59
Prince George’s County, Maryland
USA
YOU TWO LOOK AWFUL!” Maggie Templeton said, actually standing up from behind her monitors to give them an apprehensive once-over.
“The aftermath of being smuggled across North Korea,” Randi said. “On foot, in boats, hidden in oil drums, on flatbeds…”
“And don’t forget under half a ton of rice on that horse-drawn cart,” Smith added.
“How could I? I still have grains stuck in places I’m not sure they’re ever going to come out of.”
It had taken the better part of two weeks, but they’d finally made it over the Chinese border, where Randi’s language skills and Covert-One’s contacts were a hell of a lot more useful.
Fred Klein appeared in his doorway and motioned them inside, taking the unusual added step of closing the door behind them.
“Sit,” he said, apparently deciding to dispense with any niceties about being happy they weren’t dead.
“We got into the facility before they destroyed it,” Randi told him, ignoring the invitation. “The scale of the human testing is worse—”
“Sit!” Klein repeated and she fell into a defiant silence, but not a chair.
Smith, on the other hand, did as he was told. Randi hadn’t worked with Klein long enough to know how out of character his tone was and to be concerned by it.
“Your investigation has ended.”
“What?” Randi said.
“Was I unclear?”
Smith shifted uncomfortably. After what he’d seen, even he would have a hard time taking that order at face value. The chances of Randi just nodding submissively were hovering around zero. When you signed on with her, you got the skills but you didn’t get the obedient soldier.
“Yes,” she said. “You were unclear.”
Based on Klein’s expression, he’d anticipated the pushback. Whether he was starting to regret bringing Randi into the fold was less obvious.
“Whitfield identified me at your cabin and went to the president. The three of us had a meeting and decided to…” He paused for a moment, considering his phrasing. “De-escalate the situation.”
“A meeting?” Randi said, the volume of her voice rising. “You had a meeting? Do you have any idea what we found in Korea? What they were doing to those people?”
“This isn’t my call to make, Randi. But the consensus is that America needs the technology and the only people looking for skeletons in Dresner’s closet are you and Jon.”
“So we’re supposed to just walk away from people who’ve been murdered, tortured, and experimented on because Jon and his soldier buddies need a new toy to play with?”
Smith passively examined an antique globe by the back wall while she stalked out and slammed the door. A string of muffled expletives was audible for a few moments as she headed for the exit—undoubtedly to drive off in the car they’d come in. Stranded again.
Klein finally took a seat behind his desk, and the two men stared at each other. Smith was the first to break the silence.
“There was something called Division D at that facility, Fred. All we know about it is that a lot of the test subjects there died. Even Eichmann—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Jon.”
Smith ignored him. “My concern is that this was something separate from the normal development research. Something that could bite us in the ass.”
“The investigation is over,” Klein repeated.
“Because Castilla is worried about his legacy?”
“Don’t try to channel Randi’s outrage. You know better.”
Smith let out a long breath and tried to figure out a way to get through. “Our military is getting reliant on the Merge faster than even I expected. Actually, ‘reliant’ isn’t even the right word. Addicted. How can I get comfortable continuing to integrate a technology that I don’t fully understand? A hell of a lot of blood and treasure was expended in Division D, Fred. And even Dresner’s closest friend and collaborator didn’t know why.”
Klein didn’t react.
“Authorize me to continue to quietly pursue this, Fred. I’ll convince Randi to walk away. This will just be between you, me, and the president. Then we can make a decision with a full set of facts.”
Klein didn’t seem sure how much to say. “You’re not bringing up any points that I didn’t already discuss with the president, Jon. This is over. We’re shut down.”
“What about Whitfield? What does he know?”
Klein stood in a way that was clearly a dismissal. “I’m going to say this one more time. We’re not asking those kinds of questions anymore. We’re not even authorized to speak about it among ourselves. Any data—anything you’ve written down or recorded—is to be destroyed. By the end of the day, I want there to be no record that any of this ever happened.”
“Fred, we—”
“I’m not sure you understand how difficult it was to get you out of North Korea and how involved with that operation the president was,” Klein said, cutting him off. “We’ve compromised some of our best eyes in that country and now have to get them and their families out. Castilla could have left you there to rot, Jon. Are you going to make him regret his decision?”
Smith didn’t answer.
“I want to hear you say it, Colonel. I want to hear you say that you’re clear on your orders.”
“I’m clear. But what about Randi?”
“I’m making her your responsibility. My hands are tied here, Jon. If you can’t handle her, I’ll be forced to.”
Smith didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he was certain he didn’t want to find out.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Klein nodded solemnly. “See that you do.”