Part 18 (1/2)
”As an officer of the United States Army,” he said, ”I swore an oath. I can't betray my country. Not for any reason.”
Her eyes narrowed. ”I gave you a direct order.”
”But...”
”Choose your next words very carefully.”
Smythe looked around the room and saw everybody watching him. He couldn't argue his way out of this situation. He had only two choices: comply with the order or fight for his life. He didn't think he could beat Ethel, and if by some miracle he did, he would still have to contend with Aaron and the rest. Realistically, he had zero chance of survival.
This was not the first time he had faced a life or death decision over his beliefs. It was an occupational hazard for a soldier. The idea of dying didn't bother him too much, but he had to decide whether it was worth it. What was the benefit?
He was protecting his medical knowledge of PRooFS. Technically, the information was cla.s.sified, but secrets came in many shades and this one was at the pale end of the spectrum. If the illness spread, civilian doctors would need to learn the truth anyway.
”I'll answer his questions, ma'am,” Smythe said at last.
Ethel nodded. ”Despite your stubborn ignorance, you can make good decisions. That is very encouraging. I'm glad you're part of the team.” She walked out of the laboratory.
Chapter Twelve.
Marina checked the address of the apartment building to confirm she was in the right place. It was made of brown bricks and had a rectangular shape that was remarkable for its lack of architectural interest. Clearly, the developer had wanted to build a simple box to hold people and nothing more. Each apartment unit had a rusty air conditioner sticking out of a window, and the rain gutters were falling apart.
I'm looking for apartment six, Marina thought.
She went to the front door. There were eight names listed, each with a call b.u.t.ton. The name for apartment six was ”Jones.” After a moment of thought, she pressed the b.u.t.ton for apartment seven, which had the name ”Walters.”
The voice of an old woman came out of a speaker below. ”Yes? Who is it?”
Marina immediately knew how to proceed. ”Mrs. Walters?” she said. ”This is Deborah Page from the Social Security Administration.”
”Social Security?” the woman croaked.
”Yes. There's a problem with your monthly payment. May I come up? It's important that we talk. If the matter can't be resolved, the administration will have to stop your checks.”
”What?” Mrs. Walters said in a fearful tone. ”Yes, come up!” The door buzzed.
Marina pushed the door open and went through. The narrow hallway inside smelled like a garbage dumpster. She didn't trust the dented elevator so she climbed a flight of stairs. The second floor had four doors, numbered ”5,” ”6,” ”7,” and ”8.” Everything was painted a flat, pale green, the color of dying gra.s.s. She went to apartment seven and knocked politely.
The door opened, revealing a withered, ancient woman in a purple nightgown. She needed a walker, and an oxygen tube ran from her nose to a green tank on a rolling stand.
”I hope this won't take long, Mrs. Walters,” Marina said with a smile.
”What's the problem, dear?”
”We received a change of address notice the administration thought was suspicious. I came here to verify it.”
”What notice?” Mrs. Walters said.
”A letter requested that we send your checks to apartment six instead of apartment seven. We checked the address and found a Mr. Jones is living there. Do you know him?”
”No.” She shook her head. ”I only met him once when he moved in. That was five or six years ago. I can't even remember what he looks like. Do you think he's trying to steal my checks?”
”That's possible. Can you tell me anything about him?”
”No. Sorry.”
”I don't understand,” Marina said. ”This man is your neighbor, isn't he? You never see him?”
She shrugged. ”It's always quiet next door. Very quiet.”
”But he must pay his rent.”
”Yes, the landlord is very particular about rent. Ten days late and you get an eviction notice as your first warning. A real b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
”I'm guessing this landlord doesn't have a close, personal relations.h.i.+p with his tenants.”
”You're right about that,” Mrs. Walters said. ”He's just a name that I write on checks. He never comes here. This s.h.i.+tty place is falling apart and he doesn't care. The only reason I stay is because it's cheap and I'm too old to move.”
An absentee landlord and an absentee tenant, Marina thought. A perfect match. ”So, talking to the landlord about Mr. Jones wouldn't do much good.”
”Probably not.”
”We may prosecute Mr. Jones for attempting to defraud the United States Government,” Marina said. ”Any information we can get will be helpful. Can you think of anything else?”
”No.” Mrs. Walters shook her head. ”Sorry. What about my social security checks?”
”Don't worry.” Marina smiled. ”Your checks are safe. We will ignore the change of address request.”
”Thank you!”
”My pleasure.” Marina walked away and heard Mrs. Walters' door close.
Marina stopped at the door for apartment six, just a few yards away. She knocked but got no response.
She had a set of lock picks hidden under her s.h.i.+rt. She expected opening the door would take less than a minute even though it had a deadbolt. However, she wanted to know what was behind the door before she opened it. In her experience the enemy never just walked away from an important place. They always left surprises behind for uninvited visitors.
There was a much safer way to enter, but it was also much louder. She grinned as she considered the idea. Being loud was a lot more fun than being quiet.
She opened her phone and called Edward back at headquarters.
”h.e.l.lo?” he said.
”It's Marina. I'm at the address now.”
”How does it look, ma'am?”
”It's a dump,” she said. ”I'm going to blast the door open. I don't want the police or the fire department cras.h.i.+ng the party.”