Jamie Freveletti - Running Dark

Rapidtest was an investigational new test that Price was developing, able to provide preliminary results in thirty minutes. It was not approved by any racing body as yet, but Emma thought it would give her some quick answers. “Whatever additional testing I need, I can handle at the Price offices.”

Karen looked dubious. “Rapidtest can only test you for performance-enhancing drugs, not for anything life-threatening. You should talk to the police right away.”

Emma nodded. “I know that, but whatever it was, it doesn’t seem life-threatening. It sent me flying down the path and gave me an extremely paranoid reaction, but that seems to be all. Even so, I could be wrong. You’ll be able to narrow it down a bit. At least tell me what it isn’t, if not exactly what it is. Please, test me now. ”

Karen stared at her a moment, then handed her a sterile collection cup. “I’ll have to draw blood as well. It’s going to take me some time, and you shouldn’t hang around here waiting. When you’re done, give this to me and go straight to the police. Write your name and cell number on the label. I’ll call you with the results.”

Emma provided Karen with a sample before heading to the opposite corner of the tent, where the Price athletes kept their gear. She pulled out her cell phone and powered it up. Dialed the number she was told she could dial anytime, day or night.

“This is Banner. Leave a message.” The beep came after.

“Mr. Banner, it’s Emma Caldridge. I’m sorry to have to call you so soon after Colombia, but I need your help. Something strange is happening here.”

She left her cell number, then hung up. As she walked out of the tent toward the van that would take her back to the hotel, she felt her head pound. That pain had remained constant, but a new pain was growing. The pain of knowing that someone was after her.

5

EDWARD BANNER, PRESIDENT AND CEO OF DARKVIEW, SAT ATa desk and faced a raised dais behind which sat three United States senators and seven congressmen. Banner’s attorney sat on his right, taking notes on a legal pad. Banner’s phone lay on the desk in front of him, switched to “silent.” He saw an “unknown” number appear on his telephone screen and noted the 786 area code. He let it go to voice mail.

“Mr. Banner, can you tell this committee why you chose, unilaterally, to disobey direct orders from your superiors at the Department of Defense and assist Mr. Cameron Sumner and Major Miguel Gonzalez in their ill-advised and destructive actions in Colombia?”

The question came from the esteemed Senator George Cooley, a self-proclaimed devout man who prided himself on his conservative views but who kept a wife in a clapboard house in the South and a mistress in a condominium in D.C. The senator was doing the bidding of an oil conglomerate and a major contributor to his campaign. He was searching for a scapegoat in what he called the “shameful Colombian incident” and had decided that Banner would fill the role.

Banner’s part in the rescue of the Colombian hostages had earned him the highest praise from the media and was the subject of endless magazine and newspaper articles. His military background, coupled with his impeccable credentials and exceptional good looks, had made him a minor celebrity and the crush of scores of women. His refusal to capitalize on the media feeding frenzy by declining all requests for interviews, photo shoots, or speaking engagements only served to boost his enigmatic image. Dressed in a dark blue suit, a muted gray silk tie, a crisp white shirt with French cuffs, and discreet silver cuff links, he managed to appear imposing, down-to-earth, and competent all at the same time. In contrast, the senator, a tall man with a thin, pinched face and avaricious eyes, looked like a particularly mean ferret. He knew better than to allow the meetings to be televised.

Banner considered the senator a blowhard, but his righteous claims that he “owed it to the American people to get to the bottom of the incident in Colombia” posed a threat to Darkview, something Banner took quite seriously. Banner also respected the office the man held, even if he didn’t like the man. Therefore he answered in as pleasant a voice as he could muster.

“At no time did I or Darkview ignore the orders of a superior. Darkview was charged with the task of rescuing the passengers of Flight 689. The mission was still authorized when I flew to Colombia. Mr. Sumner and Major Gonzalez were coming to the aid of one of the passengers on the downed airplane, a woman named Emma Caldridge.”

Senator Blowhard waved an impatient hand in the air. “We all know who these men were claiming to save, but at what cost?”

Banner nodded. “Whatever cost is claimed, it was justified. The rescue mission ended up crippling one of the biggest drug cartels in the world. A feat that I would expect this committee to applaud rather than condemn.”

Senator Blowhard leaned forward. “You and your cohorts managed to destroy the largest oil pipeline in South America in the process. This committee has been assigned the job of determining whether the rescue mission could have been undertaken without such an extreme act of destruction.” Blowhard peered at a notepad in front of him. “Now we understand that Mr. Sumner never returned to the United States. Is that correct?”

Banner nodded. His attorney leaned in to him.

“Edward, the court reporter can’t take down nods. You need to reply out loud.”

Banner glanced at the female court reporter tapping on the keys of her device. He smiled at her in apology. She flushed red. He turned back to the senator.

“Mr. Sumner is a member of the Southern Hemisphere Drug Defense Agency. After the mission they deemed it too dangerous for him to return to his duties in Key West until they were sure that the cartel leaders were not seeking retaliation. Darkview agreed to hire him on an ad hoc basis and place him far away from his usual territory.”

“Where is he?” Blowhard said. The committee members all looked up from their notes.

“He’s on a sensitive mission at an offshore location.”

“Which one of you blew up the pipeline?”

Banner’s attorney leaned in to Banner’s microphone. “Mr. Banner, if you know, you can answer. However, I don’t want you to speculate.”

Banner waved the attorney off. “I don’t know the answer to that.” Banner watched Blowhard shuffle some papers.

“You are aware that Ms. Caldridge appeared before this committee one month ago? That she was cooperative and forthcoming?”

Banner nodded again. “Ms. Caldridge is one of the bravest women I know.”

“Then you are aware that she claims to be the one who caused the pipeline to explode? That if this committee finds any wrongdoing, she expects to bear the fault alone?”

“I have complete confidence in Ms. Caldridge. If she destroyed the pipeline, then she had a damned good reason to, and little other choice.”

Blowhard looked irritated. “I have an affidavit here from Cameron Sumner. He also claims to have been solely responsible for the destruction of the pipeline. Now, I ask you, Mr. Banner, why is this man lying?”

Banner’s attorney spoke up. “I object. It’s a complete assumption that Mr. Sumner is lying.”

Everyone ignored the attorney.

Banner shrugged. “Maybe he’s not. Maybe they both did it.”

Senator Blowhard snorted. “That’s not what Ms. Caldridge said. Can you tell me why Mr. Sumner would lie to this committee under oath?”

Banner’s attorney made a small, angry noise. “Don’t answer that. It would be speculation on your part.”

Banner shrugged. “To protect Ms. Caldridge from this committee’s wrath?”