“Resources?”
“The whole damn FBI.” Anyone else would be scared shitless, but she smiles as if she’s not the prime suspect in my case. Does she not know she’s helping me plot her demise?
“Right. Now, let’s list the steps needed to accomplish your goal.”
Stepping closer, I cross my arms and stare down at her phone. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Ah… no. I don’t think so.” If I wasn’t so sure of her guilt, those brown eyes might convince me she’s innocent.
“What about the risks?” As I recall my online management course a few years ago, her face heats.
“You’re the FBI agent. I think you need to fill in this blank.” A bead of sweat appears on her forehead, and she wipes it away.
Inhaling the scent of her fear, I press on. “People could get hurt and even die, including your kid.”
Face pale, she types the word ‘death' into her phone, then glances up at me. “Any other risks you want to add?”
“You tell me. What will happen if our enemies master EMF technology?”
“Hypothetically speaking, a global satellite could disable all the earth’s 5G. Conversely, our team is working on a much smaller scale. We’re creating the perfect, undetectable assassination weapon.”
“For the love of God, why?” Images of world leaders dying by the dozens make my stomach lurch.
“The same reason we study anthrax. We need an antidote.” She states it so matter-of-factly that I cringe and move on.
“Let’s discuss our action steps. First, I’ll need to talk to your friend, Henry. With his help, I should be able to find the guy who attacked him.”
She stops typing, skews up her face, and waits for me to lock onto her gaze before asking, “Why aren’t you using facial recognition?”
“The shooter avoided looking at the cameras in the area.”
While I explain, she jumps from her chair. “You don’t have to wait for Henry. I saw him.”
My mouth drops. Is she purposefully slowing down my investigation? “And you waited to tell me, why?”
“Because, Mister Special Agent Wulf, you never told me you didn’t capture his image. Give me a pencil, and I’ll sketch him for you.”
I hold up a felt-tipped pen. “How about this?”
“I guess it’ll do.” Frowning, she snatches the utensil from my hand and snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Paper, paper.”
Tearing open a utility bill, I hand her an almost blank page. “Can you talk and draw at the same time?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.” As she bites her lower lip, an incredibly life-like drawing emerges.
“I was wondering if you could log into Henry’s work computer for me?”
“Probably, but you’ll need to drive me back to the lab. Why?”
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Shit. The eyes are off.” She crumples up the artwork. “If you stop for art supplies on the way to the hospital, I’m sure I can do better.”
Chapter 13
It’s better to be a wolf for a day than a sheep all your life.
Gwen
