Still, the odd notion had worked its way
into his brain solidly enough
for him to physically start when he felt the weight of
Karen's stare on him.
The same challenge present in her eyes as when she'd
directed her words to Alex Drako, Karen held Kermit's
shielded gaze long enough to instill a strange mixture of
discomfort and reassurance in his gut. "And you, Detective
Griffin, owe me enough trust to do this my way." She paused,
and Kermit swore her misplaced faith in him made her eyes
shine like sapphires. "For now. If I fail, there'll still be
time to
settle this your way."
Kermit hesitated, then decided he could trust Karen even if
he couldn't trust himself. He inclined his head in
agreement. "I'm willing to examine the documents." His own
set of said documents rested unopened in his trouser pocket,
its presence a nagging burden. All the damn paperwork could
do was reinforce Drako's thirst for vengeance. Yet ...
"And I'm willing to keep my word." Drako's voice cut into
his reverie, silencing Kermit's thoughts. "It's your game,
Captain. For the moment."
"If you'll join me, I'll show you the proof you want."
Kermit watched Drako move toward the desk, then crossed to
stand on Karen's other side. Both he and Drako had lowered
their guns, he noted. Neither had relinquished his weapon,
but both pistols' muzzles were pointed downward.
"Make this good, Captain. Your lover's future -- whether he
has one, that is -- depends on this."
Kermit stiffened as Drako leaned over the desk, his arm
brushing against Karen. In the fraction of an instant before
his mercenary instincts would have caused him to lunge for
the other man's throat, a whisper of a touch met his hand.
Karen's fingers closed around his own, the quick pressure
they exerted reassuring him she was all right. Another
quality was present as well in the familiar sensation of her
hand in his, he realized, and his mind finally completed his
earlier thought. As certain as he was that these documents
could only bolster Drako's case, Karen believed otherwise.
Was it possible? Could she be right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Half an hour. Blake consulted his watch, scanned the bullpen
to determine the level of interest in his actions, and
stared at Kermit's office door. No one was paying him any
undue attention, as far as he could tell. No better time
than the present, he concluded. Half an
hour was long enough.
Resolve wavering, he shook his head. Maybe he'd give it a
little longer before he invaded the lion's den. Kermit had
been gone *only* half an hour, after all.
His decision lasted less than a minute. If Kermit's hasty
departure had as much to do with a certain Alex Drako as
Blake figured it did, he also figured his friend probably
needed back-up more than he'd ever admit he did. And if that
were the case ...
Blake rose and ambled over to Kermit's office.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The Mossad? How terribly convenient that there's an
intelligence service out there noted for its use of
assassination to accomplish its goals. May I?" Drako asked
with exaggerated politeness, pointing toward the papers to
which Karen had directed his attention.
"Be my guest. As I've said, all the documentation I have
here is for your perusal." Karen handed Drako the papers in
question as she spoke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Told you you wouldn't have found it if it was one of mine,"
Blake muttered as he unscrewed the mouthpiece of Kermit's
phone receiver and removed the tape recorder activator his
friend had never even suspected was concealed in the
handset. Crossing to the file
cabinet, he allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation
at his own ingenuity. Hiding the recorder under the false
panel in Kermit's own bottom file drawer had been a stroke
of genius, if he did say so
himself.
Recorder half out of the compartment, Blake froze at the
sensation of someone's breath close to the back of his neck.
He ignored his colleague long enough to complete his task,
confident his failure to hear the door open or close told
him who else was here. Straightening, he turned to face
Peter. "I suppose you want in on this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Drako examined the pages closely, then dropped them onto the
desktop, his entire manner conveying disgust. "Rather
byzantine hiring procedure, don't you think? Let me see if
I have this straight." Pronouncing each word with marked
distaste, Drako summarized, "The
CIA, rather than use its own resources, hired a mercenary to
retrieve a stolen virus and execute the supposed thief. But
wait, the CIA couldn't have its name associated with the
mission. That just wouldn't
do. So in an inspired moment of inter-agency cooperation,
the Pentagon actually did the hiring, even though the
Company hand-picked the assassin. And, oh yes, there was a
pesky matter of an executive order
barring CIA assassinations. So the DOD detached the
operative to the Mossad, where he was technically an
employee of the Israeli government subject to Israeli laws,
and paid his salary to the Mossad as foreign aid. And then
the Mossad paid the assassin money that came from his own
government in the first place. Is that an accurate
assessment?"
