The Infected 3: Cast Iron

by P. S. Power

  Marcia grinned. At least she had good news to share there.

  “Nope. Brian is just fine. On vacation even, a real one, after a fashion, in Miami. Beach and picnics, all that. No, I need Sandra Barris’ contact information and was just wondering if you’d have that around? There’s… A situation going on here. On that I want to run by you.” Looking over her shoulder she walked away from the man near the door, Wilson. It was probably a fake name, but as good as any, she guessed.

  Holding her hand over the receiver so her lips couldn’t be seen easily, to prevent reading, she explained the whole thing quickly.

  “Three of the old crew, Weathers, Mic and Harpo are missing, some of their family members too. It’s hinky and really doesn’t feel right. Lancaster, Reyes and I are on it here, along with some others, but we’ve passed it on to the FBI, because it’s not in our jurisdiction. Now a guy is showing up and claiming Sandra sent him. He was here last night too and had ID saying he was someone other than the name he’s given us and had no fingerprints on file anywhere. Cellophane took his wallet for us.”

  There was silence for a time from the device, but she could make out breathing, so gave Conroy the time he needed.

  “OK. I’ll be there in… Sixteen hours. They were my crew, I owe them that. Besides, it will let me chat with you and the others. Maybe arrange a desert survival class with Yi? Cellophane… That’s Penny? The girl that can’t be seen? We should get her in on it too. Sounds like she needs to be ready to go it alone at almost any time, since people can just forget about her and all that.”

  Marcia shook her head. He’d always been good about knowing things like that.

  “That’s the one. I… Really, you don’t need to come. Like I said, we’re out of it for now. The only one who knows anything is Cal Morris and he took off last night. He brought us in, but he hinted he was forced to. I mean…” This was the hard part. It always was.

  “Well, I’d like to see you, if you want to take a pleasure trip? You can crash in our room. I’m with Penny and a few others. Don’t worry; we can make Bridget Chambers sleep on the floor, so it won’t be that bad. She’s young and limber enough for it. If you want to visit, I mean.” She sounded about fourteen suddenly, awkward and like she was asking a boy to a dance.

  “Be right there then. Oh, first… That info you needed? Let’s see… Bandon… Barris… Here you go.” She heard typing in the background.

  A few minutes later he got off the phone so she could dial the needed number before she forgot it. It wasn’t the kind of thing you wrote down after all.

  That led to an instant call to Barris, who answered on the first ring, her voice tense and old sounding. Then the woman had to be pushing sixty and had been a chronic smoker for years.

  “What?” She snapped, sounding grumpy and a little drunk. That part was out of the ordinary, since it should still be a work day as far as Marcia knew.

  “This is Turner. There’s a man here, calling himself Wilson? Said that I should confirm him being here with you? Know anything about it?” If not she’d just blitz the guy and take him down before he could try anything. She couldn’t be hurt, unless he had a significant mental talent of some kind, but her friends could. A stray bullet would pulp Tobin’s head for instance. The same with Denis. She wasn’t sure Brian wouldn’t manage to dodge somehow, but she couldn’t ensure he would either.

  It was funny, but of the people there, those were the ones she thought of first. Karen came in after that, then everyone else sort of tying up for last place. She almost felt a little bad for leaving Bridget out, but the kid could be annoying. Plus, realistically speaking, she could soak a few bullets to the head and not even be bruised the next day.

  Sandra laughed.

  “Fuck yes. I’ve been about ready to wet myself over the whole situation. This is fubar girl. Wilson, stands about six-one, average looks. Slightly balding and medium build?” It was one way to check a person out, or had been before camera phones.

  “Sounds right. Is he working in house or is this off the books?”

  “This is just an inquiry. In house and above board. An investigation into some of our own people, so legal.” She didn’t have to explain that the CIA wasn’t normally allowed to operate in country. Not only did everyone know that already, but Marcia had lived it for years.

  What she said meant a lot though, since one of the only times they were allowed to act on U.S. soil was when they were watching their own people. They only did that when they were suspecting one of theirs had turned to spying for a foreign power.

