pressed to her head. A finger on the trigger…
I pushed the thoughts away and opened my jacket. I held it wide, to show anyone watching that I wasn’t armed. I let ten seconds crawl by. I lifted up my shirt, to show that my waistband was clear. Five more seconds ticked away. I turned around to show I had nothing tucked in the back of my jeans. Another ten seconds. Then I stepped up to the door, paused, and knocked twice.
I was at the clinic, alone. Unarmed. It was less than an hour since Tanya’s call. If the kidnappers were true to their word, it was time to let her go.
Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. There was absolute silence from inside the building. No one moved. No one came to open the door.
I raised my arms, held them out by my sides for a moment, then slowly knocked two more times. As my knuckles rapped against the wood for the last time I heard something, high above me. A pair of muffled explosions, one right on top of the other. It was the agents blowing the two dormers out of the pretty copper roof. My diversion had been a success. The kidnappers hadn’t complied. Now they’d lost the chance to negotiate. I just hoped Tanya hadn’t lost an awful lot more.
Another four agents streamed out of the office building to my left. One handed me a Glock. The next fixed a shaped charge to the clinic door, checked everyone was clear, and hit the button on his detonator. The door dissolved into a cloud of sawdust and the first agent was through the gap before the final few splinters had landed on the sidewalk.
Two agents dived through the door to the basement. The others stormed through reception and crashed into the consulting room. I could hear a commotion above me, but no gunfire. It would be the two roof teams swarming through the upper floors, working their way down to join us. The plan was to coincide in the hallway, but I wasn’t concerned about that. Tanya had said she was on the first floor. That meant there was only one place I was interested in going. Up the stairs.
My way was blocked by an agent, on his way down. The moment I saw him I knew something was wrong. It was more than annoyance over me ignoring our instructions. I could tell by the tilt of his head. The stoop of his shoulders. The distance he kept away from me. The tired way he removed his goggles before speaking.
“Commander Trevellyan?” he said. “Sorry to tell you this, sir, but we’ve found your friend. At least, I think we have.”
THIRTY-TWO
Every couple of years the navy brings in a new initiative. The last one was a health screening program. A series of examinations was to be held at the same time as the regular psych evaluations, presumably to keep the costs down. It was billed as a benefit, but that didn’t fool anyone. Its real purpose was obvious. To minimize sick leave. It was as if we were the machines, and the bosses wanted as little downtime on the production line as possible.
The scheme was optional. I’d estimate about half a percent of people took up the offer. Even that figure might be too high. Worrying about whether you may or may not get sick at some point in the future is not a typical mind-set in my line of work.
I didn’t go, myself. The way I saw it was that if something bad was waiting around the corner, I’d rather not know. And that didn’t just apply to health matters.
My view had made sense, back then.
I wasn’t so sure, anymore.
I passed four more agents on the stairs, on my way up to the first floor. All of them were carrying equipment-guns; an aluminum stepladder; a folding metal arm with a kind of claw on the end, like a larger version of the things park keepers use to pick up rubbish; a video camera on an extending pole. But none of them would look me in the eye. And I noticed something else. They were all breathing through their mouths.
The closer I got to the top of the stairs, the more I understood why. The hallway had stunk of disinfectant, like most hospitals do. The odor had lingered as I began to climb. But once I’d reached the midpoint it gave way to something else. A harsh metallic tang that coated the roof of my mouth and clung to the inside of my nostrils. It was unmistakable. The heavy, cloying stench of blood. An unhealthy smell. The kind that humans are programmed to avoid.
The final three agents were gathered outside the entrance to the OR. I walked toward them, and the stink grew worse with every step I took. They watched grimly as I drew closer and finally all three backed away, leaving me with a clear view through the door.
The body had been left neatly on the operating table. Its head was missing, but taking that into account, I figured the person would have been around five feet eight. Tanya’s height. The hands were also missing, but I could see one severed wrist peeping out from under the blood-soaked theater greens. It was slender and delicate and hairless, like a young woman’s. So were the feet. They were still present. And both big toes were bent slightly inward, as if she’d been used to wearing pointed shoes or boots.
Something had been left on her chest. A stainless-steel kidney dish. A small object was propped up inside. It looked like a computer memory stick, but I couldn’t get close enough to check. Not without wading through an unbelievable amount of blood. I’d never seen so much in one place before. I didn’t know a person contained so much. The stout pedestal holding up the operating table had literally become an island at the center of a sticky, red lake. It was almost perfectly circular, and had already flowed around two trolleys of electrical equipment and a yellow surgical-waste bin. No way was any part of me going to be next.
A sudden agitated rustling sound behind me broke my concentration. I looked around and saw four people in white paper suits emerging from the staircase. They had clear plastic bonnets on their heads, like hotel shower caps, and similar covers stretched over their shoes. Their faces were hidden behind thick breathing masks, and each one was carrying an aluminum tool case like an artist or a fisherman.
“My name’s Maher,” the first of them said. “Dr. Melvyn Maher. Now. You, in the leather coat. Step back. This is my crime scene. Go and wait at the MCC with the others.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t feel like cricket.”
“What? Are you part of this investigation?”
“No. I just came to laugh at the clowns.”
“Who are you?”
“Nice outfit, by the way. It could do with some color, though. Red might suit you.”
“Are you threatening me? I’ll have you removed.”
“You can try. But the remains of my friend are lying in that room. And until I know who’s responsible, I won’t be leaving.”
Varley’s patience with the forensics crew lasted just less than an hour. Then he summoned Dr. Maher to the command center. I followed him to the control room. Weston and Lavine were already there.
“I know you’ve just got on this, Doc,” Varley said. “But something’s way out of whack, here. That’s obvious. So I need an early heads-up. What can you give me?”
“Nothing,” Maher said. “It’s too soon. We’re still processing. I wouldn’t want to draw any conclusions at this stage. You’ll have to wait.”
“Nobody’s going to wait, Doc. Talk to me now.”
“Don’t pressure me. You’re being unreasonable.”
“Kidnappers and murderers can have that effect. Now give me what you’ve got. Qualify it later if you need to.”
“And if you run off down any blind alleys as a result?”
“Forget ass covering, Doc. That’s not what this is about. The buck stops with me.”
Maher looked down at the table and silently chewed his upper lip.
“I think this is unwise,” he said, after a moment. “I want you to know that. But if you insist, there are a few things we can be reasonably certain of. Three so far, I believe.”
“Sometime today, Doc?” Varley said.
“OK, then. Don’t rush me. First thing. Let’s start with the victim. I understood you were aiming to rescue a
