Janson’s insides twisted into knots. She had seen wounds like these before—had received similar wounds. “Who did this to you?” she barked.
They didn’t respond, so she knelt, grabbed the man without hands by the neck, and repeated the question.
“I—I don’t know.” He stared in horror at the mutilated tissue hanging from his wrists. “There was…fog, and then…shit, lady, my hands! Can’t you see my hands?”
She shoved him aside and stood. She blinked once, then twice, trying to adjust her optical sensors. Finally, the world shifted to shades of blue, green, and orange. Whipping her head back and forth, she searched the crowds for anyone moving away. There was a flash of movement and color—a bulky man skirting past the patrons of an outdoor bar. She blinked again, and he was gone.
It’s him, she thought. She blinked again to confirm her suspicions. The man was only visible in the infrared spectrum. Her mind reeled with questions. How could he have known where the attack would take place? What were the odds that Eugene could have found the terrorists before the attack started?
She shook her head. There was only one explanation: Eugene was working with Jarrod Hawkins behind her back.
The man without hands had gone silent. She glanced down and saw him holding the bottle of herbicide with his legs, trying to twist a knob on the side with his stump arms.
She grasped his shoulder and lifted him off the ground so his feet dangled near her knees. “Where are the rest of your people?”
The man flailed in her grip. “What the hell? Put me down, freak!”
“I know you’re with Katharos. Who else is involved in the attack?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m—I’m on the landscaping crew.”
She held him up with one hand and grasped his testicles with the other. “I can crush a man’s skull with my bare hands. What do you think will happen to your balls when I start to squeeze?”
He winced and tried to hit her with his knee, but to no avail. “You’re a freakin’ psycho. I don’t know what—” He stopped short and began to scream as Janson clamped down.
“On second thought, maybe I should just rip them off. They aren’t going to do you any good, where you’re going.” She squeezed tighter then dropped the man on a fern. She didn’t really expect him to talk, but she hoped his screams would loosen his partner’s tongue.
“How about you?” she asked, stepping on the other man’s ankle and shifting her weight onto it. “Are you getting your balls ripped off, or are you going to cooperate?”
“We’re alone. I swear, we’re alone!”
Janson glanced at Rainbow Tower. “You hear that? He claims they’re alone. But I’m not sure if I believe him—you want me to keep turning the screws?”
Eugene’s voice came through her earpiece. “Not here. Too many cameras. Meet me out front and bring them with you. The FBI will handle the bio-weapon.”
“Roger that.” She lifted both men by their shirts and dropped them onto her shoulders. Walking quickly, she made her way toward the street beyond the resort, leaving a trail of blood behind.
The Katharos agents would have their wounds treated before being delivered to a CIA interrogation team; it was best to leave the questioning to the experts. But when she returned to Hillcrest, she would be performing an interrogation of her own.
13
Seneca Falls, New York
“How? How the hell did they know?” She shouted the words at Lukas Woodfall, who was looking particularly smug as he took a bite of Caesar salad.
“Perhaps,” he said, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin, “your troops are beginning to question the wisdom of your orders. Word spreads quickly, you know, and I’m sure some of our men in the field have discovered what you did to our agents in Philadelphia. Not to mention our man in New Orleans.”
She shook her head. “I know how to compartmentalize, Lukas. None of our agents have any way of contacting each other.”
“Then perhaps the men in Hawaii turned against you before carrying out the attack.”
The muscles in her jaw flexed. It was a possibility she didn’t want to consider. “These weren’t a couple of bums we hired off the street. They were deep-cover field agents, waiting for this specific mission. They’ve been with Katharos for years.”
“I’m not sure what to tell you.” He chewed another forkful of salad then leaned back in his chair. “If our men in the field did not defect, then it means the American’s thwarted the attack on their own, and they will stop the remaining attacks as well.”
Audrey clenched and unclenched her fists. She studied Lukas for a long moment. “This isn’t pessimism. You’re happy the attack in Waikiki failed. Why?”
Lukas set his fork aside and steepled his fingers. “I never agreed with your plan. We share a common goal, yes, but I don’t believe you are pursuing it correctly. We need more time to modify the contagions. All of the contagions.” He shook his head. “If you keep charging around like a bull with its eyes cut out, my life’s work will have been for nothing.”
She gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward. “These attacks are going to happen, one way or another. If we need to reschedule the next attack, so be it.”
“And how are you planning to communicate this to our men in Atlanta? Make a phone call? Send an e-mail? The government will know, and there will be armed men knocking down our door an hour later.”
“I’ll tell them myself.”
Lukas raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to drive to Atlanta?”
“That’s right. I’ll gather as many of our agents as I can along the way, and when I get to Atlanta, I’ll make sure the attack succeeds. Once the city is brought to its knees by infection, we’ll release the C-Virus.”
Lukas averted his eyes.
Audrey glared at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He folded his hands on his lap and smiled. “Enjoy your trip.”
