What Lies Beneath—Chapter Three

Q-Bureau

Tuesday, September 3, 2002

9:30 AM

“Ramzan Maskhadov.” Billy handed file folders to both Lee and Amanda. “Convicted of money laundering in 1996 and was serving time in the Alderson Federal Prison Camp before his death this July. He’s believed to have had close ties with the Chechen separatists.”

“What does any of this have to do with Gambit?” Lee asked.

“We believe that Maskhadov made contact with Gambit and slipped him some information,” Billy said. “We’re not sure of the nature of the information but we believe that it probably had something to do with assisting the rebels in launching attacks against Russian and American interests abroad. Gambit was supposed to pass the information on to them as soon as he was released.”

“And instead he decided to sell the information to anyone willing to pay,” Lee said.

Billy nodded. “It fits with Gambit perfectly. And the fact that he was a fellow prisoner explains why he’s been inactive for so long.”

“Do we know who he is?” Amanda asked.

“Not yet.” Billy said. “Our agents never had any face-to-face contact with him before their deaths.”

Lee flipped through the folder. “Have there been any leads?”

“A few,” Billy said. “We’re looking into all the released prisoners who may have had contact with Maskhadov—so far we’ve narrowed it down to thirty persons of interest—that list is in your folder.”

“I’ll run a background check on all these names, sir.” Amanda scanned the list as she spoke. “Hopefully that’ll help us to narrow it down.”

“Good idea,” Billy said. “I also want you to talk to Maskhadov’s widow. It’s a stretch, but she may have some information on Gambit. We’re running against the clock here—the objective is to identify and locate him as quickly as possible. Other governments and organizations would love to get their hands on this information and we can’t afford to let it fall into the wrong hands. Is there a problem, Amanda?”

Amanda’s face was pale as she looked back up at Billy. “No sir,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing wrong—we’ll get to work on that right away.”

“See that you do,” Billy said. “Lord only knows who Gambit might give those plans to unless we can retrieve them first.” He left the office –the Q-Bureau door swinging shut. Lee turned to Amanda.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her. “For a moment there you looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“Well in a way I did.” Amanda handed him the piece of paper. “Look at this.”

Lee scanned the list. “Just tell me what am I supposed to be looking for –Oh my—” his voice faded away.

“That’s just what I thought,” Amanda said.

“Peter Blakeney.” Lee shook his head bemusedly. “When the hell did he get out?”

Amanda didn’t look up from the computer screen. “According to this he was released on the first of August.”

“That must have been what was upsetting Christy,” Lee said. “He does fit the timetable. We’ve got to look into it.”

“You never did like him, Lee.”

“No I never did,” Lee replied. “I always thought he was slick, Amanda—a con man—but that’s a far cry from being a cold-blooded killer like Gambit. Still—we have to look into every possibility.”

“And if he does turn out to be Gambit?” Amanda wondered. “What will we tell Jenna?”

Lee ran his hands back through his hair. “If he does, we’ll deal with that when we come to it. In the meantime we need to keep Jenna as far away from this as possible.”

“He’s Christy’s father,” Amanda said. “Christy is one of Jenna’s closest friends—keeping her away might be a little difficult.”

“I don’t care, Amanda. If Peter Blakeney turns out to be Gambit it could be very dangerous for Jenna—she’s still not completely recovered.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Amanda said. “I just don’t know how we’re going to keep her away.”

“We’ll think of something—we have to.”

Standing up from her desk, Amanda walked over to him. “There are quite a few names on that list, Lee.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Christy’s father is completely innocent.”

Lee ran his hand up and down Amanda’s arm before pulling his wife close. “I certainly hope so,” he said. “Because right now I have a really bad feeling about this.”

Yorktown High School

Tuesday, September 3, 2002

12:35 PM

“This stinks,” Lisa plopped her tray onto the table as she sat down. “Practically the only thing we have together is lunch.”

“Well we knew it was going to be this way,” Jenna sat down beside Lisa, one foot tucked under her leg. “I mean Christy and I are mostly college prep and you have all those AP science and math courses.”

