Apollo's Lair

Brooks stepped in close. “Bailey…. Dr. Williams, I’m sorry. Dr. Graves was killed about an hour ago. Sir Earl just called to inform me. I'm sorry for your loss.” Bailey collapsed into his arms and the tears started. Her body shook violently from the sobbing and she clung to Brooks as if her life depended on it. In a way, her life might very well depend on Brooks, but in her emotional state she wouldn't be able to see things in quite those terms. Brooks held onto her and tried to comfort her as best as he could. As her tears began to slow, he couldn't help but notice how good it felt to have his arms around her. He absolutely hated the reason this had come to pass, but her body seemed to mold easily and comfortably into his. “Brooks, you can't leave me alone tonight. Please promise me you won't. I've never felt so lost and hopeless.” “Don't worry Bailey. I plan on keeping you as close as possible for a while.” With her arms still wrapped tightly around him she asked, “How did it happen?” “A hit and run driver hit him head on while he was cycling. Have you ever ridden with him?” She pushed herself away, her eyes wide open. “I normally ride with them on Thursday afternoons but leaving kept me from being there.” The tears started again, and she held him even tighter. “Your not being there may be the only reason you are still alive Bailey. I am betting they find the car but not the driver.” And with that, the waterworks started again. Finally, he could feel the sobbing slow and she began to slowly regain her composure. Brooks knew she was trying to gather herself and he allowed her to do so at her own pace. She slowly broke away from him and looked him in the eyes. Her pain was obvious, but a steely resolve was starting to emerge as well. “Brooks, I think it’s time you tell me what you know. I need to know why this is happening.” “This will take more than a few minutes. Let’s wait till after we eat. I'm going to pour a glass of wine. Would you care for one as well?” “Yes, please.” Neither had much of an appetite for the room service food and once they were finished, Brooks poured two more glasses of Merlot. Bailey was settled on the bed, propped up by pillows. He handed her the refilled glass and slid a chair over to the side of the bed. She was settling in, so he put his feet up on the bed and began. “I own a company called Watchtower Security, or at least I own most of it. Eighteen years ago, when I was attached to Naval Intelligence, I could see the need for computer security and how that demand was going to explode as the information highway expanded. My brother-in-law is a real techno-weenie, and my business model along with his expertise, created a cutting-edge company and an invaluable commodity. We protect information. A little more than four years ago, I spun off a sister endeavor, and it makes tons of money as well. Almost all of my employees are former military, all branches, and all areas of expertise. We handle delicate situations for Homeland Security, the Brits as well, thanks to Sir Earl, along with other branches of our government.” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “After voicing your concerns to Earl, our British friend did some digging from his end and contacted me the next day. I turned my group onto the problem, and every time they pulled a thread, more of this mess would unravel. He and I started planning your 'leave of absence' at that time. I wish we would have had more time, by the way.” Bailey hadn't touched her glass yet, and her gaze had never strayed from his eyes. “What is it that you found out?” “Well, there are lots of Doctors and medical researchers across the country, and Europe as well, that are doing research into the GcMAF factor in treating both autism and a broad spectrum of cancers.” “That information isn't earth-shattering. The studies have been going on for the past twenty years and some of the results are amazing; and some very inconclusive. Our clinic has taken that research and with some things I have stumbled upon, the results have been very promising. I have also thought some of the pharmaceutical companies were nosing around into my research for quite some time.” “Bailey, do you know that in the past two years or so, more than sixty medical personnel in this field have died under some bizarre and violent circumstances? Murder, suicides, weird accidents, and most were given shoddy investigations at best. Criminal tampering and destruction of evidence also is very possible.” Now she took a big gulp from her glass and spoke up, “I know a few people I've met at seminars and conventions have died, but I had no idea it was that many.” She was looking at the ceiling when she spoke. “Do you think Stephen was murdered?” “Earl thought he recognized the guy you photographed when you first showed it to him. You are very lucky Bailey. He is pretty certain he’s South African and a former Mercenary soldier and a suspected killer. The images you took of him are now on the way to one of Earl’s technical experts in London for enhancement. As of now, Earl is about eighty percent certain its him. Hours after you photographed him, your partner is killed. In my way of doing the math I would say he was murdered. If the killer had any suspicion at all that you got his picture, then you would be dead as well. You are lucky, but Bailey that took guts. Let’s just be a bit more careful in the future; you may not be so lucky next time.”