Madness

by Bill Wetterman

  #

  Back in her living quarters near the White House, Peacock turned on the shower to clean the grime of the day off her and blacked out. Sometime later, her mind jarred back to consciousness. How long had she stood letting the water run down her body? Images of a man struggling with her in some past battle floated in the air around her. She swung her arms as she had then, striking her enemy, killing again, and feeling the pleasure of it. Inside her head, pain and pleasure mixed, then she managed to shut off the shower, slide down to the floor, and lose consciousness again.

  Chapter 7

  Grandayatollah al-Sistani finished his evening prayers. He had made plans to relocate into southwestern Iran. He’d execute those plans tomorrow. As devastating as the earthquakes northeast of Tehran were, the Russian dogs still waged all-out war. What countries could Iran rely on? China voted against the Iranian Nuclear Program. His conversations with their leaders indicated Chinese neutrality would prevail unless attacked.

  He had thought of a strike on Israel, but he couldn’t afford their retaliating with Russia bearing down on him. North Korea would help if Israel was the target, but North Korea could not strike Israel with any accuracy. Moreover, North Korea feared Russia. Would they come to the aid of the Iranians? He dialed General Jafarzadeh. “If we concentrate our attack on the Russians while they are still near Turkmenistan, what result would we have?”

  “Short term, we’d hurt them badly,” Jafarzadeh said. “Long term, they’d hit Tehran and other major cities with air strikes and missile attacks. Their movements say we’ve been their target all along.”

  “Can our long range missiles reach Volgograd?”

  “Yes.”

  “I give you permission to order missile strikes against Russian troops along the Caspian Sea and the people of the city of Volgograd.” He paused, moistened his lips, and prayed silently. Then he said, “I will go on national radio and issue a plea for every Iranian to defend their homeland by whatever means possible. Attack and defend every inch of Iranian soil.”

  “Allah Akbar.”

  “Allah Akbar.”

  #

  Pendleton turned up the sound with his remote as he and Milton Rogers ate dinner in Roger’s suite at the Widder Hotel. Pictures from Russian television showed the chaos in Volgograd. Over a hundred Scud missiles had hit the area around the city in the past hour.

  “They’re fighting the battle of Stalingrad all over again,” Rogers bemoaned, “Only a Twenty-First Century version of it, Scud missiles and all.”

  Pendleton sipped his tea in relative comfort. “I warned Latovsky over a year ago not to push the timetable. ‘It would be foolish to strike without my support,’ I said. ‘And of course, the support of a United Nation led by Britain and the E.U. Jump too soon and you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to have.’”

  “I think he’s found that to be the case,” Rogers said. “When do you plan on firing the American space-based systems?”

  “Not until I receive an answer from Monroe.” Pendleton dipped a piece of bread in an olive oil and garlic mix. “The American people are terrified and fearful of an economic collapse. Los Angeles, Chicago, and now New York have extensive looting going on. In a matter of days, Congress will be pleading with him to accept my offer.”

  “And if his answer is no?”

  “Well, there’s an answer for that as well.”

  #

  Peacock packed her gear for her trek to kill Thomas Reed. She recalled every detail of her last encounter with the man. From the faces of her team members to the terrain surrounding the house, her mind reacted as though she was there. She visualized her son and holding him in her arms. Pain exploded deep inside her brain.

  How she endured and defused the pain, she couldn’t explain. In her mind, thoughts traveled wildly bringing images from pleasure centers and from serene scenes to lustful encounters. Her emotions numbed the shocks and she recovered.

  I can control Kolb’s attacks. She will not win.

  #

  Thomas Reed shut off the security system surrounding his communications equipment and slid underneath its platform. He replaced a key component. He hated repairs. He wasn’t a technician and worried about making mistakes. His new home north of A-199 near Haddington duplicated the old one in Lasswade right down to the bedspread. Sadly, he destroyed that home to keep Hercules from obtaining valuable equipment. Most unfortunately, he’d forgotten the diagrams in the damn file cabinet, and Hercules found out about the plans to shoot down Monroe’s helicopter.