  That or if they were looking into an insurrection of some kind that started within their own ranks. It wasn’t exactly advertized, but it had happened twice in the last forty years that she knew of. Once when Nixon was in power. Later with Clinton. It had worked the first time; luckily power had stayed with the government as it existed, except the POTUS. The second time it happened had been a real coup attempt and that had gotten the IPB involved. It had ended with twenty-seven high ranking military and government officials being taken out and shot. The press reported it as a bunch of unrelated accidents. Plane crashes, car wrecks and in one case a man being trampled by a horse.

  She’ led that mission herself. She’d been the horse.

  “I… see. Possibly at least. What level of confidence do you have in Wilson here?” It was just possible that she’d been put up to sending the man, possibly with a gun to her head. If that was the case, she’d say that Wilson was top notch. Not good or solid, but using those specific words. Top notch. It meant not to trust the person in front of her, an old code, but one they’d used the whole time they’d worked together.

  “He’s one of the best. Trustworthy, noble and brave, all that. Don’t gamble with him, but other than that, not too bad at all. My replacement, as soon as I can get the paperwork around. Jumping ship before it sinks.” It was a bad joke, but one that almost everyone used when they left the company.

  Like they were all a bunch of rats, scurrying for safety, knowing that there really wasn’t any.

  “OK. Well, we should get together sometime and rehash old times and all that. Talk to you later?” Marcia knew that wasn’t going to happen. She trusted Sandra for the most part, as much as you could a spook, but she’d never really liked her much.

  “Only if you get down to Tahiti.” The line went dead without more being said. Hopefully she’d just hung up.

  She gestured to Wilson who’d been standing by for nearly twenty minutes while she called people. It was a hazard of just showing up like he had. With her at least. Taking a person at their word just wasn’t something she did easily anymore. That had stopped when she found out her parents had lied to her about Santa. Since then it had all been about verifying what people said.

  “You seem to check out so far. Talk here, or do you want to wait? I’m on duty, watching the back exit. You know, terrorists and people trying to poison the food. Sounds silly and is, but that second one has already happened once today. Apparently food shows have rivals.”

  The man looked toward the front.

  “Don’t we all? Here’s fine though. It won’t take long. We need you to do a job for us. Off the books. We need a man you know watched. Cal Morris? He’s been in touch with, let’s call them certain individuals with an ax to grind? Some of them are connected. Or, more accurately, some are connected to us. The CIA. All of them have high level clearance. We’re thinking it’s about removing Lawrence from office. Certain members of the military and other areas seem to feel that they’d be better served by someone else being in place. Going for assassination this time, if the chatter is accurate.” He kept scanning the back of the set and spoke in low tones so they wouldn’t carry.

  Marcia was still pretty sure there were three or four people out front that could hear everything they were saying. If Chris was back she could read the man’s mind, which would be a good thing, as far as Marcia was concerned. After all, having too little information almost never helped, and
if the guy was willing to chat her up where they could be listened too, he probably wasn’t telling the truth, not all of it at any rate.

  “Oh? That sounds… Like Tuesday, to tell you the truth. Lawrence is the President; of course he gets death threats. What, three a week or something? Doesn’t the Secret Service handle that most of the time?”

  That got a nod at least.

  “Yes. Of course most the time it’s just slow Melvin from Bumfuk going off about how his political viewpoint isn’t being fairly represented at the moment, not a cadre of people that might actually pull it off. This is… Big. You were in on it last time? This is larger. Deeper too. If we don’t break this soon, it might lead to… Something we’d all rather avoid.” Wilson followed the words with a stare.

  “We can’t take this through channels even. Even the IPB might be involved.” He held up his hand and leaned in.

