The Cardinal Bird - Book 1: Reverse Harem Series (The Cardinal Series) Read online

  "Ms. Hannah's out there stalling them. So are Dr. Harper and Dr. Scott," he said with a glance over his shoulder.

  "Two more cars pulled up. Cop cars," Brock said. "Seem to be legit. Maybe they're calling in for backup?"

  Karl cursed again. He looked more nervous now than he did when we were in Estonia dodging snipers and outrunning hit-men. He licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder again. Towards the door.

  "What else do they want?" I asked, surprisingly steady, having already worked out that there was more he wasn't telling. Oddly enough though, his nervousness seemed to make me all the calmer.

  Karl looked back at me and sighed. "I know you're innocent, Callie. I know it. I do. Without a doubt, but...they don't see so many shades of gray. They can't. They're part of an official agency that's sworn to uphold and protect the country. They...may ask you about Byte-Syzed. The things she's done..."

  I swallowed, tears filling my eyes. He called her Byte-Syzed like she was a different person. But it wasn't a different person.

  "Don't," Brock said, gruffly, turning away from the window to stare me down. "Don't be all accepting. You are not guilty of whatever it is you are thinking about right now. Fuck! I knew you were feeling guilty earlier, but this is the worst time to be figuring out why."

  "I'm Byte-Syzed. That's me. That's not some faceless person."

  "You were under duress," Brock retaliated.

  "Was I?"

  Karl shook me. "Like Brock said earlier. It’s not the time to be hashing this out."

  I could hear raised voices outside. Brock moved to the door to check it out.

  After a nod from Brock, Karl continued. "Don't act guilty while you're with them. They will put you away in a dark hole that no one will be able to dig you out of. And that's actually the better outcome. The second way this could go is...shit! I didn't want to say it this way...Brock, do you see the guys yet?"

  "Yes, but you're good. Aleks showed up and is interfering," he said begrudgingly like it physically pained him to admit the Russian did something right.

  "Callie, we had CJ run a background check on you. First thing we did when we landed. We thought that maybe you would want to know about your family or have them notified."

  I froze, thinking of what Ivanov had told me about said family.

  "Callie," Karl said. "We didn't find anything."

  There were more expletives from Brock.

  "No medical, school, photos, social media, birth certificate, social, passport. You should have at least most of those since you were able to leave the country."

  I relaxed a bit knowing that my deletion had been thorough enough to withstand the background search a computer-expert like CJ could pull off. My family hadn’t been contacted.

  I cleared my throat. "You don't actually need most of those when you're smuggled out in a shipping container on a cargo ship," I said. "Though I'm sure there are less...unpleasant ways to leave illegally without those documents as well. That was just the way they used."

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Karl deadpanned. His eyes were dull like he couldn't figure out what to even think about my statement, let alone how to emote it. "Never mind, the sad thing is I'm not even surprised when it comes to you. How old were you?"

  I shrugged. "Almost twelve."

  Brock swore.

  Karl's eyes were intense. He shook his head. "And you still think you're guilty for whatever happened over there?"

  "Do you even know what happened over there?" I asked, tiredly.

  "We don't have to!" Brock growled out.

  "That answers that. You don't know what I did over there. To save myself."

  "Callie, we can work through your guilt later, together, but right now I need you to follow orders. I need you to follow my orders to a tee, do you hear me?"

  Yes. They had saved my life. I owed it to them. I nodded.

  "Do not admit that you are Byte-Syzed. Despite what you think, you are not the same person. I intend to make it so that you can live to understand what kind of a person you are when you're free. I guarantee it's not the same person that was Byte-Syzed. Trust me on that."

  I nodded again.

  "It's imperative that you don't tell them your name. Don't just give them a false name. Just say nothing, if you can. If they do a search and find out you don't have any records, they might try to use you as bait—expendable bait—to catch Ivanov. You're the only living link to him. It would be too good of an opportunity to pass up. If they use you as bait, you would be killed. I saw it myself what you were warning us about. Ivanov has people everywhere."

  I ignored the chills that traveled down my spine at that statement. I licked my lips. "Can't I give a false name?"

  "Can you lie?"

  Oh. I looked down, shifting on the hospital bed.

  Brock grunted at the action. "Wow, that was so bad that you might as well have shouted the answer out loud. The answer is no. She can't lie."

  "Exactly," Karl said. "Even if you could lie and tell them a false name, they wouldn't find anything matching the name to your picture. Better to hold out...if you can. Might make them question who you are and why you won't say it long enough for me to try and get you out."

