“It’s no longer transmitting,” said the October Man. “Why is it that you don’t know where your own partner is? May I remind you of the other things we’re paying you for?”
“Hey, if he wants to go rogue, there’s nothing I can do about it,” Walsh shot back. “But if you want me to get more agents over here to haul him in, hence drawing more attention to us, I’ll do it. Is that what you want?”
“Don’t get smart with me. We’re one step closer to getting back what’s ours. Our reinforcements are scheduled to arrive shortly and I won’t have this operation compromised-”
There were two beeps that interrupted him.
“Hold on a sec. I’ve got someone on the other line.” Walsh pressed the button, cutting off the October Man. “What?”
“Tsukiji Fish Market in half an hour.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Your Canadian connection cannot speak to you directly. Stop asking questions and meet him in a half hour.” The line went dead.
Canadian connection? It was Fox, no doubt. And he got someone to speak on his behalf in order to trick Japan’s own Echelon system. Clever. He pressed the swap button and all he heard was a dial done. Fuckin’ A.
He threw the phone on the bed. It bounced once and missed Pyotr, who was about to say something but Walsh cut him off by pointing a huge fat finger at him. “Don’t start with me, you and your goddamn reality shows. I’ve done enough for you people. And take your damn shoes off while you’re on the bed. Jesus Christ, you must be the only assassin on the face of the earth too damn cheap to get a decent pair of shoes.”
At least it was only Pyotr that tagged along with him back here. He couldn’t remember what he had said to convince Demyan not to come back with him, but was glad he did. Demyan’s too much of a wack job. Walsh felt safer playing tennis with a grenade than having him around. A few more days, that was all Walsh could think of. With twenty million dollars waiting for him in an offshore bank account, he could finally take the early retirement he had dreamt of and disappear to some remote island. He didn’t know where he would go yet, but it would be sunny and hot all year round. He’d watch football via satellite and drink booze all day long.
“Ain’t there anything else on TV?”
Pyotr sighed. “Poshyel k chyertu.”
“Whatever, jackass,” Walsh muttered as he waved him off without knowing that Pyotr had called a loser. Why couldn’t he watch good old American Football, like real men do? Just then there was a knock on the door. “Were you expecting someone?” Walsh whispered to Pyotr, who shrugged his shoulders as though he were telling him that he didn’t know. The knocking turned to banging. Walsh then rushed to the door. “All right, keep your shirt on. Who is it?”
“It’s me, Nita.”
Walsh paused. What the hell is she doing here? He turned to Pyotr, who gave him the, I don’t know, don’t look at me, look. Walsh quietly motioned for him to go hide in the coat closet.
“Quit stalling and hurry up,” Walsh whispered through gritted teeth. The Russian rushed past him into the coat closet, and Walsh slid the door shut. He then opened the door for Parris, who, with tears in her eyes, rushed past him so fast that he felt a slight breeze. “Jesus, Parris. Thank God you’re all right.” Walsh closed the door quickly behind her.
“Levickis and Dobbs, they’ve-”
“I know, we lost contact. I figured something happened to them. And I thought that you were a goner too when I couldn’t reach you.”
“They’re both dead, I just know it. I managed to get by one of the guards before more of them rushed downstairs to the Safe.”
Walsh moved past her so that her back faced the doorway the way he wanted. “Okay, you can calm down now. It’s all right.” Walsh steadied her by placing both hands on her forearms. She instantly pushed him away. Walsh stumbled backwards but caught his balance on the edge of the dresser. As he looked up, he stared down the barrel of a HK USP Tactical, complete with a noise suppressor. “Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Parris approached Walsh. “You set us up. And now Levickis and Dobbs are dead. You didn’t expect me to make it out, did you?”
Walsh didn’t answer.
He doesn’t look too scared having a gun pointed at him. Did he just briefly look past me? That’s when she heard a slight creak in the floor behind her. Parris shot her left leg out in a back kick and struck Pyotr in the groin with the heel of her pumps. He cried out and curled over as she spun around and landed the handle of the HK to the back of his head, flooring him. She heard movement behind her. That’s when she feinted left, dodging Walsh, and then kicked him in the right kneecap. Had she contacted him a few more inches more to the outside of his knee, she could have easily shattered it. But she only wanted to floor him like his Russian counterpart, which she did.
