Fourth Day (26 page)

‘“Trust” is an interesting choice of word,’ I said, acidic, as I handed it over.

‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ he said. ‘But we now have to consider you a possible danger to us. The safety of this community is my responsibility.’ He ushered Dexter out. Dexter threw a final reproachful glance in my direction as he went.

‘Yeah,’ I murmured as the door closed behind the pair of them and I heard the lock turn. ‘Good luck with that.’

After they’d gone, I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like a long time. The sun dropped towards the horizon and I tracked the passage of the long shadows around the walls like a giant sundial.

I didn’t expect sleep to come, but eventually it did, restless and disturbed.

So, when I came bolting into wakefulness with a gasp in the dark, for a few seconds I wasn’t sure if it was
something real or imaginary that had roused me.

A fraction later, senses screaming, I registered a presence in my room, a bulky slither of sound, a proximate breath. I closed my hand around the makeshift knuckleduster I’d moulded out of the old table fork, and catapulted upright in my bed, lashing out blindly. I caught something a glancing blow that elicited a pained grunt in response, but only served to accelerate my nightmare.

Flailing, I began to scramble from under the entanglement of bedclothes, needing mobility, a clear fighting ground. Adrenaline injected into my system with a raw whisky blast.

The lock dropped onto me seemingly out of nowhere, pinning my throat, my neck. I saw wild colours and black static, felt the sudden compression of blood inside my head, the pressure behind my eyes as the clenched muscles restricted the supply. In utter panic, I knew what came next.

I barely felt the scratch as the needle went into my thigh.

‘
Bastards
,’ I said, but my voice was already beginning to slur. And after that, I remembered nothing.

I came round sitting upright in a hard-backed chair, sluggish and groggy, with a foul taste in my mouth. Even through closed eyelids, the room was lit with irritating brightness. When I tried to lift a hand to my face, something snagged sharply at my wrist.

My eyes snapped open.
Mistake
. I flinched, blinded, tried moving my limbs but found them constricted and heard the jingle of metal on metal. I stilled abruptly, fighting the terror that bubbled up in my throat. If anything brought me the rest of the way out of it, dismayed, betrayed, that was it.

A man’s voice said, ‘She’s all yours,’ and there were footsteps and a door closing. I opened my eyes again, cautiously this time, and looked out through slitted lids.

The first thing I saw was Sean, leaning his hip against a table with his ankles crossed and arms folded, watching me. He was dressed in DPM trousers and combat boots, and an olive drab T-shirt that showed the delineated muscle in his arms and shoulders. His clothes were stained with the sweat of prolonged effort, and crumpled like he’d been
wearing them all night and well into what must have been the following day.

I was wearing yesterday’s clothes, too, but stripped down to my thin undershirt. I shivered in the clammy atmosphere as I eyed Sean for a moment without speaking, then turned my head slowly and surveyed the rest of the room.

It was not much bigger than the interview room where Detective Gardner had first confronted Bane. It even had the obviously fake mirror set into one wall, and heavy-duty spotlights in the ceiling. There was a camera mounted high into one corner, pointing down at us through a rage-proof grille. The recording light was on.

Initially, I had no idea of location and there was little to be gained from the room. Just the quiet hum of air conditioning overlaying the flat nothing of good sound insulation. But, every now and again, I felt a slight vibration coming up through the concrete beneath my feet as another heavy plane took off or landed. Probably Van Nuys, I considered. The government hangar at the airport was an ideal location for Epps to interrogate a less-than-cooperative subject. Not just from a security standpoint, but because of its seclusion, also.

Nobody can hear you scream over the sound of a jet engine primed for take-off.

I lifted my hands to the limit of the handcuffs that fastened my wrists to the steel arms of the chair, rattled them slightly. ‘So,’ I said, more calmly than I felt, ‘is this how it is between us now?’

‘We had every reason to be cautious. That was some improvised shiv you were using,’ Sean said, voice neutral. ‘And are you really saying – if we’d simply asked you to
walk out of there with us – you would have come?’

‘We’ll never know, will we?’ I said, icy. ‘But some choice in the matter would have been nice.’

