The Shadow Protocol

  She has to be eliminated.

  Images of the other people Qasid had killed flashed through his thoughts. Shot, stabbed, burned, strangled … Killing is easy. All you need is the will.

  “Adam?” He saw the uncertainty in Bianca’s eyes change to concern. It’s the only way. Do it.

  Another step. She backed away, confused—and starting to feel fear. He had seen it before, many times; the realization that death was approaching … and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

  Do it. Kill her! I have to get away.

  “Bianca, I—” Again, the words froze before they could reach the air.

  Kill her! Qasid’s voice grew ever louder, drowning out his own thoughts. The more he struggled against it, the more insistent and deafening it became. I have to escape! Kill her! Kill her!

  “Adam!” Bianca gasped as he grabbed her arm. She tried to twist away, but his grip was too strong. He pushed her against the wall. “Adam, no! What are you—”

  Kill her!

  His other hand took hold, tightened …

  Around the injector.

  He tore it from her, jammed it against his neck—and pulled the trigger.

  No! I have to escape, I need to …

  Qasid’s voice faded. Adam reeled back, collapsing on the couch as the Neutharsine took hold. His heart raced, every breath as loud as a hurricane. Mind churning, he slumped, struggling to regain control.

  “Adam!” Bianca’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. But when he forced his eyes open, she was right beside him. “Oh my God, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  He slowed his breathing. “I’m … I’m okay,” he croaked.

  She helped him sit up. “What happened?”

  “Qasid. It was Qasid, his persona. It—it almost took over.”

  “But I thought that was impossible!”

  “Apparently not.” He took a deep breath. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  She glanced at her arm. “No, I’m okay. You scared me, though.”

  “I scared myself,” he admitted. “What did you see?”

  “I’m not sure. It was like—like there was someone else behind your face, is the only way I can describe it. Your eyes went so …” She shuddered. “Cold.”

  The injector was still in his hand. He let it drop onto the couch. “It’s a good thing you brought this. I don’t know what I would have …” He trailed off, partly so as not to disturb her any further.

  And partly to stop himself from thinking about what he had almost done.

  Would he have done it? Would he actually have killed her? He didn’t know. That was in some ways the most frightening thing of all.

  She knelt before him, holding his hand. “Jesus. You’re shaking. Do you need anything?”

  “No, I’m okay. But thank you.”

  “So what happened? How could Qasid’s persona take over?”

  “Maybe because I was panicking? It was like the feedback loop with Vanwall’s vertigo, but worse, much worse. I was losing it—and that gave him an opening.”

  “What did … he want?”

  “To escape—to get out of here before he was caught. Before I was caught.” He gave her a look of anguish. “Bianca, I’ve got to turn myself in. I betrayed my country.”

  “No, I still can’t believe it. It doesn’t fit.” She leaned back on her haunches, still holding his hand. “The Persona Project is so secret, even other parts of STS don’t know about it. So how could you have known? Nobody here had ever met you before you joined.”

  “If I had access to the secretary’s security details, I would have had access to other classified information.”

  “So, what, you planned all along to give the information to al-Qaeda, and then join Persona to wipe your guilt?”

  “Something like that. It has to be.”

  “But if you knew you were going to feel that guilty, why would you do it in the first place? Was Qasid blackmailing you?”

  “No. I approached them.”

  “Okay, so … what did Qasid make of you? Did he think you were conflicted about handing over the files?”

  Adam thought for a moment. Qasid’s memories of the encounters remained in his own mind, but now stripped of feelings. “No. I seemed nervous, I guess, the first time I met him, but the other two times I was …” He paused, the image incongruous. “Business-like.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you were racked with guilt, then.”

  “But it’s the only explanation.”

  “No, it isn’t. Maybe you were doing your job—as a spy.”

  “But I gave Qasid the damn details!” he cried, pulling his hand from hers. “I took fifty thousand dollars of blood money in exchange for the information. And they used it! They planned an attack on the secretary of state—and it succeeded! They killed her, and over a hundred other people. Qasid watched it happen—” He stopped, realizing with shock that there was something familiar about the scene.

  Not from television, or a photograph. He had been there, seen the buildings and people and smoke around him …

  “The dream,” he said, as the answer came to him. “The dream I always have—that’s where it was. The bombing in Islamabad. I was there, I was right there after it happened!”

  Bianca was confused. “But the dream always ends with you seeing yourself lying in the street. How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. But I was there, I’m certain of it. It doesn’t change anything, though. I’m still guilty of treason.”

  “No,” said Bianca, more insistently. “There’s got to be another answer.” She looked thoughtful. “Maybe it’s a cover-up. The mission went horribly wrong, so someone wanted to erase the memory of the only person who knew what really happened. They might have—”

  A knock on the door. “It’s Tony.”

  “Don’t say anything,” Bianca told Adam quietly, before raising her voice. “Come in.”

  Tony entered. He half smiled at the sight of Bianca kneeling before Adam. “Remember those fraternization rules, guys,” he said. The smile disappeared as he took in their tense expressions. “What is it?”

  “Adam had a bad reaction,” said Bianca, before Adam could reply. She stood. “Something went wrong with the transfer. I had to give him a shot of Neutharsine to clear Qasid’s persona.” She picked up the injector.

