you, Sergeant. I didn’t see anyone. I

put the card in the slot and got in the cylinder. It closed, and never opened. That’s about it.”

“Except for the flashlight. Any idea who owns it?”

Seth hesitated.

Julia didn’t. “It looks like mine,” she said. “I carried it on my key ring, but when Dr. Holt told me about terrorists using them, I took it off and put it in my desk.” .

Seth grimaced. “I told you to get rid of it before coming to the lab.”

“Yes, you did,” she said. “But I’ve had a few things on my mind and I forgot.”

Doubt flashed through his eyes. Julia hated it. She understood it, didn’t blame him for it, but she hated it.

Grimm cast her a suspicious look. “With restricted access, it would be damned difficult for anyone else to get into the building. Other than Security staff and Dr. Holt, you’re the only other person here, Dr. Warner.”

“It might be difficult, Sergeant, but obviously it’s not impossible. It happened.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“I’m not stupid, for God’s sake.” Julia frowned. “If I were doing something I shouldn’t be, would I be so obvious?”

Grimm hiked his chin. “You might.”

“I wouldn’t and I didn’t,” she insisted. “Look, I’m guilty of forgetting and bringing the flashlight into the vault, but when I remembered it, I stashed the damn thing in my desk drawer.”

“Do you keep your desk locked at all times?”

“When I’m away from it, yes.”

“Who has master keys?”

Julia had no idea.

Seth answered. “Dr. Warner, me, Dempsey Morse, and Colonel Pullman.”

“Isn’t the colonel still TDY?” Grimm shifted his weight from foot to foot and his studious expression pinched into a frown.

“Yes,” Seth said. “Switzerland summit.”

“Where’s his key?”

“Procedure is to turn it in to Security,” Seth said, wondering if Pullman had breached protocol. “Anyone on your staff drive a blue truck?”

“No.”

“When I came in, there was one in the lot,” Seth said. “You might want to run a check on it.”

A guard called Grimm aside, whispered something, and then Grimm returned to them and addressed Julia. “According to the access system, you left the building and then returned right before Dr. Holt.”

“I didn’t.” Julia frowned at him. “I’ve been in my office since lunch.”

“Did you maybe run to your car for something?”

“No.” Instinctively, she stepped closer to Seth. “Nothing.”

Grimm nodded. “I need to see your security badge.”

Julia reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve it.

The badge was gone.

“I think you’d better come with me,” Colonel Mason said to Julia, and then turned his gaze to Grimm. “Get Agent 12 over here, STAT.”

Seth was glad to hear that order issued. Matthew would sort this out.

“Yes, sir.” Grimm headed for the nearest phone.

Julia darted a frantic gaze to Seth.

He stepped to her side. “I’m coming, too.”

“Yes, you are, Dr. Holt.”

None of Mason’s affable manner was evident now. He was down to bare bones, serious business, which was a good thing. Ultimately, the security of the lab was his responsibility. He had some explaining to do to the victims and the honchos. The victims, Seth thought, would be far more understanding and compassionate.

In Mason’s office, Seth sat down beside Julia. “Colonel, I know it looks damning, but Julia didn’t lock me in the transporter.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Dr. Holt.” Matthew came into the office, then skirted the chairs. “Both of you had better have damn good explanations, or you can kiss your clearances goodbye.”

Julia looked up at him. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve been in the lab. I came out and saw Seth stuck in the transporter. I didn’t see anyone, so I hit the alarm button on the console at the Security station. That’s all I can tell you because that’s all I know.”

Seth sent Matthew a telling look. “The guard station was empty from the get-go.”

“Outside the transporter?” Mason’s brows shot up on his forehead.

“Outside the transporter,” Seth confirmed.

Mason reached for the phone, punched down the intercom button. “Who the hell’s assigned to the transporter station tonight?” He paused, then added, “Tell him to get his ass to my office now.” Mason slammed down the phone. “Grimm.”

Feeling Julia’s gaze, Seth looked over, and saw her tug her ear. How could she be signaling him everything was all right now?

A light tap sounded at the door. Colonel Mason stood up. “Care to join me in the hall, Agent 12?”

The men left the room. Seth looked at Julia and brushed a fingertip over his lip, silently warning her that the room was monitored.

Five minutes passed. Ten more. Finally, twenty-four minutes after they had departed, Colonel Mason and Matthew returned, and the questioning began.

Mason took their statements, followed up with more detailed questions, and then passed them over to Matthew. Nearly two hours had passed.

Matthew’s questions took another hour, with first Julia and then Seth reiterating everything they already had told Colonel Mason. It was a pain in the ass, going through it twice, but so long as no one was talking arrests and pulling clearances—which, so far, they weren’t—Seth could tol

erate it. He was a little concerned about Julia, but she seemed to be holding her own; she had stopped rubbing at her arm a good half hour ago.

When Matthew finished up, he summoned Colonel Mason.

Mason stared at Seth, and then at Julia. “We’re getting you a new badge, Dr. Warner. I suggest you hold on to this one.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to tell you both something. I don’t like the rumors I’ve been hearing about strange crap going on in my vault. Grimm says an alarm went off in the inner lab. He went to check on it. You didn’t pass him in the corridor, Dr. Warner, so he’s convinced you couldn’t have locked Dr. Holt in the transporter.” Mason sighed and dropped onto his chair. “Agent 12 tells me we’ve got some… challenges … going on you two are working to resolve. I don’t know the nature of these challenges, and that’s fine. But I’m warning the two of you, right now. If anything goes on here Security should be made aware of and it isn’t, there’ll be hell to pay, and you two will lose a lot more than your clearances.”

“Colonel,” Julia said. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.” He twisted his lips, gazed at Matthew, Seth, and then back to her. “Now, tell me you’re keeping it.”

She raised her right hand. “Promise.”

The bluster went out of his expression. “All right, Doc.” He turned to look at Matthew. “We’re running the tapes. I find anything that counters what we’ve discussed, and you can consider the reports filed with the JCS.”

Straight to the Joint Chiefs of Staff? Damn, Mason was skipping a few pit stops in the chain of command. Seth withheld a protest.

Matthew slid Seth an it-better-not-be-necessary look, then turned his gaze to Colonel Mason. “No choice, no problem. I’ll pay for the fax.”

Seth took that in. The crunch-time code. Matthew was

up against the wall on this, and he’d backed them. He had taken responsibility for both Seth and Julia, and he was putting Seth on notice that doing so had better not become a mistake Matthew would regret.

“Any variance,” Seth said, “and I’ll fax the JCS myself.”

JULIA went home a nervous wreck. She locked the doorknob, but when she went to remove the key from the dead bolt, she hesitated. Seth’s story about his mother ran through her mind, and she couldn’t make herself pull the key. She left it in the lock. For him, and for herself.

At the kitchen bar, she dumped her purse and shoes, and then went up to her bedroom where she stripped off her clothes, got into a steaming shower, and telling herself she was ditching stress, she slumped against the shower wall and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.