by Jon F. Merz
"What sort of bio agents are we talking about?"
"Would you believe this guy created SARS?"
Karen shook her head. "I thought that they said it was an offshoot of the Corona virus. They traced it back to China, didn't they?"
"According to the old man, SARS was the experiment. This doctor altered the basic structure of the Corona virus and made it worse, somehow. He needed to test it in a dense urban location. They chose Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Guang Zhou as the flashpoints for it."
"But why kill him?"
"He went over to western intelligence. He's coming to town to speak at a conference for medical professionals on communicable diseases. This will be his first appearance. He'll spill the beans about SARS and about an even deadlier disease he had perfected for the old man, when his conscience finally caught up with him and he fled."
"Good Lord." She stayed quiet for a minute and Stahl wondered if she was having second thoughts about helping him.
Finally, she looked up, her face hard. "I can get the materials no problem."
"Even over here?"
"Sure. I have friends who work in construction. It's not such a big deal to get it."
"What about identification? Authorization, that type of thing?"
"You show them a blasting order or something like that. Flash a picture and that's that."
"Even in the wake of 9-11?"
"The obvious things change, dear. The loopholes never do. That's why those nut bags can keep doing what they do. They go where they're unexpected."
"Nut bags?"
"I pick up a lot of slang from my students."
He nodded. "So you can make it?"
"Why don't we do it together?"
"We'd have to be careful," said Stahl.
She nodded. "We wouldn't want it to detonate prematurely."
"That would be bad."
Her eyes crinkled. "Very bad. Very bad indeed."
"I suppose if we both got a good handle on things it might work out even better."
"It would be certain to explode at just the right time."
Stahl looked up as their dinners arrived. He chuckled. "We almost sound like a couple of phone sex operators."
"Speak for yourself."
"Can we do it at your place?"
"Yes."
"How long do you need to get the material?"
Karen checked her watch. "I make a phone call tonight, I can have it in under twelve hours."
"I want it built and ready to position by tomorrow evening if possible. It's got to go up in under forty-eight hours."
Karen nodded. "Not a problem. I'll have everything ready to assemble it at my place. Come over at noon tomorrow and we'll get started."
"You're sure you can have it by then?"
"Do you have another alternative if I don't come through?"
Sure. He could walk up to his target and blow his brains out. Of course, then about fifty bullets would impale his own body when the security dweebs opened up on him. That would be the end of the target, sure. It would also be the end of Stahl.
And Alois.
"No," he said. "I don't have any other choice."
Karen reached across the table and took both of his hands. "Then trust me, Ernst. Trust me and everything will work out just fine."
He nodded. It had better.
Everything depended on it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Hello, Frank."
He stepped off the elevator. It had taken him several long hours to work his way back to Moe's old joint after meeting with Stahl earlier.
Gia had changed clothes while he'd been out. She wore a dark navy pantsuit and a black turtleneck underneath. Sensible pumps adorned her feet.
Frank frowned. "You look dressed for a security detail. You planning on going somewhere?"
"We both are."
He stopped. "You kidding? We'll get picked off in no time out there. I just spent the last two hours making sure I was clean before heading back here. Last thing I want to do is go back outside before I have to."
"You have to."
Something about her voice made him wince. It sounded cold. Hollow. Not like the Gia he'd once known. So long ago.
"What's going on?"
Gia reached into her pocket and tossed him a small black billfold. Frank looked down and opened it. His heart sank and his blood ran cold when he saw the contents. And yet, somehow he'd known. Somewhere down deep, where he could deny the persistent instinct. Moe wouldn't be happy with him, that's for sure.
"Special Agent Gia Bounagario." He looked up. "FBI, huh?"
"Ten years."
Frank whistled. "All that time undercover?"
She shrugged. "A few cases, yeah. You were the deepest cover assignment I had, though."
"And when you walked out on me? What was all that - the mission over?"
"We couldn't pin anything on you, Frank. You're too clean. Too good, some of my colleagues said."
"Gee, thanks. Remind me to buy them a round when I see Ôem." He tossed the billfold back to her. "What about the relationship we had? Was that all crap, too?"
She looked at him. He thought there might be some part of her that would have softened the words she spoke next, if only to be kind.
She did not.
"It was bullshit, Frank. An act."
He smirked. Played a fool again. "You fake all your orgasms, too?"
"Our sexual history has nothing to do with the current situation."
"Humor me, you've been so scathing lately. Did you fake it or not? ÔCause, honestly, I could swear I made you climb the walls a few times."
The color rose in her face. She frowned. "We had some fun. Once or twice."
"Throw the dog a bone," Frank muttered. "What a lady."
"We're wasting time."
"I'm under arrest? On what charge?"
Gia moved a step closer. "Don't make me draw my gun on you, okay? It'd be a shame to move this to another level."
"I have work to do, Gia. You know that."