"Essentially." Karen shrugged. "I never claimed the
government's methods in planning this mission were anything
other than labyrinthine."
Drako slammed his hand against the desktop. "You offered me
proof of the truth. All I've seen so far are forgeries.
Rather clever forgeries, I'll admit, but forgeries
nonetheless." Shock entered Karen's gaze. "You thought I'd
buy the notion these were carbon
copies of typewritten documents, I suppose?"
"You thought the originals would be taken out of the safe
for something this trivial?" Kermit scoffed. "I guess Quirk
didn't teach you as well as I thought. If he had, you'd know
covert operatives are expendable -- especially if they're
contract employees. No one's
going to risk the originals getting into the wrong hands,
even now. And back then the carbons either got burned or
went into the vault along with the originals."
"Am I supposed to buy this act of desperation?"
"I'd suggest suspending judgment on the authenticity of
these documents until you've learned the rest. And I *can*
authenticate them if I need to." Karen sifted through the
sheaf of documents still before her. "Let's move on. The
mission brief. Details of what intelligence had been
gathered about the virus's theft and your
father's intentions. Anticipated defenses and strategy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Meet me in one hour at the Kensington warehouse on Third,
at the north end of the industrial park." Blake shut off the
tape recorder resting atop Kermit's file cabinet and
resisted the urge to sneak another look at his watch.
"This is what Kermit's been trying so hard to keep me out
of, isn't it?" Peter's query was a shade too casual to be an
idle question.
Blake nodded, leaning back against the file cabinet. "Next
question."
The last inquiry he expected was the one he heard next.
"You're not going to explain any more of this to me than he
would, are you?"
"Nope." Blake waited, anticipating Peter's next words.
When Peter replied, Blake realized he could have predicted
exactly what he would say. "Looks like we better get over to
the Kensington warehouse and back him up."
Blake waved a hand toward the office door. "After you."
Peter opened the door and paused, one hand on the door knob.
"Sure, go back him and Captain Simms up. Don't tell Peter
*why* we're backing them up or what the story is with this
Drako character. He might understand."
Blake shook his head as Peter walked out of the office and
called after him, "Don't think I didn't hear that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kermit listened to Karen read the mission brief aloud,
allowing the memories to wash over him. Surveillance
reports, coinciding with Drako's history of erecting similar
defenses, indicated a small army posted as sentries around
the man's suspected hideout, two or three bodyguards
stationed at his side at all times. Orders were to retrieve
*all* vials of the virus before they could be used or sold
and to execute Kevin Drako -- unless he could bring him in
peacefully.
Suspicions Drako had a partner ran rampant in the
intelligence trade, and rumor had it the DCI himself wanted
both men taken down badly enough to offer Drako a deal if he
fingered his associate. As a result, orders were to give
Kevin Drako one last chance to turn himself in, executing
him if he refused. When Karen finished reading, Kermit shook
himself out of his absorption in the past and refocused his
attentions on the younger Drako.
Alex Drako's silence bristled, fury evident in his every
movement. Yet he offered no argument as Karen moved on to
the debriefing transcript.
Hearing Karen read his own matter-of-fact recitation of the
events of that night eighteen years before had to be *the*
most surreal thing to happen to him in a life full of
surreal events, Kermit decided. Neither judgment nor
distaste colored her words as she
recounted in excruciating detail his discovery Drako's
security was down to two, his killing of both guards outside
the hut, and his face-off with a lone Kevin Drako, who drew
his own gun on Kermit.
"Liar!" roared Alex Drako. "My father was unarmed when he
was shot and killed in cold blood. Quirk witnessed the
aftermath of the murder you committed. He told me
everything."
"Apparently not," Karen rejoined. She turned to Kermit. "Did
you ever wonder why Drako's security was so light?"
He snorted and gestured toward the transcript of his
debriefing. "You can stand there and ask after reading that?
With all the questions they asked me then and over the next
three days about whether I was sure there weren't others
who'd escaped? I've asked myself that question a hundred
times, wondered whether it meant Drako was on the verge of
turning himself in, wondered if he was torn and my taking
the mission tipped the balance against his giving himself
up. I've never found the answer." He added slowly, "Not even
in my nightmares."
