“Who is it?” Dark asked.
“Delivery,” a female voice said. “I’ve got a box here for you.”
Dark checked the peephole in the door. There was a tall, slender woman in a courier uniform, dark hair tucked up under her cap, holding a brown box marked with the name of a diaper delivery service. Dark recognized the name; an analyst from Special Circs had set it up as a gift. The card had read: Just because you left us doesn’t mean you’re finished wading through shit.
“Hold on,” Dark said. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans, near the small of his back, then unlocked and opened the door.
“Steve Dark?” the woman asked.
“Yeah.”
“Can I bring these in? I’ve got something for you to sign.”
Before Dark had a chance to respond, the delivery woman took a computerized tablet from the top of the box and handed it to Dark.
Then she dropped the box of diapers on the floor, kicked the door shut behind her, and removed her cap. Her long brunette hair flowed down to her shoulders. She plucked a cell phone from her courier uniform before peeling it away with a single movement, revealing a business suit beneath. Within seconds she was completely transformed.
But by then, Dark was already pointing his Glock at her head.
“Take it easy,” she said. “I’m Brenda Condor from Child Services out of Washington.”
“What’s with the diapers?” Dark said.
“Would you have opened the door if I said I was from the federal government?”
Dark nodded. She had a point. If she had announced she was from the government, he might have shot through the door first before opening it.
“A car will be here for you in seven minutes,” she continued.
“I’ll be taking care of the infant while you’re away.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dark asked. “Where is it I’m going?”
Condor walked past Dark and into the apartment, making a beeline for the baby. She made it two steps before Dark pressed the Glock to the side of her head and kindly asked for her identification and credentials.
“You don’t need that gun anymore.”
“You don’t have to take another breath,” Dark said.
Dark watched her pupils dilate and her lovely blue eyes widen, and it distracted him just enough for her to disarm him with a move he’d never even seen before, let alone anticipated from her. Later he would blame it on lack of sleep. Instead of using his own gun on him, however, she fished inside her purse and handed her ID over, along with an open cell phone.
At first glance, the credentials looked legit. But Dark was reassured only when he heard the voice of Riggins on the other end of the line.
“Yeah, she’s the real thing,” Riggins said wearily. “Fuckin’ Wyckoff called me a few hours ago. I’m dealing with the same kind of shit out at my place. I should be enjoying a perfectly good hangover, but apparently we’re being pressed back into service.”
“Right.”
“See you in a few.”
Dark pressed END and looked at his new babysitter.
“You don’t have to worry,” Condor said as she handed over his gun. “I’ll take good care of her. I’ve been instructed to bring her to you wherever you are in the world—as long as it’s safe. Pack your shit. The DOD is four out.”
Dark walked to the wall and retrieved the yellow-dress photo.
“This is her mother. Make sure you show this photo to her a few times a day. It’s important to me.”
Condor took the photo, looked at it. If she had a response, she kept it to herself. She squeezed a two-way microphone inside of her blouse.
“Steve Dark, Code Four. Infant in possession. Over.”
chapter 106
Just minutes after Dark managed to transfer a few things from a cardboard box to an overnight bag, a long black limousine pulled up, bookended by two LAPD motorcycle cops. Lights were off. Two Department of Defense suits in sunglasses stepped out of the limo. His escorts.
Condor trailed him to the door, with Baby Sibby in her arms. The way she held the baby didn’t inspire much confidence in Dark. The woman looked like she’d be more at home patting and burping a submachine gun.
Dark set down his bag and took the baby, pressing her against his shoulder. He whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know if I’m much of a dad,” he said, “but I know one thing. I love you. And your mother loves you, too. Be a good girl, okay?”
Dark looked at Condor as he handed her back. “Take care of her, okay?”
“Your car is waiting.”
The limousine door opened at the curb.
Hours later he landed at Newark, where he changed planes. Riggins and Constance were already in the lounge area, overnight bags at their feet.
“So we meet again,” Riggins said, pressing his thumb between his eyes. “Oh, fuck, does my brain hurt.”
