Read Jae's Assignment Online

Authors: Bernice Layton

Tags: #Interracial romance;FBI Witness Protection;Psychiatry;Military;African-American

Jae's Assignment (9 page)

“Both,” she said, turning to him. “So, tell me, Trevor, how is it that you’re so proficient at surgery and wound care? Surely, you weren’t required to perform that type of medical care on soldiers with adjustment issues,” she said, turning and giving the universal sign of quotation marks before sitting on the side of her bed.

Trevor crossed the room and sat in the window seat before answering her question. “Yes, I was required to heal soldiers mentally as well as physically. To understand the psychological issues of soldiers, I had to become one. I joined the Marine Corps and learned firsthand what the troops had to deal with. My own experience in the Corps only strengthened my resolve to succeed with my research and hopefully end a lot of unnecessary suffering. But prior to that, I was a medical resident at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. I was accepted into medical school right after graduating with honors from college, but before completing my residency, I saw that I was treating the wrong parts of the body. Broken limbs, missing limbs…yes, most of that can be healed, but if the mind doesn’t accept that the limb is missing, there can be no acceptance of what is. You follow me?”

Hearing him speaking with such passion and conviction, Jae felt her own resolve weakening. “Yes, I follow you. But I imagine the medical field was your initial calling?”

Suddenly he stood and he walked over to the dresser, picked up a large bag of chips, and held it up in silent question.

“Help yourself.” Watching him open the bag, Jae noticed the sullen and faraway expression now etched on his face. She’d seen that same look when she worked in his office. The only difference was he’d often rub at his beard as if he hated it. Oddly, she thought he was much more handsome without it. “Don’t eat all of my barbeque chips,” she said with an eye roll when he winked at her and returned to the window seat.

Jae got right to the point. “Dr. Grant…Trevor, I’ve been doing this job for a while now and I’ve never had one go sideways like this before. I need to work backwards a little bit to try and make sense of what’s going on. To start, when you went into the witness protection program, was your bio falsified that you were aware of?”

“There was a tiny element of truth, but yes, the majority of it was bogus.”

“That takes some high level manipulation to make something like that happen.” When he simply shrugged his shoulders, Jae felt the hair on her arms stand up. “If that is true, then your case must have been given priority that runs pretty high up the chain.” She watched him study a potato chip before slowly putting it into his mouth. “Was your research funded by terrorists, or by some Middle Eastern group?”

“Neither. Is that what the FBI believes?”

Jae didn’t answer. “Where did your unlimited funding come from?”

Trevor leaned forward making eye contact with her. “Do you think I’m a traitor to my country? That I would take money to create an army of unstoppable soldiers that could pose a threat to US troops, men and women whom I’ve fought alongside in the trenches, eating with them one minute, then seeing them barely clinging to life the next? If you do, that’s bullshit and we are wasting our time here,” he said angrily. “It was approved funding to further a research project I began that involved soldiers’ mental health,” Trevor added.

“So where did the money come from?” Jae asked quietly after several long seconds of silence. “You said it wasn’t a terrorist group and let’s say for the moment that I believe you, you have to admit that it sounds suspicious that with a simple request and application to expand your research, you get awarded unlimited funding.” When he started to protest, Jae raised her hand to silence him. “Come on, Doc. You can’t be that naïve. You’re a smart guy. You know how our government red tape works. Nothing ever happens that fast. Trust me, there’s always red tape. There aren’t scissors big enough to cut through it. Yet your research project moves to the head of the line; so forgive me if I’m a little skeptical about your patriotism, and the fact that people are trying to kill you. It all makes me wonder what else is going on with you. I’m an investigator and I’ve heard more stories than I can count, so talk to me. Let me see the whole picture here.”

Hesitantly, Trevor told her all about his research on the soldiers, ending with how he’d had to run for his life when he found out that a group of extremists wanted his formula to fashion their own brand of supersoldiers.

Sighing deeply, Trevor set the bag of chips down beside him and shook his head slowly.

