Chapter Eighteen

Carter sucked on his mint, hoping it might help the whammy the Red Zombies laid on him last night. He observed his wife, seemingly fine and sitting with perfect posture, waiting for Deputy Director Fischetti to explain his cryptic text. Agent Deeprose sat to Carter’s left, looking, if possible, worse than he felt.

Fischetti grumbled and massaged the back of his neck. His clothes, the same ones he wore the night before, looked all mashed up. Deeprose asked him if he felt all right.

Fischetti glanced over Carter’s shoulder at his office couch in answer to her question. “I figured it would be easier to sleep here than to go home and come back again in a few hours.” He paused for a long moment, which heightened their collective concern. With a grim look of determination, he plunged ahead. “I’ve got some bad news, and it can’t wait. I felt it was only right to share it with all of you, in person.”

Fischetti detailed how General Breen had marched into his office last evening demanding the vial and all the data compiled from their lab tests by Monday. “We’ve got until tomorrow night to test it. Agent Seacrest, starting right now, you’re in the lab for one thing only - to find out exactly what this compound is and what it does. After that, unless you can pull a rabbit out of your lab coat, we’re done with this investigation. You have carte blanche to use any lab equipment necessary and any personnel you need. I’ll be blunt; I need you to work around the clock until the deadline. I’m not asking, Agent Seacrest.”

Seacrest nodded. “I understand, sir.”

Fischetti fiddled with his cell phone for a long moment. Then he pursed his lips and nodded his thanks. “Your superior guards his equipment better than Fort Knox protects its gold. I’ll run interference for you.” Fischetti folded his hands. “Now, down to cases. We are faced with highly unusual murders connected, we think, to an unclassified drug. Suddenly the D.O.D. is involved and obviously doesn’t want us to know anything more than we do now. That tells me it was made for a purpose, possibly by them. The info is classified; they won’t tell me a thing. Whether or not we feel our murder investigation trumps national security on this one, we don’t have a leg to stand on. I made every argument I could, but Breen finally showed his hand, and he’s holding all the aces.” Fischetti squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“Sir,” Carter cleared his throat. “We do know Michael attended a meeting of the Collective. We found traces of an unidentified substance in his blood and this morning confirmed that it matches the components in the vial we took from him. The two museum murders were committed within 72 hours of the meeting he attended. It’s circumstantial, but it’s still a good, solid lead. Agent Deeprose has uncovered a possible connection between the drug and the Collective. I think you should see right away.”

Fischetti suddenly came to full attention.

Deeprose piped up. “We know of at least one rally hosted through virtual technology, by someone bearin’ an uncanny resemblance to Senator Bill Pressman. We have a video taken by one of the attendees on his cell phone. He’s been very cooperative, sir, loanin’ us his phone an’ all.”

Fischetti’s eyes sparkled. “I begin to suspect your talents have been slightly overlooked, Agent Deeprose. Come on….let’s see it. Christ! A solid lead!”

Carter was cautious now. “Sir, we can’t be sure of the senator’s involvement. It may be a lookalike or an attempt to frame him.”

Fischetti waved a hand toward Carter. “We can pursue that lead at the same time we infiltrate the Collective and investigate their possible link to the drug and our murders. Right now, we need to verify that the video is real. I’ll get this down to the cyber team.”

Fischetti continued after he’d sent Liz to the cyber lab with the cell phone. “I asked her to come in this weekend to help out. Sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Fischetti coughed. “I’ll set up an interview with Senator Pressman. This interview has to be done with just the right kind of finesse, the kind that comes across as honest and inexperienced. If he feels safe enough, he might make a mistake while he’s talking. It needs a woman’s touch. Agent Deeprose, this one seems to be right up your alley. Pour on that southern ‘little old me’ act and charm the socks off him. Do whatever you think’ll work, but I want any Intel he might have, and I want it yesterday. Remember, any information we get from the senator, at this point, is purely voluntary, so no hardball.”

Carter was surprised that Fischetti was on to her.

Well, well, well….she can’t use that one on him anymore…what a shame.

Seacrest took a quick glance at her phone and began to squirm in her seat. “I think I should get right down to the lab, sir. Agent Carter, I’m going to need your help. Will you come with me?” The feisty agent looked hard at Carter. Marriage came with all kinds of hidden signals between couples. She wanted to see him alone.

“Certainly.”

Carter raced to keep up with Seacrest, who was already out the office door. “Jill, what’s going on? Why do you need me in the lab?”

Seacrest punched the elevator button. “No big deal, I just want to show you something.” Her eyes darkened. “Don’t worry, Carter. I’ll explain when we get down to the lab.”

Carter knew that breezy tone of voice and overly innocent look. She had something up her sleeve. She always did. Carter followed her into the elevator, resigning himself to whatever was coming next.

