Stumbling forward, my foot hit a rock, but instead of kicking it out of the way, my toe jammed and I spilled forward onto my hands and knees.
Heath reached me, fell to his own knees beside me. “Oh, bonita.”
He cupped my cheek with a cool hand. Then he was fitting something between my lips, and water, sweet water, flooded my mouth.
When I’d sucked down as much as I could, I forced myself to focus on his face. He was pale, his eye patch askew, a cut along his forehead bleeding sticky into black hair. I reached a hand up and wiped away some of the blood, then straightened the patch, my fingers lingering on its edge.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Your eye.”
He smiled. “Not for destroying my Ebola?”
“No. Not sorry for that.”
His smile grew wider. “You won this time. You bested me.”
I shook my head. “I’m done playing.”
“Altogether? Or by someone else’s rules?”
“Altogether.”
He narrowed his gaze on me, and I had to think that maybe for the first time, he hadn’t known what I was going to say before I said it.
“I can’t picture you settled down in small-town America, living in a house with a picket fence.”
“You’re right. I’m more of a city girl.”
“I’m serious.”
“I am, too. I quit, Heath. For good.”
“How about you think about it, and when you decide, you let me know?”
“I’ve decided.”
“Not so fast, querida. I have something coming up, something big, and I need your help.”
“Is that a euphemism? Because I’m a bit under the weather.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. We’ll talk about it later. For now, you come with me. I have one thing I must do, and then I will spend all my time taking care of you.”
I shook my head. As much as I wanted to hole up with Heath, I couldn’t. “I have to get to Fleming. I have things to do, too.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. But if you can get me out of this desert, I can call her.”
“I’ll do that. And I’ll take you to her.”
“It will be a long drive.”
“We aren’t going to drive. I have systems in place. I have been planning my move against the powers that be for a long time.”
“A plane?”
“Si.”
I liked the sound of that. “Is that how you found me in this huge desert? These systems?”
He tilted his head to the side. “That and hacking into the satellite surveillance system to locate your heat signature. You stood out against the hot ground. The cool spot along El Camino del Diablo.”
The cool spot. I liked the sound of that, too.
He helped me to the truck, air-conditioning blasting on my skin. And although I wasn’t sure what was in store for Heath and me, or if anything was in store at all, we understood each other, we were the same.
And for now that was good enough for me.
Fleming
“Pay attention to the world,” said The Instructor. “It will tell you everything you need to know.”
Fleming didn’t have to wait for calls from Hammett or Chandler to hear the news of their operations. The big plasma television in the master bedroom suite told her all she needed to know.
The blimp crash at Canadafest dominated the news cycle on all the major cable stations. A hijacking, the whole crew dead. The airship was recovered from Lake Ontario, along with two unidentified bodies of the supposed hijackers.
News of Mexico City was harder to come by, but finally she located a report on a Mexican television station sandwiched between a variety show and Spanish-dubbed reruns of Dallas. The report of the scene at the bullring was dramatic, the news anchor’s voice cracking with excitement as he reported. Fleming wasn’t certain if he was exaggerating or not, but in the end it didn’t matter. There were no reports of Ebola deaths. Both Chandler and Hammett had succeeded in diverting The Instructor’s plans, and that brought Fleming to the next phase of this particular game.
She was going to enjoy this.
The White House
Ratzenberger hung up the Oval Office phone, so angry he was trembling.
Canada and Mexico, failed.
The Ebola lab, destroyed.
The girl, taken.
Manifest Destiny Two, going from a certainty to a pipe dream.
It had taken everything in his power not to scream at The Instructor when he got the news. The man had botched things, terribly. But he still wielded power, still commanded respect. He also assured Ratzenberger that this was just a minor setback. They’d be up and running again soon enough. How, the president had no idea. But he had to take The Instructor at his word.
He had no other choice.
“Angry, Mr. President?”
Ratzenberger jerked, startled by the female voice. Who was talking? Where had it come from?
“The pen.”
He patted his jacket pocket, taking out the Montblanc he’d found on his desk.
“I’m a bug,” said the pen. “And I’ve recorded all of your conversations for the past few days.”
There was a click, and then Ratzenberger heard himself ranting about MD2.
“Do I have your attention?” the pen asked.
“Yes,” the president mumbled.
“We own you now, Mr. President. Unless you want to be impeached, thrown in jail, and executed for treason. Do you want that?”
“No.”
“Good. We’re willing to allow you to stay in office, provided you stop all the take-over-the-hemisphere nonsense. But we want something in return.”
“You think you can blackmail the most powerful man in the world?”
“Yes. Because I’ve got safeguards in place. You go after me, or my sisters, and the tapes automatically get sent to CNN, among other media outlets. Is that what you want your legacy to be?”
“No.” Ratzenberger nervously itched at his nostril.
“And stop picking your nose. It’s disgusting.”
He pulled his hand back, shocked. They could see him, too?
