“He never comes near this section of the facility. He keeps to his office on the other side. The man is just a negotiator for the organization.”
“What organization?”
“The organization behind this operation. I just know it as ‘the organization.’ Look, Cooper, you need to go now. Before it’s too late.” Pembury cracked the door and peered into the corridor. “It’s clear. Go and get the woman. Wait in the room until I set off the diversion.”
“What diversion?”
“You’ll know when it happens.”
The physician described the route that would lead Bolan to the main exit.
The soldier followed him out of the room, carrying the shotgun, and bolted the door behind him. He followed Pembury to the door the man indicated. Bolts at top and bottom secured it. Pembury left Bolan as he freed the bolts, reaching the far end of the corridor and vanishing around the bend. Bolan eased the door open.
Laura Devon was sitting on the edge of the bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. She raised her head.
“Matt! I’ve been imagining all kinds of things.”
“You probably weren’t far off the mark.”
She went to him and put her arms around him. “What have they been doing to you?”
“I’ll fill you in when we get out of this place.”
“How are we going to do that?”
Before Bolan could answer, an ear-splitting alarm went off. The high clamor penetrated into the room. Pembury’s diversion. He had set off the hazard alarm.
“Come on,” Bolan said.
He pulled her behind him, out of the room and along the corridor. Bolan guessed the alarm would be issuing from the lab area, somewhere at the other end of the building.
They were partway along the corridor when a man stepped into view from the intersection ahead. He nodded in Bolan’s direction and was moving on when he realized who he was looking at. The guy reached for the rifle slung from his shoulder, his chest heaving as he built up to yell a warning.
Bolan drew down with the shotgun, pulling back on the trigger and hitting the guy in the body. The spreading pattern still had enough kinetic energy to shred flesh and internal organs. The guy flew back, slamming against the wall behind him. He bounced forward, slamming facedown on the floor.
“Let’s go,” Bolan snapped, the harshness in his tone having the desired effect on his companion.
At the intersection Bolan steered them right, and the short corridor opened into the half-circular entrance area. The main doors were ahead. Moving forward, Bolan pushed open one of the doors, and then he and Devon were outside. It was already full dark, indicating just how long the pair had been inside the facility.
Bolan heard clattering footsteps inside the building. He swung around as an armed man burst through the open door and fired his SMG. The slugs flew into the shrubbery inches away, leaves and branches cascading to the ground.
As the guy prepared to fire again, Bolan triggered the shotgun and hammered the area with a trio of shots. The hail of pellets pounded the target’s body, driving him back through the open door. Bolan heard the shotgun click on an empty chamber when he went to fire again. He let the weapon drop to the ground.
The harsh sound of the alarm followed Bolan and Devon as they crossed the parking area. Light from the main building spilled out across the darkness. In the glare of light Bolan saw the rain still slanting down out of the cloudy sky. They were also able to see the half-dozen vehicles parked close by. Bolan chose the closest, one of the big SUVs. He tried the door and found it unlocked. He slid onto the seat and checked that the vehicle was in neutral, put his foot on the brake pedal and pressed the start button. The powerful 3.6-liter V6 engine picked up instantly.
As Devon slid into the passenger seat, Bolan freed the brake, hit the gas and accelerated away from there. He flicked on the headlights, and the twin beams picked out the gap in the weed-choked chain-link fence where the gates had originally been. As he cleared the fence, Bolan saw the narrow strip of road that wound away from the facility and into the dark shroud of the dense forest.
He handed the paper Pembury had given him to Devon. “What does it say?”
“Oh, it’s the zip code for a hotel in Seattle. A time and tomorrow’s date. Very intriguing but what does it mean?”
“It means we need to get there before a deal goes down put together by a guy named Rackham. If we don’t, one of Rackham’s men sells a virus sample to a North Korean buyer and negotiates for a larger supply being made right now.”
“Are you serious? Is that what all this is about?”
“Rackham has been developing the virus to sell to interested clients. It’s a biological weapon a North Korean group wants to get its hands on. The deal is going down at that hotel tomorrow.”
“God. Matt, is this for real?”
“As real as it can get.”
“What is wrong with these people? They must be sick.” She thought about it. “Can you stop this deal?”
“I’m going to try.”
“Okay, Matt. Whatever you say.”
“We’ve got until the middle of tomorrow morning.”
“We can get to the city in plenty of time.”
“Right now I need you to do the driving again. They’ve been pumping stuff into me and I think it’s starting to work.”
“What stuff?”
“Some kind of drug that was supposed to make me spill everything I know.”
“So everything you’re telling me now is genuine?”
“Laura, would I lie to you?”
Bolan pulled over, and he and Devon changed seats. She took the wheel and they moved off again.
Bolan leaned back in the leather seat. Now that he had stopped moving around, Pembury’s injections were taking effect.
“Laura, tap that zip code into the GPS and head for the location.”
She leaned forward and entered the code. The GPS adjusted the screen image and the quiet tones of the audio guide told them they were on the right road.
