The Controller Read online

  Rose was perturbed but not surprised to see Miller and his side-kick, Roberts, exit the first car on scene. Miller stayed by the car as Roberts walked towards them, her face so full of rage it was laughable. She stopped two feet from Rose, her mouth tight-lipped, a gnarled vein snaking across the left side of her forehead bulging against her skin. ‘Words fail me,’ said the woman, her lips barely parting.

  If only, thought Rose. ‘Collins was working for the Railroad under duress,’ said Rose, knowing how insufficient her words sounded.

  ‘Death by cop,’ added McBride.

  ‘Death by fucking cop? Why was he not disarmed first?’

  Rose leant towards Roberts, not willing to be pushed any further. ‘With all due respect, Ma’am, he was an FBI agent on sick leave. We had no reason to ask for his firearm.’

  ‘Surely subsequent evidence suggests otherwise,’ said Roberts, with a little less authority.

  ‘Yes, well hindsight is a wonderful thing. Maybe if Agent Balfour had not been assigned to the Railroad investigation we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place,’ said Rose, noticing a slight twinge in Roberts’ right eye as she took a step backwards.

  ‘That’s neither here nor there,’ said Roberts. ‘What were the specifics of Collins’ involvement with the Railroad?’

  ‘He claimed he was being blackmailed. They threatened to take his ex-wife and child if he didn’t comply.’

  In the sunlight, Roberts looked her years. The light was no friend, highlighting the deep creases in her face and the bags beneath her eyes. ‘I need you two to return to head office and leave this to someone else. You will need to do an immediate debrief and then I want your focus on finding those responsible for the compound. Check Collins’ bank account. I’m sure there would have been some financial inducement. There always is. And where are we on the location of Mr Lynch?’

  ‘Still no sign,’ said Rose.

  ‘Find him,’ said Roberts. She was about to head back to the car when they recounted Collins’ revelation about Balfour, Roberts’ face turning a shade of white. ‘Get back to the office,’ she said, turning away without another word.

  Rose watched her return to the car and briefly exchange words with Miller. Of the two Miller seemed the most approachable, though this was possibly due to their good cop, bad cop, routine. ‘Guess we better get back,’ said Rose.

  McBride nodded, and without a word placed his sunglasses on like some lone maverick.

  ‘Dick,’ said Rose, smiling.

  The debrief was arduous, Rose enduring questions she saw coming from miles away. Eventually, they were released, the OPR, the FBI’s internal investigation, satisfied with their answers to Collin’s death and his revelations about Balfour.

  Still, Rose was surprised by the speed they were allowed back on the case. She presumed the importance of the events at the compound meant she and McBride were allowed back on the case sooner than usual.

  However, McBride was less impressed. ‘Whole day wasted,’ he said, as they sat in the canteen rehydrating with glasses of iced water and fruit juices.

  ‘You feel they were just going through the motions?’ said Rose, recounting the robotic line of questioning.

  ‘To tell you the truth, Rose, I’m finding it hard to trust anyone at the moment. I keep internally questioning everyone. From Miller downwards.’

  Rose understood the paranoia. In many ways she was more suspicious. After Dylan’s betrayal and today’s events she felt unable to trust anyone, even the colleague sitting in front of her. ‘So what’s your story, McBride?’

  ‘My story?’

  ‘Why are you so damn quiet for one?’

  ‘I’d like to think of myself as being thoughtful,’ said McBride, deadpan.

  ‘You’re a thinker, hey?’

  ‘Deep,’ said McBride, the slightest of curves forming on his lips.

  The atmosphere of distrust had given Rose an idea. ‘You remember when we asked Collins if he would show us his chest?’

  ‘Remember? I don’t think I’ll forget his swinging dong.’

  Rose couldn’t help but laugh, the gallows humor was a coping mechanism she was more than used to. ‘How would you react if I’d asked you to take your top off?’

  ‘You want to see me naked, Agent?’

  ‘You wish. Seriously though, would you be bothered?’

  McBride considered. ‘Perhaps not, but then I’m not in cahoots with anyone.’