“You make me sound like some sort of freak,” Lisa said. “Don’t forget that you have AP English with Mrs. Watson and Christy has AP Biology.”

“Yeah, but that’s only one course apiece,” Jenna teased. “We’re not the ones with the big giant math brains, are we?”

“Keep talking, Jenna Leigh—if you want to be wearing some of this salad.”

“Yeah maybe, but then your big giant head might be wearing my pizza.”

“You two need to stop, seriously.” Christy sat down at the table. “Do you know that you sound like freshmen or something?”

“Since we are freshman I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lisa turned to Christy. “Are you okay? How’s everything at home?”

“About the same I guess,” Christy shrugged. “Mostly I try not to think about everything that might go wrong.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lisa said. “Your dad’s home now, Christy. I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything to screw that up. So no more worries. Right, Jenna?”

“Right,” Jenna said.

“Ooooh look, here they are.” Terri Morgan’s nasal voice carried throughout the entire cafeteria. “All the little losers at the same table.”

Jenna looked at Terri standing there, a supercilious smile pasted onto her face. Next to her stood a boy—he was tall and looked older. His dark hair was wavy and slightly tousled and his eyes were a startling bright blue. He looked at her and smiled—with chagrin Jenna realized that she’d been staring. She looked away and down at the tabletop.

“Look, Terri—if you don’t have anything else to say you can just leave,” Lisa said.

“I’ll leave when I want to leave.” Terri wore a frozen smile but Jenna could see a flash of anger in her eyes. “I want you all to meet Brad, my boyfriend. He’s a Junior this year.”

“Yeah—he’s just lovely,” Christy flashed Terri an insincere smile.

“Nice to meet you—” Brad began to speak but Terri interrupted him.

“Brad, I’d like you to meet Lisa, your basic geek.” Terri pointed as she spoke. “And this blond girl here is Jenna—her main claim to fame is that she was kidnapped once a while back.”

Jenna’s cheeks burned—she kept her eyes fixed to the tabletop, not trusting herself to look Terri in the face.. .

“Really?” Brad asked. “You were kidnapped?”

Jenna nodded.

“And this is Christy,” Terri said. “And her dad was what we call a jail—”

That did it. Jenna stood up. “And Terri is the girl who wet her pants in front of the whole class in second grade.” Lisa tugged at her arm but Jenna ignored it. “Aren’t you, Terri?”

Terri’s pressed her lips together tightly. There were two bright spots of color in her cheeks. Without saying another word she simply turned and marched away, dragging Brad behind.

“Why’d you do that?” Lisa asked. “You know she’ll make you pay.”

“I don’t know.” Jenna sat back down. She bit into her pizza, trying to frame her thoughts into words. “I guess it’s because she just doesn’t scare me the way she used to, you know?”

Christy shook her head in amazement. “What happened to you this summer? Last year you’d never would’ve even thought of doing that and now—”

Jenna smiled.

“Maybe I just got stronger,” she said.

SMK SMK SMK SMK

3:39 PM

“You sure your dad’s picking you up?” Christy said. “I thought we were walking home together.”

“I thought so too,” Jenna said. “But he called me earlier and said that he’d pick me up.”

“Is he taking you somewhere special after school?”

“He could be,” Jenna said. “Or maybe there’s something else—like—” But she couldn’t tell that to anyone else, not ever.

Christy’s expression was confused. “Like what?”

“Nothing,” Jenna told her. “It isn’t important.” She checked her wristwatch—a quarter to four. He was late. Was the Corvette even in the car line? Jenna stepped off the curb to look—

“Watch out!”

The shout came from behind—before Jenna had a chance to do anything a pair of strong arms grabbed her, lifting her off the ground—

SMK SMK SMK SMK

“Thank God,” the voice was saying. “If that car had hit you—”

It was a guy’s voice, Jenna realized—it sounded vaguely familiar. But why was he talking to her?

“Jenna?” The next voice belonged to Christy. A hand patted Jenna’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—I’m fine,” Jenna managed to say at last. “What happened?”

