Madness

by Bill Wetterman

  Nyugen’s cell rang. “Yes.”

  “This is Kolb. Why the hell are you bothering me?”

  “Our train has run away. Without a blood test I can’t be sure, but I believe Peacock’s hypothalamus is malfunctioning, and our implant and her id have bonded to allow that to happen.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Her emotions fly off the scale, anger soars, and her sex drive runs wild. She fights resetting back to normal. Her heart rate is 115. Yet she’s cognitive and thinks abstractly. You tell me.”

  Only the sound of Kolb hyperventilating hissed in Nyugen’s ears. He continued, “What happens if we shut our equipment down?”

  “Two things—both bad,” Kolb said. “The backup sensors will deteriorate in forty-eight hours. She’ll continue with whatever her plan is. Second, we won’t be able to help bring her down from the extremes as we did when she was screwing Pendleton. We need her back in the lab, alive and subdued. We need to help her remain as normal as possible for the sake of the research.”

  “All right, are you coming to work?”

  “Not yet, I’m calling Ursa Minor.”

  #

  The city of Tabriz smoldered around him as Latovsky trotted down the steps of the helicopter that had transported him there. He played nice with the media, hoping to appease the people of Volgograd by his quick action.

  “The Russian people fully support our efforts,” he said. “The conflicts within the region from India to the Mediterranean Sea have too long unsettled our world. We’re putting an end to the struggle of those who want freedom in this area.”

  He waved reporters away and strolled amidst the rubble along a major highway in Tabriz. A Russian soldier, head wrapped with a bloody bandage and his arm in a sling, hopped up onto the back of a medic unit truck as Latovsky approach and waved to him. “How were you injured?” Latovsky asked.

  The soldier cocked his head. “I’m ashamed to say. Three women armed with kitchen knives attacked my team during a house search. I shot people armed with broken bottles, hammers—one man killed our communication officer with a sledgehammer. Everyone is my enemy.”

  Latovsky hugged the man. “I am not.”

  The man saluted.

  “We have enough pictures, Serge,” his Chief of Staff said and led him back to his helicopter. As they boarded for the flight back to Russian territory, he added. “According to Intelligence, Tehran is burning, and al-Sistani has fled.”

  “He may be in hiding with his people in southeastern Iran,” Latovsky answered as the chopper lifted off the ground. “How are our forces doing after the missile attacks along the Caspian Sea?”

  “When new equipment and men arrived by way of the Caspian, we cleared the earthquake area and moved on.” He opened a map. “Our main force is heading toward Ahvaz and the Persian Gulf, The other is joining with our forces south of Tabriz and heading to Baghdad. We expect the same heavy resistance and severe numbers of casualties.”

  Casualties—Latovsky remembered Afghanistan as a young man. Russian casualties ran high. Yet today he’d received good news. War weary and impoverished, Pakistan and India declared neutrality under pressure from Pendleton. Latovsky would not have to look east for trouble.

  Keep pressing ahead, he thought. Israel and Jerusalem were only a week away.

  #

  Arthur Pendleton’s London headquarters sparkled. He had the furnishings replaced and the office cleaned for picture taking. Handpicked staffers photographed his Zurich and London locations for viewing when he delivered his speech to the world introducing the Global Realm.

  Pendleton waited for Sir Jarvis Franks to take his seat.

  “Sorry, old boy, the control team and Professor Cline were arguing about coordinate settings.”

  Pendleton bit down on his lower lip. “Another problem, Sir Jarvis?”

  “Nothing major. Directing the missiles to new targets requires precision, and Cline speaks above the heads of most of our people.”

  Pendleton nodded. He didn’t need another problem. Loomis had reported his wife suspiciously absent. Calls to Reed went unanswered. Neither of the two situations endangered the mission, except in his ability to focus on the now. “Let’s review the timetable.”

  He pointed at Milton Rogers, who stood and addressed this group. Present were Rogers, Franks, British Prime Minister Lodge, and Victor Romanoff representing both Latovsky and Pendleton’s group of twelve administrators. “Everything proceeds tomorrow night, eleven p.m. Eastern Standard Time.” Rogers checked his watch. “Thirty-two hours from now.”