“Damn it, Parris. You and those shoes.”
“Shut up.” She dashed around him so she had both Walsh and the Russian in her sight. “Get up, both of you, and get on the bed. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
Pyotr was slower than Walsh at obeying her instructions.
“Now!” Parris yelled.
The Russian limped his way to the bed, and Walsh sat down next to him.
“Sit on your hands and face me with your feet apart.” It was then that she noticed Pyotr’s blackened running shoes, they were damp and the stains looked recent. “So it was you, wasn’t it? You set off the alarm at Hexagon.”
Pyotr remained silent.
“Don’t bother answering. Your shoes told me everything.”
Pyotr grimaced as he looked at Parris. “I’ll say nothing to you, you worthless, black-”
The HK coughed out a single shot to his throat, and Pyotr flipped over backwards and onto the floor. She then pointed the gun to Walsh. “You want to make a redneck comment too?”
Walsh had his eyes shut when the shot rang out, but now opened them slowly and turned around. He looked at the hole in the wall where the bullet struck-there was blood spatter around it. Pyotr had been thrown back and he hung off the bed from the waist up.
“Jesus Christ, that was dumb! That was a real dumb thing to do.” Walsh looked back at Parris.
“Shut up!” yelled Parris with a hard Bajan accent. “You can shoot off you mout’ too and you’ll get exactly the same t’ing. But I ain’t done wit’ you yet.”
Walsh looked at her with a blank stare as though he would’ve said something had he understood what she just said.
“Up you get. Don’t try anything on me because I’m armed with enough Pandora to wipe out the city, so you best not try anything stupid.”
Walsh seemed to understand her that time, since she’d dropped the accent. “What? Are you insane? And where are we going anyway?”
“We’re going to pay the rest of your group a visit. Where are they?”
Walsh got up with both hands held high. “We were supposed to meet at the Tsukiji Fish Market.”
“When?”
“In half an hour.”
“Get dressed, ‘cause that’s where you’re taking me.”
Chapter 29
Tsukiji Fish Market, Chuo Ward, Tokyo
Raindrops dotted the windshield as Fox and his prisoner waited in the car, alone in a deserted parking lot in one of the world’s largest fish markets. Fox sat diagonally in the backseat where he could keep an eye on him at all times. He was relieved that Sato’s imposter had a cell phone-one with a digital voice recorder. The rest was easy. He forced him to record himself with the phrases Fox gave him. Then he called Walsh from a payphone in a discreet location and played back the recorded message into the phone. He did this while he made the imposter face a wall with both arms and feet apart. It was clean and efficient, with the absence of his voice and his and Walsh’s names-the Boeisho’s own Echelon system would never pick anything up.
Fox couldn’t recall the last time he had seen a parking lot that was so c
lean. Not a shred of paper was seen blowing about. He saw a car approach from the opposite direction, moments after, the imposter turned off the car engine. The other car stopped about fifty meters away. Why did Walsh stop so far away? Fox looked past the driver into Walsh’s car hoping he could gather a clue. He wasn’t able to.
He tapped the back of the car seat with the barrel of the gun. “Get out-and slowly. Remember your hands.” Obediently, the imposter stepped out, left the door open and kept both hands held up high as he walked forward. Fox got out too, leaving the Micro Uzi inside, and he closed both his and the driver’s doors.
Fox allowed a bit more than an arm’s length between him and the imposter before he followed. Something wasn’t right. He looked around. It was just an empty parking lot. The market itself was deserted. If a sniper had him in his sights, they’d have to be outside the market in one of the surrounding buildings. The chance that his phone call was intercepted was unlikely. Maybe the imposter somehow sent out a distress signal. But Fox had searched him from head to toe, he was clean. He didn’t sense an ambush, but his old army instincts kicked in. That’s when he noticed there was someone behind Walsh.
“Stop.”