"I have. Quirk pulled the guards. He set you up then to get
rid of a partner who'd become a liability." Karen turned to
Drako. "And he's setting you up now to get rid of his
nemesis. And I have the tape to prove it."
END PART 28
Part 29
Drako raised his pistol, bringing its barrel within inches
of Karen's temple. Sheer willpower kept the Desert Eagle at
Kermit's side as he assessed the situation, trying to
determine whether he could get off a shot at the younger man
without putting Karen in the line of fire.
The tremor in her hand visible only to Kermit, Karen
withdrew a micro-cassette from her jacket pocket. "Mr.
Drako, if you shoot me without listening to this tape,
you'll never know whether I was telling you the truth."
"You weren't the one I was planning on killing." The gun in
Drako's hand didn't waver, belying his words.
"And if you pull that trigger before you know if your mentor
can be trusted, you'll always wonder whether you killed the
wrong man," Karen returned. "If justice truly is what you
seek, what harm can it do to listen to my conversation with
Quirk?"
A bit more rapid than her normal speech pattern, Karen's
firm and reasoned delivery of those words told Kermit her
determination to clear his name had begun to border on
despair. Ironically, for the first time since Drako's
initial contact with her, he didn't share that sense of
futility. Karen believed in him.
She knew his past had included assassinations and still she
trusted him with her life.
Damn. Everyone who'd tried to get him to tell her the truth
had been right. She loved him the same way Annie loved Paul,
the same way Mary had loved Blake -- unconditionally,
accepting the past, no matter what
fresh hell life chose to throw at them. Karen wasn't going
anywhere. And because she hadn't listened to him, there was
now a chance ....
"What harm can it do to listen, Drako? You can always kill
me later." Kermit reached for Karen's hand and returned the
favor she'd done him earlier, briefly squeezing her fingers
in reassurance. "Or have you
been lying all along, like your father and your mentor?
Maybe you're just as much a killer. Maybe what you want is
revenge, not justice."
Time froze for what seemed an eternity before Drako lowered
his weapon. "I'm a man of my word, Griffin. I do want
justice." He smirked as he added, "I suppose I can afford to
waste some time listening to this tape before I move on to
the next step of my plan."
"The time spent won't be wasted," Karen vowed, slipping the
cassette into the tape deck and pressing the play button.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he drove toward the warehouse district, Peter reviewed
all he knew about Drako. Damn it, he still didn't have a
clue as to exactly what was going on. But Blake knew.
He'd bet his bottom dollar that Blake pretty much knew
*everything* about whatever Kermit and Captain Simms were
involved in. Peter tightened his grip on the steering wheel
as he made a right turn, less
out of a need for greater control over the car on the slick
road than out of frustration over the way everyone was
stonewalling him. Asking had gotten him nowhere so far --
with Kermit, with Captain Simms, or with Blake. A sidelong
glance at the other detective's grim, yet closed expression
told him he wasn't likely to get any further now.
Maybe if he talked the whole thing out ... He studied Blake;
tension rolled off the other man in waves, despite his calm
demeanor. Unless Peter missed his guess, Blake shared his
fear they wouldn't get there in time to stop Drako from
turning the situation deadly. Maybe talking the whole thing
out would chisel away at the wall his colleague had erected
so Peter could get at least part of the story out of him.
Maybe. Hell, it was worth a shot.
"You know, I was probably the first one to talk to this
Drako character," he mused aloud, taking his eyes off the
road long enough to catch any potential reaction. The lack
of one might have been because Blake was *that* good at
concealing his response or because
Simms had already shared the information with him. Peter's
money was on the latter. "He asked for me by name.
Supposedly had information on a murder committed by a cop.
From the sound of the call you taped, I'm guessing the cop
he was accusing was Kermit."
Blake didn't answer. Then again, Peter admitted ruefully, he
hadn't really expected him to reply.
"Anyway, when I took that first call and tried to get
information out of the guy, he wouldn't tell me a damn
thing. Just insisted on speaking to Captain Simms." Peter
stopped short, a dim memory gnawing at the corners of his
brain. He mentally replayed the previous
morning's phone call once, then a second time, and finally
latched onto what was bothering him. "Wait a minute. The
first time he called, Drako never asked to speak to Captain
Simms by name, just to speak to the precinct commander. But
he did ask for me by name. Shit. He didn't know about Simms
taking over the 101st, did he, Blake?" Without waiting for
an answer, Peter rushed on, "He was using me to get to Paul.
