Light Plays: Book Two of The Light Play Trilogy

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Light Plays: Book Two of The Light Play Trilogy Page 10

by N. D. Hansen-Hill


  * * * *

  “Hylton's ordered a code one conference in room 105,” Johnson told Simon. “He told me to make sure you were there.”

  Simon grinned. Johnson was built like a rhino. Johnson would see that he got there, all right. Even if he had to drag him in. Hylton was guessing that Simon would be too smart to need the latter.

  Johnson went on, “He says he needs your talents.”

  “Bullshit and larceny? Or infiltration and insinuation?”

  Johnson smiled. “Damned if I know. It has something to do with Denaro.” He hesitated, then asked quietly, “What I want to know is why he sent me. What's going on between you and Hylton?”

  “Let's just say there's been a little friction. Lockmann's been a friend of mine for years.”

  “That's what I heard. Did he know what you did for a living?”

  “No. But he sure as hell does now.”

  Johnson laughed, and his big guffaws echoed in the hallway. “Jesus! You sure got yourself in the middle of it. How does it feel to be walking on shit all the time?”

  Simon was grinning. “It's messy. And it doesn't look like it's going to be cleaned up any time soon.”

  “You coming?” Johnson asked. “Or do you need some persuasion?”

  “Wouldn't miss it for all the flames in Hades.”

  Johnson laughed again.

  Some of the friction between Kerrington and Hylton was of long standing. Simon had discovered there were only two ways to work within the system and keep any semblance of a conscience: you could either blindly follow the orders of someone like Hylton, and let him do your thinking for you; or you could circumvent the system whenever your conscience required it. Simon did the latter, but he knew that most of the people he worked with leaned toward the former: let Hylton do their rationalising for them. It was easier, it was cleaner, and it was a whole lot less informed. Simon had tried it, when he first started at the DSO, but he'd had trouble sleeping nights. The ludicrous thing was, it had been Rick who'd helped him find a way around it.

  Simon wasn't lying when he'd said Rick hadn't known who employed him. What Rick had noticed, and what had surprised Simon at the time, was how worry was getting him down. Rick had always been like that: he'd lose himself in his research for days at a time, but he'd notice the little things that nobody else did. Maybe, Simon thought wryly, it's because Rick's used to working with the minute, so he notices what everyone else is trying to hide. Rick hadn't pried, but he'd wanted to help.

  Simon had told him that some of the things he was being asked to do were getting to him. For all Rick knew, Simon could have been dealing drugs, or stealing cars, or doing porn movies, but Rick didn't make any judgement calls or ask what the hell he'd gotten himself into. All he'd done was say with a smile, “Where the hell's your sense of humour, Simon? You've always been able to circumvent things you didn't want to do.” The other thing he'd said was, “You're a damn sneaky bastard when you want to be. Use it, so you can sleep nights.” It wasn't much, but it had been enough to put things back in perspective for him. It was also the first time he'd let on that his work might deal with the darker side of human nature, and yet Rick hadn't even suggested he try to do something else. Nor had he turned away, when Simon needed to talk.

  Most of Simon's problems had arisen out of his opposition to Hylton's policies on assassination. It was when those policies looked like they were going to include Richard Lockmann, that Simon had become openly hostile.

  Simon had brought the DSO into this, because duty told him it was a situation requiring their attention, and he knew they'd need the help of professionals to get Rick back. None of them had counted on Rick's own contributions to his rescue.

  The conflicts between Simon and Hylton had continued, even after any possibility of Rick's “termination” had been set aside. Prolonging Rick's existence wasn't the same as saving Rick's life. Simon had done everything in his power to ensure that Rick still had a life to go back to. “Everything” in one instance, had included a left hook to Hylton's jaw. Simon had thought he was terminating his own contract at the time; that his conflicts with Hylton had finally become insurmountable. Steven Hylton was unlikely to forget that one of his subordinates had used force against him.

  But, for some reason, Simon was still employed. It had made him wonder whether Hylton was secretly sympathetic to Rick's case, and had appreciated the opposition because it gave him an “out". Hell, Rick had saved Steven's life, too—even though he must have suspected that the cost of success might be his own incarceration. Whereas before, Richard Lockmann had been a case subject, in those minutes of blood, gore, and suffering at Genetechnic, he'd not only become very real to the people who now watched over him, but someone deserving of their respect.