He came upright so fast I hardly saw him move, more a lurch of reaction. In front of me, staring down, he said with quiet vehemence, ‘Don’t talk to me about choice, Charlie.’

I swallowed, head tilted back to meet his eyes. ‘I know you don’t want to hear it when I say I’m sorry, but there
were
no choices to be made, Sean.
I
wasn’t given a choice.’

He stepped back, as if he didn’t trust himself to be near me. ‘Are you talking about our child,’ he said coldly, ‘or the fact you
chose
not to tell us about the terrorist attack Bane’s planning on the Middle Eastern delegation visiting the oil refineries in Long Beach? Or the fact he’s been hoarding enough small arms to start a war?’

For a moment I was stunned to silence. Thomas Witney had assumed that we would take advantage of the effects of the midazolam to question him as a matter of course, either during or immediately after his extraction. We had not done so, and I recalled feeling vaguely insulted that he would think we’d stoop to such measures.

But Epps had no such scruples.

The reason for having my arms bare suddenly dawned. They had wanted free access to my veins.

The sense of violation swept down over me like a bucket of cold water, drenching through my skin to chill the bones beneath. I struggled to suppress a shudder, and it took everything I’d got to fix Sean with a ruthless, unwavering gaze.

‘Well, it looks like you were right,’ I said then, matching my delivery to his.

‘Meaning?’

‘Right to chain me up before I realised what you’d let them do to me.’

I thought I caught a momentary twitch, then it was gone. ‘It had to be done, Charlie.’
This was out of my hands
. He paused, almost a hesitation, then said quietly, ‘And do you honestly think I would have let anyone else question you?’

The anger rose hot and fast, a spurt of rage that starred my vision with pinpricks of exploding light. ‘Oh, and you think that makes it all OK?’ I demanded. ‘We’re back to choices again, and this wasn’t questioning – this was mental rape!’

His head reared back like I’d slapped him. ‘Charlie—’

‘What the fuck else would you call it?’ My voice had risen, harsh and bitter. ‘You came in here and you took what you wanted from me, regardless of my wishes. Regardless of whether I was even aware of what you were doing. But because it was
you
, you think that makes it
better
?’ I was close to shouting now, hands clawed, arms rigid and shaking, so the handcuffs quivered against the chair like the chains of a tortured ghost. ‘You think, when those four bastards raped me, years ago, the fact they weren’t total strangers somehow MADE IT BETTER?’

The silence that followed my outburst was deafening. Sean’s face set stone white, stone hard, with the exception of a muscle that jumped at the hinge of his jaw.

‘So, why didn’t you bring it up, yesterday, that you’d found those guns? he asked then, dogged.

‘Bane didn’t know about the guns – it was Nu,’ I said. ‘As soon as Bane found out about them, he ordered them broken up, got rid of.’

‘Convenient,’ Sean said dryly. ‘What about the getaway car they were tuning up – a Chevy wasn’t it? Or the list of dead ex-members?’ He paused. ‘You should have told us, Charlie.’

‘Ah! So, I was asking for it, is that what you’re saying?’

He brushed the jeer aside, ploughing on regardless of the pain I recognised this was causing him, even through the haze of my own. ‘Why didn’t you tell us that members of a known terrorist group had arrived at the compound?’

‘Because they hadn’t,’ I said, wrestling for control, to sound reasonable and rational. ‘The Debacle crew only turned up after you left. And there’s nothing sinister about it. As soon as they heard about the attack on Maria, there was no way Dexter was going to stay away. He’s father of her child, not Liam Witney.’

‘And if you knew that, the job was over.’ Sean let out a long breath and gave a sad little smile, glanced back towards the mirror. ‘I have to hand it to you,’ he said bleakly, speaking not to me but to someone behind the glass. ‘You knew exactly what bullshit story they were going to feed her.’

Story? What the hell
…?

Before I could argue, the door opened and Chris Sagar came in, smiling, smug with satisfaction. I jerked at my bindings in automatic response, the reflex snarl of a cornered animal. Less cocky, Sagar darted away, sidling around the far side of the table and taking the chair behind it. Sean leant on the wall to one side, watching us both.

