The Nephilim (14 page)

“You were armed and you had your weapon drawn.”

“I was in the middle of a shoot out!” Garrick almost couldn't believe that the man had said that. “What did your agents expect me to be doing? Holding a bag of candyfloss?”

“Besides my weapon was empty, all three clips expended, and I did not at any stage aim it at your idiots. I just turned when my name was called, they yelled “gun” and shot me. If I wasn't wearing a vest I'd be dead.”

“That's your version of events.”

“Backed up by the eyewitness evidence of half a dozen other agents who saw the entire fiasco and also captured it on video.”

The deputy director jumped back in abruptly and the Treasury man suddenly shut up. There was little he could say against a video. And even Garrick had forgotten that there would be video of the event. The FBI tried to take video of all their most high profile take downs. It was useful in court after the event, and as training material. But eventually the Treasury man tried to defend the indefensible once more.

“Mistakes might have been made during the course of the arrest.”

The man did his best to hold his head up as he said it, but he couldn't. Not completely. And that was enough to make Garrick angry all over again.

“Mistakes!” Garrick wasn't in the mood for political double speak. Not after what he'd heard. “From what I've just heard three agents have been shot. One of them, namely myself, was gunned down in cold blood. The suspect is dead, denied the right to due process. An operation has been completely botched. And it's not as if the operation wasn't notified in advance. Every police officer and agency within a hundred miles was informed of what was happening. Treasury included.”

And while he had no knowledge of when that had happened or who had done it, he knew it had been done. It was simply protocol.

“Those aren't mistakes. Hell, they aren't even incompetence. Your agent’s actions bordered on criminal recklessness, and I can think of a lot worse charges that could be levelled against them. Your agents will have to stand trial for what they did, and they are going to serve time!”

Or maybe not, he realised when he saw the deputy director's face suddenly darken. They deserved to face trial and do time, but politics was a dirty game. And this was about politics as much as law.

“As I said mistakes. My agents could have and should have done things differently. But they were trying to apprehend an armed man known to have killed another Treasury agent. They had to move quickly and decisively. Especially when the rest of the team weren't there as they should have been.”

“Killed a Treasury agent?” Suddenly Garrick's heart started pounding. “I've never killed anyone, least of all a Treasury agent!”

“Really?”

The Treasury guy was suddenly in his face once more and Garrick was worried. He was talking about murder. He was talking about the rest of his life being spent behind bars. Well, until the execution at least, because it was a Federal agent that had been killed.

“Care to prove that Hamilton?”

“Prove what? How can I prove a negative? Especially when I don't even know whom I'm supposed to have killed.” Which reminded him of the obvious. “Who am I supposed to have killed?”

“I don't have that information at hand. But rest assured an entire task force was set up to arrest you because of it.”

He didn't have that information at hand? That floored Garrick. And by the looks of things it took the deputy director back a bit as well. That was surely the first thing he should have known. And yet it made sense given that Garrick knew he hadn't killed anyone. Could this all be some sort of colossal screw up? Garrick didn't even know how to ask the question. So he returned to what he knew after taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“I didn't kill anyone. I don't know Armando Benedict. All I did was deliver a troubled teenager to her new school.”

“So you said to my agents, one of whom is now lying in a critical condition in another ward. You just happened to be there to bring a known confederate of Armando Benedict to safety.”

“I brought a troubled teen to school. Exactly as I said to your agents. Katarinka Nelos's Aunt Cassie turned up on my doorstep the night before and asked me to bring her to the Westlord Academy. She said she was getting herself into some sort of trouble, running a little wild, but didn't tell me the details. And she knew that since I had attended the Westlord Academy that it was a good school where her niece would be set back on the straight and narrow. So I did just as she asked me to.”

“You helped a fugitive to flee justice!” As if he wasn't already close enough the man leaned in even more and Garrick was treated to a wide angle view of his nose.

“I most certainly did not!”

The man was busy prosecuting him again and Garrick knew he shouldn't be doing that. If he was truly suspected of having committed a crime he should have been read his rights and then been questioned officially by a trained investigator. The fact that he hadn't even introduced himself said that he wasn't an agent. What he was doing was a mistake. It violated protocol. In fact it smacked of desperation. As if the wheels were falling off the wagon. As if he was desperate to get any sort of admission he could just so he could bring it to the press.

Maybe he wasn't in as much trouble as he thought? He could hope. Maybe it was time to knock those wheels a little further off the wagon. Garrick also noticed that the deputy director was standing there being awfully quiet. As if he thought Garrick was doing a good job of defending himself. And as he suddenly realised, it was about to get better.

“I asked your agents why they wanted to speak with Katarinka Nelos” Garrick repeated. “They said she was the girlfriend of Armando Benedict. She denied that by the way. And as she is fifteen it did seem a little unlikely. I then asked if they believed she was implicit in any of his crimes or if they had probable cause to arrest her. They said no. I asked Ms. Nelos if there was anything she wished to volunteer to the agents about Armando Benedict and she said no. At which point I informed the agents that she was a minor in my care, that I was not her parent or guardian, nor her lawyer, and that therefore I could not consent to her being interviewed. I also informed them where I was taking her and who would be acting as her guardian when she arrived at the Academy. If they wanted to interview her in relation to her association with a known criminal, they would have to go through her.”

