Chapter 6
Director Merrick stepped off the elevator and joined Don, Megan and David in the bullpen. "I finally reached Director Samuels at DOD," he announced as he arrived at Don's desk. "Not as easy to do as it should be at…" — he checked his watch — "almost 2:30 a.m., in Washington. He insists Addison is still contained, in military custody at Fort Leavenworth."
David hung up his phone and stood to join the Director at Don's desk. "Got a rush on those prints, thanks to a word from the Director here. The man in Charlie's living room is Albert Michaels, U.S. Army. Get this. He's military police, based at Leavenworth."
"That's pretty damn coincidental," mused Don.
"It gets worse," continued David. "Officer of the Day checked, and Michaels showed up for duty this morning — as a last-minute substitute on a transport team. Addison was headed back to court. O.D. said Michaels never signed out, but he also said that kind of inattention to the rules wasn't unusual with Michaels."
"I don't trust Samuels," noted Director Merrick. "Let's contact Granger. Maybe he knows something."
The suggestion was met with silence.
Finally Megan joined the group of men. "What do you mean, 'contact Granger'?"
The Director looked around as if to make sure they weren't overheard, even though they were the only ones in the bullpen at this hour. "After the events of last year, I'm sure he's kept his ear to the ground on this Addison situation. Besides, he's CIA now. That gives him additional resources."
Don slumped in his chair and stared at the Director. "CIA? How did that happen? I thought Samuels took him into DOD from here…"
"Apparently Granger used the situation to his advantage," Merrick answered. "All I know with certainty is that a few months after he left here, the CIA contacted me for a reference."
Don looked at him incredulously. "And you gave him one?"
Merrick stiffened. "You would have preferred that he continue working here, perhaps?" Don didn't answer and the Director continued. "Actually, I felt that Granger was particularly well-suited to serve as a CIA operative. Of course, I don't absolutely know that he was hired in that position, but I could call in some more favors …"
David cleared his throat. "That … uh, that won't be necessary, sir. I have contact information for Colby."
Now Don was staring at him — along with Director Merrick and Megan. David waited for someone to speak.
"Then I would suggest that you contact him," the Director finally said. "I'm going back to my office. There are some more resources I can tap regarding Leavenworth." He turned to head back for the elevator.
Don stood, and called after the older man. "Director, I appreciate your help on this one." The Director merely raised a hand as he continued walking away, so Don turned to David. It didn't escape anybody's notice that Megan had placed herself between them.
Don raised an eyebrow.
David sighed, but didn't back down. He looked Don in the eye. "He was my partner. A good agent, in an impossible situation. He came through LAX several months … after Addison. Had a layover and called me. I met him there for a drink. He didn't tell me exactly what he was doing, but from what he did say, CIA doesn't really surprise me. We've kept in touch since then."
Don looked at Megan. She raised both hands. "Don't look at me. I didn't know any of this." She decided to put her cards on the table. "But if I did, Don — if he had called me from LAX — I would have done the same thing. What happened to Charlie was terrible, it could have been tragic; but if Colby hadn't intervened, Addison would have killed him."
Don blanched, and she regretted her words. "We don't know that Addison has him, Don. Director Samuels says he's still contained…"
Don looked at David again, rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, this is your call." His eyes flickered to Megan. "Both of you. I'm not going to tell you how to feel about Colby Granger." He looked back at David. "But I am going to ask you to contact him. Please. Find out if he knows anything."
David nodded. "On it." He and Megan walked back to their own desks, and Don fell back into his chair.
He considered what he knew, with certainty. One was that Albert Michaels somehow ended up dead in Charlie's dining room. Another was that Charlie was missing, and had left information Don would easily discover was false with Larry, about where he had gone. A third was that at some point, he had felt the need to scribble "Addison" in Greek in the margin of a math journal — but he couldn't even be sure that Charlie had done that recently. Maybe he had a nightmare, or something. That would be understandable. The original encryption project for the DOD, Addison's desire to kill him and everyone else connected with that project, Colby's apparent betrayal and then accidental serious injury to him, the months he spent recovering from that spinal cord injury, the lingering affects that he would always have — it could amount to nightmares for anyone.
Don wasn't sure what to do, now.
He had sent a distraught Larry home after he had listened to the voice mail and gotten all the information he could. Should he call Amita? Maybe Charlie had told her something. He shook his head. Unlikely. As far as he knew, Charlie and Amita didn't exchange more than an occasional e-mail, anymore. She had been at Harvard for over a year, since before Charlie's injury. Charlie hardly ever mentioned her name anymore, and always looked so uncomfortable when someone else did that Don suspected he was still dealing with the ramifications of that relationship.
Should he call his father? And tell him what, exactly? "Hey, Dad, just thought you'd like to know about the dead guy in your dining room — and by the way, have you got Charlie?"
He looked up as David approached his desk again. "I left a message," said the other agent. "I told him it was urgent, but if he's out on an operation, it could be days before he gets back to me."
Don sighed, rubbed his eyes and opened the top drawer of his desk to search for aspirin.
"Wait. Give me that last name again?"
The tone of Megan's voice led Don to get up and cross to her desk, followed closely by David. She was hanging up her phone as they arrived, and looked at Don with a worried frown. "Forensics lifted several sets of prints from the house. Mostly what you would expect — Charlie, your Dad, you. There are still several unidentified, but there was one more set already in our employee database, where they found yours and Charlie's."
"Me?" asked David. "I went by a couple of weekends ago and talked to Charlie about my niece. She wanted some information on Cal Sci."
Megan shook her head, still looking at Don. "I think we can stop waiting for Colby to return David's call. His prints were all over Charlie's house."
