One person can change the world. One person can tip the favor of balance against us. If this is so, then I say: Kill that person. No single person should have that kind of power.
~ Colonel Aina—Commandant of the Ministry of Defense War Colleges I1- 2072
Monday July 8, 2069
Alabama District 3
Commonwealth of North America
Agent Benjamin Anan stood by Sam’s hospital bed, frowning. “Listen, Rose, I’m not trying to belittle you. I know you’ve been through a traumatic experience, and I am trying to help you. Now, once more, who unlocked the handcuffs and helped you get out of the building?” The setting sun glinted off his gold pen as he waited for answers.
“Once again, I repeat, Dr. Emir unlocked the handcuffs the first time.”
“The Dr. Emir who died last week?”
“No, the Dr. Emir who killed that Emir last week.”
“His twin?”
Sam rolled her eyes. They’d been stuck on the same question since Anan showed up with breakfast, and even she was beginning to question what she’d seen.
“Come on, throw me a bone. I’m on your side.”
“Maybe it was his clone,” Sam finally said.
Anan snapped his notebook shut. “Thank you! That, at least, is something I can use in court. Time machines? Agents who are also serial killers? Do you know what a mess this is? And I’ve got to go to court to cover all of this as the bureau’s representative down here.” He looked longingly at the chair beside her bed.
“I was there for all of it, and if you’d sign the release paperwork, I’d handle this in court.”
“You know that can’t happen. If you represented the bureau’s case, it would become a game of he said she said. It’s already embarrassing enough.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
A nurse pushed aside the curtain. To Sam’s surprise, Lacey Altin scowled back at the two of them. “Officer, visiting hours were over ten minutes ago.”
“My apologies, Nurse, I just have a few more questions.”
“So does her doctor,” Lacey said, pushing the curtain aside and wheeling in a tray with a cocktail of drugs. “Now you either get on out of here, or I’ll put a shot of this painkiller in your butt and admit you for a concussion when you hit your head on the ground.”
Sam swallowed a giggle.
“Get!” Lacey Altin drew herself up to her full Valkyrian height and pointed at the door, chin trembling with fierce pride.
Anan held his hands up in surrender. “I’m going. Sorry. I didn’t realize things were that strict around here. Rose?” He slapped the door lintel. “If you think of anything, give me a call.”
“Bless his heart,” Lacey muttered. “How you doing?”
Sam shrugged. “I ache everywhere. Nothing makes sense. I want to go home, but I think I’m going to go to jail.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Do you think you can handle one more visitor?”
“Yeah. I won’t promise I’ll answer their questions, but they can come in.”
On cue, Detective Altin turned the corner holding a picnic basket. “Hey, Rose.” The distinct aroma of Miss Azalea’s fried chicken filled the room.
“Hi.” Her stomach grumbled. If he wasn’t planning on sharing that chicken, he was going to wind up in the bed next door with a broken arm.
Altin kissed his wife on the cheek. “Thank you, honey.”
“Ten minutes,” Lacey warned, “and then you have to be out of here.”
Sam motioned to the empty chair beside her. “Have a seat. Are you allowed to tell me anything?”
“Officially? No. That’s why I’m here after hours.” He propped the basket on his knee. “I swung by your place, had a quiet chat with your ME, and brought you some real food. Your landlady threatened to report police abuse if I didn’t see you were fed.”
Sam clapped her hands. “I’ll tell you everything, just feed me! Tofu burgers do not live up to the hype.”
With a chuckle, Altin set the basket on her bedside table. “All right, I think I got most of the story from MacKenzie. The machine you broke killed Melody. Marrins killed Robbins and Emir. It took a bit of doing, but we found the bullets, and they match the ones from the gun he had on him at the lab.” He sighed. “I was going to tell you on Monday. I’ve got the warrant and everything. I think Robbins was going to back out, tell someone what happened, and Marrins had a golden opportunity to silence Robbins and get you off the case.” He leaned back in his chair shaking his head.
“Marrins arranged the interview in D.C., so he could dump the body at my house?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. I should have let you know as soon as I suspected anything. After Emir’s death, the phone call you had . . . things started to click. I knew someone was trying to get you, but I didn’t figure Marrins would ever go that far. I feel guilty as hell.”
Lacey cleared her throat. After a stern warning look for her husband, she went back to silently counting out Sam’s pain pills.
Sam shrugged. “You told me it could be someone in the bureau. You warned me, and I didn’t want to believe you. Even if you had warned me about Marrins, I wouldn’t have believed you. There was no way I would have believed a bureau agent was involved.”
Altin crossed his arms with a frown.
It wasn’t worth arguing over. “When’s the trial start?” Sam opened the basket and pulled out a piece of greasy chicken. Heaven. Artery-clogging, horrible-for-your-hips heaven.
“Friday. Closed court. No jury. Since everyone involved was a government employee, they’ve decided to do a judges’ panel. I don’t think five of them is enough, but I’m old-fashioned like that. And they couldn’t find any other judges with the security clearance to see all the information. I don’t have clearance, but I will by Thursday.”
Sam was confused. “Mordicai Robbins wasn’t a government employee: he was a civilian contractor. So was Melody.”
“The murder cases won’t go to court. The guilty party is dead, case closed, justice done.”
There was a long silence. She knew what the next question had to be, the tension was gnawing at her, but still . . .” What about me? Do you know what’s happening to me?”
“Psych testing, physical therapy, and weekly mental-health meetings is my guess. I’m not entirely sure what Agent Anan is going to recommend. Except for the psych eval—I saw the paperwork on that. Kinkarri is a good doctor. You’ll like her.”
“What about Mac?”
“What about him?”
“Is he in trouble?”
Altin shook his head. “The bureau’s using him as the example of a national hero, swooping in to save the day at the last possible moment. No mention of the PD assist. We never get credit.”
“And neither do I? What the hell? I had things under control!” Sam protested. “Mostly.” Except for the fact I was probably about to be executed after I broke the machine. “I was trying at least. Why am I the victim?”
“You don’t want the answer to that,” Altin said.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Lacey cut in sarcastically. “That’s why she was asking. Here, honey, take these. That’s a good girl.” She patted Sam on the back as she swallowed the pills with a glass of lukewarm water.
Altin patted her good knee. “No one likes a self-rescuing damsel in distress, but you’ll survive. No one gets to the top of their field without getting some bad press.”
“Top of my field? Altin, all I want at the end of the trial is to still have a job!” Sam collapsed back onto her pillows.