Andrew Peterson - Forced to Kill

“That’s true.”

“Everything points toward this clean coal negotiation in Hungary. It’s a small piece of the world’s energy scene, but any threat to OPEC’s oil production raises red flags. Everything we do depends on oil. Everything. Wars are fought over it.”

“Sounds like a question for your father.”

“I’ve asked him to poke around and see what he can find.”

Holly took his hand. “I have some bad news. I have to leave. Lansing made it clear he doesn’t want me in close proximity to you for a while.”

“Don’t tell me he expects you to return to work.”

“I have to be debriefed first. Then I’ll need to be cleared to resume active duty by my physician and a bureau shrink. I’ll be on leave, officially, but I can’t spend it near you.”

“He’s right. It’s reasonable to assume there’ll be another attempt to kill or capture me. I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I didn’t have to worry about you.”

“It feels like I’m abandoning you.”

“You aren’t.”

“Well, I’m going to put my recovery time to good use. So far, nothing has turned up in Bullfrog Bay, evidence-wise. The dead mercenaries from last night are being processed and printed as we speak by San Diego’s ME. I’m going to glean what we can from them. We’re also printing the severed finger and doing accelerated DNA analysis on it. Same with the other three dead men.”

“Any idea how long all that will take?”

“The prints are being run through the IAFIS and Interpol databases as we speak. Turnaround time can vary. It’s usually no more than twenty-four hours. We’re checking the DNA profiles through CODIS. That’s also about a twenty-four-hour turnaround.”

“CODIS?” he asked.

“It stands for our combined DNA indexing system . There’re millions of profiles in it. Many Interpol member countries are also using the CODIS program. We can reach well beyond our own borders.”

“Sounds high-tech.”

“It is. High-speed computers have really improved turnaround time. But with all such systems, they’re only as good the people operating them. We’ve got a great team in our lab at Quantico.”

“No doubt. When are you leaving for Sacramento?”

“Within the hour. I’m flying up there with Lansing in the Lear. He wants a tour of our renovated field office. There’s a bright side to all of this,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Grangeland. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Speaking of, where is she?”

“I gave her the day off.”

“Smart move, given who’s in town.”

“I’m not comfortable concealing her involvement, but I’m more uncomfortable not having her support you. She’ll get in touch. Or you can call her.”

“Well, I guess this is good-bye for now.”

“Nathan.…”

“I know. I promise, no unnecessary risks.”

“I hate good-byes.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll call if anything turns up on the dead mercs.”

She gave him a kiss and a gentle embrace, then left the room.

Nathan leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Why had Holly become so important to him?

The answer scared him.

For the second time in as many days Nathan awoke feeling disoriented and parched.

Quickly he got his bearings. His La Jolla home. On the floor. In his bedroom. Grant and Sherman at his side.

He reached up to his nightstand and grabbed the bottled water. The clock indicated 1910 hours. He thought about Nichole Dalton’s daughters. Too much time was passing. He needed to get moving. He sat up too quickly and the room spun.

“Easy, partner.”

Harv. He focused on the chair near the closet. “How long?”

“A few hours.”

“You been sitting there the entire time?”

“I’ve been catching up on some reading. You know, you could’ve slept in your bed. No one would hold it against you. You were shot in the head.”

“Don’t remind me. Is that a pistol in your lap?”

“Don’t get excited.”

“Are the SWAT guys still here?”

“Yes. Apparently, they’re not going anywhere. I guess our reputation precedes us. Holly said they had more volunteers than they could handle from the San Diego field office alone once the word got out that the Lone Ranger had been shot. You could’ve ducked, you know?”

Nathan stood, feeling stiff and sore.

“Do you feel nauseous at all?”

“I’m fine.” He squinted in thought.

“What?”

“The dead mercs from last night.”

“What about them?”

“I want to see the bodies.”

“Why?”

“We might be able to confirm they were Montez’s men.”

“You have doubts about that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“What you need is more bed rest. That bullet rang your bell pretty good. You look like shit.”

“Quit mincing words.”

“Okay, you look like hammered shit on a cold lawn.”

“Let’s get serious,” Nathan said.

“I am serious.”

Nathan shook his head. “Three words. Nichole Dalton’s daughters.”

Harv’s grin vanished. “Right. I’ll call the ME.”

“Just like that? And he’ll see us?”

A trace of a smile returned. “As I recall, we installed a heavily discounted security system in his house last year. I think he’ll take my call.”

Dr. David Phelps didn’t like opening his facility after hours, but softened when Harv explained the situation was “life-and-death urgent.” Harv suggested one of Phelps’s other technicians could meet them, but Phelps thought that would be bad form and said he would handle it personally. They agreed to meet at the front entrance of the new facility. Harv told Phelps they’d be in a blue Mercedes sedan.

“I feel bad about dragging Phelps down here at this hour,” Nathan said.

Harv turned left on Overland Avenue from Clairemont Mesa Boulevard “No, you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I feel silly wearing this ball cap. It makes me feel like a redneck.”

Harv said nothing.

“Very funny.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Let’s get this over with. You know how much I love meeting new people.”

“Relax, just be yourself.”

“That’s what scares me.”

They parked and saw Phelps standing near the entrance.

Harv took the lead. “Hi, Doctor, this is Nathan McBride, my business partner.”

“Mr. McBride.”

“Pleasure,” he said, pumping hands. At least the man didn’t stare at his face. “Please call me Nathan. Sorry to drag you down here in the middle of the night.”

“It’s okay, I know how these things go.”

Harvey asked, “How’s the new security system working out for you?”

“Great. It’s super easy to use. I really like the cell phone link. I can scroll through all the cameras right on my BlackBerry. It’s amazing.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“We promise to make this brief,” Harv said.

“May I ask why you’re viewing the bodies?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“I see.”

From Phelps’s tone, Nathan knew he didn’t like being in the dark. “We don’t like being secretive. Sorry.”

“You guys don’t owe me an apology or an explanation. I agreed to this with no strings attached. As far as I’m concerned, your business is your business.”

“Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

The main autopsy room looked and smelled similar to Salt Lake City’s, only bigger and more modern. Stainless-steel tables. Sinks. Glass cabinets. Rolling workstations Desks with computers, and cool air. Nathan again wondered how they did it-worked with dead bodies for a living.