WITH HIS EYES FIXED on his open hands, Bill Johnson couldn't stop thinking about this awful night that had now turned into a Monday morning. He sat at his desk unable to concentrate on anything except the loss of Ashley. It was so horrible, so shocking, and so sudden his mind didn’t accept the truth. He covered his face with hands that soon became wet. His shoulders shook. It wasn't right.
On the floor he saw the paper airplane he’d made to tease her. He picked it up, crushed it into a ball, and threw it in the wastebasket. Ashley represented the best of the young people of today–smart, dedicated, determined, and able to take whatever came her way and keep going.
The cell phone in his pocket vibrated, alerting him to a call. He decided to ignore it, then thought it might be Walter, cloistered in his office upstairs. Bill touched the home-key and the phone came alive. The telephone icon had a number one circled in the corner. He tapped it and a picture flashed on the screen. A face smeared with dried blood and many wounds looked at him. A familiar face. Ashley's face. A rush of adrenaline surged through his body. He screamed, “Ashley you're alive!”
His pulse raced as he checked the send-date and time: today one minute ago. He stared at that battered face. The eyes were red rimmed, but he felt they talked to him. They said, I'm here, come get me.
Johnson bolted from his office and climbed the stairs faster than he had in many years. Out of breath, he rushed into Kent's outer office. A somber Dorothy Hogan turned toward him. Kent's door, always open, now stood shut.
Between gulps of air he asked, "Is he in there, Dorothy?"
"Yes, but don't go in. He's hurting and needs his private space right now."
Without a word, Johnson leaned over her desk and placed his phone in front of her. Dorothy braced herself. "Is that Ashley?” She clutched her throat. "You mean she's alive?"
"Yes. That's Ashley as of," he checked his watch, "four minutes ago."
She moved her hand from her neck to her mouth. "Oh my God, look at the poor thing." She touched Bill's arm. "How bad is it?”
"We're going to find out. Let's go in." She nodded. They both walked to the door, knocked, and then entered. Bill Johnson had never seen his boss so wretched and distraught as he appeared at that moment. After the explosion in the Nevada desert, Walter controlled his emotions as he would at any crime scene. But that brave front was gone now, replaced with slumped shoulders, puffy eyes and a face full of pain.
Bill and Dorothy glanced at each other, then Bill moved forward. "Walter, I have some good news. I received a selfie."
Walter squared his shoulders. "A selfie?"
"Yes. I got this a few minutes ago." Bill showed him the phone image.
There was a moment of silence. Walter raised his head. "This is Ashley." Bill nodded. "When was this taken?"
"Time dated six minutes ago"
Kent pushed his chair back a few feet as the reality of Ashley being alive took hold. "How did you get this?"
"It popped up on my phone. Someone we care about sent it to me...to us I believe."
Kent came alive as if waking from a bad dream. With a nervous laugh he said, "This is a miracle!" Their faces brightened and all three gathered in a group hug followed by an awkward, joyous celebration that lasted a full minute.
Walter calmed down. "Let's see that picture again. Ashley looks like she's gone through hell. Do you know where she is?"
Bill shook his head, "Not yet."
Dorothy studied the image. "My sister's a nurse. That’s a monitor for vital signs like blood pressure, and heartbeat in the background.”
Bill agreed. "A hospital. That makes sense, considering the shape she's in. The question is, what hospital? I'll trace the call." Within minutes he learned the call originated from Nellis AFB.
Walter felt convinced Ashley sent the picture from the base hospital. With the speakerphone on he got through to the Nellis operator a few minutes later, and asked to speak with the commanding officer. The operator switched him over to General Brunel's administrative assistant, who asked the nature of his business. He explained it had to do with an FBI investigation that affected the General.
"Good morning, this is General Brunel. How may I help you?"
"I understand you have one of our agents on your base. FBI Special Agent Ashley Kohen."
"Who is this?"
”Special Agent in Charge Walter Kent, Albuquerque Field Office."
"What makes you say I have one of your agents here?"
"It's not a guess, General Brunel. I know she's there." He winked at Dorothy. "I need to talk to her about a current investigation."
The general didn't answer.
"General Brunel, I'm waiting."
"I'm not at liberty to discuss this matter with you, sir."
"Agent Kohen is a federal law enforcement officer, and I'm her superior. I expect your full cooperation, General. It's urgent."
Another moment of dead air.
"I have my orders, Mr. Kent. I suggest you take this talk with your superiors. That's all I have to say. Have a good day." The line went dead.
Bill Johnson screwed up his face. "He didn't deny she's there, nor did he confirm it. That’s a no denial confirmation."
Kent agreed. "It's time to call Director Delong."