14
September 28th
Hillcrest Trauma and Rehabilitation Center
Baltimore, Maryland
It was mid-morning when the team arrived back in Baltimore. Which was a good thing, in Janson’s mind, because San would be in his office. And she wouldn’t rest until she found out how much he knew.
She hadn’t confronted Eugene about what she had seen in Waikiki—she was hoping he would confess on his own. He didn’t. Instead, he avoided her and spent the entire flight lounging in a hammock he’d attached to a shipping container. He hadn’t spoken to her at all until they arrived at the loading bay in Hillcrest.
“We’ll debrief with San in thirty minutes,” he said, taking wide steps down the hallway. “Sub-Level One.”
Janson nodded, though she didn’t plan on waiting that long. She rode the elevator down to Sub-Level Two, waited for Eugene to get off, then returned to Sub-Level One. She approached a security terminal embedded in the wall and tapped the screen. “Where is Director Torres?”
The computer scanned her voice signature to make sure she had the authorization to know San’s whereabouts then displayed a map on the screen. He was on the same level as she was, in his main office.
She pivoted and marched forward, fighting the urge to break into a run. Seconds later, she reached the steel door and was about to knock when it slid open on its own.
“Welcome back, Agent Janson,” San said in his usual, amicable voice. He rose from behind his desk and extended his hand. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were able to stop the attack.”
She kept her arms by her sides, refusing to shake his hand. “Did you know?”
San frowned. “Did I know…what?”
Her throat tightened, and she struggled to keep her voice level. “Did you know Jarrod was in Hawaii?”
San’s eyes widened, and his lips began to twitch. He was at a loss for words, but his face told Janson everything she needed to know.
“How could you?” The temptation to strike him welled up ins
ide her, and she had to take a step back. “How could you lie to me? About him?”
He stared down at his shoes. “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I’m certain the reasons I gave myself will sound hollow to you, so I’ll spare you my excuses. It pained me to lie to you, Janson, and I’m sorry.”
She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I expected this from Eugene, but not from you. You were supposed to be better than this, San. They canned Daron for lying to us, and now you’re doing the same damn thing.”
“I know.”
She began to pace as she stormed on. “Jarrod has wounded and killed our people. He killed—” She bit her lip as tears welled up around her artificial eyes. “He killed Clint. And you brought him here?”
“He needs help, Janson. And so do we. Katharos has weapons of mass destruction and the will to use them. We need to mobilize every asset we have. Jarrod could save hundreds of lives. Maybe thousands. Maybe millions”
She scoffed. “Or he could kill every single one of us.”
“You know him better than that. He’s no danger to us unless we threaten him.”
“Really? Why don’t you tell that to Clint?”
San turned away for a moment and wiped his face with his hands. When he turned back, there was fire in his brown eyes. “Clint? Clint learned the hard way. He threatened Jarrod in a way none of us would even dream of.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Jarrod is as much machine as he is man. He isn’t afraid of guns, or drones, or cyborgs, or even you. But he does fear.” San took a deep breath. “He fears for the life of his sister. And whether you like it or not, Ford threatened Jarrod’s sister. And that’s why he’s dead.”
The room seemed to pull away from Janson. She swayed on her feet, not wanting to believe what she had heard. “You…you think Clint’s death was his own fault?”
“I’m saying Clint made a mistake, as did Jarrod.” He shook his head. “None of us are perfect. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll understand why I am willing to give Jarrod another chance.”
She took a half step back, and her chin dropped to her chest. After several seconds, she nodded and looked San in the eye. “You may be willing to give him another chance, but I’m not. And as long as he’s here, I won’t be.”
“Janson—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “Just…don’t.” She stepped through the door and broke into a run. Hillcrest had taken so much from her and given her little in return. It was time for a change. Time to break the chains holding her back.
She rode the elevator toward the surface—toward a new life. She wasn’t strong enough to face Jarrod. Not yet. But she would be soon.
Eugene drummed his fingers against the table, checked his watch, and glanced at the door. It wasn’t like Janson to be late. Or San, for that matter.
He took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling. Patience had always been one of his strengths, but today was different. Janson had discovered his secret, and it was tearing him up inside. He’d wanted to tell her everything on the plane, but he needed San’s authorization, first.
This debriefing was his chance to come clean—to apologize to the woman who had saved his life more times than he could remember. He wanted to explain himself, to share his own experiences with friendly-fire, and walk beside her on the road to recovery.
The door slid open, and Eugene jumped to his feet. San stepped into the room and looked at him through puffy red eyes.
Eugene didn’t speak right away. He leaned to the left, looking past San and into the hallway. When the door closed, he said, “Where’s Janson?”
“She’s…gone.” San placed a hand against his forehead. “She’s gone, and I don’t think she’s ever coming back.”