***

Back in the office, Fischetti lifted his phone off the receiver. “I’m going to set up the interview.”

Deeprose sat patiently while she waited. His hand was cupped over the receiver. “I think they’re finally putting me through to him.”

A few minutes later, he nodded and scribbled on a notepad. “Right away would be best. This is an urgent matter. I appreciate your cooperation, Senator.”

Ripping the paper from his pad, he handed it to Deeprose. “Looks like you’re flying to D.C. this afternoon. Go home and get some overnight things together. We’re done, Agent. Get going.”

“Alone, sir? You mean…alone?”

“Certainly. Don’t worry about a thing. Be yourself.” Fischetti laughed for the first time since she’d met him. “Boy, I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”

Has he lost his doggone mind? Ah’m a novice, for pity’s sake! What could be more important than havin’ Agent Carter lead the questionin’?

***

“Jill, what could be more important than staying for the rest of the meeting? What good am I to you in the lab?”

“You were always a good catcher.” Then she fell – face, first.

Carter lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Seacrest. “Jill! What’s the matter? Your pupils are dilated!”

“Are they? Take me home, Carter.”

He looked at her face again and began to sweat. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. But only half the vial. We still have something to turn over to the D.O.D.”

“I’m supposed to be heading out to Washington with Agent Deeprose right now!”

Seacrest’s eyes were glazing over quickly. “When Fischetti gave us the lowdown, I sent him a text right there in the meeting. He knows, Carter. This is the only way to test the drug before Monday morning. He didn’t like the idea but he agreed, and he knows you have to take care of me.”

“What?!”

“We don’t have a lot of time, Carter. You have to get me home.”

He went right over the top. “Are you both crazy?! Do you realize anything could happen to you? Brain damage? Death? You practically dropped dead in my arms just now!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Carter. It was my decision to make.”

“It was not! You’re my wife, Jill. You can’t just decide to jump out of an airplane without a parachute one day without discussing it with me first. Jill, why? Why would you risk everything for this?”

“For the same reason you risk everything on the job, Carter; it’s the right thing to do, and the only thing to do.”

He clutched her tightly. “Don’t you ever, ever do something like this again, do you hear me? Ever! If anything happens to you, Jill, I…I don’t know what I’d do…”

Safe in his arms, she faded away into oblivion.

***

Deeprose must have picked at the pills on her sweater a thousand times during her flight. Carter must have received new instructions requiring him to stay behind. She couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t told about them. It didn’t feel right, but right now her job was to interview Senator Pressman and observe his reactions. Deeprose assumed politicians were every bit as tight-lipped as the big brass were in the service. Everything was on a need-to-know basis, and it was a matter of course that you never needed to know.

She couldn’t imagine a senator having anything to do with a group like the Collective. What kind of past did Pressman have? There were no records of him prior to taking office, but his records may have been classified.

She’d have to tread lightly with him.

What kind of leverage would get me some candid answers?

***

Carter settled Seacrest into the cab while hoping against hope they wouldn’t have the kind of ride they had last night.

Will this turn her into a murderer? Maybe I should be ready for it, just in case.

“Hey buddy, my wife is feeling kind of ill. I’d appreciate a smooth ride, if possible.” Carter handed him a ten dollar bill from his suit pocket.

The cabbie smiled into the rear view mirror. “No problem, sir. Smooth as silk.”

Carter was scared to death and hopping mad.

No mantra ever invented could help me in a situation like this. Wait - now is exactly the time to use the calming mantra. Stop. Think. She doesn’t need anger now; she needs me to get her through this. Now get ahold of yourself before we get home.

Seacrest slumped against his shoulder. He pulled her across his chest and folded his arms around her. When she closed her eyes, he plunged himself into positive, rational thought. Carter was neither self-indulgent nor selfish; he knew that it was absolutely necessary to clear his mind of all thoughts of himself if he was to function on all thrusters for Jill. He slowed his breathing and inside his mind, he spoke the mantra.

Worry serves no purpose; it won’t change anything. I can feel the worry leaving me with every outward breath. I am human; I acknowledge these feelings, but I choose not to be ruled by them. Planning is better than worrying. Show her compassion and quiet strength. Let her know your thoughts lie solely on her.

“Are you O.k., honey? How do you feel?”

She answered shakily. “I’m O.K. I just want to get home.” She closed her eyes again and sighed.

That’s the way to do it. Better, Carter, you’re doing better.

Now, to continue…. Outward and inward displays of anger, fear, and control are selfish, useless and hurtful. They are distractions that solve nothing. They cloud my brain. Venting will not give me the relief I think it will. It adds to my problems and creates them for others, resolving nothing. I will not create bad karma when I need to generate all the help I can from a willing universe. With every outward breath I feel anger, fear, and the need to control leaving my mind.