"What - against that German you keep seeing in your head?" She sighed. "I don't think anything is going to come of that."
"Something is. I had a meeting with him a few hours ago."
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh."
"Well, too bad. I've got to get your ass down to the office."
Frank shook his head. "I can't do that." He started to move and then stopped.
Click.
A cold metal barrel pressed into the soft spot beneath his left ear. A gruff male voice sounded too close. Frank cursed himself again.
"Do what the lady says, hotshot."
Frank kept everything still. "You know, a real professional wouldn't hold the gun on me this close."
"I can afford to," said the voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Because if you get stupid, the guy across the room will shoot you five times in the heart before you can even turn around."
Frank's eyes wandered to his right. A man swathed in black battle dress gear with a balaclava on his head was sighting down the length of his Heckler & Koch MP5SD. Frank could just make out the trigger selector had been set for tri-burst. If the man squeezed the trigger, three rounds would fire each time.
"You guys with HRT?"
"Hostage rescue doesn't handle this type of thing," said the voice. "We're with the FBI's new tactical unit. We handle the violent apprehensions."
Frank grinned. "Gia, you think I'm violent?"
She shrugged. "With your record? I'd be a fool to take you for anything else."
"Alleged record. I've never been indicted on anything."
"You've never even been to the police station before," said Gia. "You're that good."
"Shucks. My head's going to swell up."
Gia smiled. "That's the closest you'll come to getting a compliment out of me, so wear it well."
"I'll treasure it."
The gruff voice cleared his throat. "Can we move?"
&
nbsp; "You still haven't told me what I'm charged with," said Frank.
Gia brought out a sheet of paper. "Suspicion of multiple homicides including the recent death of Gino Patrisi, acknowledged boss of the Patrisi crime family."
"You can't hold me on suspicion."
"We can hold you for twenty-four hours," said Gia. "And you either play ball with us, or we'll simply let you go."
Frank eyed her. There was something more. He could feel it. She was playing it out for effect. He hated it for it.
"You play ball and turn state's evidence or we'll call your gun-toting friends and tell them we'll be letting you go from. And when you walk outside, you'll die. Plain and simple."
"Just like that. No trial. You'd be the executioner. Is that it?"
Gia nodded. "Cut and dry."
"ClichŽs don't become you." He frowned. "You know you're alive right now because I saved your life?"
"I'm alive right now because you failed to act. If that's what you mean, then yes, I acknowledge it. But don't expect me to praise you for it."
Frank nudged back the sour taste of bile tickling his throat. "I would have settled for a simple thank-you."
"You don't get one."
"You're a real bitch, Gia."
"Watch your language around my girl," said the voice next to him.
Frank smiled. That's why she'd blushed when he'd brought up the orgasm talk. "You and Gia, huh? That's nice. Cozy. Office mates and fuck buddies."
The metal barrel jabbed into his ear. "I mean it."
"You like hearing about how I used to fuck the living shit out of her? She was a real good piece of ass, this one. Tell me something: does she go down on you the way she used to on me?"
The air got still.
Gia walked forward. "We're done here."
The gun barrel prodded him and Frank turned with it, heading back into the elevator with Gia. Behind him, he knew the two troopers would be following.
Frank's mind raced. It was too close to do much in the elevator, but downstairs in the garage, there was a chance he could reverse things.
The door slid shut. Frank felt the drop echo through his stomach. He began breathing quicker, trying to flush more adrenaline into his bloodstream. He needed to be as galvanized as possible for when they reached the bottom.
He'd take out the guy with the gun barrel on him first. Even now he could feel it pressed into his kidney. He'd have to spin fast, get the gun and then drop the trooper.
Then he'd deal with Gia.
The irony of his situation killed him. If he'd simply taken Gia out when he'd been told to, this entire mess could be avoided. Then he'd be able to concentrate solely on Stahl.
But no, he'd gone and fucked it all up. All for love. All for some silly ideal that he'd never had much luck embracing. And even still, he desperately wanted it.
"Tell me something, Gia."
"What?"
"What were you doing down at that office building the other day. I mean, if you weren't working me any more, why were you still there keeping up appearances for your cover job?"
"Would you believe I stumbled on to something new?"
"And here I thought you were just trying to stay close to me."
"Don't flatter yourself."
He smiled and kept breathing. The elevator engine slowed.
This was it.
The doors slid back on their runners. The gun barrel prodded Frank out of the car and into the garage.
Frank could smell the exhaust from his Explorer. There was scent of motor oil heavy in the air. He could almost taste it.
He heart raced.
Behind him he could sense the troopers exiting the car. Gun barrel was close behind him.
Now, while they were still bunched up-
"Frank."
He stopped. "What?"
"Before you try anything dumb, you should look around you."
He did.
In the shadows. There. And there.
His heart sank.
That's why they'd only used two men upstairs.
The rest were down here.
Waiting.
They'd radioed up when Frank had come into the garage.