The imposter obeyed as his hands began to drop slightly.
“Walsh, why don’t you come on out?” There was movement behind Walsh. The back door swung open and out came Dr. Parris with a sidearm pointed at Walsh. Her eyes narrowed and a slight scowl developed as she shook her head slowly. He saw her lips move and Walsh got out. With the opposite hand she shoved him forward, staying a few feet behind him.
Fox felt a slight chill as a gust of wind blew through the parking lot. “Would either of you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“She’s a traitor, and she’s armed with Pandora,” Walsh yelled.
Parris kept an eye on both Walsh and Fox. “Go ahead. Shoot me. You’ll kill me, yourself, and a few million others.”
She better not mean what I think she does. “I see. Do you mind telling me how you got hold of Pandora?”
“Your partner set us up,” Parris yelled. “His friends in Ares killed Dobbs and Levickis. They were counting on Hashimoto killing me too. Ironically, he saved me.”
It suddenly hit Fox. I knew it. But wait a minute…of course…the tracking bug in my watch. Only Walsh could’ve gotten close enough to bug it. He could’ve done so before I boarded the plane at Entebbe, while I was in the shower. “So what has Hashimoto promised you? A life of total bliss after the final holocaust?”
“I don’t plan to go on with them. I’m just as guilty as you are for corrupting what could’ve been a perfect world,” Parris asserted.
Fox noticed the imposter’s hands drop a bit more. “Keep your hands up. I’m still watching you.” His hands went up quickly. “Let me get this straight. We’ve both, in our separate times, helped bring down terrorists and other criminals, and now you’re saying that we were doing more harm than good?”
“You’re a fool. Marx said you wouldn’t understand.”
“Maybe not. But what I do understand is that you’ve been brainwashed by a psychopath. And I also know that the real Dr. Nita Parris wouldn’t be easily persuaded unless she was under someone else’s control.”
Parris smirked. “You’re always full of answers, aren’t you?”
Fox clenched his teeth. “You studied Clarity, you know what it does. The only thing is, you don’t want to admit that you’re a victim, do you?”
Parris nudged Walsh below his neck with the tip of her gun as his hands started to drop. They went back up again quickly.
“It’s too bad I didn’t get a chance to get to know you too well,” said Fox. “Although we started off on the wrong foot, I figured you for the type of woman that wouldn’t bend to someone else’s will.” Fox saw the instant change in Parris’s eyes and knew he’d better move quickly. The imposter certainly saw the same thing and both he and Fox dove to opposite sides a split second before he heard a loud bang which was instantly followed by an invisible object that flew by his left ear.
Parris was about to take a second shot when Walsh swung out his right arm, caught her arm underneath, sending the second bullet into the sky.
Fox was kicked to his lower back and fell to the ground, causing the Sig to fly from his hand. As he tried to get up, he received another kick to his stomach that flipped him over onto his back. This was not the position to be in, leaving himself at a disadvantage.
The imposter stood above him, with his right leg raised as though to drop a kick on him, when a splatter of blood along with small pieces of bone, muscle, and intestine exploded from his stomach. He dropped to his knees and keeled over onto the concrete as a red ring of blood formed around his torso.
That was the last shot from the HK before Walsh managed to grab hold of Parris’s arm, pulling the gun out of her grip and throwing her onto the hood of the car. Very quickly she spun around and kicked the suppressor from Walsh’s hand before he had a chance to fire a shot. While he was knocked off balance from the impact, Parris spun around the opposite direction and connected a second crescent kick to his jaw, making him stumble the other way. She charged him with a series of combo punches, too quick for him to block. As he stumbled back she pushed as hard as she could against the ground with her feet and propelled herself into the air. With a slightly arched back, she transferred her energy into driving her right knee upwards and struck Walsh in the chest with a flying knee attack. As though he was struck with a sledge hammer, Walsh buckled and fell to the ground.
Fox stared into the eyes of the imposter as his blood poured closer to Fox’s fingertips. His chance of getting any information from him was lost. Fox got up on one knee and felt a hot metal object press against his left temple.