  ‘So if we asked people here to prove they were not with the Railroad, you think we’d have a problem.’

  McBride took a long drink of apple juice. ‘You want to see everyone here naked?’

  ‘Only as a means to aid our investigation.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  A stack of boxes was waiting for them in the incident room. Agent Callahan was hanging two giant posters on the office walls. On closer inspection they were maps of railway lines. One nationwide, one for the state of Texas. Each map was decorated by hundreds of different colored pins.

  ‘Meticulously recovered from the home of Samuel Lynch,’ said Callahan. ‘The files are from his place as well.’

  ‘Thanks, Sean,’ said McBride.

  Callahan nodded and left the office.

  Rose moved towards the maps. ‘Missing people?’ she said, gazing at the pins.

  ‘Christ, he was obsessed,’ said McBride.

  They spent the next few hours alternating between research on Lynch and on Balfour.

  Balfour was an only child and his parents had died within six months of each other when he’d been serving in the Marines. Rose contacted a couple of his former colleagues from Dallas but none of the agents were talkative over the phone. His former superior, ASAC Rostron had only positive things to say about him and all but one of his current team had been eliminated at the compound.

  Rose thought further about the tattoos she’d seen on Razinski. Collins had been clean, but it didn’t mean Balfour or others in the department were. She broached the subject with McBride again who looked less than impressed.

  Rose checked her watch. Four pm. ‘You think Miller and Roberts are in?’

  ‘I guess so. You really sure you want to do this?’

  Rose puffed out her cheeks. ‘No. But you better come too.’

  Rose couldn’t remember seeing the building more alive. All leave had been cancelled as the investigations into the compound attack continued. So far, the attack and the secret of the compound itself had been contained from the press but opinion pieces regarding the explosion appeared daily. Everything from a terrorist attack to an alien invasion had been suggested and it was possible Miller’s hand would be forced at some point to reveal the truth.

  Rose noticed a stiffening of backs, and an intensity of work, as they walked past the packed office of agents sitting at their desktops.

  ‘They fear you,’ said McBride, as if reading her thoughts.

  ‘Fear me?’

  ‘You’re head of the investigation. You’re in with Roberts and Miller. You were at the compound and survived. Fear, respect, hate. All goes hand in hand.’

  ‘You could have missed out the hate bit,’ said Rose, as they reached the exterior of Miller’s office. ‘Special Agent Sandra Rose to see Agent In Command, Miller,’ said Rose, to Miller’s PA

  ‘You don’t have an appointment,’ said the PA, without looking at her diary.

  ‘Correct,’ said McBride. ‘Please tell him Agent McBride is here as well.’

  The PA glared at McBride as if he’d cursed in front of her. Rose watched fascinated as McBride held the woman’s gaze for what felt like over a minute before she finally relented and got to her feet. She returned a minute later and told them to go through.

  Miller ignored them as they entered, his attention focused on the oversized screen in front of him. He left them standing for a few minutes before taking off his glasses and glancing up at them. ‘Rose, McBride. I didn’t know we had a debrief booked in,’ he said.

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nbsp; ‘Sorry, sir, this couldn’t wait.’

  Miller nodded to himself. ‘You better take a seat, then. Nasty business with Agent Collins. Exemplary record.’

  Not anymore, thought Rose. ‘He was placed in a very difficult situation, sir. In part, that’s why I wanted to speak to you.’ Rose watched Miller’s reaction closely. She was searching for any inkling of signaling between Miller and McBride, but the SAC kept his eyes focused on her throughout.

  ‘What are you asking me, Rose?’

  ‘Sir. When we were questioning Collins, we, I, asked to see his torso. I wanted to see if he had any of the Railroad tattoos we’d seen on Razinski.’

  Miller frowned. ‘And did he?’

  ‘No, but he didn’t like being questioned about it.’

  Miller pushed his lower lip out. ‘Can’t blame him for that. A form of accusation I suppose.’

  Rose thought back to Collins’ outrage, his disrobing, and the gun dangling from his side. ‘It was a question that had to be asked. The thing is, sir, I think we need to ask a few more people the same question.’