“We have bugs planted all throughout the White House, among other places,” said the pen. “If you go beyond regular measures to try to find them, we release the tapes. For this relationship to work out for everyone concerned, we need to keep a close eye on you. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Our first demand is easy. In fact, we’ll be doing you a favor.”
“What is it?”
“All we want is a simple name and address.”
Chandler
“Sometimes when you think it’s over,” said The Instructor, “it isn’t over.”
Heath hadn’t been lying about the plane. He kept it in Calexico, an hour west of Yuma. Using a pilot’s license under the name Emilio Rodriguez, he had us in the air in record time. The craft wasn’t quite as luxurious as a corporate jet, but it was cool and stocked with plenty of water, all I cared about.
I wasn’t sure when I’d decided to trust Heath, but I had. Even to the point where I slept through much of the flight.
Fleming was on Long Island, and after landing at a private airstrip in Connecticut, Heath rented a car under another of his assumed names and drove me to the address in Easthampton Fleming had given me.
I was still weak when he helped me out of the car in the castle-like mansion’s drive.
“Want to come in?” I asked.
“The last time I saw your sisters, one of them tried to kill me.”
“You have that effect on women, don’t you?”
He lowered his lid in a wink. “Story of my life. I will see you again, no?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “Call me.”
“How about we meet? In three days. Chicago. Dinner at the restaurant where I first saw your beautiful face.”
It took me a beat to
figure out the place he meant. “You saw me that night. Unfortunately, I didn’t spot you.”
“Wear something sexy?”
I nodded. “It’s a date.”
Judging from his smile, and from the kiss he then laid on me, I’d better get some rest before those three days were up.
Fleming opened the door before I reached it. “I guess you came up with your own way of beating Hydra Deux.”
“I have my ways.”
She nodded, watching me through narrowed eyes. “Sure you brought him over to our side?”
“He was never on theirs. Heath’s on his own side. And at least for now, we want the same things.”
I leaned against the doorjamb, my legs shaking.
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then get in here before I have to carry you in.”
I gave Fleming a hug, whether it was spy protocol or not, and she introduced me to Bradley Milton.
“You’re probably aware your name is Milton Bradley backward.”
He glanced from me to Fleming then back again. “You two really are identical, aren’t you?”
“Nah,” I said. “She’s the crazy one.”
Fleming nodded. “And she’s the boring one.”
As soon as Bradley left the room, Fleming’s smile faded. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Really. You’d better lie down. We’re not out of this yet.”
“Hammett on her way?”
“She’s picking up Kirk.”
“And Julie?” Fleming had told me she’d rescued Julie, and from the sound of it, the girl had been through even more hell in the already hellish life she’d led.
“She’s been waiting to see you. Lie down in the first bedroom.” She pointed down a hall on the main level. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”
“And you’ll fill me in on Bradley?” I raised my brows.
“Sister talk can wait until after you get a nap.”
“Yes, Doctor.” I enjoyed giving Fleming a hard time, but the truth was, I couldn’t wait to lie down.
The room was dark and safe and comfortable. That, plus the bottle of Gatorade and aloe vera gel Bradley brought me, was everything I needed.
Almost everything.
A silhouette filled the doorway, and tears filled my eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
She raced across the room and was in my arms hugging me, and I didn’t even care about my epic sunburn. She smelled of shampoo, and after all Fleming had told me on the phone of her ordeal, I figured it must have taken a four-hour shower to wash her experience away.
“Fleming told me about what happened.”
“I know.”
“And you’re OK?”
“A lot of people had it much worse than me. A lot of people died. I try not to think about it too much.”
“We’ll fix this, Julie. Fleming and Hammett and I will fix this.” Strange how I was getting used to including Hammett in my declarations. “I promise you that.”
“I know you will.” She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. “You saved the people in Mexico City. Fleming told me about it. How does it feel to be, like, a superhero?”
With all that she’d been through, she was still so fresh and real and young. I thought of my last conversation about heroism and couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“A chat I had with my sister Hammett. About saving people. About what being a hero would feel like.”
“So what does it feel like?”
I shook my head.
“You are a hero, Chandler.”
I kept shaking. Back and forth. “You’re amazing, Julie.”
“You are!”
“I used to think so. That I was one of the good guys, even if I did bad things.”
“And now?”
“Now things are complicated.”
“You destroyed the virus.”
“I don’t know if that makes me a hero.”
“You saved people. You saved me back in New York.”
“But not in Maine.”
She waved it away with a hand, as if the truth were as easy to fan away as a bad smell.
“I’m an assassin, Julie. That’s what I was trained for. That’s what I do.” I wasn’t sure if I should tell her, if I should destroy her vision of me. But I’d always tried to be honest with Julie. I couldn’t betray that now. “I killed the president. You must have heard about it.”
I thought it would feel better to say it. Instead I felt tired, as hopeless as before. My near-death euphoria in the desert aside, I was as shackled by the reality of what I was as I ever had been.