“After that I drove the girl the rest of the way to the Academy and left her in the care of the headmistress of the academy. I believe your agents have had every opportunity to interview her there. And as far as I know she was not at the time charged with any crime so she could not be a fugitive. And as far as I know that is still the case.”

“You may check my logs as I made a full report of the incident, including the agents’ names and the fact that they could only have located her by tracking her cell phone.”

He added that because he knew they would have needed a warrant to do so and he couldn't imagine that they had actually got one based simply on her association with a crook. Not to track a minor. So the chances were that they'd claimed more than just that to get it. Given what had happened they would now have to show that they'd had cause.

“That's not what they say!”

“Well it's what happened and if they say different they're shit out of luck. I recorded the conversation.”

“What?!”

Suddenly the Treasury man changed his tune from that of prosecuting a suspect to one of utter shock as he took a step back. In fact he went completely pale as the ground was cut out from underneath him and he tried to think of something to say. But there wasn't a lot he could say. It was a breach of protocol to record a conversation without an interviewee being aware that he was being recorded, but a minor one since Garrick had never intended for the recordings to be used as evidence. And he had an acceptable reason for recording the conversation.

“As a tracker out in the field on my own a lot, I often record my conversations with suspects and witnesses so I can later recall and transcribe them accurately. Also, so that I can listen to them again later and examine what was said for clues I might have missed before. They aren't for evidential purposes. When three unknown agents walked up to me in a diner while I was in the midst of a pursuit for a serial killer I naturally recorded them as well. Especially when I knew that the only way they could have located either me or Ms. Nelos was through a cellular communications warrant. I had assumed initially that they had come for me. I assumed that it had something to do with my case. My report of that meeting contains an accurate transcription of the conversation and mentions that a recording was made.”

“The recorder was in my truck last I saw it. I'm happy to provide you with a copy and in fact I insist that you do request one since it will show that I acted ethically as well as in accordance with the law and my professional responsibilities as an agent of the FBI at every stage.”

He was lucky to have made the recording he thought. It should be enough to save his hide.

But the Treasury agents wouldn't be so lucky judging from the look of stupefied horror on their boss' face. That pleased Garrick more than a little. The bastards had shot him after all. But it also made him wonder just what the agents had said to their boss. Somehow he doubted it was the truth.

“Thank you Special Agent Hamilton. I'll make sure that a copy is forwarded to Treasury.”

If the Treasury man was looking as though he'd been hit in the head with a shovel, the deputy director was looking very pleased all of a sudden. It looked like at least some of Treasury's fire had been put out. But that still left one dead Treasury agent to account for and that left Garrick worried. Could they really have some evidence that he'd been involved in the man’s – or woman's – death? Whoever the agent was? And how could the man not even have the name of the dead agent? That should have been the first thing he'd had. The whole thing smacked of desperation.

But as much as he wanted to ask he couldn't. He wasn't given the chance as the two men simply said farewell and walked off without another word. Marching out of the ward, deep in discussion. And by the looks of things the discussion wasn’t a friendly one. The deputy director was all but gloating and even though he had his back to him Garrick was sure the Treasury man was looking very nervous. He was in a hurry to get back and nail down the details of his case. He would be back though. Whoever he was Garrick was certain he would return. After all, he was now faced with the task of digging his department out of a hole. But still, Garrick had to wonder again – how could he not know the name of his dead agent? Maybe it was just too soon since the gun battle.

At least they were gone he thought. Heading somewhere further down the hall by the sounds of their voices, as they continued their discussion. A discussion that was getting louder despite the fact that they were moving away. But it was a relief, especially when it might mean that some actual medical people might visit him soon and tell him how badly he was injured. He was somewhat concerned about that. Besides, he could use the peace.

Then Cassie walked in and he knew he wasn't going to get any. Garrick barely managed to suppress a groan as she walked straight up to his bed. Just when he'd thought he couldn't be in any more trouble.

“Cassie.”

He greeted her politely – there was no real choice in that unless he wanted a frozen tongue. But she wasn't his favourite person just then. She had after all brought Katarinka to him, and everything that had gone wrong for him could be traced back to that mistake. Even his getting shot. He would have been so much better off if he had never seen her.

“Garrick. I had heard that you were ill and I wanted to check on you.”

It was true of course. Cassie couldn't or wouldn't lie. But she could still fool him – in fact she was remarkably good at it. But this time she wasn't fooling him at all. He guessed her game.

“And the other reason?”

“I was worried about Katarinka.”

Her words surprised him. Angels didn't usually worry about anyone. Not their charges anyway. They worried instead about what they might do. The mistakes they might make. And besides, he hadn't seen the girl since he'd dropped her off. What could he tell her? That the girl was a pain in the arse? She probably knew that anyway.