  Miller linked his hands together and swayed back on his chair. ‘I see. Who exactly do you want to check, Agent Rose?’

  Rose glanced sideways at McBride. ‘Everyone.’

  22

  ‘Everyone?’ said Miller, laughing.

  Rose remained stone-faced. ‘It’s the only way.’

  Miller leant towards her, his hands now clasped together in front of him. ‘You want to conduct some sort of strip search for the whole of this building? You want to ask seasoned service men and women to prove they are not part of some - and this is at least one of the major sticking points, Rose - form of as yet unacknowledged organization.’

  ‘An organization that is responsible for the deaths of at least forty-two of our agents, sir,’ said McBride, to Rose’s relief.

  Miller turned to McBride, his gaze venomous as if McBride had somehow betrayed him. ‘You can’t be serious. It would never wash. Anyway, do you think anyone under cover would be stupid enough to leave distinguishing marks on their body?’

  Rose had thought about this. ‘It’s a ritual, sir. It’s a badge of honor. My best guess is they wait until they are enshrined within the organization before taking on their marks.’

  ‘What about medicals? We have procedures to avoid this sort of thing.’

  ‘Not really, sir. I worked out that if I had such a tattoo on my back then the last time someone checked would have been ten years ago, and that wouldn’t be in an official capacity.’

  ‘When would you want to do it?’

  ‘Now, sir.’

  Miller tilted his head and stared at Rose, wide eyed.

  ‘That’s why I came to you now, sir. You need to order a lock down,’ said Rose, regretting her choice of words.

  ‘Need?’ said Miller, his face reddening.

  ‘Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean anything…’

  Miller raised his hand. ‘Enough. How to you plan to run this?’

  ‘Sir, I hope I’m not speaking out of line…’

  ‘The time has long passed for that, Agent,’ said Miller.

  Rose noticed a hint of a smile from McBride next to her. ‘Ok. We need to recall Special Agent Roberts. Then the four of us need to…’

  ‘Strip naked?’ said Miller, wide eyed.

  ‘Yes. Roberts and I can deal with the women, and McBride and yourself with the men. I would suggest everything is recorded, sir.’

  ‘Not content with humiliating your colleagues, you want them captured on video too?’

  Rose started to speak but Miller raised his hand again. Rose had a sudden urge to reach over and snap the patronizing appendage at the wrist but stood her ground.

  ‘This is a logistical nightmare,’ said Miller, summoning his PA. ‘Lynda, get me the head of security now.’

  An hour later the FBI field office in San Antonio was in lockdown. Roberts had returned and was prowling Miller’s office. She’d failed to make eye contact with Rose since receiving the news about the checks.

  ‘It starts with us, I guess,’ said Miller.

  Along with Roberts and Miller, McBride and Jenkins, the head of security, accompanied Rose. Miller began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Jenkins, you’ve permission to withdraw your firearm,’ he said, sighing.

  Miller was clear and McBride went next. ‘My turn,’ said Rose, unbuttoning her blouse.

  ‘You’re okay doing this here?’ said Miller.

  ‘Of course I am, sir,’ said Rose, noticing Roberts frowning. Miller and McBride turned their backs as she undressed, Jenkins looking pained as he checked her for marks.

  ‘You’re really going to make me go through this,’ said Roberts, once Rose was given the all clear.

  ‘Just get it done, Janice,’ said Miller.

  Roberts undressed, her eyes focused on Rose who lowered her gaze. She was cleared and McBride withdrew his gun as they checked Jenkins.

  ‘That was fun,’ said Miller. ‘Okay, McBride and I will lead the male checks. Janice, you work with Rose. Jenkins, we will need to go through the security team first as we will need your team to supervise. I want no second guesses. Everyone is guilty until proven otherwise.’

  The checks went quicker than Rose had anticipated but not everyone accepted the situation with grace. Humor was in short supply and by midnight, when the last of the agents and support staff had been checked, it was extinguished.

  ‘What a gigantic waste of time,’ said Roberts. It was past midnight and they were back in Miller’s office.