Focus on Jill. Only on Jill. She needs me; she is my only concern, not myself. I feel all my fears leaving me with every outward breath so I can fill myself up with helpfulness. I am not in control of some things, but I can try to control the outcome of this situation. I can. I will. I feel the calm entering me with every inward breath. I can do whatever I have to do.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, Jill? Do you want to stop for some water?”

“No, just get me home.”

“Driver, is there any way to speed up the ride? We’ll sacrifice a smooth ride for speed.”

New York cabbies are the keepers of the sacred secrets of cutting through heavy city traffic at any time and on any day; it’s a trick of the trade on which they pride themselves. Enthusiastically, the driver replied, “Yes, certainly, sir! On a Saturday, the fastest way to get to the Upper West Side is by taking the F.D.R. Drive on the East Side and then cutting over. I’ll get you there in less than 15 minutes from where we are now.”

The taxi took off like it was being chased by the devil, himself. Carter braced himself and hung onto Jill. If it was a fast ride she wanted, a fast ride was what she was going to get.

There, now. You kept the lid on it, asked her what she wanted and calmly asked the driver if he could help. I’m going to have to remember that the tools work the best when you don’t want to use them at all. Now, where was I?

Part of his exercise to stay focused on the moment was to imagine himself filling up a glass with all his anxieties, and then, in his mind’s eye, watch himself pour them out onto the ground. He saw his worries seep into dry, thirsty soil, and he felt some relief. By the time they got home, Carter’s heart rate had come back to normal, and he was ready to focus on whatever lay ahead.

***

Deeprose settled into a seat before Senator Pressman and presented him with her most engaging and open smile. She’d done her homework. Pressman began his career in the military. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Your service to our country is truly appreciated.”

Pressman looked first surprised and then pleased. He relaxed his posture and smiled. “I’m pleased to make you’re acquaintance, Agent Deeprose, and thank you. Am I really getting that old, or are agents getting younger and younger all the time?”

Deeprose knew the dance had begun. She waved a hand in the air. “Shoot, you’re in the prime of life, Senator.”

She removed the phone from her pocket. “Senator, I’d appreciate it awfully if you’d allow me to ask a few questions pertainin’ to an ongoin’ investigation. We’re hopin’ you can shed some light on somethin’ that’s not makin’ sense to us.”

“I don’t know how I can help, but go ahead and ask.”

“What you’re about to see on this video might be shockin’, but Ah need you to be as forthcomin’ as possible when it’s over. Your thoughts might lead us in a new direction.”

As he observed the video, Pressman’s eyes grew into huge blue-gray buttons. The blood drained from his face, and then returned in a flood when he started yelling. “Where did you get this garbage? Is this some kind of joke? I may be fair game during an election year, but this is outrageous!”

Pressman was so red in the face, Deeprose thought he might have a stroke. She held up a hand as if she was a crossing guard. “Calm down, sir! No one believes this is really you. Ah’m here to find out who it is, though. This is not a joke, Senator. Will you please confirm that this is not you on this video? Why do you think someone would use your likeness and voice as a front for this operation? Sir, is there any chance you’re bein’ framed? Ah need to know everythin’ you can tell me.”

“Of course, it isn’t me! I have no idea who the hell it is! Why hijack my identity? Oh God - it must be all over the web by now! This will ruin me! Agent Deeprose, whoever this is, and I better find out just exactly that, I’m going to have him strung up so high he’ll be wearing his balls for a hat!”

“We have reason to believe this video is incitin’ people to murder. If you have any idea who could be behind it or why he’d try to make you the fall guy, it would be best if you told me now.”

Deeprose regretted the words as she soon as she spoke them.

Shoot! Ah practically accused him of collusion. Carter’s so much better at goadin’ people into confessions.

Pressman leapt from his seat and paced. His maroon leather chair spun in circles like one of those old records her father still had. Deeprose watched it turn, hoping that if the senator was going to unravel, he’d do it as quickly as his chair did and get it over with.

“I can’t think of anyone out to get me, if that’s what you mean.” He wrapped a hand around his chin. “Even if I had a name, I can’t very well give it to you without something more than a suspicion.”

“This video has already gone viral, sir. If you’re not goin’ to help us, y’all are just shootin’ yourself in the foot. Ah don’t think you have a choice. Ah need to know anythin’ y’all think might be relevant to this case; we’ll worry about interviewin’ our leads and collectin’ evidence.”

“Agent Deeprose, you don’t know the depth of the water you’re treading. My past is a matter of national security.”

His past? Ah didn’t say anythin’ about his past. Come to think of it, Fischetti mentioned that General Breen said over and over again that this was a matter of national security. Could he know we had a visit from General Breen? What else does he know about that visit?

“Sir, do you know of any new drugs that were designed or used to stimulate feelings of murderous aggression and fearlessness in an individual or a group of individuals?”

