The Infected [Books 1-6]

by P. S. Power

  Plus, it gave Marcia a reason to stand back and watch what went on.

  It was fascinating to watch Charlot work when she was pissed and thought she could get away with a little more than would be normally allowed. She had Warren do the speaking, since he wasn’t Infected, and had Tobin stand next to him, not getting any help from Denis, which left him looking scared and shy, as the head chef spoke about how ashamed he felt about what had happened. Then they cycled through most of the famous people and included Lauren, who sounded so sad about the whole thing it nearly brought tears to Marcia’s eyes.

  “How can we live in a world that insists we don’t?”

  It was poignant for sure. The whole thing went on for about ten minutes and a crowd gathered. It wasn’t a big deal, but one of the people in the audience, standing back behind the others, looked vaguely familiar to her. It could have just been a coincidence, because she’d known a lot of people over the years, but the man had the feel of covert ops about him. He wore it like the villain of a bad spy novel, standing with his eyes on her directly. She turned to close with him a bit, not just look, when there was a commotion behind them. A single police car pulling up with the lights on and siren blasting.

  It nearly got the men in the car shot, she noticed, but Brian stopped himself in time. Bridget was halfway to the vehicle when it stopped though. Impulse. Marcia sighed and made her way over as well. If this was about them using the parking lot to complain, well, they could move on. Probably leaving a couple of police bodies behind, but it was probably fair for them to show up and send them on their way, wasn’t it? They were kind of disturbing the peace.

  Instead the officer that stood up waved to her directly.

  “Excuse me, are you Marcia Turner?” He spoke calmly, that bored expression that the police had on their faces about half the time locked in place.

  He shouldn’t have known her name though, not just by seeing her face. She wasn’t high enough profile for that.

  “Yes.” A few more steps brought her nearly into striking range. Her ideal distance at least. From here, about ten feet back, she could hit the man before he could even get to his side arm. It was just a difference in raw speed. Bridget was right along with her, providing her own miniature version of backup.

  “How did you know?” Suspicions aside, sometimes asking a simple question would throw people off guard. The police were used to being in charge, which meant they were easily put off their game by asking things they weren’t ready to answer. It was normally a bad plan, but if this was a set up or an attack, she was just going to kill the men, bad press or not.

  The man outside the car pointed toward her stomach.

  “The bullet holes from the exercise earlier. I’m supposed to let you know that the sniper you caught earlier has been identified. Morton Sims. Kind of a local boy. We don’t think there’s any real threat, but the District Attorney has already decided to press charges, since Mort isn’t allowed to own weapons here. Just keeping you in the loop.” He looked around and saw the cameras, then smiled. It wasn’t very convincing, but then no one was getting footage of him in particular.

  “Since we’re always more than happy to help out the IPB.” He blinked, but at least this guy didn’t seem to be lying about anything. Not hiding secret bigotry or anything. Not more than was probably prudent for his job.

  “What’s the situation here? People don’t seem overly happy.”

  Bridget took another step forward, a little too close to the man for his own comfort, instinct forcing him to pull back just a little, weight shifting back, feet sliding on the asphalt just enough to show he really didn’t want to be there.

  The girl looked up at the man, her face serious.

  “We were invited to diner here by the owner, but when we came, he decided that he really didn’t want any Infected in his place. Not ones that could be noticed at least. As if being pretty means the same thing as being worth common courtesy.” She growled the words, but they were still a bit high pitched. She was just too small for that not to happen. Like a young girl.

  The words were too adult for her to be using, so it was probably part of a planned speech or something similar to that, given who her mom was, but the officer just nodded.

  “OK. Well… I could call the IPB in on it, but it looks like they’re already here. Do you need any backup? I could talk to the owner if you want, see if we can’t straighten this out. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. No one wants this much bad press.”

  Bridget snorted, which sounded almost like a hiccup for her.

  “No thanks. I’m too hungry to wait around here anyway. We should all go and get some real food, not this fake-fusion-French-Cuban or whatever it is. Thanks though. We’ll be leaving I think.”

  Marcia nodded, it was a good call. She tried to find the man in the crowd again, but it looked like he’d left. That was too bad, since Christian could have told her if he knew anything about her missing friends at all or if it was just happenstance. As it stood, the woman had probably ignored the people gathered completely. She really didn’t want to have others around much and crowds were a mess. Luckily it wasn’t very strong, as first modes went, so she could put up with people if she had to. Otherwise she’d be locked in her room at the base all the time.

  “All right, let’s go get some food. People getting too hungry won’t help the situation at all.” They had several big eaters after all and they were a good hour late getting that taken care of.

  Blissfully nothing much happened for the next two hours, except what should have. Food, a few camera flashes on the walk back to the hotel and a few hard glares from the people behind the desk at the hotel, since to their minds they’d caused the scene earlier. So about what she’d have expected. It was only just turning Ten-thirty when they got in, so that meant there’d be plenty of time for a hasty sweep of the room and to change clothes before the meeting in the bar. If she hurried at least.