“You stepped out into the path of a car,” Christy’s face came into focus as Jenna’s vision started to clear.“Brad grabbed you and pulled you back and then I don’t know—you kind of zoned out or something.”

“Sorry,” Jenna said. She looked up, her gaze going from Christy to Brad. Sudden tears pricked her eyes. “I really didn’t mean to do that—I think I was just a little surprised.” Jenna tried to stand, but her legs were too wobbly and she fell back onto the pavement.

“Hey I’m just glad you didn’t get hit,” Brad said. “Sorry if I scared you—let me help you up.” He extended his hand. Jenna was about to reach out to take his hand when she saw her dad. He wasn’t looking at her, though. Dad was facing Brad, almost nose to nose, his hands clenched into fists.

3:50 PM

“Anyone want to tell me what happened here?” Dad’s voice sounded calm, but Jenna could feel the anger in his words.

“Why?” Brad asked. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh yeah,” Dad said. “There’s definitely a problem. Now tell me what happened.”

“Hello,” Jenna said—surprised by how faint her voice sounded.

No one paid any attention to her. For one bizarre moment Jenna wondered if she had become invisible. She looked up at her father and Brad. Their noses were almost touching as their eyes bored into one another—reminding her of the staring competitions that she used to have with her friends. The only difference Jenna could see was that those competitions usually ended in laughter.

This time no one was laughing.

Dad’s hands were still curled into fists. Jenna saw Brad’s hands clenching too.

“You want me to tell you what happened here?” Brad said.

“Hello.” Jenna tried again, louder this time.

“What I want,” Dad said, “Is for you to tell me just what you did to her.”

“I just pulled her out of the way of a speeding car,” Brad said. “If that’s any of your business—and just who are you anyway?”

“Um--Brad you might not want to—” Christy said.

“Well who I am is her father,” Dad said. “So it is my business. And you are?”

“Brad Mathews.”

“Hey!” A shout finally got their attention— Both Brad and her father turned and stared at her. Now that she had their attention Jenna made yet another attempt to stand. Her legs still wobbled slightly, but not quite as much as they had before. Dad’s hand grabbed her own—he helped to pull her to a standing position.

“You all right?” Dad asked. The same eyes that had been filled with anger only a minute ago were now filled with concern. “When I saw you on the ground I thought—”

“I know,” Jenna said. “But I’m fine. He—Brad, I mean—he saved me. He really did. Please don’t fight.”

Dad looked at Brad. “I guess I owe you an apology. Thank you.”

Brad nodded stiffly. “You’re welcome—just glad she’s all right.”

There was an awkward silence as everyone stood there for a moment. Jenna felt like she should say something else but nothing was coming into her head. The sudden sound of honking horns broke the silence, startling her.

“Ahh—we should probably get going,” Dad told Jenna. “I’m holding up the car line.”

“Okay,” Jenna said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Christy.”

Christy nodded. “Tomorrow.”

SMK SMK SMK SMK

“What possessed you to step in front of a car anyway?” Dad asked.

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose or something,” Jenna said. “You were a little late and I was trying to see if I could find your car.”

“Yeah,” Dad said. “I’m sorry about that, munchkin, work kept me a little late. I’m also sorry that I overreacted, but when I saw that boy standing over you I thought he might have—” they pulled up to a stoplight and he looked over at her. “I guess I’m just still a little overprotective.”

“Dad I understand,” Jenna said. “It’s really okay.”

‘A Thousand Miles’ was playing on the radio—one of her favorite songs. Jenna felt like turning it up but Dad was still talking.

“Now about the car that almost hit you,” he asked. “Can you describe it? Did they even slow down or did they just keep going?”

“I think they might have just kept going”

Dad turned left onto Glebe Road. “You think? Don’t you remember?”

“It was all just kind of a blur.” Jenna hedged, hoping that would satisfy him.

“Do you remember anything at all about the car? Make, model—color, even?”

“Not—” There really was no easy way out of this—Jenna was going to have to tell him the truth. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” Dad repeated.