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked, concerned. “What kind of reaction did you have?”

  Again, Bianca spoke first. “It was almost like … like a panic attack, I suppose. After what you told me about what happened to you, I was worried, so I gave him the injection. He’s back to normal now, thank God.”

  “That’s a relief. Did you get anything from Qasid’s persona? Did he really know you?”

  “I’m not sure,” Adam said quietly. “Everything was … confused.”

  “What went wrong with the transfer? Is Qasid okay? It’ll be kinda hard to cover all this up if our prisoner dies because of it.”

  “He’s fine,” said Bianca. “I don’t know what went wrong, though. Maybe I miscalculated the drug dose.”

  “You’re damn lucky things didn’t turn out worse, then,” Tony said sternly. “I’ve been into the system and made sure everything looks to be in order, but like I said, it won’t stand up to higher-level scrutiny. This needs to end right here.”

  “I think that’s a very good idea.”

  “What about you, Adam?”

  Adam said nothing for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Let’s hope this doesn’t come back to bite us all in the ass.” Tony checked his watch, suppressing a yawn. “Okay. It’s been a hell of a long day. Once I’ve wrapped everything up, I’m going to go home and get a few hours’ sleep, and I’d advise you both to do the same before it starts all over.”

  “You’re going to imprint Adam with al-Rais’s persona again?” Bianca asked. “After what just happened to him?”

  “Well, unless you want to go explain to Ma
rtin and Harper that your unauthorized transfer went bad, we don’t have much choice. All right, I’ll see you later.” He turned to leave.

  “Tony?” said Bianca, stopping him. “Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “When I got the PERSONA gear from the lab, I saw a disk with your name on it. Did you have your persona recorded?”

  “Yeah, not long after I joined the project.”

  “Before you had the surgical implants?”

  “Yes. They wanted it as a backup, for comparison if there were any aftereffects from the procedure, but they never used it. Why did you want to know?”

  She shrugged. “Just curious. I wondered why you had a disk and Adam didn’t.”

  “No idea. I guess Roger and Kiddrick felt confident enough second time around not to need one.”

  “I guess. Okay, see you later.”

  “What was that about?” Adam asked after Tony left.

  “I was just thinking … what if there is a disk with your persona on it, from before you had your memory wiped? If we imprinted you with that, then you’d know for sure what happened in Pakistan.”

  “Maybe, but there isn’t a disk like that.”

  “Well, it’s not something they’re going to leave lying around the office, is it? Especially now that you’ve started trying to find out more about your past.”

  “So where would they keep it?”

  Bianca glanced toward the Bullpen. “I think there’s a way we can find out.”

  When Levon arrived at his workstation, he was surprised to find two people waiting.

  “Wow, you guys look terrible,” he told Adam and Bianca as he sat. “You been here all night?”

  “Afraid so,” said Bianca. “But then, we had a lot to cover with interrogating al-Rais.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re not going to get everything out of the world’s most wanted terrorist in time for Letterman. Still, pulling an overnighter’s hard work. Darleen hates it when I do ’em.”

  “Darleen?”

  “My wife.” He saw Bianca’s look of surprise and raised an eyebrow over his thick glasses. “Oh, what? Just ’cause I’m a big fat nerd, I can’t find true love? I got my moves.”

  “No, that’s not what I was thinking at all!” she lied. “It’s just that you never mentioned her before.”

  “You never asked. You want to see her picture? I got a whole album on my phone.”

  “No, that’s okay, thanks. But there was something we wanted to ask you.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  Adam leaned closer to him, dropping his voice. “Tony said that you know how to bypass the system’s security.”

  Levon shrank into his chair, eyes darting furtively. “I don’t know why he’d tell you that. What is this, some sort of loyalty check?”

  “Yes, I’m actually Harper’s mole,” said Bianca sarcastically.

  Adam remained serious. “This is off the record, Levon. In fact, it’s off the books. Can you do it?”

  The bald man was still reluctant to answer. “Why would you want to know?”

  “Because I need you to find something for me—without Tony or Martin or anyone else knowing about it.”

  “Seriously?” Levon glanced at the nearby workstations to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. “What kind of thing?”

  “I need to know if I had my persona recorded when I first joined the project. And if I did, then I also need to know what happened to the disk containing it.”

  He was startled by the request. “For real? You’re actually asking me to hack into the system?”

  “Yes. And nobody else can know about it. It has to stay completely under the radar.”

  “Hell yes, it has to remain under the radar!” Levon insisted. “You know what would happen to me if I got caught accessing data above my security classification?”

  “The same thing that would happen to us,” said Bianca.

  “Not quite! Irreplaceable intelligence asset; pretty white lady; black guy. Who do you think’ll come out worst of those three?”

  “But you won’t get caught, will you?” Adam said. “You never have been before.”

  “Again, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’ve been doing any …” He couldn’t hold back a hint of pride. “… awesome hacks.”

  “So you can do it?”

  “Hypothetically speaking,” said Levon, straightening, “there ain’t a system built I can’t get into. Speaking purely hypothetically, of course.”