‘You think you know the truth, Charlie, but they’ve been messing with your head. You see,
I’m
Billy’s father,’ Sagar said gently, as though breaking news I might find upsetting. ‘That’s why I left Fourth Day. Maria and I fell in love, but Bane decided I just wasn’t good enough for daddy’s little girl. He forced me out, and then broke her mind. All I’m trying to do here is rescue my son and see justice done. These people are dangerous fanatics.’

‘Fanatics?’ I snapped. ‘The only fanatic here is you, Sagar. What proof do you have? Does Epps know you’ve been feeding him bullshit about Bane running some mind-control
cult, when all the time you’re just desperate to get your hands on the land.’

Sagar laughed. ‘You must be even weaker than we thought, Charlie. I’ve never seen anyone swallow the line Bane’s selling so fast.’ He chuckled a moment longer, then shook his head, solemn. ‘The land’s worthless. I should know – it was offered to me at a rock-bottom price before Bane took over Fourth Day, and Epps knows that, but I can see from your face that Bane didn’t quite bring you up to speed. You can’t build on it or farm it. What possible value could it have?’

That rocked me. I glanced at Sean, unable to work out why he was allowing Sagar to lie to me. His expression gave no comfort. ‘What about the oil shale?’ But I heard the doubt in my own voice.

Sagar didn’t quite laugh again, but it was a close-run thing. Instead, he grinned at me. ‘Liam Witney found one or two interesting rocks, but they amounted to nothing,’ he said. ‘You think he would have gone all the way to Alaska if there’d been something worth protesting right there on his doorstep?’ He shook his head with sham regret. ‘Such a shame about that kid.’

‘What about the rest of it?’ I said, beginning to slip. ‘What about all the “psychological abuse” you claimed they’d subject me to?’ I checked Sean’s face again. ‘Surely you took the opportunity to ask what happened to me in there, when we were having our…cosy little chat.’

But it was Sagar who answered, all amusement gone. He indicated the last of the fading bruise on my cheek with a twist of his fingers. ‘You didn’t have to say a word for us to realise that Bane’s moved on a long way from mind games,’ he said with quiet seriousness.

‘Disappointed, Chris?’ I tossed at him. ‘That how you got your kicks, was it – breaking in the newbies?’

For a moment something flared behind the lenses of his glasses, then he caught himself and shook his head. ‘Nice try, Charlie,’ he said, sitting back in his chair. ‘You see, I told them, before you were brought in,
exactly
what fantasies you’d come out with. I know Bane’s methods well.’

‘Ah, yes, when you were his mythical “second in command”, hmm?’

He shrugged almost helpless to Sean. ‘What did I tell you?’ he said, conspiratorial now. ‘Next thing, she’ll be trying to convince you I sent John Nu after her.’

Before I could respond, the door opened again and Conrad Epps walked in. He looked arrogant and rested. Sean, by comparison, had the hollow-eyed stare of battle-weary troops during a brigadier’s front-line visit. And although Sean came upright, there was a tense readiness about him that was a long way from deferential respect.

Behind Epps, Parker Armstrong also stepped into the room, followed by Bill Rendelson.
Come to gloat have you, Bill?
It was starting to feel crowded in there.

Parker and Rendelson were in suits, and from the way my boss glanced sharply between us with narrowed eyes, he hadn’t been behind the glass for my interrogation. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Rendelson, not wanting to see the bitter recrimination on his face.

‘Thank you for your expertise, Mr Meyer,’ Epps said deliberately, ignoring me. ‘You’re finished here.’

Sean moved towards me, but Epps blocked him. I saw the way Sean’s eyes flicked and knew, if Epps attempted to physically restrain him, Sean was liable to break all the
man’s fingers before security laid theirs on a weapon.

‘Stand down,’ Epps said, the force of a cracked whip in his quiet voice. ‘We require Miss Fox’s presence for a while longer. You can have her back when we’re done.’

‘Done fucking with her head, you mean?’ Sean said, deceptively light. ‘No.’

Epps rocked back, moustache flaring like cat fur. He turned his head towards Parker as if expecting him to intercede. I couldn’t see Parker’s face, but if Epps’s reaction was anything to go by, it showed no sign of capitulation.

