She was exhausted and tired of arguing with the man. It had been a battle tracking down Ross and the other guardsmen, then getting both Creed and Logan down off the mountain and back to safety. Dr. Avelyn had assured her that Creed would be fine but that he desperately needed to rest. Logan, despite having been knocked down and knocked out, appeared to be back to his normal, arrogant self.
“Ross’s team thinks they found part of the facility. It’s buried farther up from where we were digging. They think they have a secure opening to get down into it.”
“Are there more victims trapped inside?”
He shook his head and she saw an exasperated look that he held back behind a smile.
“Now I understand that it was never about that,” he said, watching her, and she knew he was still trying to decide whether or not he should trust her.
At first introduction she had thought he was a bureaucrat, a political bully accustomed to everyone following his orders and giving in to his demands. In the last several hours she had caught glimpses of a man unsure of himself, on the verge of desperation.
She’d seen it before in the eyes of men who realized they’d been used or betrayed. What they did about it could often be the dangerous part. And she wondered what Peter Logan was capable of doing to survive if he had actually been hung out to dry by those powers above him.
They were sitting in the front seat of his Land Rover—the only place he insisted was safe from being overheard. Every once in a while he cranked the engine and blasted hot air. O’Dell had showered and changed into clean, dry clothes but she wasn’t sure she’d ever remove the chill from her body. It was as if the ice-cold floodwaters had gotten inside her veins.
“Ben told me that USAMRIID and DARPA were working together on something,” O’Dell said. “Is that what this is about?”
He seemed surprised and almost relieved.
“But he didn’t tell you what it was?”
“No. He said it was classified.”
“And you were still willing to come down here?”
“I work for the FBI, Logan. The murder of these men is a federal investigation. I know how to work around classified issues. I don’t, however, like having things kept from me, especially when they almost get me killed.” She let that sink in, then added, “At some point my help to you is worthless unless I know more details.”
“Fair enough. I hear you.” And still he hesitated. “At first I was told that we needed to find any survivors and recover whatever bodies there were. It wasn’t until this afternoon that I realized that wasn’t the only mission.”
“Bodies that had been murdered,” she reminded him.
The first man, supposedly a scientist, had been shot in the head. O’Dell had never seen his body. The other man had been shot in the back. Logan still hadn’t given her an explanation for who the victims were. Maybe he was getting ready to tell her whom he suspected had murdered them.
“And a woman’s severed hand,” she added.
“Dr. Clare Shaw.” He nodded. “She was the director of the facility. Dr. Richard Carrington was the man they found first. I have no idea who the other man is or the one that’s still buried out there. We believe someone murdered them all right before the landslide.”
“And you honestly have no idea who it was?”
“No. But I think I know what the killer may have been after.”
O’Dell stayed quiet and waited.
“Many of our facilities are researching new drugs and vaccines, new procedures to help our military. Back when I was a platoon leader I had my guys testing stuff like go pills and blast briefs.”
“Pills and briefs?” She wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with anything.
“We called them ‘go pills.’”
He’d misunderstood her reaction. She wasn’t asking what they were. She tried to be patient.
“I’m not sure what they had in them. They’d keep us awake on long missions. No hangovers or aftereffects. Blast briefs are underwear with Kevlar. My point is, there’s always something that’s being developed and studied. I was always willing to try stuff out. It was for our safety, right?”
“The man lying in the temporary morgue certainly didn’t look like anyone had his safety in mind when they experimented on him.”
“Experimented? What are you talking about? I thought you said he was shot in the back?”
“That’s probably what killed him, but his entire body looks like one big red bruise, like he was exposed to something.” She watched his face. “Wait a minute, you didn’t know that?”
“Ross’s men said they delivered a mud-covered body.”
“But you knew enough about the hand to believe it’s Dr. Shaw’s?”
“That’s a no-brainer. They told me they had seen red nail polish. And there was the ring.” He waved his hand in front of himself like none of that was important and she was derailing his train of thought.
“But you see, the bodies are incidentals.”
“You’re not concerned that one of your facilities might have been using people as human guinea pigs?”