  “Of course,” Bianca echoed with a smile.

  “How long will it take?” asked Adam.

  “Well, with the security that STS runs, if I were trying to get in from the outside it could take days, even weeks. But since I’m sitting right here …” He gestured at his monitors and grinned.

  “You’ll help us?” said Bianca.

  “Yeah, I’ll help you. Hell, after what you did in Russia, everyone in America should be doing favors for you. You got hold of all al-Qaeda’s secrets! Even if you didn’t manage to bag al-Rais himself, we’ve still got enough to kick their asses. Plus, Holly Jo and Kyle wouldn’t shut up about how awesome you were when you scared off those fighter planes. Almost wish I’d been in the field to see that. I figure saving their lives is worth something. Well, Holly Jo’s, anyway. Kyle? Eh.” He waggled one hand in a so-so gesture, then smiled to assure them he was joking. “So, you want it right now?”

  “Can you do it?” Adam said.

  Levon snorted. “ ‘Can I do it?’ the man says. Weren’t you listening?” He turned to his computer and started typing, fingers flicking over the keyboard. “Give me a minute here.”

  More of the project’s day-shift members had arrived in the Bullpen. Adam saw Kyle approaching, on the way to his own workstation, and was concerned that he would be curious—but then he veered off to start a sports-themed conversation with someone else.

  “Okay, here we go,” said Levon, pointing at a particular file. “This might be what you’re after. It’s the index of all the recordings of people’s personas.” He opened it and quickly scrolled through. “All these here, they were done early on, when Tony was in training. Once he went active, there were only a few done at the lab, like if they needed an expert in something specific. Then, after the project was suspended, there’s obviously a gap—until it started up again with you, Adam.”

  Adam regarded the screen intently. His name leapt out at him from the list. The date beside it was ten months earlier—less than two weeks after the car bombing in Islamabad. “Is there any more information?”

  “One sec, man …” Another rapid burst of typing. “Yeah, here.”

  Bianca examined the new text. “They did record your persona. So what happened to the disk?”

  Adam had already read on. “It doesn’t say—but I know who can tell me.”

  Twenty minutes later, Kiddrick arrived at his office—and, like Levon, found someone waiting for him. In this case, it was Adam alone. “Good morning, Dr. Kiddrick.”

  “Morning, Adam,” said Kiddrick, mildly surprised. “Something I can do for you?”

  “I need to ask you something. In private.”

  “Of course.” Kiddrick opened the door. “Come in.”

  Adam followed him inside. Kiddrick’s framed qualifications were mounted prominently on the wall behind his desk, positioned to be the first thing a visitor saw on entering. The other walls were home to photographs, also in frames: Kiddrick shaking hands with prominent figures from the scientific and political worlds, the latter including Harper and even the vice president.

  The scientist took his place at the desk and airily waved for Adam to sit before him. “So, how’s the interrogation of al-Rais proceeding?”

  “It’s going well,” Adam replied. “We’ve got a lot from him. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Oh?”

  “I wanted to ask something about the PERSONA procedure itself. Specifically, about when I joined the project.”
/>
  Kiddrick’s demeanor changed, a subtle wariness creeping over him. “Yes?”

  “I noticed in the lab that there’s a recording of Tony’s persona. Is there a disk containing mine too?”

  Kiddrick’s gaze momentarily flicked up to one wall. Adam followed it to a large photograph of the scientist shaking hands with a distinguished-looking older man. “Why do you want to know?”

  The brief dart of his eyes had been unconscious, defensive. Was there a wall safe behind the picture? “Is there a disk? Is that where you keep it?”

  “There is no disk,” said Kiddrick in a dismissive tone. “Why would there be?”

  “You recorded Tony’s persona.”

  “That was just a precautionary measure. It was the first time we’d tried the full procedure on a person, so we wanted a point of reference. We didn’t need to do the same with you.”

  Adam regarded him in cold silence. He knew Kiddrick was lying; Levon’s hack proved that. But how to challenge him without giving away his source?

  He stood and crossed the room to the photograph. The younger Kiddrick, hairline slightly lower on his domed forehead, beamed smugly back at him. “What are you doing?” the present-day version demanded.

  Adam ignored him, pulling one side of the frame. The picture swung away from the wall, revealing a concealed safe. “What’s in this?”

  Kiddrick jumped to his feet, eyes bulging with outrage. “Classified documents! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m finding out the truth. I think you did make a recording of my persona. Is the disk in here?”

  “That woman put you up to this, didn’t she?” Kiddrick said, scowling. “Distracting you from the project, poisoning your mind. We should never have gotten her involved.”

  “This is nothing to do with Bianca. But it’s everything to do with me. Answer the question. Do you have the disk?”

  “This conversation is over,” snapped Kiddrick. He stalked around his desk to Adam, slamming the picture back to cover the safe. “I suggest that you drop this, right now. Otherwise …”

  Adam met his gaze without blinking. “Otherwise what, Nate?”

  The use of the diminutive made Kiddrick twitch with anger. “Otherwise,” he began, his voice almost cracking before he cleared his throat and repeated himself in a lower register. “Otherwise, I’ll report you for security violations.”