“What? No! How could I?” Pressman thrust his hands into his pockets. He turned toward the window, and in the light, she could see shiny beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Sir, Ah have it on good authority that some kinda drug is bein’ slipped to attendees that encourages them to commit murder.” She knew nothing of the sort. She had only Michael’s word on that, but it couldn’t hurt to fish a little.

“I already told you I know nothing about this!”

“But why are they usin’ you, sir? Don’tcha think that’s more than a little strange? More than a coincidence? Don’tcha have any idea why you’re bein’ set up and by whom?”

“This interview is over, Agent Deeprose. I expect this video to be buried. It should have been pulled the minute you found out about it! I want you to go straight back to New York and tell Fischetti to pull that video, and leave this problem to the big boys. If he has to do damage control by calling it a hoax, then that’s what he has to do for the sake of national security. This has to be kicked upstairs to the D.O.D. If you’re right about this, it’s out of your purview now.”

“Thank you, sir. Ah apologize for upsettin’ you, but unfortunately, it’s part of the job. Ah hope our lab can provide definitive proof that the man on the video isn’t you. Good day.”

Deeprose was positive he knew exactly what she was talking about and was purposely stonewalling her.

O.K., Mr. Senator, have it your way. Ah gave you every chance to come clean or help us. Now all bets are off.

She snatched up the cell phone and headed for the door.

“Agent Deeprose!”

She turned.

“I’m doing this for my country, damn it! You’re too young to…”

She left without hearing the rest.

***

Seacrest tossed and turned on the bed while Carter raced around their apartment looking for extra pillows and blankets. He hoped they might keep her from falling off and hurting herself. Just after they got home, she began saying there was someone she had to kill for everyone’s good.

He tried to minimize it for his own sanity.

She only took a half of a dose. She probably experimented with things like that in college, anyway. She’s trained to control her own behavior in the event that she’s given mind control drugs, so come on, Carter. No ‘what-ifs’.

Carter stroked her sweat-soaked hair. “Remember your training, honey.”

The drug was turning his wife into a monster. “He has to die, and I have to do it. He doesn’t deserve to live!” Spit flew from her mouth with the vehemence of her screams.

I can’t stand seeing her like this. When this is over, she has to learn caution and self-control. She has to! I can’t live with not knowing what crazy thing she’ll do next.

There were moments she struggled to remain rational to record the effects of the drug, but in other moments, she pounded her fists on the bed and ranted at some boy she must have known in school. “I’m going to wrap my hands around your head and squeeze it like a melon, Tommy Gardner!”

Carter admitted to himself the full scope of Seacrest’s situation. It was going to get far worse before it got better. If it got better. He was ashamed of what he was about to do, but it was for her own safety and protection. He removed his handcuffs from his belt and grabbed his wife’s left arm. The click of the cuffs sent Seacrest into a rage. Her mouth dove at anything closest to her, and teeth bared, she sank them into Carter’s hand, smiling in satisfaction.

“God!” Before he could shake it off, Seacrest dive bombed his free hand again. He barely evaded her attack. Throwing himself onto her, he used his own weight to restrain her as he struggled with the cuffs. A few dicey seconds passed until he heard a confirming click.

One hand successfully cuffed.

Carter eyed the bedpost to gage exactly what he’d have to do to secure the other hand without bloodshed and a tetanus shot.

“If…you’ll…just…cooperate…”

Jill spat in his face and howled. “Everyone knows you hunt for stray dogs and shoot them in your backyard! I saw you do it myself! I’ll kill you, you sick bastard! You killed those poor animals and liked it! You don’t deserve to live!”

Carter dragged her other arm to the bedpost and fastened it there while she was distracted.

At least, now, you won’t fall out of bed, or hurt yourself….or me.

Somehow, they made it through the night. Seacrest screamed for blood and Carter mopped her face and helped her drink as much water as she could take. By morning he was a wreck, and she was incoherent and vacant. The cell phone never left his side in case they needed an ambulance, but he’d already asked a neighbor to drive them there if push came to shove.

You could die a thousand times in this city before an ambulance could get to you.

Seacrest started screaming and tugging on the cuffs again. This time, the outwardly unflappable Carter disappeared altogether. His Zen tools went right out the window, completely forgotten. Carter walked in circles, trying to decide if they should stay here or go to the hospital when he noticed the metallic clinking of handcuffs against the iron bedpost. It gave Carter an idea.

Sound!

He bounded across the room and began searching for the wireless speakers Seacrest had given him for Christmas last year. When they didn’t readily appear, he started grabbing the unpacked boxes and dumping them out on the floor in piles and heaps.

Ah! Finally!

Carter commanded his voice assistant to play something very special. The assistant obeyed, and the speakers came to life.