  She wanted to get to the meeting point early after all. By about an hour ideally, so the room search would have to wait, even though it shouldn’t. That just pointed out that she needed to get some of the others trained up on that, so that they could do it too. Changing could be done though and she climbed into a loose pair of slacks and a blouse that was bright red. Her hair was short enough she didn’t need to do much with it, just comb it quickly. It wasn’t about looking good this time, just not so out of place anyone would notice her. The place was a bar after all and there was a convention starting, so at least some of the people would be dressed like she was. Close enough that no one would notice, she hoped. It would be a pain if she got hit on too much. Not that she didn’t like men; she really did, occasionally even the drunk ones, but turning guys down in a bar tended to get them to remember you and depending on how this went that may not be ideal.

  It was a crap shoot though. This could end up being anything from a bit of a reunion with some old buddies to an all out military assault or even a bomb. Hopefully not, because it was a nice hotel and she had fragile people hanging around. Ones that she kind of liked.

  Before she got to the door Penny stopped her, speaking into the ear bud that she’d put back in out of habit. That, or Penny had done it for her. That was slightly creepy if it was the case, because she hadn’t noticed it at all.

  The voice sounded normal though. Like a woman in her early-to-mid twenties.

  “Where are you headed? I mean, we’re supposed to be on the buddy system or something, right? I can go with you, if you want. Watch you pick up guys or whatever.”

  It was a great idea, if one slightly hard to coordinate normally. She smiled and gave the room a nod. She didn’t want to say it all out loud, in case the room had been bugged again, but it was really almost never a mistake to have someone ready to go that no one else knew about.

  “OK, I’m off to work, so Bridget, will you and Warren stay here for a while? I don’t know when I’ll be back. Leave me the bed closest to the door?” She sounded happy
enough about it, since there were two beds that would mean that she’d probably end up with Warren in with her, but that was fine.

  “Wait, you didn’t mention me, does that mean you want me to go or not? Are you afraid the room is bugged again? Oh!”

  Something made Marcia’s right hand move on its own, she was just about to shake the spasm out when the invisible girl spoke again.

  “Squeeze code, once for yes, twice for no. That way no one can hear us and probably wouldn’t catch on even if they saw it on film. Do you want me to go with you?”

  She tightened her hand once, lightly.

  “OK. Um, do I need to bring a gun for this? Brian packed one for me, just in case. I can kind of shoot it even. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be in a gun battle, but if it comes to it, I can hit someone from a few feet away.” She laughed gently as she said the words, but that stopped when Marcia squeezed her hand to signal yes again.

  “Oh? Um, OK. I’ll get it then, give me a second here.” It took longer than a second, and Marcia made small talk with the other two, who were settling in to bed already, Bridget was in hers, but Penny didn’t mention it as being a problem, so she decided to ignore it for now. For all she knew that was what turned the girl on. She might not even know that the man was strictly gay, not bi, or anything. Come to that, Marcia didn’t really know it either. It didn’t really matter, not in the moment.

  “Got it. Am I supposed to watch for anyone in particular, or… Oh, right, um, right hand…”

  The answer was yes, but by playing twenty questions Marcia felt they got to a relatively good understanding of what was needed for the operation. Penny would hang back and watch for anyone that seemed to be paying too much attention to her or the people she was with. If they started shooting, she was supposed to stop them. Preferably alive. It was hard to question dead people after all. That part was hard to convey, but the girl wasn’t a hardened killer, Marcia didn’t think. Not that the concept had ever come up in conversation. She was a thief though, and a good one.

  The only fight Marcia had even noticed her being in had ended with Denis being laid out on the floor, unconscious. The woman had hit him with a chair. That indicated she was willing to take action, at least in an emergency.

  They separated a bit, just in case someone started shooting at her as she entered the Blue Boat, which was populated with more people than she would have expected the night before the convention was to start. Some of the people were a bit too pretty for real life, being television personalities and hookers most likely. The rest were mainly dressed up as tourist and businessmen. She grabbed a corner table by the far wall so she could see both the front door, which was made of glass and the solid wooden one that led to the back room. The employees looked right for the job, but that could just mean that the operatives in place were well trained, so she made a point to keep an eye on them too. There were at least two people, both men, that were giving her way too much attention for comfort.

  One of them just seemed drunk and interested in some company, but not drunk enough to come over and ask if she was game. Not yet at least. The other was nursing a drink of colored liquid that all the ice had melted out of. It took a solid effort not to stare back at him. It wasn’t that he was all that obvious, but he kept looking at her using his peripheral vision. No one did that in a bar. They just looked at you if they wanted too, or avoided you, if they thought it might start a fight if they stared. He was keeping tabs of her and that was odd. So definitely watching for someone.

  At eleven-forty Burke came in, dressed in a light pink shirt that had short sleeves and a pair of comfortable looking cream shorts. The look screamed tourist, except for the high and tight haircut which spoke of being ex-military. He’d been a Green Beret, first, then in Delta Force before switching jobs to work with the IPB. Most of their agents, the non-Infected ones, had something similar going on. Not all of them were ex-military, but all of them were insanely tough for regular people. They had to be to do the job. That and exceptionally stable mentally.

