I'd seen so much shit, done so much shit, escaped so much shit, that if I didn’t hear incoming, if I wasn’t dodging IEDs and RPGs and cheating death, I wondered if I were still alive.
In cells, I felt dead. Sitting in a cell all day drove me nuts. The only entertainment came when the they'd bring in a new prisoner and we'd hear their story and try to figure out what was a lie and what was the truth.
I lay on my mattress and covered my face with an arm, wondering when they'd finally bring my info before a grand jury and either indict me or let me go.
Burning in eternal hellfire would be preferable to this.
I tried to divert my mind from thoughts the case to Celia, wondering how she and Graham were faring now that Spencer was dead. Although I had seen her in person, I wasn't sure she was being honest. I figured they'd both be relieved that Spencer was dead. I thought Celia was starting to warm up to me, but would she be secretly hoping I was indicted so she could forget the debt? It seemed like she wanted to be with me, but I wasn't sure.
I needed to be with her to know the truth.
About an hour before my scheduled visit with McNeil, two guards came to my cell and escorted me to a conference room tucked away in one of the admin wings. McNeil sat inside.
Once the door closed and we were alone, I turned to him expectantly. "What's up? Why are we meeting early?"
"They're dropping charges."
"What?" I said in shock. "I thought the grand jury had to convene first."
"Usually," he said. "The coroner narrowed his time of death estimate, and you were in Boston or on the flight to Washington when Spencer was already dead in Alexandria. There’s no way you could have killed him. And your prints weren't on the trigger. It had been smeared by something, which suggests that although you may have handled the weapon, someone else pulled the trigger."
I leaned back and ran my hands through my hair, relief flooding through me.
"So when will I get out?"
"In a few hours, once the paperwork goes through."
"Thank God," I said and sighed. "What took the coroner so long?"
"Seems he had to be convinced to go back and redo his calculations. Spencer died a lot earlier than he initially thought."
"Who convinced him?"
"Someone at the FBI."
"Well, whoever it was, I’d like to buy them a beer or two dozen."
"I thought you'd be happy."
"I am, believe me," I said, smiling broadly. I was thinking that, very soon, I'd be able to make good on my promise to Celia to make her pay. In a very pleasurable way. "Very happy."
Then he folded his hands on the table and looked down at the surface like he had something difficult to tell me.
"What's up? You look like someone died."
"George was shot and is in Mass General undergoing surgery."
Adrenaline surged through me. "What?"
"And Celia's gone. She was abducted after George was shot."
"Fuck." I covered my eyes with a hand and tried to grasp what he just said. Obviously, Sergei Romanov had Celia. "Jesus fucking Christ." I leaned forward, my head in my hands.
Celia...
I glanced up at him. "What happened? How did his crew get past my security? I had that place protected like fucking Fort Knox."
"Someone inside must have been working with Romanov. Apparently, one of the guards on the perimeter was called off to help with some problem and they got in that way. They took out two of your men guarding the rear entrance. Both dead."