“I'm no heroine,” she said with distaste.
“You are now,” Kaldak said. “You'll visit that little girl who was given your blood. They'll film you giving the blood sample every day. They'll take shots of you and any new victims brought in. You'll go into the riot areas and show that it's possible to survive this mutated anthrax strain.” He paused. “And you'll give interviews about Josie and Emily and Tenajo.”
“No!”
“Yes. It's necessary. I want Dr. Kenwood to become the most famous surgeon in America because he operated on Josie. I want the head nurse interviewed. I want the hospital to have to put an army of guards around Josie just to keep away the media.”
Her eyes widened as she understood. “And keep away Esteban too.”
“I think we can rely on Ramsey for that. He won't dare have anything happen to America's little sweetheart.”
“And with every movement scrutinized, he won't be able to stuff Bess out of sight into a facility,” Yael said.
Kaldak nodded. “That's the plan.”
And it was a sound one, Bess thought. It could work.
“One more thing,” Kaldak said. “You're to tell the media the CDC is closer to a permanent cure than their official statement would lead anyone to believe.”
“Why?”
“I want Esteban to feel insecure. If he thinks a cure is imminent, he'll try to settle quickly and cut his losses.”
“Or distribute another truckload of money.”
“No, he won't try that again. Everyone's on guard. He's made his point and scared everyone to death.”
“You can't be sure of that.”
“I can't be sure of anything. I just have to cross my fingers and hope I guess right.” He added grimly, “One good thing. I doubt if Esteban is going to risk coming to Collinsville and try to cut your throat.” The plane bounced as the tires hit the runway. “That might be too bold a move even for him.”
“I wouldn't bet on that either,” Yael said. “He may be clever, but some of his tactics are bizarre.”
“Then we'll just have to keep her safe, won't we?” Kaldak unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. He glanced out the window. “There they are. Enough cameras to look like Hollywood on Oscar night.”
“I'm going to hate this,” Bess said.
“Now you'll see what it's like on the other side of the camera,” Kaldak said. “Come on. Let's get this show on the road.”
Collinsville
11:07 P.M.
The reporters flew toward Bess as she came down the airplane stairs.
Kaldak hung back, watching.
Bess might detest being in the spotlight, but she was smiling and answering questions with quiet confidence. He hadn't expected anything else. When it came to a pinch, Bess had shown she could handle almost anything.
“You son of a bitch.”
Kaldak turned at the low hiss behind him and saw Ramsey. “I didn't expect to see you here this soon, Ramsey.”
“I was already on my way when I got the call from the CDC that you'd pulled this stunt,” Ramsey muttered through gritted teeth. “I'm going to get you for this, Kaldak.”
“I told you I wouldn't let you do it to her.”
“I should have ignored you from the beginning. Before you let this mess happen.”
“Oh, Collinsville is all my fault? You weren't involved at all?” Finger-pointing was exactly the reaction he had expected from Ramsey. “It won't wash. I'm just a peon. You're the man in the driver's seat.” He looked at Bess. “And you'll feel like you've been run over by a truck if you let anything happen to her.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.” His gaze shifted back to Ramsey. “You think you're desperate? You don't know what the word means. I won't lose her and I won't lose Esteban.”
“You've already lost Esteban. We're not even close to catching him. He's cutting every tie that would lead anyone to him. Two hours after Habin's helicopter blew up, there was an explosion in a barn outside Waterloo, Iowa.”
Kaldak stiffened. “The counterfeit installation?”
“That's what we're betting. We have specialists out there combing through the ashes.”
“Isn't that dangerous for them?” Yael asked. “There's bound to be active anthrax spores in the ink they were using.”
“Not if the fire was intense enough,” Kaldak said. “Fire's the great leveler. The CDC uses fire to destroy even Ebola.”
“Oh, it was intense enough,” Ramsey said. “It melted practically everything in sight, including some men who were in the building. We're not going to find anything of value.”
“What about Cody Jeffers?”
“He called his mother about three hours ago and she hung up on him.”
Kaldak went still. “He called her?”
“He was begging and pleading with her. She hung up before we could get a trace. Since then there's been no sign of him. Esteban probably took care of that loose end too.”
“When's the deadline for the money?”
“Day after tomorrow.” He glanced sourly at Yael. “The president is taking heat from your government. They keep yammering at him not to give in to terrorists.”
“My government is right,” Yael said. “There's nothing worse than meeting terrorist demands.”
“Having Esteban release contaminated money in New York City is worse.”
“Is that what he's threatening?” Kaldak asked.
Ramsey nodded curtly. “Do you know what another incident would do to the stock exchange?”
“I know I wouldn't want to give Esteban the money and have him walk away with any anthrax still in his possession. What's to stop him from using the threat again?”
“Her.” Ramsey nodded at Bess. “And you took her away from me, you bastard.”
“Too bad. I guess you'll just have to concentrate on finding Esteban instead of harassing an innocent woman.”
“Is that the pot calling the kettle black?”