  "Get me out?"

  "Believe it. CJ and I... heck, even my colleagues back at the CIA. We'll work day and night to try to find the evidence to clear you. The real you."

  "Karl..." Brock said. The trepidation in just that one word raised the goosebumps up and down my arms. He was staring out the window, and his body was tense. "I thought that you said the head guy was Hector Zinner. Guy out there flashing his badge is Branson Grinley."

  Chapter 19

  What?" Karl asked. He was instantly on his feet and at the door. He looked out, and his whole demeanor changed. If possible, it got even tenser. "Okay, new plan. Tell them who you are. Don't hold out--"

  "What?" Brock asked, alarmed and heading towards the door as well. "You just finished telling her to do literally the exact opposite. Big, dark cell where no one could find her? Dead bait for Ivanov? Ring any bells?"

  "I know," Karl snapped. He paced back and forth. "Grinley's old school. Corrupt. But I have no proof despite considerable effort. He doesn't like me because of that which is probably why he's here." He ran his hands through his hair, causing it to become frenzied disarray.

  "How corrupt?" I asked.

  "Exploitation of contacts, blackmail, overt aggression...the list goes on and on, but the main thing I'm worried about is the fact that he goes off the book to use old CIA interrogation techniques. Illegal interrogation techniques."

  A beat passed as the room processed that.

  "No," Brock said. "He can't have her. To hell with that." He crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of the doorway as if he could block out the world from sheer will alone.

  "Okay, okay, this is what we'll do--"

  Whatever else Karl had been about to say was cut off as two doctors were backed into the room spewing out affronts about how people were interfering with their patient's healing process.

  One of the doctors was an older man with copper-colored hair mixed with strands of salt-white.

  The other doctor was an extremely fit man that looked like he belonged more in a tactical uniform taking down bad guys. He had wide shoulders and narrowed hips. He had mocha-colored skin and a shaved head. I could glimpse a tribal tattoo peaking up along his neck from above the white doctor’s coat. He had a strangely familiar voice. That coat was the only thing that made me believe he was a doctor.

  Stethoscopes were wrapped around both their necks. Their white coats contrasted against the black suits and ties of the men they were scolding and trying to stop.

  There were two guys they were yelling at. One was large in stature, maybe just a bit smaller than Aleks, but not by much. Massive, simply put. The guy was massive. He was bald and had on sunglasses in a cliché that was so cheesy I wondered if I wasn't having a nightmare about a low-budget cop movie.

  The guy next to him was small. He was maybe four inches taller than me which made him shorter than even the average female. His hair was gray and cropped close to his head. His eyes were calculating like Brock's when he was trying to piece together the puzzle to my guilt earlier, but they lacked the warmth Brock's had. Instead, they were just dead.

  He locked on Karl. "Enough!" he yelled then turned up a sly smile. "Karl Westphal. What is this circus? This is your doing—I just know it is. I should have you taken in for obstruction."

  Karl replied with such animosity that I had little doubt that the short, smug one was Agent Branson Grinley. "You're not a cop. We're an intelligence-gathering agency."

  "That's funny," Agent Grinley's voice was self-satisfied. "I thought you might say something of that nature. It's neat how well you get to know the people you work with when you're a good agent." The statement was saturated with implication. "I happen to have some LEO's downstairs ready to take you in if you continue to parade around people to stop me from taking this girl into custody."

  I'd met people like this agent before; I wasn't a fan.

  "You cannot do that!" one of the doctors, the older one yelled. "I'm a doctor here, and it is still not safe to take her."

  Agent Grinley's eyes looked my way. Brock, having moved sometime in the distraction of the scuffle to flank me, tensed up. Grinley's smile got bigger at the action as he seemed to taunt Brock’s powerlessness in the situation. "She looks fine to me."

  "Right, and you got your white coat when exactly?" the younger doctor said, caustic and sharp. I recognized the raspy voice now. It was Doc Scott, in person. It was hard to connect the simmering angry tones in front of me to the casual teasing tone I had heard over the phone, but there wasn't a doubt in my mind that that's who it was...

  "I don't have to be a doctor. You see, I've got this little paper of authorization here. We're taking her. If you'll come with us Miss...?" he trailed off with emphasis, his eyes on mine.

  My name, I realized with a start. He wanted my name.

  The heart monitor started beeping faster and faster, seeming to feed Agent Grinley's smile.

  The papers! My picture and name were on them. My eyes went to the clipboard. It was gone, and I wasn't sure who had done it, but I didn't think it was with Grinley.