“To answer you, Fox, I’m not bending to anyone’s will. And guess what? I won’t bend to yours either.”
Fox slowly looked up and stared into Parris’s cold eyes, as though a lifetime’s accumulation of anger seemed to fill them. “So that’s it? You’re just going to shoot me?”
“Were you expecting something else?” Parris asked. “Typical of you. You’re so damn arrogant.”
For a short moment, she glanced at his chest. Fox glanced down to see what it was. Holy shit. Her table napkin. It hung partially out of his breast pocket. He then looked into her eyes. “I wanted to give it back to you, hopefully when we were on better terms. You want it? Take it. I know how much it meant to Nita Parris. I hope you don’t mind giving it back to her.”
She blinked rapidly and her lips trembled, the scowl vanished, and she breathed hard. She appeared to be struggling, her focus dwindling, as though part of her wanted to shoot him and another part didn’t.
Slowly, Fox got up, keeping both hands held up to shoulder height. He could’ve easily disarmed her, but what then? She might resist, possibly having the same adrenaline rush her test subject did and overpower him. Better keep the table napkin visible…it’s definitely affecting her.
He smiled at her. “I’m sure this table napkin must bring back some fond memories. The times you ate with your mother, or maybe it was a gift to you. Maybe the last thing you got from her before she passed away.”
At that moment, her hands trembled with the HK. The last thing he needed was for her to accidentally pull the trigger. He slowly inched to the side and lowered his right hand over his breast pocket, took the table napkin and held it out. “Take it. It’s yours.”
With her free hand, she reached over and took it as she lowered the HK. She brought it close to her face and took a deep breath, as though its scent gave her strength.
Fox reached out calmly and took the HK from her without resistance. He tossed it to the ground, pulled her into him, and tightly embraced her.
Parris sniffled as the tears poured. “I killed them. I killed them all.”
“Don’t say that. You haven’t killed anyone.”
“I watched their bodies being eaten by the microbe. I’m the one who released P
andora on Levickis, Dobbs, and the Boeisho agent. Fox, he was still alive and I watched him die right in front of me!”
“You said Walsh set you up,” Fox reminded Parris. “That it was Ares who killed them.”
“But there was an experiment.” Parris wiped away a tear. “Hashimoto’s not even the main person we’re after. He’s working for Dr. Tabitha Marx, and she’s bio-engineered Pandora so it only targets humans. They gave me a demonstration. They dragged in Levickis’s and Dobbs’s bodies, along with a Boeisho agent they captured, and there were mice, and I pushed the button to release Pandora on all three of them. I killed them, Fox and I didn’t even feel sorry for them. I murdered an innocent man in cold blood, I-”
Fox grabbed Parris’s face gently and forced her to look into his eyes. “Listen. You were under their influence. They were controlling you so you would think the way they wanted you to think. That wasn’t you who killed them. That was someone else they created. But now you’re Dr. Nita Parris again, and as traumatizing as it may be, you’re going to have to let that go. There was nothing you could’ve done to save any of them. And although I didn’t want to admit it when I first met you, I need you. Especially now, because what Marx is planning is huge. With Ares around, it doesn’t help. You’re the only person I can rely on right now, so we’re going to have to take down both Ares and The Promise on our own. Do you understand me?”
A few seconds went by, and then Parris nodded. There was something about the way that she stared at him, with her lips slightly parted. Raindrops fell, one by one, off each cheekbone and ran like dew on a newly formed leaf. It was just like in the dream. The difference was that she was alive this time, and Fox would never let anything happen to her. But that stare, he hadn’t seen her stare at him like that since…when they first met. As the inside of his mouth moistened, his head slowly gravitated towards hers.
The danger radar went off in his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement, enough to make him shove Parris to the side so hard she fell to the ground. He dove for the HK, rolled over on the ground once with it, and shot Walsh three times. Walsh, who was partially standing, lost his grip on Fox’s Sig when the first shot landed below his right shoulder. His spin was counterbalanced by the second shot below the left clavicle, and the third shot went straight to the sternum and threw him back-first onto the hood of the car. His lifeless body rolled onto the ground.
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