Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
"We've got a lead", Tommy let Adam know via telephone and transmitted Cynthia's number to him. "There's got to be an address or at least a location linked to that number. Once you got it, have it watched. Megan and I will be there asap."
There was no way he or Megan would show up for another interview dressed up as Mario Batali and Julia Child.
Finding out the address of course was a piece of cake for Adam. He was grinning as he ordered a patrol car to keep eyes on the respective building.
… … …
"Nothing to report. The ground floor is taken up by an auto repair shop, the floors above form a stacked apartment. Both are rented out to a Weather B. Rayne, but nothing is moving, nobody's going in or out", the cop that Adam had sent told Tommy and Megan as they finally arrived at the location, now dressed properly again.
"Thank you, Officer Dunn", Tommy nodded, as matter-of-factly as possible, while silently deciding that Adam Lucas was in for a good ass-kicking. He beckoned at Megan to follow him, only to find out that she had already started approaching the front door.
Would she ever…?
No, probably not.
Tommy stifled a sigh. Behind his back Riley Dunn squinted her eyes and turned them into angry slits as she trained them on Dr. Megan Hunt.
Since they had good reason to believe that Weather B. Rayne was identical with their John Doe, there were no legal hindrances to entering the building, but of course there was a physical one – the door lock. "We need a locksmith, Megan…"
Of course that didn't stop her from trying the repair shop's door handle.
The door swung open.
Grinning at him, Megan entered the shop.
The premises were incredibly clean.
Neat.
And empty.
Huge, properly stacked heaps of metal parts had been erected everywhere. Surrounded by boxes full of screws, nuts, springs… all carefully sorted… They all shone like somebody gave them a damn thorough scrub down. And, judging from the smell, also disinfected them… They were clean like surgical instruments.
"What is this?" Tommy lifted a flexible metal tube from a vast collection of metal tubes. Megan took a look at what must have been hundreds of circuit boards. Her eyes were suddenly gleaming.
"Clever…", she said. "Very clever…."
"And maybe you'd let me know, so I can admire your ingenuity properly…?"
They both saw it at the same time.
"Don't tell me you also know what THAT is about", Tommy murmured, warily circling the object in the center of the room.
Megan didn't reply. Just like him she was completely focused on the odd construction someone had put up what she guessed were exactly fifteen feet from the front door, from the windows and the stairwell in the back. Surely no coincidence. Someone with a mathematical mind had been at work here.
"Megan?" Tommy crouched to the floor, taking a closer look. "You still with me?"
Megan still didn't reply. She was practically mesmerized, kept looking up and down, glanced at the ceiling, took a step back, frowned, walked around the thing, looked at the ceiling again.
Their object of interest was basically a square metal pillar, about four feet in height. No keypad, no visible power lines, no display, no indication whatsoever what the thing was about. Just a bright red button on top of the pillar.
"Megan!" Tommy got up again. "I know you're in your happy science place, but there is a very dead body in your morgue and I'd really like to know what happened. Or shall I get Ethan here, to drool all over the place?"
"I'm not sure yet", she finally replied. "But there's an easy way to find out…"
Like a bolt of lightning it struck Tommy what Megan was about to do. "NO! MEGAN! NO!"
"What, afraid that I activate the self-destruct mechanism?" Knowing exactly that Tommy, who was hectically lunging out at her, wouldn't reach her in time, Megan hit the red button on top of the pillar.
Tommy froze.
Megan looked at the ceiling and grinned. One of its panels had opened itself and a tiny device was slowly getting lowered downwards.
"Is that a camera?" Tommy shook his head. First a hollow tooth, now this?
"Projector, if I'm not completely mistaken." This was definitely the most interesting case they had had in a while. "Just wait and see…"
The projector activated itself and lo and behold, a silvery stream appeared between the projector and the pillar – a flowing stream of colors that slowly formed… the image of a young woman!
"Is that really what I think it is?" Tommy just couldn't believe it.
"A hologram…", Megan nodded.
Suddenly a voice could be heard. It had to be coming from hidden speakers somewhere.
My name is Cynthia Bodden. I met Weather B. Rayne a couple of years ago, at the university, while I was working on my doctoral thesis. He offered me to work for him, as his assistant. It turned out to be the time of my life. We sometimes worked twenty hours in one go. I never got to finish my thesis. But I wouldn't want to miss a minute. Rayne was extremely inspiring… He became everything to me, mentor, father figure, friend. What I learned from him in those few years…. The science of weather control became our shared passion. We were making significant progress and in the end came up with a machine that could influence the formation of thunderstorms. Unfortunately we still had to work out some …kinks… We had problems with the voltage… Two days ago I came into the laboratory and found Rayne killed by electrocution – a malfunction of the machine. We had video surveillance in the lab, I've left a copy of the tape in the desk upstairs. It was a horrible accident. Now, Rayne was a scientist through and through, he lived and breathed his work. But if there was one thing he regretted, it was that he had to hide from his family, thanks to the NSA and the other secret service rats. He was already beyond rescue when I found him. There was only one thing left that I could do for him. I could make sure his family would find out about his death and stop looking for him. Give them closure. That's why I left his body at such a public place. Thank you for taking the investigation of his demise seriously.
The hologram disappeared.
"She must have dismantled all the machines they were using, sorted them and cleaned them so that it'll be really difficult to figure out which part went where… in case somebody's watching our investigation…"
At this very moment somebody harrumphed from the door. A man in an unobtrusive suit flashed an ID card at them.
NSA.
No additional explanations needed.
And no need to put up a fight. Weather B. Rayne's death had been an accident. Cynthia Bodden had done her best to hide what they had been working on, so that their results couldn't be used for unethical purposes. Cynthia herself had apparently gone undercover. There was nothing left to do.
Tommy silently offered Megan a lift home and she accepted. Neither of them spoke a word as the car wove through the dense traffic. Their thoughts were elsewhere, not circling around the ill-fated evening at Tommy's place for a change, though. They were thinking about dedication, about science, about chances, limitations, pros and cons…
Life was difficult.
Speaking of…
"Hey, isn't that Lacey over there, at the MacDonald's?", Tommy suddenly broke the silence, nodding in the direction of the fast food restaurant. "Shouldn't she be in school right now?"