Whatever he's threatening to expose -- Paul was involved."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anticipating the portion of the tape that would play next,
Karen sent up a silent prayer this would work. It was
Kermit's last chance.
So far, Drako hadn't exhibited much emotion despite hearing
Quirk brag about how close he'd been to the big score
eighteen years ago and how he'd then bided his time until
one of Kevin Drako's sons came to him
for the supposed truth about their father's death. She'd
briefly seen pain flicker in the young man's eyes when Quirk
boasted of how easily he and Kevin had breached Fort
Detrick's security in order to steal the virus and of the
vast sums involved in the deals he had brokered. But Drako
had listened to Quirk's confirmation of the evidence she had
shown him as stonily as though he wasn't at all affected by
the knowledge his mentor had lied to him for years. As a
result, Karen wondered if his quest for vengeance had
unhinged him enough to kill Kermit no matter what he
learned.
Quirk's recorded voice penetrated her thoughts, telling
Karen her trump card was being played. "Don't you find it
ironic that Griffin's love of his country will be his
downfall? If he'd paid more attention to money and less to
duty ..."
Kermit flinched at the words, and Karen caught his reaction
out of the corner of her eye. She sighed, annoyance and
compassion warring in her heart. How in the world could a
man who time and again proved his honor by his actions doubt
his own capacity for ethical behavior when his integrity was
acknowledged, even as a backhanded compliment, by others? In
many ways, Kermit was the most moral man she'd ever known,
and she was damned if she was going to allow Alex Drako to
smear his good name.
Renewed hope fueling her determination to neutralize the
threat Drako posed, Karen returned her full attention to the
young man as she heard Quirk's assessment that his father
had gotten "a little too sloppy -- enough so that taking him
out of the game looked like the only option." A livid white
line formed around Alex Drako's tightly compressed lips as
his eyes widened and glazed over. His apparent shellshock
lasted until they heard the boast that "Kermit doesn't know
it yet, but I'm the one who made it easier than it should
have been to get to my dear friend Kevin." Fury instantly
replaced the mixture of disappointment and confusion in
Drako's eyes, as though a switch had been flicked somewhere
deep inside him.
Without looking in his direction, Karen could sense Kermit
preparing to strike. She reached to lay a hand on his arm,
staying his actions before he could move to position himself
between her and Drako. When he resisted, she inclined her
head toward the recorder, the movement occurring as Quirk's
promise to enlighten her further once Kermit was dead gave
way to her own continued probe for the facts surrounding
Kevin Drako's death. Silence followed her words encouraging
Quirk to share the history he claimed to have made that
night. Kermit's muscles tensed under her hand; she allowed
herself the luxury of glancing away from Drako to offer her
lover a smile. She hoped her smile conveyed her newly
regained certainty all would work out in his favor.
Tension filled the room as the dead air on the tape
continued. Karen counted off the seconds in her head.
Quirk's silence seemed longer now than it had when she'd
recorded this interrogation, damn it, so much
so that she almost jumped when he began to speak again. She
wasn't the only one caught off guard, she realized as she
heard a slight hitch in Kermit's breathing, the sound
unexpected enough she missed
Quirk's identification of his long-dead leak within the
Company.
"... and once he informed me the Director had brought
Blaisdell in on the strategy sessions, the only question
left was whether it would be Blaisdell or Griffin who'd
carry out the mission. I'm sure you can guess the answer,
Captain. Your predecessor had a family, your
lover didn't, which made him more expendable. Then, of
course, there was the matter of a certain history between
Kermit and our friend Kevin. All in all, the powers that be
determined Kermit would be the wiser choice for this
assignment. Fools! They thought that after the missions
they'd done together Kevin might back down if it was Kermit
who came after him."
Quirk paused. Karen held her breath, waiting for the
acknowledgment Alex Drako would never expect. "Most in the
trade wouldn't have given Kevin a chance to turn himself in
and finger his partner, even with orders from on high. I
suppose I'm lucky Kevin was too wrapped up in thoughts of
the grand life our little venture could provide to be
tempted by that offer." Contempt laced Quirk's voice as he
went on, "God, that must have been quite a sight -- Kevin
feeding his own delusions of grandeur while Kermit tried to
persuade him to confess. And Kermit *would* have
given him that opportunity. He always was one of the few
with an overdeveloped sense of morality -- just like
Blaisdell."