  “Probably not, but we can’t risk it. So, are you in or not? We need Morris tracked. It isn’t anything huge; just slip a bug on him so we can track his movements. He keeps slipping past our surveillance. You know the drill. Put it on his car, or in something he’s going to be carrying around with him. Hell, if he’ll let you, shove it up his ass. Whatever you think is needed…” Wilson stopped talking and pasted a phony smile on his face. She assumed it was fake at least. It didn’t look that way, but that was probably just skill, not the man actually having feelings or anything. A lot of the men in the CIA at the top levels were basically psychopaths. Smart ones, but people that didn’t exactly think the same way everyone else did. Fearless for one thing. Or nearly so.

  Brian walked toward them from the front, his eyes cold and almost exclusively on the man next to her. If she hadn’t known better, which she really did, she’d have thought it was her jealous boyfriend coming to check on her. Wilson didn’t seem to recognize him at all, or if he did hid it freakishly well and waited for one of them to speak.

  Brian did first.

  “Karen wants to know when we need to have things ready for dinner. Blankets and all that for the picnic? Tobin has the food about ready. I didn’t know he could cook at all, but he seems to be doing pretty well.” While he spoke he glared at the new man hard, his hand finding the knife sheath he wore on his right thigh, the black hyper sharp thing he carried while working. It was made of carbon and light enough to exchange with him when he took another person’s place. Damn hard to use, because it had almost nothing to hold on to, but it was wicked sharp and strong. She knew what he was doing because she’d helped him redesign the pockets of his black fatigues to be able to reach it when he needed. That he was dressed as he was, with his armor on underneath suddenly hit her.

  Earlier she’d just figured it as him being a bit cautious, like she was most the time. After the thing the day before, it had just kind of made sense to her. Now it seemed related to what she was doing. He might not even know why he was doing it, wearing what he was. On the good side he didn’t bring anything out, just holding himself ready, hand in pocket. It looked odd, but Wilson didn’t need it explained, though he probably figured it as a pistol of some sort, not a knife. To his credit, the man didn’t go for a weapon himself, a good thing since that probably would have gotten him killed before Marcia could suggest otherwise.

  Instead she just shrugged.

  “Um, well, after the cake thing I think. So about eight? That’s… what two hours?”

  “Got it. I’ll tell the others.” Brian didn’t stop looking at the other man, so it was well into psycho glare territory. Intimidating. The other man didn’t respond though, or even act like he noticed.

  He just waited. So did Brian, clearly getting that something was wrong. Finally he nodded and looked a bit to the right, his eyes losing focus. Listening to something she couldn’t hear. The girl in his head? Karen’s little sister, Becky. After a bit he looked down and shook his head, grinning.

  “Sorry, going all combat vet on you both there, with the thousand meter gaze and all that. Is your friend coming on the picnic with us? We’ll need to let Tobin know, so he can get more food ready.” Blinking he smiled in a way that seemed genuine and relaxed suddenly.

  Weird.

  It was like the tide had changed while she wasn’t looking or something. Half a minute before Proxy looked ready to kill the man, now he was inviting him to dinner? Wilson would say no of course. It would be insane not to, not to mention potentially endangering his mission.

  “That sounds like fun. Marcia was just telling me about all of you. You’re Brian, right?”

  “Yeah. Brian Yi. Nice to meet you.” He actually put his hand out to shake like a grown-up and everything.

  “Larry Wilson. Not my real name of course. CIA. You get the idea. Trying to recruit your girlfriend here for some work. Try and work on her for me? It’s important. I know, sounds crazy, but I can’t really tell you anymore about it. Then I’d have to kill you and all that. You look kind of tough though, so I’d rather avoid trying, if it’s all the same.” He chuckled when he said it. It sounded real again.

  Brian just nodded.

  “Great, so you’ll come? Everyone’s coming. Mostly IPB, but it can’t hurt to make some new connections there. Some really talented people will be around. Worth meeting, even if your agency isn’t into hiring Infected people officially. A lot can be done unofficially and it’s about time we started looking into those kinds of options. Same goes the other way of course, in case you ever need a reference for a job or something.” It was said playfully, but had a serious undertone somehow.

  “I’ll be there. Eight O’clock on the beach you said?” He looked at Marcia when he asked.