  “The timing must be precise,” Pendleton said. “The watches you have are programmed to run in sync. Press Adjust every eight hours to reset the few microseconds’ difference. Press Adjust now for a starting point.”

  “The first target is Monroe.” Rogers adjusted his watch. “He met with members of Congress today behind closed doors. He is supposed to go before the nation tomorrow and make a speech. If he agrees to Arthur’s offer, Arthur will meet with him at the White House and include him in our plans.”

  “If not?” Romanoff asked.

  “Agent Loomis will kill him tomorrow at eleven in the evening.”

  Pendleton politely raised his hand. His Lovey was in the United States. Levi had a team prepared to operate on her after a thorough medical evaluation. Loomis was the last person within Pendleton’s circle to see her. “I’m leaving after this meeting and heading to the States. As the next part of our plan unfolds, I will control it from there.”

  “And that next part is critical.” Rogers handed out a set of maps. “Sir Jarvis, could you do the honors.”

  Hand to his moustache, Franks rose and said, “As of today, the spy networks of Europe, including MI6 and the Russian Secret Service, have joined with The Sons of Tiw to form one unified agency.”

  He opened his set of maps. “The unified Global Security team will simultaneously strike heads of state clearly in opposition to our plans for peace, specifically, the United States, as mentioned, Canada, Saudi Arabia, Venezuela, Jordan, South Africa, and Israel, to name a few. Latovsky is destroying Iran and Iraq.”

  In tune with his friends, Pendleton discerned both anticipation and fear in the room. Human psychology said the closer one came to taking a necessary, but dangerous step, the stronger the desire to delay taking that step.

  “Serge is making a mess of destroying the others.” Prime Minister Lodge’s face morphed red. “I’ve met with Parliament—a nasty discussion, but effective.”

  “Jolly good reason to feel upset,” Rogers said with a lilt in his voice. “Those boys love their politics. And politics will be a thing of the past.”

  “Politics—a word hopefully never uttered again,” Pendleton said.

  “What about China?” Romanoff asked.

  “For now I’m working out a silent truce,” Pendleton answered.

  “The rest of these maps show why I was late.” Sir Jarvis cleared his throat and shot a glance at Pendleton.

  “They have a need to know,” Pendleton said.

  Franks nodded. “The United States has, as part of Operation Prompt Global Strike, almost a thousand non-nuclear missiles. Each possesses the capability of reducing five city blocks to rubble. These missiles orbit the earth in banks of twenty-five units each.” He pointed to the first of twenty pages. “The first column shows the type of missile, the second shows the target, the third and fourth show the time to fire and the time to impact. Once Monroe is neutralized, Professor Cline and our people will switch the targets and fire the missiles to the locations seen in Column Five.”

  “My God,” Prime Minister Lodge yelped. “Look at the shift. Missiles aimed at China and Russia shift to Iran, Pakistan, North Korea, Israel, Yemen, and North Africa.” His finger pointed to the original U.S. targets. “And what’s this? The Americans originally had forty of those missiles aimed at targets in Europe, England and Germany, specifically, bloody hell.”

  Pendleton ignored Lodg
e. “Mr. Romanoff will give us the aftermath report.”

  “The day after the missile firing, Mister Pendleton will address the world with an ultimatum. The new leaders of the Global Realm will surround him. The message will be simple. Join us or face isolation. Ships en route as we speak will deliver life-sustaining supplies to the hungry in the nations supporting us. He will implement his plan to remove waste, rebuild cities, and re-educate the population on how to improve themselves and the environment.”

  “Not all in one speech, one hopes,” Lodge said.

  “I’ll lay out the plan, yes. But the implementation will take years.” Pendleton rose. “I have an urgent call to make. Keep in mind, Gentlemen, we’ve been preparing this change in government for over a decade. We have materials and supplies in place beyond what you’ve ever dreamed. The whole earth will be transformed in a decade to a paradise unrecognizable today—all for the better.”

