Chapel bit his lip. This was very, very bad. If someone could compromise his line to Angel, then they could find out everything he’d said to her. They could know all his plans and everything he’d learned.
He couldn’t imagine that the chimeras could be doing this. They weren’t stupid, but they had shown no sign of having the kind of organization it would require to pull off this kind of stunt. He hadn’t forgotten, though, that someone had to be helping them. Somebody had broken them out of the facility in the Catskills. Maybe, for the first time, he was running up against that shadowy organization.
“Tell me your name, right now, and who you work for,” Chapel insisted. “That’s not a request. I can have you up on charges for impeding a federal investigation — and maybe treason, too. You’ve made a very bad mistake contacting me like this.”
“Captain, do me a favor and look at your phone. All will be explained.”
Chapel frowned, but he looked down at the screen of his phone. The screen went blank and then lit up to show a grainy video feed. He saw what looked like an image of someone’s office, a desk with a green blotter and behind it a window looking out onto a night-shrouded cityscape. After a moment, someone stepped into the frame and sat down behind the desk so the camera could focus on his face.
Chapel recognized the man right away. It was Franklin Hayes.
“Your Honor,” he said, despite himself.
Hayes was the Denver-based federal judge whose name was on the kill list. This was one of the people Chapel was trying so desperately to protect.
So what the hell was he doing breaking into Chapel’s encrypted line?
“I know this is surprising, Captain,” Hayes said. He was an older man, maybe seventy, with silver hair but sharp, intelligent eyes. He wore an immaculate suit with a handkerchief perfectly folded in the breast pocket. “I know it’s unorthodox. But I assure you I mean no harm.”
“Your Honor, I apologize if I was abrupt, but I was serious about the breach of security. This line—”
Hayes waved one hand in dismissal. “Director Hollingshead wouldn’t even tell me your name,” the judge said. “Director Banks proved a little more tractable. He owed me a favor, from long ago, so I’ve called it in. My friends in Langley were able to tap into your line.”
So Hayes had connections with the CIA? That was interesting. Chapel made a mental note to look into it. It seemed everyone on the kill list — with the exception of Christina Smollett — was related to the CIA somehow.
“I’ve been trying to contact you all day,” Hayes said, “ever since I was informed my life was in danger.”
“Yes, sir,” Chapel said. “I had one of my people call you about that. I wanted to make sure you knew to get to a safe place, somewhere you could be protected.”
“And I’ve done just that,” Hayes told him. “I’m in my courthouse. I keep a cot here in case I work too late and can’t go home, so I’m relatively comfortable. I have state police crawling all over this building.”
“Then you should be fine. They can protect you until I arrive.”
“Captain. Please don’t insult my intelligence. I know what happened to Helen Bryant. And I have some notion of what kind of man is coming here to kill me. Oh, I don’t know all your secrets. But Director Banks filled me in on a few pertinent details.”
Chapel wanted to strangle Banks, and not for the first time. This case was so secret even the people working on it weren’t allowed to know any details. Yet Banks had clearly spilled some of the unknowns to a civilian, just because he’d asked nicely.
“I know,” Hayes went on, “that the man in question is more than a match for a few state police. They’re little more than highway patrolmen. I need better protection than this. I think I might rate a personal visit from the one man we know is capable of taking out one of these killers.”
“I’m sorry?” Chapel asked.
“I’m saying, Captain, that I want you to come here, to Denver, and protect me personally. Director Banks tells me I’m the highest-value target on your list. That I deserve the best protection. It’s clear that you’re it.”
“With all due respect, Your Honor, that’s not possible right now,” Chapel said. “I’m in the middle of an investigation, and I can’t break it off now.”
“I understand you’re on your way to Atlanta,” Hayes said, as if Chapel had said nothing. “That’s good, you’re headed in the right direction. It will only take a few more hours in the air for you to get here, to Denver. I’ll have a car waiting for you at the airport and it will bring you straight to me. I’ll let you know when I have the name of the liaison you’ll be working with—”
“Your Honor,” Chapel cut in, “I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”
Hayes waved his hand in dismissal again. “I’ll give you complete autonomy on how you want to set up your defenses. You’ll be in charge of my escort and you can requisition any more units you need from the local police department, should—”
“I said no,” Chapel said, more forcefully.
If anything, that just made Hayes look confused.
Judges had a lot of power. In their courtrooms, they were like gods, able to hand down judgments and throw anyone in jail on contempt charges. Chapel could only imagine how godlike a federal judge must feel most of the time.
Chapel had met enough generals to know that people like that, people who thought of themselves as omnipotent, stopped understanding the word no. It didn’t just make them angry — they fell out of practice with knowing what it meant. People did what they said, all the time, and nobody ever questioned them.
So it took a few seconds for the negation to sink into Hayes’s head.
Eventually he pursed his lips and said, “I can make a lot of trouble for you.”
“Is that a threat, Your Honor?” Chapel asked.
“I’m a federal judge, Captain. I don’t make threats.”
The implication was clear. Hayes didn’t need to make threats — when he could make promises instead. Chapel forced a smile onto his face. He was making a bad enemy here, and he knew it. He was about to inherit all kinds of problems. But for this one brief moment it felt pretty good to tell the judge where to stick it. “I’m in the middle of my investigation. More lives than just yours are at stake. The person of interest won’t reach Colorado — can’t reach Colorado — in less than twenty-four hours from now. If I can’t stop him before that, I’ll see you in Denver before he arrives. But in the meantime I have other work to do. So no, I won’t be coming directly to you.”
“Now listen here,” Hayes said. “I don’t remember requesting your opinion, and I won’t put up with—”
A hand fell on Chapel’s shoulder.
He jumped in his seat. Swiveling around, he saw Julia standing behind him. She was looking down at his phone.
On the screen, Hayes had gone silent. His face was a mask of utter surprise.
“Why are you talking to Agent Hayes?” Julia asked.
“Agent?” Chapel asked.
The screen of his phone went black, instantly.
IN TRANSIT: APRIL 12, T+16:14
“I’m so sorry,” Julia said. “I didn’t mean to see anything I wasn’t supposed to, or… or whatever. I just woke up because I heard you shouting at that man, and I came over… I guess I shouldn’t have. I’ll go back to my seat now.”
“No, Julia, it’s fine,” Chapel said, grabbing her hand before she could walk back to her seat. “I’m sorry, I was a little worked up there. But what did you mean when you called him Agent Hayes? He’s a judge.”