Kaldak flinched. “Yes, I guess it is.” He stepped forward and elbowed his way through the mob of reporters. “That's enough for right now. Ms. Grady's very tired, but she'll be glad to talk to you all tomorrow morning. She still has to go to CDC headquarters in town and give blood.”
One of the cameras was immediately trained on him. “And who are you?”
“I'm Ms. Grady's personal escort. The government recognizes the extreme importance of her contribution.” He turned to Ramsey. “So Deputy Director Ramsey assigned me the job of making sure that her path is as smooth as possible. Isn't that right?”
Ramsey gave him a lethal glance before he forced a smile. “Of course. It's only sensible that we take excellent care of Ms. Grady.”
“He was just telling me he's already sent a force to Johns Hopkins to secure the hospital,” Kaldak said blandly. “I'll let him fill you in on the reasons that's necessary while I take Ms. Grady to the CDC headquarters.”
The majority of the media people immediately surrounded Ramsey, and Kaldak had to extricate Bess from only two of the more persistent reporters.
“This way.” Yael was at their side. “This is Mel Donovan with the CDC.”
“We've met.” Kaldak shook his hand. “This is Bess Grady. Mel Donovan. He took over Ed's position at the CDC.”
“I'm glad to meet you, Ms. Grady.” Donovan shook her hand. “Though I wish it weren't in these circumstances. Our team's staying at the Ramada Inn in the quarantine zone. It's right next door to the hospital. I made reservations for your party.”
“Have any more cases been brought in?” Bess asked.
“One. He died an hour ago.” Donovan ushered them toward a car parked beside the terminal building. A Collinsville police car with blinking red lights was parked just in front of it. “You heard we used the last sample for a transfer?”
“That's why I'm here.” She got into the backseat. “But evidently not soon enough. I hoped––” She shook her head. “It doesn't matter what I hoped.
I'm here now. I'll do whatever I can. How close are you to an antidote?”
Donovan shrugged. “We're trying to re-create Ed's records that were destroyed in the explosion, but it takes time.” He got into the driver's seat. “Believe me, we've been working around the clock ever since the mutated anthrax came to our attention. This disaster just put more pressure on us. Everyone wants an answer, and we can't give them one.”
“Let's get going.” Yael climbed into the passenger seat beside Donovan. “Those reporters will be on her again any second.” Kaldak climbed into the rear seat and slammed the door. “Yael and I will need cars with CDC stickers so we can move around the quarantine area.”
“The mayor's given us the use of his staff cars,” Donovan said. “We'll get you the stickers when we get to the hotel.”
He waved at the police car and the policeman started his engine. “But don't go anywhere without a police escort. The town is too volatile.”
The bitch was smiling and telling them lies.
Esteban sat in his motel room, watching the news reports of Collinsville. He'd been drinking in the devastation that was going to prove so profitable, when they'd cut to the airport and Bess Grady.
She was lying to them. The CDC wasn't close to a cure. He had made sure of that with Katz's death.
But what if people believed her? What if pressure was put on the president to refuse to pay? Those damn Jews were always getting in the way.
She was saying it again.
Fury tore through him. “You lie. Shut up, bitch. Stop saying that.”
He had turned loose the Dark Beast and shown them there was no way to save themselves. Yet they still thought she could do something to save them. If he was going to win the game, they had to remain frightened and subdued.
He must remove all hope.
Donovan's car encountered a National Guard roadblock two miles from the Collinsville airport but was allowed to pass when the soldier saw the CDC sticker on the windshield.
Bess had grown accustomed to soldiers and guns in third world countries, but they seemed an obscene anomaly in this small American town. Esteban had brought this obscenity down on everyone.
“Lock the car doors,” Donovan said over his shoulder. “The hospital is in the riot area.”
“Can't the National Guard do anything about it?” Bess asked.
“Right now they're busy just keeping the town quarantined, and the governor doesn't want to use force. These people are victims already. He's asked everyone to stay off the streets until morning, when more troops will arrive.”
A few blocks later, they entered the riot zone. Stores with broken windows. People carrying television sets and stereo equipment. Small fires everywhere.
“This is where you want me to show my support, Kaldak?” Bess murmured.
“I may rethink that part of the plan,” Kaldak said.
She shook her head. “No, you're right. It's effective showmanship.” She was silent, staring out the window. Suddenly she called to Donovan, “Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the damn car.” She unlocked the door and hopped out. The police car screeched to a halt ahead of them.
The old woman reaching into the broken jewelry-store window.
Focus.
Shoot.
The scruffy little boy carrying a spaniel puppy from a pet store whose burglar alarm was shrilling.
Focus.
Shoot.
“Get back in the car.” Kaldak was beside her. “You're giving Donovan a heart attack.”
“In a minute.” Her gaze had been caught by something in the alley across the street. Two slender figures silhouetted against leaping yellow-orange flames. She couldn't tell their age or sex, but they were standing before a rusty oil drum like priests before an altar. “What are they doing?” she murmured. She moved closer.
Focus.
Sh––
My God, they were burning money.