“All I wanted to do was improve the lives of soldiers returning from the battlefield emotionally scarred, traumatized, and suffering from PTSD. I also wanted to help those soldiers re-enter society as fully functioning citizens. For the soldiers who were redeployed, I discovered a method of combining medication, using a specific formula that I’d worked on over several years. It included hypnotherapy. My goal was to make them mentally stronger, more focused, and strategically better soldiers, not create supersoldiers to be killing machines. But it wasn’t quite ready yet. It still needed more work and more testing.”

He told her about General Murphy in Germany and how he cleared the way for him to get the funding and his intense interest in every aspect of his research project. Then he told her about the Marines, Trevor’s voice full of emotion when he described how he felt seeing their bodies in the morgue.

“Jae, I interviewed and assessed those men individually. I monitored them closely for any behavioral, emotional, or physical changes and none of them, not one, exhibited even the slightest hint that would lead me to believe they were suicidal.”

Jae listened without interrupting and although she empathized with him, she still had lots of questions. “Weren’t you suspicious about the general and why he was so interested in your research?”

Running a hand through his short hair, Trevor nodded. “Yes, of course I wondered about it and yes, I probably should have paid more attention and listened to my gut. But in that moment I chose to ignore it because all I could think about was how many soldiers I would be able to help. Everything else was incidental except for the research and the formula, which is up here.” Trevor tapped his forehead.

“Okay, so, some idiots have stolen your formula, tried to duplicate it, and failed and now these people are after you to get the final piece of the formula out of you by any means possible. If that’s the case, and I have no reason to dispute that, they won’t stop until they get it.” Jae’s mind was tripping over the thoughts swiftly running through her head. “When was the last time you spoke with Dr. Harold Sinclair?”

“I hadn’t talked to him since I went into the witness protection program, so maybe five years? Then about three months ago I called the last contact number I had for him. He believed my life was in danger and told me that he was going to reach out to someone to help me. I didn’t know it would lead to the FBI’s protection program. Why do you ask?”

“He was found dead three days after you called him. It appeared to have been a suicide, but it does raise some suspicions, don’t you think?” What Jae couldn’t tell him was that as a result of that intercepted call, a trail of bodies started dropping and the lack of personal information on him was what led the FBI to put his lab and office under surveillance.

Trevor controlled his expression as he recalled the doctor coming to see him at his base office in Afghanistan. “I was shocked to discover evidence of a synthesized version of my formula in their samples. The high dosage is what killed them. The best I can figure is that whoever stole my notes tried to recreate my formula by supplementing other pharmaceutical components and administered it to them. Those slugs tried to cover up the deaths by claiming the Marines had committed suicide. I became a walking target, particularly from the members of the military. Going into the witness protection program was supposed to keep me safe and allow me to continue my work,” Trevor said. “It wasn’t my idea to run and hide. I was ready to defend myself and my actions as their treating physician, but the price was too high to do even that.”

Jae weighed what he’d told her. His body language was that of a man racked with guilt. “Listen, I believe you. And I know you weren’t responsible for those five Marines’ deaths, either.”

Trevor’s shoulders slumped with relief. “So what happens now, Agent Randall? Where do you go from here and what about your team and your supervisor? Have you been in contact with them yet?”

Jae’s worry resurfaced as it had when she’d opened her eyes that morning. Having not gotten a response to her calls, she was positive that something was going on with her department. And after hearing Trevor’s side of the story, another worry surfaced. He wasn’t meant to be killed, most likely just incapacitated. But what about her? Was she meant to die in that safe house?

“Do you know Special Agent Dan Willow?” Trevor asked

“No, who is he?” Jae swallowed away her troubling thoughts.

“He’s the agent who set me up in the witness protection program. He was my only contact. I hadn’t heard from him in years, but about six months ago out of the blue he called me. The way I see it, somebody way up the brass has pulled me out of hiding for a reason.”

“Did this Agent Willow ever give you a way to contact him if you had a problem? A cell number or field office location? Anything?”

Trevor wanted to trust her. He wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn’t chance it. Still, he needed her. She had connections inside the Bureau that could be useful and possibly help him get his life back. Jae Randall was no lightweight. She was smart and would be able to see right through him if she thought he was bullshitting her. He had to win her trust and to do that he had to tell her some truths. Reaching inside his backpack, he pulled out an item on a chain, leaned forward, and dropped it into her hand. “He gave me this.”

Jae stared at it then glanced at him. “Okay, dog tags, what about them?”