  He looked past her a bit too obviously, since even dressed down she normally got a few looks from men in public situations. It wasn’t a conscious thing and he didn’t do too badly, just taking a position at the far end of the bar where he could keep an eye on her, a gun holster peeking out from under the loose edge of the shirt as he climbed up on the stool. It was a bit of a giveaway.

  She ordered another drink, a Pina-collada, even though she couldn’t taste it. It also wouldn’t get her drunk, no matter how many of them she slammed down. It was a bar though and that meant drinking something. Besides, it had calories, so she could count it toward her daily minimum. Being a woman and not trying to look like a chronic alcoholic that evening, it meant having something frothy with a little umbrella in it. Hers was bright red.

  Six minutes later, almost as if timed, Lancaster and Reyes came in and looked around too carefully while standing in the doorway. It was important to be observant, but they were treating the whole thing like a combat mission, scouring the place for snipers, bombs and enemies. They needed to be looking for watchers. She’d still only made the one herself, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Anyone could be an enemy in a situation like this and forgetting that would be a mistake. After they looked at her twice she waved them over. There was no real reason for them not to, since the meeting was for all of them. It wasn’t like spreading out would really keep them safer, not in a space that small.

  A single bomb and they’d all be dead no matter where they were in the room.

  Well, not her, but she actually cared about her friends, so it wouldn’t be wonderful for her to walk out wearing them. Having the man she didn’t know watching from the bar was kind of reassuring that way. Very few organizations put personnel in place to be blown up on purpose. It could happen, but the guy was trying to be a pro, if he wasn’t one in truth. That meant he wasn’t going to just try and play suicide bomber. She hoped so at least. Of course that had happened to her already that year, someone willing to blow themselves up for a chance to kill those around her. At the base even. Twice. She wasn’t going to ignore that, even if the man did seem better trained than the wacko anti-Infected bigots that had tried before.

  Lancaster just walked over, but Reyes looked pissed and kind of stalked.

  “So much for keeping a low profile.” He growled the words at her, which got him raised eyebrows in return.

  “Um, Reyes? We’re supposed to be meeting someone we all know. It’s not exactly like we can hide in here. Just go ahead and sit and relax a bit. This isn’t some huge spy mission. If it was we wouldn’t be meeting in the bar of the same hotel we’re staying in.” She grinned and took a sip of her drink through the bright red straw, an oversized thing meant to get her drunk fast.

  The man sat, still looking tense and grumpy. He was normally about the nicest agent the IPB had, so it was pretty obvious he wasn’t please about being there. He sat across the table from her, probably to allow maximum glaring, which got Lancaster to move in alongside her. The big man wrapped his left arm around her and squeezed gently, pulling her into him. It was nice and sold the idea they were all just meeting for a friendly drink a lot better than the stalking and gloominess of the other man. He even smiled. It was fake, but a professional kind of thing to cover the fact that he was probably nervous too.

  He whispered into her hair, pretending to kiss her on the cheek, “Any sign of Morris yet?”

  She turned into him and made a move to kiss him back, actually touching his flesh with her lips to sell the role. After all, the guy was a hunk, good looking even at forty-six, so she might as well take advantage of the situation. Marcia whispered back gently.

  “Watcher at the bar, maybe others. No Morris yet.” It was all she had really so she just waited and watched, trying to smile as the others ordered. Lancaster getting Whisky, Reyes a soda water. The man didn’t drink at all, so it made sense for him not to at the moment. Morris might just remember something like t
hat. Little details could give things away after all. Of course, they weren’t trying to trick the man, so acting like themselves wasn’t out of the question, was it? Even having Burke and Penny in the place wasn’t out of what would be normal. Morris liked her well enough, she thought, but he also thought she was a paranoid. That wasn’t too far off, so it probably wouldn’t set off any alarms or anything. Plus she had a strange feeling that no one else realized Penny was there at all. Not even Lancaster, which was saying something.

  After all, if Penny had a partner at the IPB, it was him. Marcia would have thought the man would have asked Penny in on the whole thing. For that matter they should have set Christian up too and maybe gotten Mark to stand outside and check on them if anything started to happen. Not asking them was kind of foolish, she realized in hindsight.

  At mid-night exactly, almost as if the event was timed, he walked through the door of the Blue Boat, wearing a Cuban style shirt that was light blue and white baggy pants that would let him hide any weapons he might have. At first she didn’t recognize him at all. He looked horrible. Fat, for one thing. Not just a few pounds gained over the decades like most people did, but a good hundred and twenty over the last time she’d seen him. He clearly hadn’t shaved for a week or more either, even though it couldn’t be comfortable for him in the heat and moisture that Miami seemed to hold this time of year.

  He didn’t act surprised to see them and didn’t scan the room half as carefully as the others had at all, walking over to them with a small wave. He settled carefully, but had a tired air to his movements, like exhaustion wasn’t far away. It could happen on missions when you were going it alone or with a small crew. You had to sleep to keep sharp, but being unconscious for hours at a time meant you might miss something too. Normally people used drugs to make up the difference, but if Cal was on speed it wasn’t working anymore.