“Anyone know where we’re going?” Dark asked.
Constance shook her head. “I asked my lovely escort what to pack, and all he would tell me was business attire.”
“We’re going to Rome. And no, I don’t know why.”
chapter 107
Leonardo da Vinci Airport, Rome
The tires of their plane burned and smoked upon touch-down at Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Rome, Italy. It was night. After they’d taxied in a semicircle, Dark watched a boxy van marked POLIZIA, red lights blinking, park next to the outdoor stairway.
They weren’t five steps off of the aircraft when they were introduced to a man who presented himself as General Costanza and told them he was the leader of the Arma dei Carabinieri. Dark knew this meant military police. Several of his officers gathered around him like ducklings. One of them had a brown leather briefcase handcuffed to his beefy wrist.
“Hundreds are dead,” Costanza said in broken English. “Please step inside.”
The polizia van doors slammed shut behind them, and they peeled away from the airport.
Dark knew he was jet-lagged, and on top of that, sleep deprived, as is any new father. But did this man say hundreds?
Within thirty minutes they arrived at the largest baroque fountain in Rome. Orange crime-scene tape cordoned off the architectural masterpiece. Dark saw hundreds of people scattered in the street, crying and stepping over…sheets?
Yes, sheets. Over bodies.
Not all were covered, and Dark saw glimpses of decayed eyes, purple veins, bloated flesh. Dead open mouths caked with blood.
In the back of the van, Constance covered her mouth. Riggins sat expressionless, then shut his eyes. He was painfully sober now.
“What happened here?” Dark asked.
And now Costanza took the briefcase—still handcuffed to his assistant’s arm—and unlocked it. He lifted the lid, then spun it around so that Dark could see inside.
As he glanced inside, Dark’s heart nearly stopped. Just a few moments ago, the briefcase had been just that—an ordinary vessel containing papers, files, folders. But when Dark saw what was inside, everything took on an aura of pure evil that stole his breath.
“This can’t be happening,” he said finally.
Dark had thought Level 26 was nothing but a bad memory.
He was wrong.
To travel to Rome, log into LEVEL26.com and enter the code: zipper
acknowledgments
Anthony E. Zuiker would like to thank: First and foremost my wife, Jennifer. My muse. To the cast and crew of Level 26, thanks for supporting my directorial debut. I had a blast and a ton of laughs. To Orlin Dobreff, Jennifer Cooper, and Morgan Schmidt, you guys are my dream team. A very special thanks to Duane Swierczynski, Marc Ecko, Marc Fernandez, John Paine, Ben Satterfield, and Robert Kondrk. And a written apology to Margaret Riley, Kevin Yorn, and everyone on Team Zuiker for putting up with all of my disturbia. LOL! Brian Tart and Ben Sevier, that goes for you guys, too.:)
Duane Swierczynski would like to thank David Hale Smith, for showing him the way to Sq
weegel’s lair, Anthony Zuiker, for the thrilling and disturbing guided tour of the place, and Ben Sevier, for helping him scramble out with his soul intact (more or less). Also, huge thanks to his wife, son, and daughter, as well as the good people at Dutton and Dare to Pass, Inc., who were incredibly supportive throughout the writing of this novel.
level 26: dark origins
Starring Dan Buran as Steve Dark
Michael Ironside as Tom Riggins
Gle Morshower as Norman Wycoff
Bill Duke as Jack Mitchell
Kevin Weisman as Josh Banner
Daniel Browning Smith as Sqweegel
Tauvia Dawn as Sibby Dark
about the authors
ANTHONY E. ZUIKER is the creator and executive producer of the most-watched television show in the world, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, and a visionary business leader who speaks regularly about the future of entertainment. Zuiker lives in Las Vegas and Los Angeles.
DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI is the author of several thrillers, including Severance Package, which he’s currently adapting for the screen. He also writes the monthly X-Men series Cable for Marvel Comics, and has written other titles featuring Iron Fist, Punisher, and Wolverine. He lives in Philadelphia.
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