END PART 29
Part 30
Even now, filtered through the recorded medium, Quirk's
laughter sent a chill down Karen's spine. "It's a pity
Kermit was never more interested in capitalizing on his
skills," he drawled. "A partnership with him could have
proved rather intriguing. Not to mention profitable.
Whatever his faults, Kermit always was a calculating son of
a bitch. I would have been able to count on *him* keeping
his eye on the bottom line."
"Kevin Drako didn't?" Karen expected her query to elicit a
defense of his father -- or, at least, of his father's
skills -- from Alex Drako. Instead, he leaned forward, as
though closer proximity to the tape deck could alter Quirk's
admissions.
"Never trust a man that obsessed with amassing power to do
what's best for business. Enough of the virus had fallen
into our hands for us to satisfy all comers, and I had
several bidders lined up. We could easily have made enough
of a killing -- if you pardon the expression -- to live in
the lap of luxury for fifty or sixty years." A harsh burst
of laughter punctuated the statement. "But Kevin got greedy.
He wanted it all. Not merely the riches within our grasp,
but for the world to bow down before him. He'd done a
mission or two near that village, thought it would be the
perfect place to unleash the virus and watch what happened.
Remote enough to serve as a logical hideout, but with a
water supply -- a rather primitive one at that -- close at
hand to use as a delivery system."
"Your test case, so to speak?" In retrospect, Karen wasn't
altogether certain how she'd kept her voice neutral, rather
than allowing her disdain for the scheme to bleed through.
"When he first suggested it, it seemed an appropriate
solution. The terrain was familiar. We both had contacts in
Nicaragua who'd be more than willing to enter our employ.
Why not try the virus out on a bunch of peasants and
demonstrate its effectiveness as a weapon to our bidders?
For instance, a certain Palestinian splinter group wanted
the virus badly, but was reluctant to meet our price. A
successful demonstration would have had quite an effect on
its leaders' willingness to negotiate."
"So that's why the Mossad was so eager to 'officially'
bankroll the recovery of the virus. They must have known
that the prospect of its being used against Israel was a
clear and present danger." Karen would have thought Kermit's
whisper barely loud enough to carry to her own ears if she
hadn't seen recognition of the truth of his deduction spark
in Drako's eyes.
Again, she'd been distracted enough to miss a couple of
sentences, she realized, picking up on Quirk's words
mid-sentence. "... had to be disposed of. So I made sure it
was simple for Kermit to get to him and then I sat back and
let him do my dirty work for me."
"Fucking bastard set me up!"
Karen's jaw dropped as she watched Alex Drako stab his
finger at the recorder's off button, silencing his gloating
mentor. At the fringes of her peripheral vision, Kermit
clenched the Desert Eagle's grip so tightly his knuckles
whitened. Only a second or two elapsed before his strained
voice broke the eerie hush that enveloped the room. "You
weren't the only one he set up. At least you found out what
Quirk was planning *before* you let him maneuver you into
pulling the trigger."
"I was under the impression my father never got off a shot.
Or was that yet another of the many lies around which it
seems I've built my life?" Drako's monotone frightened Karen
more than would have a shout whose volume rivaled the
thunder outside.
Kermit matched the lack of inflection in the younger man's
voice when he clarified, "I was talking about myself. Maybe
if I'd had all the facts about Quirk's involvement before I
confronted your father, I could have persuaded him to turn
himself in." He paused and drew in a deep breath, his need
to steady himself before continuing glaringly apparent to
Karen. "If I hadn't allowed Quirk to play me for a fool, I
might have questioned Kevin's lax security more intently.
And if I'd brought that up, he might have realized his
partner had sold him out and given up peacefully."
Drako hesitated, his expression betraying an inner struggle
between several conflicting emotions Karen couldn't quite
identify. She narrowed her eyes, allowing her gaze to dart
between him and the tape deck, then came to a decision. "A
few minutes ago you denied your father had been armed that
night. Yet you just argued he never got off a shot, thus
implying he was indeed armed. Don't you think it's time to
finally resolve the contradiction? You wanted the truth.