  Repairs finished, he phoned Alan Loomis. “Pendleton said, if Monroe doesn’t accept his proposal, kill him.”

  “Things worldwide are ripping along. Are you sure he wants me to wait on Monroe?”

  “That’s what he said. Apparently he’s given Monroe until tomorrow night to respond.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “And that is?”

  “Did you know Pendleton’s wife is my partner?”

  “What!”

  “Another agent was assigned at the same time I was assigned. Her name is Laverna Smythe. I remembered Van Meer mentioned the name of Pendleton’s wife. To be sure, I looked her up. She’s Pendleton’s wife or she’s a damn good imposter.”

  “Let me call you back.”

  Reed stumbled to a chair and dialed Pendleton.

  “I’m having dinner, Thomas,” Pendleton said. “This better be urgent.”

  “Our agent on Monroe’s team tells me that your wife is his partner. Is it true?”

  The long silence caused Reed’s hands to tremble. The world as he knew it was collapsing around him. Being on Pendleton’s bad side now could become a death sentence.

  “You will keep my wife’s position secret. Tell Loomis if one hair on her head is harmed he’ll answer to me for it.”

  Reed gulped, but spoke his mind. “With all due respect Sir, Loomis is our answer to the Monroe problem. If your wife interferes, what shall I tell him to do?”

  He heard Pendleton excuse himself and leave wherever he was. “Two missed assassination attempts, accusing my wife of betrayal, and now asking me what Loomis should do. Protect her. Tell him to say, ‘Lovey, Arthur says, ‘Kill Kolb and let me do my job.’ Let me be very specific. Loomis is not to harm her.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m loyal to you, whether you fired me or not. I say what must be said.”

  The click of Pendleton disconnecting the call startled him, and he remembered how his former boss had murdered Throgmorton. A sickening pall fell upon him. He relayed the message to Loomis.

  “Roger that,” Loomis said. “But explain to me how I should manage this without her killing me. Handling her is messy and damned near impossible as it is. The woman is one tough cookie.”

  Reed didn’t answer. He slumped down in his chair. All the money he’d made, the killings he’d authorized and carried out, and the cause he thought was right, now crushed him against the reality of the moment. The sound of his chair rattling on the tile floor played on his nerves. He was a dead man one way or the other. Either Pendleton would send Van Meer to kill him, or Pendleton’s wife would. His time on this earth was at an end.

  Pendleton was about to take over the world, and Reed wouldn’t be needed once that happened.

  God help us all.

  Chapter 8

  “Are you ready to jump?” the chopper pilot said, as Peacock steadied herself. “We’re at 2,300 feet, ground speed 130 mph, you’re good to go.”

  “Looks like crops and fields down there.”

  “We’re over Harperdean now. Don’t fret. There’s a hospital eight kilometers northeast.”

  “Ha, ha, President Monroe isn’t looking for publicity now is he.”

  “I’ll pick you up where you land in three hours, no more, no less.”

  “Got it.”

  Peacock checked her watch and her compass and tumbled out of the chopper. She pulled the cord at 1600 feet and floated serenely toward the ground.
She wished she could hit a pause button and stay suspended above the earth forever, but that was not to be. Her feet touched down at seven p.m. on a clear April evening. Her position sat four-tenths of a kilometer to the southwest of Reed’s home. She ditched her chute and jumpsuit, strapped her weapon belt around her waist, and headed for a footpath that ran northeast. If she had the time when she returned, she’d bury her equipment.

  Dusk brought with it a chilly breeze. The scent of fertilizer and fresh cut grass seemed strangely familiar. Three glances at her compass and fifteen minutes later, she topped a hill and glimpsed Reed’s house. A sudden shiver filled her. Memories of racing through a tunnel, an explosion, and the communications device in her head malfunctioning flooded in on her. She knew the layout of this house.

  The only difference between the Lasswade home and this one was the seclusion element. Here the woods were thinner and the approach open. Nowhere could she hide. She sat down on the top of the hill and ran possible scenarios in her mind. There was one vehicle and no garage. He had to be home.

  The British were no longer America’s allies. There would be no friendly release if she were caught.