“Matt, do you think Rackham will send anyone after us?”
Bolan rolled his head to attempt to clear the fog from his mind.
“Good question,” he said. “I haven’t any idea. He may be in the dark over the information Pembury gave me and cut his losses. Pembury told me Rackham is working to a deadline on this virus, so that could be his priority.”
“Well, that hasn’t cleared any doubts I might have had. By the way, are we armed again?”
“One SIG Sauer with a full magazine.”
“Matt, you do like to shave the odds in your favor.”
His response was slow and quiet. Devon glanced at him and saw he had drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
She hit the headlight full beam, illuminating the narrow forest road, and put her foot down as hard as she dared. She would feel safer once they hit the main highway. There would be more traffic and that would make it less likely they would be spotted.
Or not, she admitted.
She had come to realize the people they were up against were resourceful and violent. If they were still determined to get their hands on Cooper again, they might send someone out to find them.
In her eyes Cooper was one hell of a survivor. He knew how to handle himself, and anything Rackham sent their way would be met with hard resistance. Yet there was no guarantee Cooper could resist forever. He was human after all. A special kind, but still human.
When Devon spotted a diner on the main highway, she coasted into the lot and made her way inside, leaving her companion while she bought a couple of large take-out coffees. She gently woke the man and handed him one of the coffees. She turned the SUV back onto the highway and they picked up their route. She drove one-handed, sipping the hot cof
fee. Beside her, Cooper stared out through the rain-spattered windshield. He drank, remaining silent, and it was as if she could hear the thoughts tumbling around in his mind. He was trying to remember, the expression on his face telling her he wasn’t succeeding.
Devon drove nonstop until fatigue began to have an effect on her, as well. She finally had to give in a few miles from the city and drove into the parking lot of the first roadside motel she saw.
She got them a room, drove to the parking spot in front of it and they went inside. Bolan eyed the bed as if it was a new invention and fell across it, his eyes closing almost immediately.
When Devon gently woke him a little while later, it was to offer him hot coffee and take-out food she had purchased from a store just down the road from the motel.
They wolfed down the food and drank the coffee without exchanging a word. When they were finished, Bolan made for the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went. He stood under the shower and lathered his aching, battered body until he was satisfied he couldn’t improve on his condition any longer. With a towel around his waist he exited the bathroom. Devon had picked up his clothing and folded it. She studied him closely.
“How many times did that man inject you?”
“Two, maybe three times.”
“What were they after? State secrets?”
“Rackham was running scared I might have figured what he was up to and wanted to know if I’d passed it on. Me being in partnership with Bremner and all. Or so he thought.” Bolan managed a slow smile. “He didn’t realize I can barely remember the time of day.”
“It didn’t stop him trying.”
Bolan sat on the edge of the bed as Devon handed him a pack of adhesive bandages. “For your hip,” she said. “Now I am going for a shower.”
When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a large towel, she saw Bolan had slipped under the covers. She finished drying herself, turned down the lights and climbed into the bed, dropping the towel on the floor. Bolan barely stirred when she pressed against him, and she couldn’t hold back a sigh.
Laura, my girl, he is either totally exhausted, or you have entirely lost it, Devon thought.
She decided she preferred the first option.
* * *
IT WAS A HALF HOUR BEFORE the meeting when Laura Devon eased into a parking spot just down the street from the Seattle hotel. While she fed the meter, Bolan sat and checked the area. He saw nothing to arouse his suspicions. He turned his attention to the hotel, which seemed to be fairly quiet, as he would have expected at that time of day.
Bolan stepped out of the SUV. As he made his way toward the hotel, he closed his sport coat over the SIG Sauer tucked behind his belt. They had stopped at a shopping mall on the way in and Devon had used her credit card to purchase the jacket for him.
Devon climbed back into the SUV and sat behind the wheel. She had wanted to go with him, but this time Bolan insisted she wait in the vehicle.
“Hey, you be safe,” she said.
“It’s my middle name.”
She forced a smile. “Oh, sure.”
Bolan walked back to the hotel and across the parking area. He went up to the entrance, the door sliding open automatically.
The wide, open lobby spread out in front of him. The check-in was to his left, staffed by a pair of young women, busy at computer terminals. Directly ahead he saw the tables and chairs fronting the bar area. Muzak played quietly from hidden speakers. Bolan made his way to the bar and caught the attention of the bartender. The bow-tied barman took his order for a fruit juice. The soldier paid and took the drink with him to one of the tables. From his vantage point he was able to observe the two elevators serving the floors.
Now all he could do was wait. Callum wasn’t due for another twenty minutes if he was sticking to the schedule Pembury had outlined. Bolan took his time with the juice.
As he watched hotel staff moving around, guests entering and leaving, Bolan allowed his thoughts to meander through the events of the past couple of days. The only fact clear in Bolan’s mind was why Callum was coming to the hotel. The man was involved in Rackham’s deal. There was no confusion with that.