Sagar’s eyes, meanwhile, danced everywhere. Was his glee really only obvious to me?

‘No,’ Parker echoed. ‘I’m doing what I should have done last night, and taking Charlie out of here, right now.’

‘She may have vital intel about the internal layout of the compound, their current strength,’ Epps said. ‘She stays.’

To my shock, it was Rendelson who muscled forwards, got right in Epps’s face. He was shorter, but of a width, even if he was an arm down on the other man.

‘Enough,’ Rendelson growled. ‘You cut one of us, we all bleed. Go have your fun someplace else.’

Parker lifted a hand, as if to hold him back, and Rendelson subsided, glowering.

‘You’re the one who owes me the favour now, Conrad, so I’m calling in that marker,’ Parker said silkily. ‘Trust me on this, you do not want to get into a pissing contest with me right now. Not before a highly sensitive operation on US soil.’

‘Are you threatening me, Mr Armstrong?’ Epps sounded amused.

‘If that’s what it takes,’ Parker said. ‘Besides, I’m sure Mr
Sagar will be only too happy to draw all the diagrams you need on Fourth Day.’

It was satisfying that Sagar himself didn’t look thrilled at the prospect, but at least Epps was unlikely to pump him full of drugs before he asked for a map.

Epps nodded to someone on the other side of the glass, and a moment later one of his minions arrived with the keys for my cuffs. I rubbed at my wrists where the metal bracelets had rested, attempting to rid myself of their symbolic presence.

As I pushed out of my chair, I staggered and nearly fell. Sean caught me before I’d got anywhere near going down, was about to lift me into his arms when I said in a brittle voice, ‘Don’t.’

He froze.

‘If there’s one thing I want very much to do,’ I said steadily, ‘it’s to walk out of here under my own steam.’

He nodded at that, kept his arm around me until my legs had stabilised, then released me and stepped back. Much as I could hardly bear to have him touch me, having him let go was worse.

I glanced towards Bill Rendelson, but that brief flash of solidarity was hidden beneath his usual scowling countenance.

Epps’s people shadowed us back through a maze of offices and corridors until we finally reached the main floor of the hangar. As we passed through the final door, the noise levels rose dramatically. Not just from the normal activity of the airport going on outside the hangar, I realised with a sickening lurch, but the highly abnormal activity going on within it.

The place was swarming with personnel. Black-clad guys in SWAT uniforms, cleaning weapons and repacking kit. I recognised the rituals such men go through, just before a major fight.

At the far side of the hangar, near the entrance, were two Chevy Suburbans. Joe McGregor was leaning against the front wing of one, careful to keep the protective bulk of the engine block between himself and Epps’s men, I noted. His body language was casual, but his eyes never stopped moving.

As we reached the vehicles, our escort peeled away, formed a perimeter. Beyond them, I could see a couple of M3 Bradley Fighting Vehicles, and M728 Combat Engineering Vehicles, which were basically a tank with a bulldozer blade on the front. Epps must have brought them in by heavy-transport aircraft.

My God, I thought. They’re going to start a war
.

‘Charlie will ride with me.’ Parker cut across my thoughts, and his voice was the same one he’d used on Epps. For a moment, I thought Sean would argue anyway, but with a last dark look in my direction, he turned away without a word and climbed in alongside McGregor. Bill Rendelson slid awkwardly into the rear seat.

It was only when the reinforced door of the Suburban closed solidly behind me, and Parker cranked the engine, that I let my head drop back against the headrest and my breath escape me.

‘When are they going in?’ I asked as he swung a tight circle and headed out.

‘I don’t know, but the oil refinery visit is less than five days away, so you can bet it will be soon,’ Parker said as we
cleared the hangar and drove out into the brutal sunshine of a California afternoon.

‘Do you know how many women and children there are in Fourth Day?’ I asked. And when he shook his head, I added bitterly, ‘No, and I’m betting Epps doesn’t, either. I thought he wanted to avoid another Waco?’

Parker’s eyes slid sideways, met mine. ‘I think it’s too late for that now.’