Savich said, “Dr. Maddox, the rules are there to protect all of us from people who value the answers they seek more than they care about who they might hurt to get them. Consider the Nazi human experimentation. Undoubtedly, they justified their every action. And you, I notice you seem to be carefully avoiding talking about the crimes you’ve committed to develop your treatments.” Savich counted off on his fingers. “You haven’t mentioned your attempted murder of the young man in the hospital, or your kidnapping Kara Moody’s baby for some reason we still don’t understand. Tell us, what did you do to that young man lying in a coma? Can you show us his consent to be your test subject? Or did you kidnap him as well? Please do not throw out that old chestnut that the ends justify the means.”
“I did only what I had to do.”
Connie said, her voice vibrating with anger, “And kidnapping Alex Moody, a one-day-old baby? How does he fit in with your grand philosophizing? Were you planning on using him as a test subject as well?”
He said nothing.
Sherlock said, “It’s past time we see your father now, Dr. Maddox. We can wait for the warrant to arrive, but I see little point. Do you?”
57
A woman yelled, “Lister! Help me!”
Sherlock looked up at the landing to see an older woman doing her best to support a man who was mumbling to himself, waving his arms, trying to pull free of her.
“Lister, B.B. woke up. He raised his head when he heard the shouting, and he actually turned his head to the bedroom door. He started struggling to get up.” She wrapped her arms around him and said in a voice filled with wonder. “He looked at me, Lister, and said, ‘Help me, Hannah.’ I think he’s trying to get to you.”
Lister seemed unable to move. He simply stared at the man and woman above him.
Sherlock said, “Is that your father, Dr. Maddox? Is that Dr. B. B. Maddox?”
Lister shouted over his shoulder as he ran up the stairs. “Yes, it’s my father! It’s worked, it’s worked! Hannah, it worked!”
B. B. Maddox managed to pull free of Hannah and stagger toward the stairs to his son, leaning heavily against the wall to keep him steady.
Lister couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His father looked confused, but there was cognizance in his eyes, awareness of what was around him. Lister’s heart leaped. It wasn’t that his father couldn’t walk, with help, thanks to Hannah’s incessant exercises, massages, and stretching, and to Cargill’s holding him up and walking with him every morning. But that flicker of light, that awareness, was it real?
Lister was so elated he was dizzy. He reached his father, pulled him against him. “Father? You’re here? You’re really here?” He stopped short when he heard his father’s once-dominating voice say slowly, as if finding words was difficult, “All these voices, who are these people?”
Lister caught his father as he sagged against him. “It’s all right, sir. You’re here, with me. These people don’t matter, ignore them.”
His father pulled back and stared down at him. He cocked his head, a gesture from long ago. “What’s happened to you, Lister? You look old.”
“I have aged, Father, fifteen years. Let me help you back upstairs, and I’ll tell you everything. Don’t worry about the agents, it’s a misunderstanding. I’ll clear it all up, don’t worry.”
B.B. said, “I’m hungry.”
Hannah said from behind him in her soothing voice, “I can get you some of your favorite poached salmon, B.B., how would that be?”
He looked back at her, frowned. “Hannah? Why do you look so old?” He looked down uncertainly at Sherlock and Connie and Savich, showed no recognition of Cargill. His mouth worked, but only a moan came out. He collapsed into his son’s arms. Savich let Cargill run up the stairs and the three of them lifted B. B. Maddox and carried him down the hall, his head resting on his son’s arms.
Savich, Sherlock, and Connie followed slowly. Connie paused a moment, to look into an antique gold-framed mirror. “I wonder if he’d be even more surprised to see himself now, if he looked.”
Savich said, “I’ll keep an eye on them, Sherlock, you and Connie go find Alex Moody.”
Sherlock and Connie walked down the long corridor, looking into guest rooms, a movie room, a gym. They heard a mewling sound and looked up to see a door open and a woman standing there, a baby in her arms.
Sherlock said, “We’re FBI. Is that Alex Moody?”
The woman looked back and forth between them, slowly nodded. “I’m very glad you’re here. I’m Ella Peters. Dr. Maddox is having me take care of the baby. He wanted me to hide him in the laundry, pretend I was a housekeeper, but I couldn’t do that. When I heard your voices, I knew help was here.”
Sherlock took the baby from the woman’s arms. She looked down at the perfect little face and blurry blue eyes looking back at her. He was sucking on his fingers. “Is he well?”
“Of course,” Ella said, patting his head. “He’s perfect. I’m a nurse.”
Sherlock smiled down at him. “It’s good to see you again, Alex. Your mama’s going to be very happy.”
Sherlock and Connie turned at the sound of Dr. Lister Maddox’s voice. “Take him back to the nursery, Ella! What are you doing?”
“His name is Alex, Dr. Maddox, and he’s not staying here, not with you. He belongs with his mother.”
Lister took a step forward, stopped, and sagged against the hallway wall. “You betray me, Ella? You betray my father?” Tears sheened his eyes. “He’s gone again, my father is gone.” He waved his hand toward Sherlock and the baby. “I suppose you will take him, like everything else.”
“Dr. Maddox, we have the baby now, and we have Ella and the others to tell us everything we need to know. And we’ll soon find Sylvie Vaughn. Isn’t it time for you to admit to us what you’ve done, for you to help us put some lives together? Who is the young man in the hospital? Where is his family?”
He only shook his head, said nothing.
Ella said, “His name is Arthur Childers. I did my best for him as well. And there was another one before him, another subject. Dr. Maddox called him Enigma One. His name was Thomas Denham. He died.”
“You stupid woman! After all I’ve accomplished! My work must continue, it must go on!”
Connie said, “Cut the crap, Dr. Maddox. You used those men like lab rats. This nightmare is over, and you are going to jail. I pray for a very long time.”
“How can you be so blind? You’ve seen Cargill! You’ve seen my seventy-eight-year-old father. Why can’t you understand I had to use human subjects?”
Sherlock gave the baby to Connie, pulled flex-cuffs from her belt, walked over to Lister, and jerked his arms behind his back.
“But the baby! Someone must study him! He could hold the answer for all of us!”
Sherlock fastened the flex-cuffs around his wrists. “I thank the Lord none of that will ever be up to you again.”
58
SERGEI PETROV’S HOUSE
SOUTH OF ALEXANDRIA
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
A half-moon shone on the Potomac, and wind-whipped waves slapped against the wooden dock, rocking the yacht gently at its moorings. It was a pity about the half-moon and the bright clear sky with its stunning display of stars, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Jack and Cam huddled down near the water with five of the FBI SWAT team out of the Washington Field Office, at the edge of the woods looking at Petrov’s house. Ruth and Ollie were already with the other half of the team in the trees at the back of the house. The SWAT team’s standard-issue earpieces and the microphones in their shoulder pouches were dialed into the CAU comms units at their wrists. They saw bright lights shining from the living room and the master bedroom, and Ruth had reported lights in the first-floor back bedroom.
They all wore black from head to toe, their faces blackened. Cam and Jack wore black caps pulled low, Kevlar beneath their FBI jackets, the SWAT team wore their military-issue bulletproof vests, camouflage helmets, and night-vision goggles. They all carried H&K MP5s that could be set to full automatic for thirty-three rapid rounds, and extra ammunition on their belts. Cam and Jack carried their FBI-issue Glocks as well, and the SWAT team their preferred Springfield .45s. Several of the SWAT team carried crowbars and lightweight battering rams to breach the front door.
As they moved quietly into position, Cam whispered to Jack, “I feel seriously underdressed next to these guys.”
He whispered back, “They’ve got to be ready for battle, an ambush, anything. We can move faster if need be.”