“I know you and she have…history, but I trust her discretion and thoroughness. I’ve already talked with the chairwoman and requested Ms. Brighton’s presence at The Complex. She should be here late tonight.”
“I will try to have as much information as is possible ready for her when she arrives.”
“See that you do.”
Deborah turned and looked at her computer monitor, a clear sign Dr. Hennigan was summarily dismissed. Without saying another word, she spun on her heels and walked toward the office’s door. She heard the beeping sound as she approached, opened the door and let herself out.
With the door firmly shut behind her, she took a second to lean against it. “Well, it could have gone worse,” she said to the empty hall. She took a couple of deep, comforting breaths, like she’d learned to do in the meditation class she’d taken in college. When she pulled herself together, she pointed her feet toward her lab.
She walked with a clear purpose, and everyone she met along the way gave her a wide berth.Apparently, I’m radiating ‘don’t fuck with this bitch today’. She rounded the corner into the hallway where her lab was located and quickly got inside. Her lab was one of the few places where she knew her mother didn’t have cameras. They had long agreed that her lab was her refuge, and no one was to have any kind of surveillance there. She also had one of her underlings sweep the room daily for audio or video transmitters.
“How did it go?” Ms. Wilson asked as Dr. Hennigan strode into the room.
“Better than it could have. We’re both still standing, so that’s good.”
“But?” Ms. Wilson asked with a questioning look on her face.
“Mother has asked Ms. Brighton to fly out to The Complex today to conduct the post-action audit.”
“Indeed.” Ms. Wilson responded as her expression hardened, and she put the palms of her hands on the table in front of her.
Ms. Wilson would look perfectly calm to an outsider—almost quizzical, if anything. Dr. Hennigan knew the look for what it was. Ms. Wilson was seething with rage.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Hennigan started. “We did everything by the letter. We have nothing to worry about from an audit.”
“Still…” Ms. Wilson let the word hang in the air.
“I know. We both have history with Ms. Brighton, but she is a consummate professional. She won’t let our history interfere with a fair audit.”
“And if she does?”
“If she does,” Dr. Hennigan started, “we have ways of making people disappear. Don’t we?”
“That we do,” Ms. Wilson said as her eyes crinkled and the corners of her mouth tilted upward ever so slightly.
From rage to joy in under a minute. I’ll need to watch her to ensure she doesn’t use this opportunity to take care of Ms. Brighton permanently.
Chapter Ten
Agent Murphy
Special Agent Sarah Murphy entered the Peregrine VIP holding area and took in the scene in front of her. She could tell some were in shock, and a couple had tight fuses that could explode easily and quickly if she didn’t handle this delicately.
Murphy had joined the FBI after law school. She was a second-generation FBI agent, taking after her mother. Her father had been a professor at Tulane, which was one of the primary reasons she’d requested to be stationed at the field office in New Orleans. After her mother died from cancer, she wanted to be closer to her father. At thirty-five, she’d been on the job for almost ten years.
After the explosion, Murphy and her partner were dispatched to the airport to help coordinate efforts with Homeland Security, National Intelligence, the NOPD, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives—ATF—the FAA and several other lettered agencies within the federal, state and local governments. Forensic specialists from the CIA, ATF, FAA and FBI were already en route to examine the debris field. Of course, half of the debris field was over swamplands, so the investigators had their work cut out for them.
“Who’s Dan Rawlins?” Agent Murphy asked after taking in the room.
“I am,” a man with silver hair and an expensive suit said. “And you are?”
“I’m Special Agent Sarah Murphy, FBI.” She pulled out her badge and showed it to the gentleman.
After appearing to vet her credentials,like this yahoo could tell a real FBI shield from a fake one, she said, “I hear you missed your flight.”
“What are you insinuating?” The man’s eyes narrowed as a vein popped out on his neck.
“Nothing,” she said, trying to defuse the situation. “Trying to figure out the facts on the ground.”