But when we see them tearing up or burning money, we'll know we're really in trouble.
It seemed a long time since Kaldak had said those words. It had been impossible to imagine then.
But it was happening. It was all happening.
So take the pictures. Tell the story.
Focus.
Shoot.
She lowered the camera. “That's enough.” She started back toward the car. “Do you suppose it was the counterfeit currency?”
“They evidently think it is, but I hope not. They had it in their bare hands.” He held the car door open for her. “And you're not going back to try to rescue them. They're likely to toss you in that oil drum too.”
“Someone should warn them.”
“There have been police cars cruising the streets with loudspeakers,” Donovan said. “We should get out of here. We're attracting too much attention.”
He was nervous, she realized. She supposed she would be too if she hadn't been absorbed by the sheer impact of what she was seeing. She nodded, and Donovan gave a sigh of relief and started the car.
Kaldak locked the doors and leaned back.
“You warned me,” she whispered as she stared out the window. “I don't think I really believed you.”
“I can't blame you. I wasn't a well of veracity at the time.” He paused. “But I told you the truth when I could.”
“When you thought it was convenient to tell me the truth.”
“Nothing's been done for convenience since the moment I met you. I know it doesn't make any difference to you, but I promise I'll never tell you anything but the truth from now on.”
“It's too late.”
“It's not too late. Not if––” He drew a deep breath and shook his head. “I know. It's not the time. Forget I said anything.”
She would try to forget. She had been trying to forget Kaldak. Yet here he was beside her, manipulating, guarding, supplying her needs.
Kaldak made it very difficult to forget him.
At the hotel, they stopped by Donovan's room first so he could take blood samples from Bess. Yael decided to check out the building security, and Kaldak led Bess to her room.
He unlocked the door and handed her the key. “Yael's room is next door and Ramsey has agents swarming all over. The floor is wall-to-wall CIA. Don't open your door unless you know who's on the other side.”
“I know that. I've gone through all this before. I'm practically an expert by now.”
“This stay shouldn't be quite as dangerous. No one's even allowed in the city without the proper credentials, and you don't have De Salmo to deal with any longer.” He smiled crookedly. “And who in Collinsville would want to kill the new Mother Teresa?”
“That joke's gone stale. I'll see you in the morning, Kaldak.”
“Actually, you won't.”
She looked at him.
“I won't be back here until tomorrow evening sometime.” He paused. “Maybe not then.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I'm going to Kansas. Cody Jeffers called his mother earlier this evening. She hung up on him, but I think he'll call back.”
“Why?”
“He's scared and in over his head and she's all he has.”
“Then Ramsey can trace the call and get him.”
“I don't want Ramsey to get Jeffers. If Ramsey picks him up, it will be all over the newspapers. I want Esteban to think Jeffers is still free.”
“And what will you do if you get him?”
“I'll play it by ear. I have a few ideas, but it depends on how much he knows and how cooperative I can get him to be.” His lips curved sardonically. “I'm very good at using people, remember?”
“I remember.” She opened the door. “Call me. I want to know what's happening. If there's a chance of trapping Esteban, I don't want to be closed out.”
“I'm not closing you out. I'll take you with me if you like.”
“You know I can't leave. Donovan's team might need me.”
He nodded. �
�Remember when I asked you what you'd do if you had to make a choice between Josie and getting Esteban?”
“This is a different situation,” she said without hesitation. “If it was Esteban instead of Jeffers you were going after, then I'd come with you.” She turned and went into her room. “Good night, Kaldak.”
She leaned back wearily against the door. Kaldak, as usual, was relentlessly focused on his objective, but life had gone off-kilter for her. She couldn't walk away from Collinsville, not if staying there might keep someone alive. The helplessness she had felt at Tenajo was still too fresh in her memory. She'd do what she could here. Take one step at a time.
Nineteen
Day Four
Aurora, Kansas
2:47 A.M.
The small yard at the Jeffers house was overflowing with reporters and TV cameras. A satellite truck was parked across the street. Kaldak parked two blocks down and walked quickly to the front door.
He elbowed through the crowd of reporters and rang the doorbell.
“Better watch it,” one of the photographers warned. “She called the cops when I rang the bell this afternoon and they almost ran me off.”
He couldn't blame her. This media circus was overpowering. He rang the bell again.
No answer.
What the hell. He put his shoulder to the door and rammed it with all his strength.
“Shit. Are you crazy?” The startled photographer shot a picture of him as he broke through the door. “You're going to get us all thrown off the property. She'll scream bloody––”
Kaldak missed the last words as he entered and slammed the door shut behind him. The hall was dark but he could see a light streaming from one of the rooms at the top of the stairs.
He didn't have long to wait. A door was flung open and Donna Jeffers marched to the head of the stairs. She was dressed in a nightgown and robe and she was pointing a pistol at him.
“I'm sorry. I'll pay to repair the door,” Kaldak said.
“Get out of my house.”
“I need to see you.”
“You're trespassing. I'd be within my rights to blow a hole in you.”
And Then You Die Page 24