“I know you must have had a good reason.”
“Did I? I thought so at the time. Now I don’t know. I’m sure of one thing, though. I’m not a hero.”
“You are to me.”
I shook my head. “If I really was, I would have kept The Instructor from taking you back at the lighthouse. I would have kept him from knowing about you in the first place. I failed, Julie. I failed you.”
“You’ve never failed me, Chandler. But maybe saving me isn’t the most important thing.”
“Then what is?”
“I don’t know. But maybe saving others isn’t the only thing heroes do.”
I shook my head. Whether it was due to the dehydration or my lingering exhaustion or the beating my body had taken over the past couple of weeks, I wasn’t following.
Julie took my hand, folding it between hers. “Maybe saving people is only part of it. Maybe inspiring others to be heroes counts, too.”
“Inspiring?” I thought of Fleming, who’d been heroic long before I knew her and steady as a rock ever since. Maybe Hammett, although I still had trouble imagining that nutjob doing anything altruistic, and if she accidently did, I’d doubt it was because of anything I had said. Heath had a certain heroism about him, but while I might have inspired him in certain sexual ways, I hadn’t been able to talk him out of keeping the Ebola. I’d had to take it. “Who have I inspired?”
“Me.”
I looked into her beautiful face, so sweet and yet worn with cares far beyond her years. Far beyond anyone’s years.
Tears flooded my vision. I tilted my chin up and opened my eyes wide, trying to keep them from streaming down my cheeks. “You were always a hero, honey.”
Julie gave me a little smile and shook her head. “That’s nice of you to say, but it’s not true. Knowing you made me who I am. And you know what? For the first time in my life, I’m really proud of myself.”
I reached out for her and took her in my arms. For a long time, we just sat there, holding each other, and when she finally pulled away, my eyes were dry, and I felt calm.
“Get some sleep, will you?” Julie said. “And don’t worry about anything. It’s all going to be OK. I promise.”
I smiled, remembering when I’d said to her the same things she was now saying to me.
Julie pushed up from the bed and stepped toward the door. Pausing, she looked back at me, a smile fit for an angel curving her lips.
“Thanks, Chandler,” she said. “I love you so much. And I’m proud of you.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. And I’m proud of you, too. So proud.”
Then I closed my eyes, and a few seconds later I heard the door close behind her.
Julie
Julie pulled the door tightly closed and leaned back against it. When she’d imagined seeing Chandler again, talking to her, she’d assumed she would break down and blubber like an idiot. But somehow, for the first time in what felt like forever, she’d had no need for tears.
The doorbell chimed, and she heard voices in the foyer.
She needed to sneak out of here, to go upstairs. As a threat to anyone except the few who were inoculated against her virus, she was walking death.
She stepped into the hall and was about to turn the corner and make a run for t
he back staircase when she heard the bark.
Oh my God.
She stopped, unable to walk one more step, unable to move.
The click of canine toenails on marble echoed down the hall.
Tears sprang to Julie’s eyes. Happy ones.
Another bark.
Julie craned her neck around the corner, peering into the foyer. A woman and a man stood with Fleming and Bradley, but she didn’t look at any of them. She only had eyes for her sweet, loyal, brave, brave Kirk.
The woman noticed Julie. She nodded, then dropped the leash.
Feet slipping, Kirk went nowhere for several strides, like some kind of cartoon. Then his nails finally grabbed purchase and he bolted into Julie’s arms.
She gathered Kirk to her, ruffling his ears as he licked her face. “I thought you were dead, buddy. How…”
“He’s a great dog.”
Julie looked up at the woman who’d been holding Kirk’s leash. Her face was so much like Chandler’s, except for the different placement of her cuts, scrapes, and bruises and the fact that she had wildly colored hair. “Hammett?”
The woman nodded.
Julie remembered seeing Hammett after The Instructor’s people had dragged her through the lighthouse window. “You saved him?”
She nodded. “And I gutted the emo bitch who shot him.”
Julie remembered the girl. How could she not? And although she probably shouldn’t be glad to hear about someone’s death, she couldn’t manage even a hint of regret. “Good.”
Kirk pulled away from her, wagged his way over to Hammett as if to check on her, then wagged back to Julie.
Julie ran her fingers over his soft head. Her stomach clenched, her eyes misting. A second ago, she’d had everything figured out. Now that she knew Kirk was alive, she wasn’t sure what to do.
She peered up at Hammett. “He seems to really like you.”
Hammett looked confused, as if she had no idea what to say. “He’s a great dog,” she repeated.
“Could you…” Julie’s voice cracked, and for the first time since she’d made her decision, she wasn’t sure if she could go through with it.
She looked down at Kirk’s smiley, panty face, and listened to him beat his tail on the floor. Thump. Thump. Thump. Lowering her lips to his head, she kissed him and ruffled his ears one last time. Then she pushed herself to her feet. “I want you to have him,” she said to Hammett.
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