There's more on this tape I believe you need to hear."
"I have a fair idea of what may come next." Before she could
turn the recorder back on, Drako reached across the desk and
did so himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter made a sharp left into the industrial park, then
spared his silent passenger another curious glance. No
matter what he did, he couldn't shake the feeling there was
more to whatever was going on than anyone realized. Somehow,
Paul was involved in this.
Since that piece of the puzzle fell into place several
minutes before, every effort Peter made to figure out
exactly what Kermit and Captain Simms were involved in took
him full circle to Paul's connection to whatever Drako was
threatening to expose. Paul was involved. The words echoed
in his brain, and Peter sighed. He needed to know how, but
trying to get any information from Blake was like pulling
teeth.
Thunderclouds loomed ahead, darkening the sky to the point
where the streetlights illuminated little more than they did
in the dead of night. He was in the dark, damn it, in more
ways than one. To this day, he didn't know the real reason
Paul had left. He'd stake his life on that, just as he'd
stake his life on his suspicion Paul's decision to leave was
connected in some way to protecting his family from an enemy
made long ago. Maybe Drako's calls were the key to the
truth.
But he sure as hell didn't understand everything unfolding
now, and he doubted there was much of a chance he'd ever
find out how Paul was involved. Trying to get Kermit to tell
him anything would be next to impossible; sometimes he
thought his friend lived to devise creative ways to avoid
truthfully answering questions about his past. And now Blake
was acting just as secretive. Damn.
Out of the corner of his eye, he registered Blake's intent
interest in the tracking device he held gingerly in his
right palm. "Where to?" Part of Peter wondered whether Blake
would actually answer him or just point. A few seconds went
by without a response, and he remarked, "You know, this
silence of yours is beginning to wear pretty thin."
Blake glanced up and looked around as though trying to place
their location, then back down at his palm. Pointing with
his left hand, he spoke the first words he'd uttered since
they left the 101st. "Take the next right. They're at the
Kensington warehouse."
"We knew that already. We heard the recording of Kermit's
call from Drako, remember? Why risk pissing Kermit off
further by planting a homing device on him?"
"Kermit's not the one I'm tracking." Blake paused, then
added, "And Simms' car's been stationary since we left the
precinct."
"OK. So what does this have to do with Paul? And what the
hell is this all about? Want to clue me in before we get to
the warehouse?"
Silence.
Peter gritted his teeth, tamping down his impatience as best
he could. "Fine, let's take it from the top. I know
Kermit's in some trouble that has to do with the phone calls
from this Drako character, and you and Captain Simms know
what it is. So let me ask you again. What the hell is going
on?"
No answer, no reaction. He had to hand it to Blake, Peter
thought. So far, he was approaching Kermit in the
stonewalling department. He'd never known Blake could be so
stubborn. The standard joke around the precinct claimed you
could get Blake to do almost anything you wanted without
encountering any trouble at all, and he'd often thought
there was some truth behind the theory. He rolled his eyes.
Blake inclined his head toward the front of the car. "Here
we are. No sense in letting Drako know we're coming."
Peter stopped his car next to Kermit's green Corvair,
exchanged nods with Blake, and stepped out of the car. Both
men pulled their service revolvers out of their holsters
before moving toward the warehouse entrance. One way or
another, Peter vowed, he was going to get the answers he was
looking for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"... had the foresight her husband lacked," Quirk's taped
voice derided. "When I delivered the news of her husband's
death, Maggie was sensible enough to understand the truth
about his ... last job had to remain hidden if her sons were
to get anywhere in life. Especially since she was under the
impression he'd stolen the virus to prove a point. It would
never have occurred to her to tell anyone of my involvement
in our grand plan. As far as she was concerned, Kevin
masterminded a noble effort to demonstrate how lax the
government's security was. An effort I agreed to assist him
with. And as far as she knew, everything went horribly
wrong, we were sold out by those we'd recruited to help us,
and I discovered the betrayal too
late to stop Kevin from being killed by a government
desperate to cover up its mistakes."
Kermit watched confusion and disillusionment touch Alex
Drako's face as he listened to Quirk. Karen's wary
expression told him whatever was yet to come had the
potential to set the younger man off like the proverbial
powder keg. Reflexively, he tightened his grip on the Desert
Eagle once more and waited for Quirk's next gloating
revelation.