  Karl said not to tell my name at first, but then he'd said to do it because he was worried that I would be interrogated--read: tortured. I wasn't naive about that. It wasn't my first rodeo. Should I do it? Is that what Karl wanted? Or was he going to go back to the original plan right before they walked in? What did he want?

  I looked at Karl, but his face was blank. Did that mean he was leaving the choice up to me? What choice would I make? What choice could I make?

  No. No more would/could. Karl wanted me to see what I would be like as a free person. Throughout my life, I had built a list of things that I thought made up my identity, but was that all that I could be? I was a math-whiz, yes. I had been a hostage for a good part of my life, yes. I was a survivor, yes. And... yes, I was a killer...but was that all that I was?

  It couldn't be. I was the person today because of my past experiences, but they didn't have to be the only things that defined me. I was free now. That was a big deal. I had to assimilate that into my self-image because it was bound to make changes in an unpredictable ripple effect. Just like Karl had said.

  If I was going to get to know Free-Callie, I had to stop thinking about what other people would want or approve of. I had to find the answer myself. What was Free-Callie like? What would Free-Callie do?

  Before I could make a conscious decision, Grinley shrugged his shoulders. "No matter. Wouldn't want to give it away too fast. That would spoil all of the fun. We'll get it out of you. Eventually."

  Brock moved, and I instinctively reached for his arm. The way it stopped him cold, it was like I had packed Herculean strength in that hand that looked so small on his thick forearm. His mouth had been open, either to cuss the agent out or to reveal my name himself to save me from torture, but he closed it when he studied my face.

  His jaw locked, and he nearly growled. Really. Literally.

  But he didn't say anything.

  I looked up and got another glimpse of—presumably—Dr. Harper, a kindly old man that could be anybody's grandpa, and Dr. Scott, with a hard, diamond-face, sharp chin, and ebony eyes underneath thick, s-shaped, black eyebrows. It was a face that seemed to hide a fierceness that could also be sensual and mischievous with just a tilt or tip of those full, sensuous lips. He had been watching the interaction between Brock and me, but when he caught my gaze, he sent me an assessing look.

  I blushed, and Dr. Scott’s jaw unclenched as he smiled a smile with teeth so straight and bright white against his dark skin that he could’ve had even the most seasoned of dentists falling at their knees to worship it. It was a smile of movie stars. My blush deepened, and he winked.

  I slowly pulled my hand back from Brock, folding them in my lap as I looked down at them. I hadn't consciously decided but in the face of Agent Grinley's sick enjoyment and quick derision, I had discovered the first fact about Free-Callie.

  She was determined, and she very much disliked bullies.

  I kept my gaze on my hands and cleared my throat. "You can certainly try, Agent Grinley," I thought back to his gibe at Karl for not being a good agent and couldn't resist adding, "Better men have."

  There.

  I had drawn the line in the sand. My decision was made, and apart from Agent Grinley's condescending snort, all of the men in the room had respected that it was my decision to make and didn't interfere.

  Karl leaned back against the whiteboard, and when he moved forward again the greeting Ms. Hannah had left for me was gone, along with the last evidence of my name. The movement had been natural and unnoticed by probably everyone but me. I let out a small smile.

  Dr. Harper and Dr. Scott made all sorts of objections, despite the transfer documents the agents had presented at their grand entrance.

  Apparently, the doctors were going to give him hell because Grinley couldn't really arrest them for obstructing the summons. They were just concerned doctors looking out for their patient. Also, they seemed to be trying to "obstruct" on behalf of the others in the room that could not.

  The others seemed to sense that Grinley was just a hair-trigger away from speed-dialing whatever police contacts he had brought along for reinforcement. Because of that, they were doing their best to bite their tongues.

  I wasn't sure if Brock had thought that maybe his near outburst earlier was noted by Agent Grinley and was worried he had made things worse with his actions, but he was silent and still--his face unreadable.

  Dr. Scott put his hand in one of the deep pockets of his doctor's coat and pulled out his phone. He turned his body just slightly to shield what he was doing from the two agents as he sent off a quick text.

  I looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed as Dr. Harper had started listing off a plethora of medical conditions that sounded somewhat made-up.

  When the agents tried to take me without letting me change out of the gown, Brock had to be held back before Karl stepped in, forcibly gritting out several codes and violations against a suspect's basic human rights that made my head spin and Grinley to grudgingly back down. It was with a resigned air that he allowed me to get changed, though he very nearly threw another fit when he found out that I didn't have any clothes with me. The shorts and shirt I had borrowed were cut off on arrival.