Page 8 of The Secret

Stamoran nodded.

Kasluga said, “They can’t both have had fatal accidents, one after the other. So suicide? Really?”

“No. I think someone killed them.”

“Killed, as in murdered?”

Stamoran nodded again.

Kasluga shook her head. “Why would anyone want to murder a couple of retired scientists? That makes no sense.”

“Susan, there are some things you should know about what happened in ’69. Things I didn’t tell you before, for reasons that will become obvious. But I need to fill you in now, because I think you’re in danger.”

“Danger? Me? How? I had nothing to do with whatever work those guys were doing.”

“I know.”

“It was the 1960s, for God’s sake. It was hard enough as a woman to get any kind of research job. No matter that I was smarter than every man who had applied to Mason Chemical in the previous ten years. Probably the previous twenty. And that I could run rings around every man who was already there when they did finally hire me. The assholes wouldn’t let me near anything halfway interesting.”

“Which is why you took the position in India. I know. And that was a wise move.”

“It wasn’t. I thought if I got away from corporate HQ I’d have more freedom, but no. I was still stuck on the sidelines. Only over there I was caught in the million-degree heat with no amenities and nothing to do. Not until the shit hit the fan, anyway. Then they wanted a pretty face to stick in front of the cameras until the fuss blew over. Pretty and naïve. I went from unwanted hanger-on to flavor of the month, overnight. Suddenly they couldn’t get enough of me. And boy, did I pay the price for that, the minute they didn’t need me anymore.”

“You were taken advantage of. Used as a PR mouthpiece. That’s clear. But it’s not why I’m worried.”

“So what’s the problem? A couple of guys I had basically no connection with, more than twenty years ago, might have been murdered. If anyone should be looking over their shoulders, it’s the other members of that team, surely? Maybe you should be talking to them. Maybe someone has a grudge. Maybe one of the surviving scientists.”

“I don’t think so. This is the work of an outsider. And I’m taking the appropriate steps. The surviving members will all be…taken care of.”

“You really think someone’s going after the rest of the team, then? All of them? Why? What did they do?”

Stamoran didn’t reply.

Kasluga glared at him. “And why is someone so upset about it now, after all this time?”

Stamoran took a moment, then said, “There were seven people on that team. On the face of it, all legitimate scientists. But that’s not all they were. Two were employed by the army. Five, by the CIA. Their civilian credentials were a cover.”

Kasluga lifted her mug, then set it back down on the countertop. “You’re joking. The place where I worked was crawling with soldiers and spies? How long have you known?”

Stamoran said, “That’s not important.”

“The hell it isn’t. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It was on a need-to-know basis. You didn’t need to know. Now you do.”

Kasluga shrugged. “Explains the secret squirrel vibe, I guess. What were they working on?”

Stamoran shook his head. “That’s not important, either. There are only two things that matter right now. First, I do believe someone is going after the whole team. Two dead in suspicious circumstances, one after another, is too big of a coincidence. Second, technically there weren’t seven people involved. There were eight. Someone else was connected to that project, indirectly. But significantly.”

Kasluga reached for her mug, then pulled her hand back and pressed it against the outside of her thigh. “An eighth person? You sure?”

Stamoran nodded. “Certain.”

Kasluga took a breath. “You know who it is?”

Stamoran nodded again. “I do.”

Kasluga rested her palms on the countertop and leaned all her weight on them. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Charles? If you have something to say, say it.”

---