The Serpent's Kiss

41

Michael Church stood up straight, his expression shocked. “You knew my father?”

At the same time, Jill Church exhaled so deeply it sounded like a snake hissing. Derek tilted his head and looked at her, amused, then back to Michael. “If your father was Steve Church.”

Michael glanced nervously at his mother, then back to Derek. “Yeah. My dad was Steve Church. You really knew him?”

“Sure,” Derek said, gesturing at the car. “I’ve got to get off my leg. Good man.” He moved toward the back seat, struggled into the small car and sat with his back to the door, his leg propped alongside the seat. When Michael and Jill settled into the front seats, Derek said, “I was working with a CIA team in Dar es Salaam, investigating terrorism activity in Tanzania. I was still loosely attached to the Army, and your dad ran the CIA team.”

Michael jerked his head. “Dad was in the State Department. He worked in the embassy.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. He turned to study Jill, who watched her son, a set, grim expression on her face. “Jill?”

She shook her head.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” Derek said.

Slowly, she nodded her head.

“After the bombing, right?”

Again she nodded her head.

“Mom?”

“Your father,” Derek said, “worked out of the U.S. embassy in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, but he wasn’t with the State Department. He was a case officer with the CIA. Do you know what that means?”

Michael looked bewildered. “A case officer? Mom?”

Jill Church, voice flat, said, “A case officer is sort of a spy. They run spies, basically. They recruit people to spy for them, to provide them information. That’s what your father did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jill turned so she was staring out the windshield.

“Mom? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How old are you, Michael?” Derek said.

He turned. “Sixteen. Why?”

“If you had been ten and told people your dad was a spy, what would people have thought?”

Michael opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He seemed to think about it. “They would have thought I was lying.” He turned back to Jill, who sat rigidly in the passenger-side seat. “But why didn’t you tell me? I… I’m old enough to know this now.”

“We really have work to do, Michael. Will you please drive us back to my car. We’ll talk about this later.”

“That’s what you always say.” He turned away, but didn’t put the Honda into drive.

Derek said, “Michael—”

”Was my mom a spy, too?” Michael asked, still facing forward.

Derek waited to see if Jill would respond to that. When she didn’t, Derek said, “Your mother, if I remember correctly, was an FBI agent then, as well. Doing security things for the embassy, probably.”

“I was with the Legat.” Jill paused, thinking. “I was the Assistant Legal Attache. That means part of my job was to liaise with the local and governmental law enforcement. I was the communication between Tanzanian law enforcement and the Bureau.” She turned to her son. “And yes, your father, Stephen Church, worked for the CIA, not the State Department. I’m sorry I never told you. But I guess you’re old enough to know. Now, Michael, please put the car in drive and let’s go.”

Derek provided directions and they quickly found William Harrington’s house. Jill’s car was still parked in front. She got out and transferred Derek’s bags to her car, then leaned down to talk to Michael.

“Go on back to school,” she said. “I’ll call and explain to them. I doubt if I’ll be home on time tonight. Can you handle things by yourself?”

Michael shrugged. “Yeah, but are you sure you don’t need my help?”

Jill smiled. “I’m sure.”

“Actually,” Derek said, limping over. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m worried that The Serpent might have booby-trapped this house. Your mother and I need to reconnoiter the perimeter, then go inside very slowly and make sure it’s safe. I would really appreciate it if you stayed here and waited for us to give an all-clear before you left.” Derek paused. “You know, in case the house blows up, it would be kind of nice if you called 911 for us.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “You think—”

”And, uh, you know, if we’re like, um, on fire or something,” Derek said, a smile on his face, “it’d be good if you, you know, put us out.”

Jill sighed. She patted her son’s arm. “We’ll be fine.”

“But wait for us,” Derek said.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” Michael said. “Should we… synchronize our watches?”

Derek looked at his watch. “I’ve got 2:18.”

Michael checked his watch and adjusted it. “Check.”

“We’ll give you a signal before we go in,” Derek said. “We’re just going to walk around the house and check things out from the outside. But before we go in, we’ll start the clock running. Got it?”

“Got it,” Michael said.

“Good man.” Derek reached out his hand. “Nice meeting you, Michael.”

Michael shook Derek’s hand. “Nice meeting you, too. I’d like to… I’d like to know more about my father.”

Derek nodded. “When this is over, I’ll tell you what I know. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Don’t go anywhere until we give you the signal.”

Derek returned to Jill’s car and pawed through this GO Packs until he came up with the electric lock pick, a pouch of tools and a flashlight. He paused, then picked up the atropine injector the Birmingham cop had asked him about. He limped back over to Michael and handed it to him.

“This is in case we get exposed to sarin gas. It’s pretty straightforward. You yank this cap off here and slam it into the thigh or butt. Right through the clothes. Read the directions.” Michael looked frightened. Derek added, “It’s just a precaution, Michael.” He leaned down. “There’s only one dose. So if you have to decide, do your mother.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Don’t worry,” Derek said. “We’ll be fine.” And he turned to join Jill.