Trevor removed them from her hand and snapped the metal apart. “This is a data storage device and it contains the data components of my research.”

“So much for keeping it all up here.” Jae snorted, tapping his forehead with her index finger.

Ignoring her sarcasm, Trevor continued. “Agent Willow asked me to put everything on this device. He also said he would contact me to retrieve it. It’s encrypted, but I think the FBI’s software is compatible with it. Until I received that check-in call six months ago, I hadn’t heard from him. Keeping this data device with me puts a bull’s-eye on my back and I’m tired of being a target. I’m tired of running and looking over my shoulder, always on the defensive, unable to trust or to live and it stops now.”

“Whatever you’re thinking about doing, stop. You’ll just get yourself killed.”

Trevor shook his head no. “I’m not thinking. I’m doing it and I’m leaving.”

“Oh, no you’re not. And please, don’t make me pull out my weapon and shoot you.”

Trevor laughed, picking up a small Post-it Note pad and ink pen from the desk. He scribbled on the tiny sheet before sticking it to the data drive. “You probably would, too, but in your weakened state, I think I could take you on and you’ll have to shoot me because you’re not going to stop me, Jae. Look, I really came here this morning to check on you and to give you the data drive. So, I’m leaving this in your very capable hands, sweetheart. When you find Agent Willow, give it to him and tell him I said thanks.”

Jae stood up. “First, don’t call me sweetheart,” Jae said, pointing her finger and blinking. “And second, my assignment is to get you to safety. I’ll get you a secondary location, where you’ll stay put, you got that?”

Trevor stood also. “Forget it, sweetheart,” he retorted and dropped the data device into the breast pocket of her pajama top. His hand drifted to her upper arm and lingered there for several seconds before he stepped around her.

Jae hesitated but recovered and grabbed the sleeve of his denim shirt, stopping him. “You think I’m joking with you, Dr. Grant? Well, I’m not. If I have to cuff you to the cast iron tub in the bathroom I will do just that.”

Trevor couldn’t hold back a chuckle at her stern threat and the firm set of her lips. “Hmm, well as interesting as that sounds, much like your offer of a dance in the hotel lounge, I’ll have to pass. I also came here to say thank you, Jae. In this, I don’t have a choice if I want my life back.” His hand covered hers on his forearm. “I have to backtrack also. I have to find out whoever it was that set me up.”

“No, you listen, Trevor. Whatever plan you think you have, you need to rethink. Those folks in those high-ranking positions have the power to pull rank and you could very well end up dead. That is, after you’re tortured for the information up there.” She again pointed to his head. “Or in here,” she said, pointing to the pocket where the data device was. When he slowly shook his head with unwavering resolve, Jae’s exasperation showed. “Do you have a death wish? Because that’s what will happen if you attempt to go anywhere without protection!”

“You mean, your protection, Jae?” Trevor lifted doubtful eyebrows. “I won’t risk something happening to you. Besides, you’re Ronnie’s maid of honor. She’ll kill me herself. But thank you for your concern.”

“Your ‘I’m outta here’ stunt won’t work,” Jae said, pushing past him to open the closet to pull out a change of clothes, but he blocked her path.

Tugging on the fabric of her pajama top and pulling her closer, Trevor smiled. “Sweetheart, I knew I was ‘outta here’ the second you introduced yourself as my contact in that hotel lounge.”

With barely six inches between them, Jae lifted her eyes to his. “I’m not failing in this assignment, Trevor.”

“You haven’t failed, Jae. It’s because of you that I want my life back. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. I want a life,” he said quietly.

“Look, Trevor…I-I can imagine what it’s been—”

“No, you can’t imagine what it’s been like. I miss me and I’m going to find me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Trevor smiled and leaned forward. “Nobody knows me anymore, not even me. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Agent Randall. Do me a favor, in exactly ten days, go to your doctor and have him remove those sutures because they’re not the dissolving type and continue taking the medication. You have a slight temperature. Keep monitoring it for the next couple of days, but if it persists or gets worse, go to the ER,” he said, running a hand over her injured side. “Hey, Jae, there’s something I knew I was going to do the second I saw you,” he said, slowly closing those six inches between them by tugging the fabric of her top a little more.

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