  Rose didn’t consider it a waste of time but wasn’t about to contradict her. They’d all but eliminated everyone in the building from being connected to the Railroad. It wasn’t conclusive but it made her feel a lot easier about her work colleagues.

  ‘What next?’ said Miller.

  ‘I want to speak to Balfour’s former colleagues back in Dallas,’ said Rose.

  ‘You going to strip search them too?’ asked Roberts.

  Rose stared at the woman who returned her gaze, her fury evident. Roberts was used to getting her own way and she resented Rose’s involvement in the case. Everything about the woman was contained. Her lips were squeezed tight together, wrinkles blossoming on her face. ‘If what Collins says is true about Balfour then it’s possible he has recruited other members from within.’

  It was Miller’s turn to get agitated. ‘You think you’re going to march into another FBI department and start questioning officers? You need to start getting real, Agent Rose. I can just about accept today’s little adventure but you’re getting ahead of yourself. Our focus now is finding Samuel Lynch and Balfour. Lynch is the catalyst in this whole thing. No one had even heard of the Railroad until his little obsession. Chances are he will know where Balfour is.’

  Rose turned to McBride, outraged but unsurprised by the Miller’s comments. Lynch’s investigation had been a genuine one. If he’d been listened to earlier then everything could have been avoided, and the suggestion that Lynch knew Balfour’s location was insulting. She was about to voice her objection when McBride made a slight shake of his head.

  ‘That is all,’ said Miller.

  Rose left with McBride, heat surging through her body.

  ‘They need a scapegoat,’ said McBride, once they were in the bowels of the building where their cars were parked.

  ‘You think they’re going to blame Lynch for what happened at the compound? I was with him, McBride. This is bullshit.’

  ‘Then we need to find him. Get some rest, Rose. We can reconvene tomorrow. Put today behind us and start again.’

  Rose watched McBride drive off, wondering again if the agent could be trusted. She opened the car and retrieved the burner phone from the glove compartment. ‘Right, Lynch, where the hell are you?’ she said, calling the number from memory. She tried three times, but there was no answer.

  23

  The ringing in Lynch’s ears was incessant and piercing, and was accompanied by a di
stant chiming noise. It felt like he was suffering the mother of all hangovers. He was back at his apartment viewing the three gigantic agents through his web cam. But how did he know one of them was called Lennox?

  A scratching noise roused him. He blinked his eyes open into darkness. Something was trying to eat his hand. He reached down and swatted the vermin away. ‘Fuck sake,’ he said, patting himself down as the creature ran into the shadows. Somehow he was alive and unbound.

  Whatever Balfour injected him with was still in his system. He felt nauseous getting to his feet, struggling with his balance in the darkness, the poison polluting his bloodstream. He stumbled towards a crack of light in the distance. He took small steps, fearing he would trip over one of the men Balfour had slaughtered and would not be able to get back up. The air was thick with the smell of cleaning products and he feared he was trapped. He upped his pace towards the light, his steps reckless, and tripped, stumbling head first into a wooden barrier.

  The impact knocked him backwards and he fell to the ground clasping his head. He waited until the pain subsided. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he saw more cracks of light through the wooden panels. Getting to his feet again, a terrible heaviness in his limbs, he reached for the handle. Fearing this was all an elaborate joke, he turned the handle shocked by the glare of sunlight. He fell through the opening, a warm breeze caressing his skin, and vomited onto the stones of the driveway.

  Darting pains shook through his head as if someone was hammering nails into his skull. He wanted to curl into a ball, let the poison finish its work one way or the other, but the sunlight was too much of a shock to his senses. He pushed himself up and realizing the van was still in the driveway made his way across to it.

  He was in too much pain to be surprised by the sight of his keys in the ignition. He opened the back door and searched for liquids settling on the four pack of beer he’d purchased another lifetime ago. He clicked one of the cans open and downed the hot liquid in two gulps, seconds later throwing it up. Sweat covered him as he opened the second can, this time taking small sips. The beer was warm and tasteless but at that second it was the greatest thing ever. He sat in the back of the van and allowed the liquid to settle.