"Ten years ago, Maggie stumbled upon some old financial
documents. Ironic, actually, that I'd been hunting for
Kevin's account for so many years with no success and she
discovered it without even trying."
"Didn't expect it to be in Liechtenstein, did you, Quirk?"
Kermit muttered, missing the next sentence or two on the
tape.
"Maggie saw the money as her family's security. She had no
right to it. Kevin moved the money we'd already made from
the virus offshore right under my nose, and now his widow
thought *she* had the right to lay claim to *my* money."
Quirk's voice dropped, the decreased volume lending a more
sinister edge to his tone. "I couldn't allow her to take
away my earnings, not to mention the interest they'd
accumulated, a second time. Not after all the work I'd put
into being such a close friend to Kevin's family.
The accident was quite simple to arrange. But then --"
The click of the off button reverberated through the
suddenly quiet room, the combination of the sound and a
simultaneous clap of thunder oddly reminiscent of the crack
of a gunshot some distance away. Kermit's finger inched
closer to the Desert Eagle's trigger, withdrawing to its
previous position only when he saw Drako rewind the tape and
hit the play button.
"... accident was quite simple to arrange."
Drako repeated the process twice more, the rage that
darkened his face steadily increasing. The last time, when
he stopped the tape, he began to bring up his gun hand.
Kermit tensed, but some incomprehensible instinct made him
refrain from taking action against the younger man.
His restraint was rewarded. Drako's gun sailed onto the desk
in front of Karen, striking the tape deck with a dissonant
clang.
Kermit exchanged an astounded glance with Karen, Drako's
movements still visible in the periphery of his vision. The
younger man reached inside his jacket, and Kermit brought up
the Desert Eagle, certain he was reaching for another
weapon. "Easy. Keep your hands where we can see them. Use
two fingers to bring it out slowly."
Drako paled, his countenance turning ashen. "I hardly think
two fingers is safe. Glass breaks easily, you know."
Karen's brow knit in puzzlement; Kermit carefully schooled
his expression to remain bland, aware his own curiosity
likely exceeded hers. "All right, use as many fingers as you
need to."
Gingerly, Drako withdrew a small vial from his pocket. He
set it down on the desk with unerring precision, then backed
away. "One lesson my father taught me was well worth
learning," he admitted, his voice growing more detached with
each word. "Trust your gut. Both my brothers acted on their
instincts and steered clear of Quirk once they were adults.
Especially once Mom died. I scoffed at their suspicions and
bought into every lie Quirk told us. I wanted to believe in
my father's innocence so much I ignored my gut telling me
his old friend had an agenda of his own. I ignored every
hole in his story of how my father really died. And I
ignored my conscience."
As though he'd heard the guffaw Kermit resisted letting out,
he added, "Oh yes, contrary to what you may think, I *do*
have a conscience. I truly regret this fiasco I've
orchestrated. But what I regret most is that I came so close
to finishing what Quirk and my father started." He inclined
his head toward the vial. "What's in that vial could wipe
out a small country under the right conditions. I haven't
provided those to Quirk yet."
Before Kermit could respond, he heard someone moving in the
warehouse's main room. He shook his head in reluctant
amusement. "Cavalry's a little late, isn't it?"
Karen made a show of consulting her watch. "I'd say so."
With that, the office door swung in, revealing Peter and
Blake. Kermit waited long enough for the two men to take in
the tableau before them, then drawled, "Nice of you to join
us."
"Perhaps you'd like to do the honors of the arrest and
evidence gathering, Detectives," Karen added, gesturing to
Peter to cuff Drako. "Treat the vial with all due caution."
Blake shot a startled glance at Kermit, who nodded, then
moved forward to secure the vial.
"We'd have been here sooner if you'd let us in on things,"
Peter tossed over his shoulder.
"Speaking of which ..." Kermit allowed his words to trail
off as he holstered the Desert Eagle, then lowered his
sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, looking over the
frames at Blake. "Where did you hide it?"
"The tape recorder activator or the recorder?"
Grudging respect for Blake's ability to put one over on him
lacing his voice and belying his words, Kermit warned,
"You're a dead man when I find them."
END PART 30