Daniel Suarez - Kill Decision

“Ms.”-he looked at the folder-“McKinney, I’m Special Agent Tierney, this is Special Agent Harrison.”

She nodded to them. “Gentlemen.”

“How is it you’re here?”

“In my written statement I-”

“The State Department lists you as ‘missing, presumed dead,’ somewhere in Africa. And yet you show up here, claiming to have information about the terror bombings in the U.S.”

“I do have information related to the bombings.”

“Related to the bombings? How’s that different?”

“The bombings aren’t what they appear.”

“You do know that providing false statements to federal officers is a felony?”

“Why on earth would I lie about this?”

“Well, it’s just that among other things, you have a criminal record.”

McKinney was surprised. “I’d hardly call my record criminal.”

“Marijuana possession, disorderly conduct.”

“I can’t believe we’re discussing this. I was arrested with a thousand other people at a demonstration. And marijuana? Hello, I went to college.”

“So you don’t think drug laws apply to you?”

“That’s not-look, can we get to the very critical thing I’m trying to tell you?”

He was reading through the file. “You disappeared under suspicious circumstances with a substantial life insurance policy.” He looked up. “And you have considerable student loan debt.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“You stole and wrecked a U.S. Forest Service truck-”

“It’s not a Forest Service truck, and I had to use it to escape.”

“Because you claim you were kidnapped”-reading again-“‘possibly by a top-secret military operation… or a terrorist cell. One or the other.’” He looked up. “Is that right?”

The other agent just snorted.

“Look, I’m a published entomology professor with Cornell University. You can go to the university’s website, search for me, and you will find a photo of me and everything. I’m not some kook. I’m a world-class expert on ants-myrmecology. I’ve given you my social security number, my-”

“Yeah. We confirmed your identity through fingerprints. That’s not the problem. I’m just confused… how did you get back into the United States?” He flipped through the papers in the folder. “You departed Newark for Johannesburg, en route to Tanzania, two and a half months ago, and customs records show you haven’t returned. American Airlines shows you booked for a return flight later this month.”

“I explain that in my statement.”

“Indulge me. I’d like to make sure your story is consistent. How’d this go down again?”

She sighed in frustration. “I was kidnapped and brought back to the U.S. against my will.”

They both leaned against the wall. “You were kidnapped-in Africa-and brought to Kansas City? Was this before or after the bombing?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“Why would the government ‘kidnap’ you? And if they did, why didn’t they update your passport status? And how did you get hold of a Forest Service truck?”

“It’s not a Forest Service truck. I was kidnapped by some sort of well-funded, secret military operation. They had a motor pool filled with vehicles from false front companies and different government agencies.” She pointed at the Ancile Services polo shirt she still wore. “This shirt, for example. Ancile Services is supposed to be an oil exploration company, but it’s a front for this secret operation.”

Agent Tierney nodded slowly. “I see.”

Harrison let a slight smile escape. “Presumably, they had a pressing ant problem.”

She stared at them. “They claimed my weaver ant software model was being used to power autonomous combat drones.”

“Ah. That’s right. You do mention that the terror bombings are unmanned drone attacks.”

“I have no idea whether that’s true or not, but that’s what they told me. For all I know these people are the ones behind the attacks.”

“You mean the terror bombings? I thought you said these were government people who kidnapped you?”

“Possibly. I don’t know. I never saw any proof that they were government people, and even if they were military, it might still be an illegal military operation. It wouldn’t be the first time the U.S. military was involved in something illegal.”

Tierney glared at her, then started flipping through the folder. “Let’s talk about your antiwar activity…”

“Oh, for godsakes! This has nothing to do with-”

“Let’s just go through it. Who do you think was to blame for 9/11, Professor McKinney? Do you think the U.S. government was behind 9/11?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

“Because they obviously were?”

“No!”

Tierney spread his hands. “Can you give us any details about this supposed top-secret government operation, then? Where are they located?”

“I said I’m not certain it’s a government operation.”

“Okay, fine-this nefarious plot, then. Can you tell us where their secret lair is?”

“Yes, I know where they are.”

“Then why didn’t you put that in your statement? We could already have checked it out.”

McKinney grimaced. “Because it might actually be a government operation. They said they were trying to prevent these drone attacks.” She cast an uncertain look at them. “Do you gentlemen have… I guess… top-secret clearances?”

They groaned and shook their heads. Tierney leaned onto the table in front of her. “Professor. We get the-government’s-out-to-get-me and I’ll-tell-secrets-if-you-let-me-go crap on a daily basis. Look at it from our point of view. In fact, you’re a scientist; look at it from a scientific point of view. Which do you think is more likely: a) that you were kidnapped in Africa by the CIA-”

“I never said it was the CIA.”

“Or whoever, then, and brought here to work on a secret drone project-or b) you got in legal trouble in Africa, possibly narcotics-related, faked your death, and snuck back into the U.S., say, through Mexico, high on drugs, and stole a truck?”

She took a deep breath and tried to control her temper. In truth, she had to admit that Occam’s razor would favor his hypothesis.

“Do you still take drugs, Professor?”

“No! I was a sophomore in college. Give me a drug test if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, we will. You do realize you’re in serious legal trouble?”

“I’m starting to realize that, yes. I’d like to call a lawyer.”

“Well, you waived your right to have an attorney present during questioning.”

“No, I didn’t-when did I do that?”

“When you were brought in, you kept insisting that you immediately speak with an agent, and you didn’t listen to what was being said to you while you were being processed.” He pointed to her signature on one of the documents in the folder.

McKinney realized what a serious turn things had just taken.

Tierney continued, reading from the folder now, “You crashed a stolen federal vehicle, made false statements to federal officers-”

“I’m telling you the truth. I can prove it.”

“So prove it, then.”

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened slightly. Agent Harrison hurried over to it, putting his nose in the open space, conversing with someone. He turned, and the door opened, revealing a couple of men in nicer suits, putting their credentials away.

Harrison motioned for Agent Tierney to follow him. “Matt. C’mon. The SAIC says Homeland Security’s got this.”

Tierney looked back and suddenly straightened up. “Sir. How can we help you?”

“By leaving this room.” The senior FBI agent held the door open for them while the Homeland Security agent stepped inside. He had a kinder face-a fatherly look, with a full head of gray, neatly groomed hair.