  “Any signs of life inside?” she asked command.

  “Satellite’s been watching the house for ten hours. There have been two deliveries and no one has come outside.”

  “All right, I’m ahead of schedule. I’m going to observe for a few minutes. Then I’m going to walk down and pay Mr. Reed a visit.”

  “You’re just going to wander up?”

  “I’m dressed in jeans. My weapons are inside my belt. No one’s going to tip Reed off. As far as he knows, this place is a secret. Besides, if I wait until dark, I might miss my ride home and have to hitch my way to London.”

  “You’ll be in the open.”

  She didn’t answer. There was a set of windows along both the floors on the east side of the house. If she backed down the hill, walked over to the path going around the left side of the hill, and followed the path down to the house, she’d appear to be a native on a walk.

  No sense wasting time if she wanted to see her son. This was the way to earn that right. Five minutes later, she executed her plan and moved down to the house in full sight of anyone who might be looking. There was no movement by a window, no sound, only the chirping of birds and the rustling of the trees in the wind.

  She reached the steps and rang the bell, wondering why she knew she was safe. There was no answer, not a movement or a light on. She checked the door again for a bomb. There could be a trigger weapon readied if she opened the door. She tried the knob and the door creaked open as she rolled sideways off the porch. Nothing happened.

  Peacock rose and slipped inside. She heard someone say. “Who did Pendleton send?”

  The voice came from upstairs. “I’m not armed. Is that you Van Meer? You would be my choice.”

  Peacock’s eyes adjusted to the dim light. She slipped up the stairs, pulled out her gun, and flipped on the lights as she entered Reed’s communications lab. A man sat facing away from her.

  “Are you Thomas Reed?”

  His hand twitched. “And you must be Laverna Smythe Pendleton. So the Americans got here first.” Reed swung around as Peacock placed the muzzle of her gun against his temple. “I’m no threat to you, Laverna. Please sit down. Before you kill me, I have some things to tell you.”

  “Stand up,” she yelled. She searched his pockets, pulled out his cellphone, and checked his recent calls. “Why were you sitting here in the dark?”

  “I’m a doomed man. Indirectly, you’re the reason. Please, let me fix you a cup of tea.”

  “Why are you so calm? You were shaking when I came upstairs.”

  “Resignation. Once I’m dead, I won’t have to worry about someone killing me anymore.”

  He didn’t look like the mastermind of the Sons of Tiw. Thin, immaculately clean, and soft spoken, Thomas Reed under impressed her. Tea wasn’t on her agenda. Information, however, was.

  “Sit back down.” She grabbed a chair and pulled it up in front of him. “When you’re dead, I’m going to search your house. You can save me a lot of time if you tell me what I want to know now.”

  “The total organization of The Sons of Tiw is in my cabinet to your right. Take it. The list makes no difference now. Pendleton’s already put his plans into action.” Reed smiled a warm friendly smile. “Looking at you, I can see why Arthur loves you. He’d give up everything for you, my dear. Why did you betray him?”

  An agonizing pain almost split open her head. Her breathing quickened to a panting. “I never betrayed him.”

  “But you did. You killed Philip Martin. You gave the secrets for the assassination of Monroe to Hercules.”

  The headache increased. Reed was right. She had betrayed Pendleton.

  “Helen of Troy was the face that launched a thousand ships.” Reed reached out and brushed back a few hairs from her forehead. “Yours, my dear, is the face that will launch a thousand missiles. Without your betrayal, Monroe would be dead now, and America would be marching with us.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She stared at her hand, the gun still pointed at Reed. Madness raged within her. Images and emotions, not thoughts, swirled around. Missiles fired, world capitols disintegrated, her mind cried out. There’s still time to stop this.

  Then Reed’s kindly face reappeared in front of her. “You’re here to steal our secrets again. Even knowing you’ll betray him, Pendleton instructs me if I harm a hair on your head, I will die. I hope you sleep well.”