  Chapter 10

  How long she’d been unconscious, she couldn’t fathom. The car she was in was unfamiliar, not the car she’d taken from the airport. She recognized her surroundings. She'd parked on the south side of Loomis’s condominium. Yes, she needed information, and Loomis could provide that.

  She abandoned her car, ran to the side entrance, and up to the third floor where Loomis lived. She crouched down in the short hallway by the exit door and waited. After what seemed an eternity, she heard footsteps approaching from the elevator.

  Through the glass Peacock held to see round corners, she observed Loomis, her target, unlocking the door to his living quarters. She cast no shadow from the place she stood. He wouldn’t spot her. She’d been here before and knew Loomis’s work schedule. As he opened his door, which blocked his view of her attack path, she flew around the corner and swung into his room knocking him out with a well-placed fist.

  She tied his hands and feet, emptied his pockets, and searched his room. Pulling the curtains closed, she read the contents of his briefcase. Peculiar, she thought, his calendar had eleven o’clock only twenty-one hours from now circled.

  At the bottom of the calendar was scribbled, Don’t touch Laverna.

  Nothing else of significance was in his briefcase. Which was as it should be for a good double agent.

  She studied the note intently. Reed’s words resounded clearly, “Pendleton instructs me that if a hair on your head is harmed, I will die,”

  The note said, Don’t touch Laverna.

  Her mission had been to discover the plot to kill Monroe. Now she was sure she had. Loomis was to kill Monroe without her interfering. According to his calendar, that would be at eleven o’clock tonight. Names of her targets flashed about in her mind. She’d released herself from pursuing anybody’s enemy but hers. She’d kill Kolb slowly and painfully, and Nyugen simply to remove him as Kolb’s replacement. Major, whom she suspected ordered Ursa to keep her from her son, would be first on her list. Ursa had questions to answer before she decided if he should die. Of course, she’d kill anyone else who got in her way.

  Peacock noticed part of her mind created a thought and another part of her mind reacted and responded to the stimulus. Was she thinking with two parts of her brain at the same time?

  Loomis groaned and tried to roll over.

  “Before I killed Reed, he told me my husband ordered you not to harm me.” She surprised herself hearing the cackle-like tone of her voice.

  Loomis grunted out, “No chance of that now.”

  “Talk to me. You’re not my enemy. In fact, I respect you. What happens when you kill Monroe?”

  “I’m to meet your husband and help him find you.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “How the hell do I know, Laverna? I’m like you. I follow orders.”

  “Not now I don’t. I’m following my own orders.” Her headache spiked. She grabbed her hair and pulled. “Guess as to why he’s looking for me.”

  “He loves you. At least he loves the woman you were before the villains screwed with your head. My guess, he wants to save you and take that probe out.” She pulled Loomis into a sitting position. “You know too much about me.”

  “I’m not a threat. I was a Son of Tiw like you were a Herculean.” He shook his head. “You almost broke my jaw.”

  “I have to take care of my business now, so I can be with my son later.”

  Loomis cocked his head. “What’s that you say?”

  “They took me from my son. I want him back.”

  “And Monroe promised you he’d make that happen. Now what I heard makes sense.”

  “What you heard?”

  Loomis sighed. “Sherman and Monroe headed into the Oval Office after some meeting I didn’t have clearance to go to. The last words I heard were, ’I had to promise she could see her son. I don’t like lying.’”

  Peacock grabbed him by the collar and squeezed. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I am.”

  Monroe now topped her list of enemies. Polaris’s words rang harsh in her head. “Trust no one.”

  Peacock flung a metal-based lamp across the room, sending it smashing into the open bathroom door.

  “I can help you,” Loomis said. “Let me loose. I’m not your enemy.”

  As she untied his hands and feet, her brain fired out of control. The emotional soup from Kolb’s infernal instrument mixed with a need to release energy. Instantly, she panted like a caged animal. She could smell Loomis sweat. Like with Pendleton, her body and mind melded and bent toward gratification. She attacked him.