  “Why not. If you want booze, bring your own.”

  That got a laugh as the man walked away, smiling as he did. Before she could ask Brian what the hell he’d been thinking he stopped and put a finger to his lips. Then he leaned in, as if trying to kiss her cheek.

  “We need to have him followed. Someone is going to try and kill him. I think at least. Dharma said it was going to happen, in the next hour or so. I… I don’t know, can you handle that? It shouldn’t be you personally. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know.” He stood watching the door that Wilson had left through.

  “It’s pretty important.”

  “OK. Um… well, we need to act fast then. Let’s see…” She didn’t raise her voice, just speaking as if the other people where in the room with her. They could hear her, most likely, even if she couldn’t hear them.

  “Peggy, take a walk with Lauren on the perimeter. We may have a shooter incoming or already here. Bridget, get in touch with Penny. She needs to be armed and shadow the same man she did last night. He’s dressed in green top and tan shorts. Straw hat with a loud hat band. She’ll know the one. Ink, if you could stand ready to take over for Bridget? You’ll need to cover back here too. She’s Cooper’s back-up if it comes to it. She’s the fastest of us here. Otherwise hold your position Bridgie. We don’t know if someone is going to try for us in here or not. If something happens I want everyone to hold this position and be ready to move if needed.” It wasn’t perfect, not by a vast way, since it left the back door unguarded when she left, which would happen if anything went down, but it was better than nothing. Brian looked satisfied with it at least.

  A few seconds later Charlot ran into the back area, slightly breathless.

  “Everyone is moving into position? I don’t know what this is about. Do we need to turn the cameras off?” That was her job, making them look good, so it was natural for her to think that way. Image first, everything else a distance second. It was important though, since the IPB couldn’t take a lot more bad press.

  “I don’t think so. Brian located someone in danger.”

  Charlot suddenly looked freaked, but took in his gear and clothing, his uniform as it was, and nodded.

  “We were assured you wouldn’t have to fight anyone, or at least that you wouldn’t transfer out for nearly two weeks. I… What do we do? We didn’t bring a doct
or with us. Can we get you to a hospital in time, just in case?” She closed with him, hugging him protectively, managing to not even seem angry about it. Then, she genuinely liked the man. He’d consistently been there for her and her family, even when no one else was, so what wasn’t to like? Marcia didn’t even have to think about everything that went into it. The woman loved him.

  Plus he almost totally ignored it when Charlot seemed angry.

  “First you stop worrying about me, because I’m not going anywhere. I don’t even have to fight, I don’t think. I was worried about that, but it seems OK now. Second, we leave this to the pro’s I guess. I’m a little worried about Penny, but… I can’t protect her anymore. I mean, not that I ever really did, but it’s… I think this is something important for her. Big. Not good, but… I don’t know. It’s confusing.”

  Then they waited. Brian went to talk to Tobin, to get the extra food ready and Charlot went to check in with her daughter. Marcia was still stuck watching the back door, which she wasn’t going to leave unguarded before she had too. That would be foolish. She had to trust her team, and she really did, she realized. Some of them were a little new to her, but they were all good people. Maybe some of the best in the world.

  That just left being worried for them. That was part of being in charge though, at least at the IPB. The military too and probably anything at all similar. If she made a mistake in her assignments, people might die. She didn’t know what was coming at all and didn’t have any way to prepare her team for it. So instead she stood and looked at the large brown double doors of the convention room space and scuffed her feet on the tight brown carpet, wishing she had her work clothes on still.

  The only excitement she got was when a man in a red t-shirt that said “Cake Kings” on it tried to come in with a suspicious lump under the back of his shirt by his waistband. He looked so guilty she nearly slapped him. It was just an automatic response, which she thankfully stopped. He was about twenty and had that little kid look that people under thirty just didn’t notice and everyone over couldn’t help but see. He also looked like a bit of a smart ass. So probably that other shows version of Denis. Without the super-powers or attempt to fix himself yet. He was cute, in a babyish way.