  Her mission was to find out what the assassination plot was and stop it. Yes, Ursa and Monroe put her there to betray Pendleton. Pictures flashed throughout her mind of happy times with her husband, riding through the German countryside, laughing on a hill at Balmoral. The pain increased. The more she remembered the more pain she experienced.

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Let me share a little wisdom. I vowed on my life to defend The Sons of Tiw. I believed in Pendleton’s solution to the world’s problems. I still do. However, I’ve lost my team. I presume you killed Lytle and the information you stole killed Morgan and Dunn.”

  Sweat trickled into her eyes. She quickly wiped the sweat off. His next statement caused nausea and acid belched into her throat. An explosion rocked her mind mightier than Kolb’s device could handle.

  “I’m dying as I lived,” Reed said, “believing a dream. Yet in the end, no one’s right. No one’s wrong. He who executes his plan wins, and all other dreamers vanish. When Arthur Pendleton saves you, my dear, spend the rest of your life thinking of those who. . .”

  She pulled the trigger repeatedly even after the chamber was long empty. Then she grabbed the blade from her belt and stabbed at Reed’s lifeless body until she couldn’t raise her arms. In her final act, she snatched The Sons of Tiw list out of Reed’s cabinet.

  Screaming like the lunatic she was, she ran down the stairs and out into the night, her head pounding and her heart racing. She reached the drop site and buried the chute and jumpsuit. The chopper arrived on schedule and she boarded.

  “Have a successful trip,” the pilot asked.

  She glared at him and said nothing. Peacock knew what she had to do. Once back home, she’d do it.

  Five hours later, the plane sent by the president landed in Washington D.C. Peacock disembarked. She scanned the hanger area and the position of the limos waiting for her. She handed Reed’s list to the agent at the foot of the steps. Instead of heading for the limousine sent for her, she bolted straight for the follow-car.

  “What’s she doing?” she heard someone yell.

  Peacock opened the follow-car’s door and hurled the driver out before anyone thought to act. She leaped behind the steering wheel and floored the accelerator. She sped out and away from the airport.

  “Peacock, abort your plan.”

  She ignored Polaris’s voice in her head. Instead, she slammed the scar tissue at the back of her ear wit
h her fist, until Polaris’s voice turned to faint static. She wasn’t going back to Hercules. She wasn’t going back to Monroe, or to Pendleton, or to her home in Bethesda. All she wanted to do was kill. Not for Pendleton and not for Monroe, she was going to kill her enemies and stop the missile launches—every one of them.

  Chapter 9

  “The device is firing at random,” Polaris yelled. “She’s not responding to the shocks. Her mind’s subconsciously selecting her pathway, and she’s following along by instinct.”

  Kolb’s tampering ran contrary to Polaris’s beliefs. Freedom of personal choice ranked at the top for him. Freedom topped the ideals America stood for. He loved dealing with Peacock when her implant acted only as a communications device, but Kolb crossed the line with neurological stimulation.

  As Polaris evaluated what was and wasn’t working, Nyugen put a call in to Kolb.

  She’s with Major at his home, Polaris thought. She won’t respond.

  “All right, Polaris.” Nyugen grumped after his unsuccessful attempt to talk to Kolb. “Can you track her?”

  “Negative. I am able to monitor the sections of her brain that are firing off. I can’t hear what she hears anymore, and she’s not responding to me.”

  “What was the last thing she said with her sound unit working?”

  Polaris played back the tape.

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “After the shots, all I hear is screaming, gasping, and the sounds of her leaving the house. She doesn’t say a word until she arrives back in Washington. Then she must have somehow disabled the sound unit.”

  “Not a word since then?”

  “No. She’s done something to the audio mechanism. But even with the speech implant destroyed, we should be able to control her with brainwave signals and force her to return here.”

  #

  Nyugen trembled at the idea of a rogue agent with Peacock’s capabilities. He examined her brain monitor and shook his head. The recorder drew a picture of what he never thought possible, “She exhibits amazing cognitive flexibility. Her abstract thinking. . .” Nyugen hesitated. “By her actions, Peacock and the probe are thinking in unison, neither ruling the other, hence the increased activity in the frontal lobe, the hypothalamus, and the hypophyseal portal system.”