  Simon thought back, and his fist tingled as he remembered the punch that had flattened Hylton. He'd been so weak from blood loss that he shouldn't have been able to lay out a kitten, let alone someone of Hylton's formidable abilities. At the time, Simon had thought he'd taken the man by surprise. Now, he thought, grinning wryly, he wasn't so sure. Maybe Hylton agreed with him more than he was willing to admit. It helped that neither of them had mentioned it since. In those tense moments of shock and terror, only Steven Hylton would have known that Simon was responsible for his short trip to the hard floor—other than Simon's friends. Not for the first time, Simon was relieved that Cole hadn't been there. Subtlety wasn't exactly Cole's specialty. He might feel he had to rub salt into Hylton's wounded pride.

  Simon wondered what his co-workers at the DSO made of his reaction to Hylton's methods where they concerned Rick. Certainly, since that time, Simon had resisted Hylton openly whenever his orders had conflicted with Rick's well-being and peace of mind. Simon hadn't made the judgement calls on his own, either—just in case some innate resentment of his employer's authority was directing his actions, he'd always made certain to check with Jace, or Sheryl Matthews, or Cole, for their opinions. On other matters he'd had Eric Sterner and Phillip Rutgers to back him up. It had irritated the hell out of Hylton, who wasn't accustomed to his operatives countermanding his orders, but Hylton hadn't reacted the way Simon expected. Simon had assumed it had been for logistical reasons: Kerrington's friendship with Lockmann gave the DSO an inside connection they otherwise wouldn't have had. Now, he wondered: was Steven relying on him to act as his conscience, where Rick was concerned? To let him know whether his charge was finding things too coercive? It put a new light on Hylton's personality, and explained a lot about his newfound patience where Simon was concerned.

  Right now, Simon felt that he owed Hylton one. Despite their disagreements, Hylton had managed to manipulate things so that Rick could remain in his own home. That kind of decision had taken guts—the powers-that-be could have come down hard on him for the expense and manpower of defending an essentially indefensible location. The only things standing between Richard Lockmann and capture or coercion were the agents Hylton had assigned to the job.

  For weeks now, Simon had looked at the situation askance—had considered Hylton's motives suspect. Until today, he hadn't been able to figure out a damn good reason for Hylton to allow Rick to return to his old life, unless it was some kind of personal gratitude thing, for saving their butts. Or maybe some form of reverse psychology: holding on to Rick by appearing to give him the freedom he craved.

  Simon wondered how much Hylton trusted him—Simon—now. Probably not at all, when it came to his personal loyalties to Rick Lockmann and his other friends. But, Simon had been pretty open in his resentment, in hopes that Hylton would appreciate his attempt to level with him. Despite his sarcasm and occasional belligerence, Simon enjoyed working for Hylton. But, in the same way that he sensed Hylton didn't trust him, Simon knew he couldn't totally trust Steven Hylton. Simon would trust the man with his own life—he just couldn't trust him with Rick's.

  Simon had a quip riding on the tip of his tongue, when he and Johnson walked into 105. He swallowed the nasty little rema
rk when he saw the look of stress on Steven Hylton's face. Whatever had happened recently, Simon knew how much he owed Steven. Hell, the man had trained him and been his sponsor. When he'd run into trouble, Steven had always made sure he had back-up to bail him out. Well, it looked like Steven was the one who needed back-up now. Simon's muscles tensed.

  “We have a situation,” Hylton began. “We received a report a few days ago that someone has stolen some of Caroline Denaro's remains from one of FOCUS’ storage sites.”

  There was a collective gasp, which was slightly shocking in itself. Most of the people in this room could be considered hardened professionals. Very little should have shocked them after what they'd seen.

  Simon asked bluntly, “Which parts?”

  “Her ovaries,” Steven replied. “Nothing else seems to have been touched.”

  “Who did it?”

  Steven shook his head. “We're not sure. The word's out that Tazo Raeiti may have been involved. For those of you unfamiliar with the name, access file Crng101. I want everyone to review Gsy649, along with the isolation manuals. Double check your procedures with Doctor Rodrigal.” He looked directly at Simon. “Kerrington, I want to see you alone after this session.” His view widened, to include them all. “See me for assignments after you've accessed the appropriate files. That will be all.”