  #

  Polaris studied his monitor as Nyugen, Ursa, and Kolb, examined Peacock’s readouts. “Heart rate is 120,” Nyugen said. “Brainwave readings are unstable and highly erotic, but not harmful for now.

  “What happened?” Kolb asked, going over the data a third time.

  “Her brainwaves say she was communicating to someone. Something was said and she exploded. She either killed, sexually assaulted that person, or both.”

  Ursa shook his head. “I never should have allowed her to be modified. She was a fine agent left as she was, and you’ve turned her into a maniac. Hercules would have been better off letting her be herself. We’re fighting a losing battle anyway.”

  “What do you mean a losing battle?”

  Ursa remained silent.

  “If you were Peacock, what would you do?” Polaris asked.

  “She wants to see her son. She’ll look for a way to reach him,” Kolb said.

  “Interesting,” Polaris responded. “If I were Peacock, I’d find a way to kill you.”

  Kolb paled. “She’s doing neither right now. I’d say she’s sleeping.”

  “I think you’re in denial. What if Polaris is right? What if she wants revenge?” Ursa pointed a finger at Kolb.

  Kolb stiffened. Her strut and posture always showed confidence. He’d never seen Kolb unsure of herself until now. Watch your opponent’s body language and actions. That’s what his training told him. Bold mannerisms and decisive action defined confidence. Kolb exhibited neither.

  “If Peacock has any unchangeable characteristic, she’s loyal.” Ursa sat on the edge of a workbench and wrote down names. “Even enraged, she finished her assignment and bought back what she could from Reed’s compound. So who has her loyalty?”

  “She’d protect Magnus, Felicia, and her team at Room 1515,” Polaris said.

  “And she’d protect you,” Ursa added. “On her new team, she speaks highly of John Sherman and Agent Loomis.”

  “What about you?” Polaris asked. “Does she still have loyalty to her old boss?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure you’re safe unless you try to harm her. I think we should bring Magnus and Felicia here to protect this unit.”

  Kolb crumbled into a chair and put her head in her hands. “I tried to be her friend.”

  Polaris swiveled his wheelchair away from the monitor. “Bullshit. You wanted to be God. But you’re not.”

  #

  Peacock woke and shot into a
sitting position. Loomis stood naked, his back to her, pouring coffee. She sighed. A feeling of relief filled her. A feeling she hadn’t experienced since making love to Pendleton. She vaguely remembered being unable to shut down her libido until Loomis slapped her. Of course, he paid for the slap but she slept soundly.

  “Pour me one,” she ordered.

  He practically fainted at the sound of her voice.

  She felt amazingly proud of that fact. “Let’s have a cup or two and figure out how to get what we each want. Just remember, Alan, I could kill you and Sherman regardless of your training.”

  “You almost killed me last night.”

  “Well, that’s over.” She wanted him to understand he meant nothing to her but a toy. “When do you report to work?”

  “In two hours,” Loomis said and brought her some coffee. “God, don’t tell Pendleton about our time together.”

  “Humph,” Last night was just sex—a weapon in her arsenal. All Loomis did was allow her to turn her rage into lust. If he hadn’t, he’d be dead. Pendleton left a far greater impact on her when she was with him. He touched her soul and she realized the difference. The device apparently remembered as well, because she didn’t feel pain thinking about Arthur now.

  “You’re not circumcised.”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t affect your performance, but be sure to clean under the foreskin.” Strange, hearing herself say what she was thinking. Another oddity, she had no social compass. If she thought something, the thought easily spilled out of her mouth.

  “Is your son circumcised?” Loomis asked.

  “I don’t know.” Don’t bring up my son. “Let’s get the planning over with.”

  “There are two scenarios,” Loomis said as he plopped down on the bed. “Monroe speaks to the nation in an hour. If Monroe turns America’s military might over to Pendleton when Pendleton arrives here, Pendleton will bring Monroe into our fold and America as well. If not, I’m to kill him.”