Last Chance to Die by Noah Boyd (good books for 8th graders TXT) 📕

“Why are you here? You’re Langston’s man, and I would imagine his making this arrest has made him quite the hero, no matter who it hurts.”

Kalix stared at Vail as he contemplated what he was about to reveal. After a few more moments, he said, “Your reputation is that of a man who can keep his mouth shut, and obviously you have no career aspirations. What I’m going to tell you would wreck my career if it went beyond you and me.” Kalix looked at Vail for agreement, and the expression on his face said that none was needed.

“Will I do whatever I have to to become an assistant director someday? Yes,” Kalix said. “If it means kissing up to Langston or anyone else, so be it. That’s the only way it gets done anymore, but I figure once I’m an assistant director, I can do a lot of things right that are now being done wrong. However, my compromises do not mean that I don’t know right from wrong, and despite the evidence I just offered, I suspect that Kate is innocent. This is no small wrong. If you hear me agreeing with Langston that Kate is a spy, it’s just a means to an end. I have too much time invested, and I’ve accepted too much abuse, to give it all up now. But between you and me, I’ll do whatever I can behind the scenes to help you as long as you promise never to out me.”

Vail wasn’t convinced that Kalix had been completely forthcoming about why he was there. “Does the director know about Kate?”

“Yes.”

The single syllable was delivered abruptly, as some sort of implied message. “Did he send you here?”

“If I had to guess,” Kalix said, “I’d say he didn’t believe any of the charges either. Of course I’d just be guessing, because the director couldn’t get personally involved in a case with the ramifications that this one promises to carry. Especially with how much he likes Kate. You have to remember, however, that the Justice Department has got their teeth into this, so his hands are tied. They won’t even let us interview her, because she’s so high up in the Bureau.” Kalix opened the briefcase he was carrying and took out Vail’s gun and credentials, handing them to him. “I would also guess that if he had his way, Director Lasker would want you more than anyone to do something about this.”

It was apparent that the director had sent Kalix unofficially to enlist Vail’s help.

“John, I’m starting to think that Langston’s not the only one I’ve underestimated. It looks like you have more than one backup plan.”

Kalix smiled. “I’ve built a career on letting people underestimate me. I am what I am.” He started to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

As soon as the door locked shut, Vail sank down on the marble stair where he’d been standing. Thoughts were rushing through his head at blurred, indecipherable angles. He sat paralyzed, a prisoner of what he’d just been told. After a moment he leaned back, setting his head on the black stone tread above him, looking for the comfort of its hard, cold reality. He closed his eyes and searched his memory, trying to find the image of Kate’s face. At least her smile. Then he realized that more than anything he wanted to recall her laugh. Its slightly husky tone, its honest depth. But it wouldn’t come to him.

He thought about how confused she must be, how she certainly wasn’t laughing at the moment. Was that why he couldn’t hear her? Because she couldn’t laugh?

Vail bolted upright in anger. Someone had to pay for this. No, everybody was going to pay for this.

He turned and ran up the stairs two at a time. In the workroom he let his eyes run along the wall covered with photos and reports. He started pacing back and forth. Since her innocence was not a consideration, only one conclusion could be drawn: Kate had been framed. To clear her he would first have to answer two questions: Who? And, more important, why?

The who had to be the Russians. Calculus, whoever he was, was not a double agent but a front man for the plot to take out Kate. With his mission completed, he probably had disappeared into the maze of his country’s bureaucracy. He was probably in Moscow, not being tortured but being decorated. And Vail had fallen for it, all of it.

They had known how to appeal to his ego. He had figured out each of their codes because he was supposed to. If he was really that smart, he would have seen through the plot from the start. There were all those little inconsistencies that he’d explained away so that his answers were the only ones that were acceptable. Ariadne’s thread—he had to admit that was the one thing that drew him in. Although its presence didn’t make any sense—and Kate had questioned why Calculus would leave a trail of clues if he wanted money for each of the individuals being exposed—Vail had invented a reason so he could feed his own ego.

And now Kate was paying for it.

If he was going to figure this out, the first thing he had to do was disconnect himself from all the emotion of the situation, and that included self-recrimination. He went to the desk and found the file with Calculus’s grainy photograph. He pinned it to the wall to remind himself that, although extremely elusive, his enemy was not invisible. He started searching the face for clues of his deception, but of course there were none. Finally he saw the Russian as just another face, his true identity meaningless. The only thing that mattered now was finding a way to destroy his plan.

He got up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. After filling the pot with water, he started measuring the coffee. As he was about to put in the third scoop,