“What I remember is stepping out to check for your car and then Brad shouted and grabbed me from behind.”

They turned onto Maplewood. “And then?” Dad asked her.

“The next thing I remember is Christy and Brad asking me if I was okay.”

They pulled to a stop in the driveway.

“So what happened between that? Did you faint?” Dad asked.

Jenna took a deep breath. “Not exactly.”

Dad groaned. “Jenna just tell me exactly what you did do.”

“Well Christy said that I sort of zoned-out.”

“And what does ‘sort of zoned-out’ mean?”

“That my eyes were open but I wouldn’t talk to anyone,” Jenna said. “But I’m fine now—I promise.”

Dad shook his head. “It doesn’t sound fine to me. Maybe you should take the day off tomorrow and we can take you to the hospital—run a few tests and see what’s going on.”

“I don’t want any tests,” Jenna told him. “I hate tests and I hate hospitals. You hate hospitals too—”

“I never used the word hate—”

“You said they were weird and creepy. You’ve always said that. Do you want me to go to a weird and creepy place?”

Dad ran both hands through his hair. “Do you have to quote me so exactly?”

“I don’t want to go and I don’t need to.”

“But munchkin—”

“Dad please don’t make me. Please?”

“Let’s compromise,” Dad said. “This is the deal. When we get in we’ll call Dr. Kelford and Dr. Pfaff and see what they have to say. If they don’t think that you need to go to the hospital then I won’t make you go. Okay?”

“I get to talk to them too, though—right?”

Dad sighed. “Yes, you get to talk to them too. Is that a deal?”

Jenna smiled. “It’s a deal.”

SMK SMK SMK SMK

4300 Maplewood Drive

4:30 PM

The first thing that Christy heard as she put her keys into the lock was the sound of raised voices. She paused for a moment.

“I want those discs, Blakeney.”

The man’s voice was unfamiliar and heavily accented. Russian? Christy wasn’t sure. Carefully she withdrew the key from the lock and knelt down, pressing her ear against the door.

“I told you, you’ll have the chance to bid for the information just like anyone else.” Her dad’s voice. “I must warn you, though—the price is getting steep.”

“Maybe I don’t pay at all.” The tone of the other man’s voice sent a shiver through Christy’s body. “Eh? Maybe I take what I want—right here and now. I’m not a man who’s used to waiting.”

A long silence. Christy’s right knee was beginning to shake uncontrollably—she prayed that no one would be able to hear it. .

“Oh I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you, Ustinoff,” Dad said. “Those who have tried to cross me in the past have regretted it. Are you in the bidding?”

“We are in, Blakeney—for now.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other.” Dad said. “Oh and leave out the back way, Ustinoff—this is a decent neighborhood and I don’t want you to be seen.”

Another long silence. Christy heard the back door slam. Briefly she closed her eyes.

‘Oh dad,’ she thought. ‘What are you doing this time?’

Just act normal. Christy rose, gathering her books in her hands. Once more she tried to insert the key in the lock once more but her hands were shaking so much that it wouldn’t fit properly. The front door opened suddenly—startled, she jumped back with a little squeak. Her dad stood there, smiling.

“I thought that was you, gumdrop,” he said. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

Christy shook her head. “I wasn’t scared—just surprised.”

“Where’s your little friend Jenna?” Dad asked. “I thought she was walking home with you.”

“No, her Dad picked her up.”

Dad’s smile widened. “That’s okay—it just means there’s more for us.”

Christy stared at her dad in confusion. “More what for us?”

“Well your mom’s out shopping so I made us some donut holes. I thought we could eat them while I help you with your homework—you know—like we used to when you were little.”

Christy just kept staring at him, thoughts racing through her head:

‘Who was the man you were talking to?’

‘Just what are you mixed up in?’

All those questions—but Christy didn’t ask them—there was a part of her didn’t want to know the answers. And Dad was smiling at her—a contagious smile that made her want to smile back.

Dad was a nice guy—he wouldn’t be involved in anything bad. He couldn’t be.

“Sure, Dad.” Christy told him. “Donut holes would be great.”

TBC