Eugene’s shoulders sagged. He glanced at the door, wishing she would change her mind and walk right in—give him a chance to explain. But the cold steel didn’t move. “Is there any way we can reach out to her? Track her down so we can talk?”
San shook his head. “She knows about Jarrod, and nothing we say will change the fact that we lied to her. I’ve tried calling her already, and she didn’t answer. I even had Operations try to trace her phone, but they couldn’t get a signal.”
Suddenly, the room felt small. Eugene took a breath, fighting through the tightness in his chest. “I’ll tell Eli what happened and have him call her tomorrow.” He gazed down at the concrete floor. “She likes him. And he’s never lied to her.”
San didn’t respond. He suddenly looked tired, as if he had been awake for days. Turning slowly, he said, “We can skip the debriefing for now. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
The door slid shut, and Eugene was alone. He circled the room, running a hand across the polished oak table. Memories of a dozen mission planning sessions flashed through his mind. He remembered cracking jokes at Ford’s expense, eliciting smiles from the other operatives. He remembered the way San listened to the mission briefing, even though he didn’t understand half of it. Now, the Hillcrest assault teams were all but decimated, and San was slowly becoming a shadow of his former self.
Though it was always a comfortable seventy degrees Fahrenheit in the underground complex, Eugene shivered. War changed everyone it touched, transforming good men and women into cold, spiteful machines. And he hated it, with all of his heart.
15
September 29th
Sykesville, Maryland
The high-pitched trill roused Eugene from a deep sleep. He squinted against the morning light filtering through the blinds and searched for the source of the noise. His hand closed around a phone on the nightstand, and he held it against his ear.
“Hello?”
There was no response. The sound was coming from his other phone.
Grumbling complaints under his breath, he tossed the comforter aside and rifled through the clothes scattered across the floor. He finally found the encrypted phone and typed in his passcode then hit the “answer” button.
“Sup?” He said, scratching absently at his naked chest.
“Where are you right now?” It was San’s voice.
Eugene grimaced and shot a glance at the bed, where San’s sister-in-law, Susana Espinosa, was still slumbering. “Uh…West.”
“West? That’s not very specific.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.”
There was a pause, then, “How soon can you get here?”
He glanced at his watch and made a quick calculation. “An hour, maybe less.”
“An hour? You’re not in the city?”
“Uh…nope.”
Susana rolled over in her sleep and let out a soft groan. Eugene winced and covered the mouthpiece with his hand as he hurried into the living room. “What’s the rush? Did something happen?”
“Yes.” San’s voice was growing more suspicious by the second. “Why are you being so evasive? Do I need to have Operations track your phone?”
Eugene’s eyes bulged. He hadn’t thought of that. “I’m not being evasive, you are. What happened that I need to rush in for?” He limped back into the bedroom and struggled to pull his jeans past the splint on his ankle. Finally, the denim slid into place, and he pulled a plain cotton shirt over his head.
“We’ve received information from our friends in the CIA. Some of it might be actionable, and I want you to take a look.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
San started to say something, but Eugene ended the call. He dropped onto the edge of the bed and pulled his socks on then leaned over to give Susana a kiss.
“What’s going on, Eugene? Who were you talking to?”
“I’ll give you one guess.” Eugene grabbed his pistol off the nightstand and tucked it into the holster concealed within his waistband. “I gotta go before he decides to track the GPS on my phone.”
She raised an eyebrow. “He can do that?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her one more time. “Love you, bye.”
“I love you,” she called after him. “Be safe!”
Eugene rushed into the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards. He unspooled an arm’s length of aluminum foil, set his phones in the center, and wrapped them up tight. He had no idea if it would prevent orbiting satellites from tracking his location, but it was worth a try.
He wasn’t afraid of San, exactly, but he didn’t want to suffer the man’s judgmental, withering stare, either.
Grabbing his jacket, he hurried into the cool morning air. He crossed the street and settled into his custom Datsun 240Z. He exhaled slowly as the engine roared to life. Cruising along in the classic sports car was one of his favorite past times, and he always looked forward to the commute to Hillcrest.
He glanced in his rearview mirror and watched Susana’s house fade into the morning mist. Though his visit had been shorter than he had hoped, he felt refreshed. She made him laugh, regardless of what he had been through, and she always listened with a sympathetic ear, no matter how horrifying the stories of his missions were.
She was proof there was still beauty in the world. And hope.
As he wheeled the Datsun through an intersection and picked up speed, his eyes darted to the compact glove box in front of the passenger’s seat. His cheeks warmed at the thought of what was inside—a diamond engagement ring.
It had been secreted away in the car for over a week. He wasn’t sure what held him back—he loved Susana, and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her—but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
In the opposite lane, a minivan passed by, ferrying a woman and her four children to an unknown destination. Maybe he was worried about dying on an Op and leaving her alone in the world. Or maybe it was something superficial—like the social pressure to date for more than a few months before tying the knot.
Heir to the Nightmare Page 7