The perfect ambush.
And I walked right into it, he thought.
Sorry, Moe.
Chapter Thirty-Four
After dinner, Stahl made his way over to the target building. He'd applied the latex and makeup in the restroom at a gas station on Memorial Drive. It look slipshod but he knew the disguise would work. This late at night, the guards would be half asleep already, anyway.
Sure enough, within two hours, he was done scouting the location. Satisfied he could take out the target without any real drama, Stahl caught a cab back to Copley Square and then walked back to his hotel.
Inside his room, he washed the makeup off and then called Germany. The nurses seemed adamant that Alois not be disturbed, but Stahl didn't care. It had been too long since they'd spoken and he felt his son would get more from a phone call than he would a few extra minutes of sleep.
Hearing Alois' voice made his heart ache.
"Papa?"
"Hello son."
"Are you coming home?"
"Soon. Another day or two and then I'll be on my way home."
"I'm tired Papa."
The damned disease. It robbed the young boy of his strength - his will to fight - to live even.
"You stay strong Alois. I'll be there with you soon. And we'll get you better when I get home."
"Promise?"
"Absolutely."
"I miss you."
Stahl felt his eyes go hot. His throat felt like a snake had wrapped it self around and was squeezing its coils tighter with each breath. "I miss you, too." It came out as a croak, but Stahl was glad he could even get the words out.
"When you come home, will you take me to the zoo?"
Stahl smiled around the stinging in his eyes. Alois had always loved the zoo. He could remember the first time they'd visited and Alois spent the entire time trying to get the lions to roar by making growl noises through the bars of the cat pit. His effort had finally been rewarded with a lazy yawn from the biggest cat, but Alois felt his hard work had paid off and spent the rest of the week telling everyone how he'd managed to get the lion to yawn.
"Yes, we'll got to the zoo. And the aquarium as well, if you like. I heard they have some new sharks there in the main tank."
Alois giggled on the phone and Stahl found himself smiling and laughing as well. As many dangerous situations as he'd gone through in his past, as many times as he'd come close to death, as much destruction as he'd seen - none of it came close to matching the terror, fear, anger, sorrow, and heartbreak he felt every time he thought about his poor son laying in the cold hospital bed hoping that he'd be able to get the life-saving transplant.
"I like the sharks."
"I know you do." Alois' two passions growing up had been dinosaurs and sharks. He'd started drawing his dinosaurs early on and had the unusual habit of putting hats on them and giving them briefcases - as if they were about to head off to work. Their refrigerator at the home had pictures all over it, held in place with shark magnets.
"Come home soon, papa."
"As soon as I'm able. You get some sleep now. Rest. Be strong. All right?"
"All right."
"I love you, son."
"I love you, too, Papa."
Stahl let this arm go limp and the receiver dropped back into the base of the phone. His shoulders heaved once and he let out a big rush of air.
Stahl didn't necessarily believe in karma, but deep down inside of him, he couldn't help but feel that maybe his past actions had brought him to this very difficult point in his life.
If he had given philosophy any thought, he would have imagined that his past actions would somehow come back to give him the pain and suffering he'd inflicted upon others. He didn't think fate would curse his only son. He was innocent after all.
; He sighed.
A lot of innocent people had died at his hands as well.
He shook his head and wandered into the bathroom. The cold water he splashed on his face helped snap him back and wash away the salty brine on his face.
But his heart still ached.
He padded over to the window and looked out over the city. Somewhere out there, Frank was plotting his death.
Why did the American have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he simply be content to take a spectator position on this one? Stahl hadn't done anything to him. And surely he could understand the grief Stahl was going through.
It's my son for God's sake!
He thought again about the innocents. He thought about the mission. If he completed it, there'd be many more innocent deaths. Did that make it the right thing to do? Did it make it okay if he was doing it for Alois? Did their deaths justify saving his son?
Frank obviously didn't think so.
Where is he, wondered Stahl.
For some reason, his head hadn't ached much since they'd met. Had the link ended? Could they even see each other any more?
Stahl lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he and Karen would construct the bomb that would kill the target.
But for right now?
Sleep.
The American.
Stahl frowned. Something told him to relax and he did so, letting his body slump deeper into the comforter. He saw the black behind his eyelids and breathed slower, willing his lungs and heart to decrease in speed.
He could feel his muscles start to slacken. He felt all the stress from the day, from the phone call overseas, all of it began to seep out of his body, bleeding into the bed beneath him.
Small tingles began at his feet and crept up the length of his body until every aspect of his being seemed to buzz.
This is new, he thought vaguely.
He rode the sensations, wondering where they'd take him.
The blackness behind his eyes dissipated. He could see a gray fog slowly start to become transparent. Images started swimming in front of his eyes. They looked like they'd been melted. There was no form to them.
At first.
Gradually they began to solidify.
Sharpen.
He could see things now.
And it was like he was there.
He saw Frank.