Pembury’s description of Callum made it easy for Bolan to recognize the man as he stepped inside the lobby and made his way across to the check-in desk. Callum was in his early forties, with a stocky physique. He had a thick mustache. In his left hand he carried a medium-size black case that resembled a sample case. The young woman at the desk spoke with him, then picked up a phone and made a call. She passed information to Callum. He nodded and turned toward the elevators on the far side of the lobby.
Callum was showing little sign of being wary. Bolan’s escape from the facility didn’t appear to have changed the setup. He could only assume Rackham had allowed the deal to go through and hadn’t considered Bolan knew about it. That could have been down to Pembury not having revealed what he had told Bolan. It was all guesswork, but the soldier had no other choice. His only option was to keep following Callum and take alternative action if things changed.
Bolan unhurriedly followed the man. Callum stood with a couple of people at one of the elevator doors, waiting for it to arrive. Bolan casually joined the small group, positioning himself behind the man.
When the doors opened five people stepped out. Bolan, standing to the rear of the small group, followed as they stepped into the elevator. He moved to the rear of the car, still behind Callum. The elevator rose to the second floor and Callum edged his way out, Bolan following.
Callum turned left.
Bolan went right.
The corridor Bolan took angled around a corner after a few yards. He took the corner, then flattened against the wall and peered back. Callum was still moving along his section of the corridor. Bolan saw him stop at a door and rap on the panel. The door opened and Callum stepped inside. Bolan retraced his steps, passing the elevator doors, and continued along until he was outside the door that had opened for Callum.
Bolan loosened his jacket around the handgun.
He needed to be inside the room. Logic told him Callum would be passing the contents of his case to whoever was inside. If Pembury’s information was correct, that case couldn’t be allowed to leave the hotel.
Bolan picked up the subdued murmur of voices from inside the room. Then he sensed one of the voices increasing in volume as someone neared the door. Bolan put his hand on the SIG Sauer. He moved to the side as the door opened and Callum stepped into view—minus the sample case, but now carrying a slim attaché case.
Bolan’s left hand flattened against Callum’s chest. He pushed the startled man back inside the room, following close. The door swung shut, Bolan pressing against it, his hand producing the SIG Sauer.
“Don’t rush off on my account, Callum,” Bolan said. “Now back up.”
Over Callum’s shoulder Bolan saw a slight Asian man looking up from the case that sat on the king-size bed. When he saw the gun in Bolan’s hand, he stepped away from the side of the bed, hands half raised.
“Who the hell are you?” Callum said angrily.
“Not room service, that’s for sure,” Bolan replied.
Callum stiffened, his face flushing with anger. “I thought...”
“Thought you were safe? Sorry to disappoint you, Callum.” Bolan saw the rising eyebrows. He took the attaché case from the man and tossed it on the bed. “I know who you are. Looks to me like Rackham isn’t so smart after all. Now move over there. Hands on your head where I can see them.”
Callum did as he was told, realizing he had no other option. Bolan pressed the muzzle against the side of Callum’s head while his left hand patted the man down. He located a solid shape in a pocket. Reaching in, Bolan grabbed and removed a pistol. He slid it behind his belt.
Bolan turned his attention to the other guy. T
he Asian hadn’t moved. His eyes were fixed on Bolan. Not wavering. Simply staring. Assessing.
“Choson’gŭl,” Bolan said in North Korean.
The man inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I suspect only a few Americans would know that.” Then he allowed a thin smile to show. “Know your enemy?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” Bolan said. “Open your jacket and toss your gun on the bed, then turn around.” The man obeyed. Bolan’s visual inspection revealed no other weapon. “Both hands in your pants pockets.”
Again the man did as he was told.
“You realize who you are up against?” Callum said.
“If you mean Rackham, I’ll take my chances.”
“You can’t interfere,” Callum said. “This is...”
Bolan stepped up to the bed and snapped open the catches on the attaché case. He raised the lid and saw a three-inch glass vial nestling in the soft sponge protection. It was filled with a slightly milky viscous liquid. Next to it was a slim flash drive; the video evidence of the virus trial.
“For God’s sake don’t damage it,” Callum protested. His voice had cracked, and he was sweating in sheer panic.
Ignoring the pistol in Bolan’s hand, he retreated to the farthest corner of the room.
“Not perfume samples, then?” Bolan said. “You want to explain, Callum? Or why doesn’t your North Korean buddy.”
“Kim Jeung Pak is my name,” the Korean said. “And I am not his buddy.”
Bolan snapped the attaché case shut and moved it off the bed. He placed it on the floor.
“Business associate, I guess. You on your own, Kim Jeung Pak? Or do you have a reserve team in the hotel?”
Pak smiled. “It is not for me to tell,” he said. “But if you expect to leave here without problems, then not knowing could make things difficult for you.”
Bolan shrugged. “I understand difficult.”
“So how do we proceed from here?”
“Listen to me, Kim,” Callum said. “This man is out on his own. I believe he was being held at the facility but must have gotten away.”
“Remind me to ask Pembury to pump you full of something to close your damn mouth,” Bolan said.
Viral Siege Page 8