  * * * *

  “Rodrigal says your shoulder's still not a hundred percent. Matthews concurs.”

  “Nice to know everyone's got my welfare in mind. It'll hold.”

  “What about your weapons rating?”

  “Around seventy percent. Like the shoulder.”

  Hylton's tones were clipped. “Raeiti's name turned up an hour ago, in one of the memos from the Cliatso Project. If they've got the ovaries, I want you to find out where they are—before they get broken up and dispersed. We also want to know why they were so specific.”

  “I could make an educated guess.”

  “Don't. Rodrigal claims there are other viruses just as lethal. He also tells me it actually would have been better to clone her from one of her somatic cells. He can't figure out why they bothered with her ovaries.”

  “I'll need auxiliary computer access, for an information feed.”

  “I'll have someone on line at Shatterly. I'm also sending a team to Rathmore, so you'll have back-up. Before you go, stop and see Rodrigal for a dose of antibodies. But, if you have to get close, get some gear on.”

  Simon hesitated. “What about Jace?”

  Hylton knew what he was asking. “You think I might take advantage of your absence to terminate him?”

  “It crossed my mind. If this wasn't Denaro we were talking about—”

  “Your presence—or lack of it—doesn't alter the situation, Kerrington. For the moment, Stratton's a good test subject for the anti-serum.”

  Simon looked unhappy, but he nodded. It was all Hylton was going to admit to, so it would have to be enough.

  “I need someone to infiltrate Cliatso, and you're the sneakiest bastard on my list, even though you have a real attitude problem.”

  “I just don't like waste.”

  Hylton nodded. “And I don't like arguments. If you want the truth, Kerrington, I'd like nothing more than to return your little jawbreaker, but I'd prefer to think you were delirious from pain, and didn't know who you were hitting.” His raised one eyebrow and grinned. “Don't disillusion me. For your own sake.”

  “I'll let you know if I feel any more delirium coming on.”

  “Good idea. If it happens again, you'll have more than delirium to worry about.” Hylton glanced at his watch. “There's a car waiting for you downstairs. Rodrigal first, then briefing, documentation, tags, bags, weapons. Watch your back.”

  “What are you going to tell Rick?”

  “Nothing. Other than it was time you got your lazy ass back to work.”

  “What about the security problems?”

  “Two out of three incidents involved deliveries. He's not taking any more. We are.”

  Simon was still uncomfortable. He was adept at reading undercurrents, and something big was just beneath the surface here—something Hylton wasn't talking about. He stared at him for a moment longer, then realised there was no point: Steven had told him all he was going to. “I'll be back soon,” he said.

  It came out like a warning.

  Chapter Seven

  “Doctor Matthews, we need to talk.”

  “About what?” She sounded cautious, and for a moment, Steven Hylton regretted what he was about to do. She'd feel like a fool when she found out. He knew it wouldn't take her long to put two and two together.

  “As you know, Dr. Rodrigal has taken over Stratton's case. He's requested some information on the virus from an agency in Whiting. Apparently, they have an abundance in hard copy, and Denis won't have the time to go through it all to retrieve the information we need. I'd like to send you to select the pertinent files.”

  She frowned. Something didn't sound right, but she didn't know what it was. Maybe he's just the kind to trigger suspicion, she thought. It might be part of his nature to act like a sneaky bastard. “What if Denis needs help?”

  “Then he has someone much more qualified in virology than you, Doctor. Phillip Rutgers can fill the gaps.”

  “My other patients?”

  “Already taken care of.”

  She was angry at his presumption, but he sealed her decision with, “Denis is concerned because Stratton's case is so advanced.”

  Because I didn't bother to notice he was sick—

  “Any information you can get will help.” He added, “I have a helicopter waiting downstairs, and we've booked a hotel room for you.”

  “You think of everything, don't you?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Just about,” he said.

  * * * *

  “He wants to send me some place called Shatterly,” Cole told Rick enthusiastically. “It's my first assignment for the DSO.” His face sobered. “I told him no. Not with Jace so sick and all.”

  “Did you tell Simon?”

  Cole shook his head. “I don't know where he is. I called his house, but all I got was his machine. I haven't seen him for hours. How's Jace?”

  “The same. Sleeping. He said this morning it's the headache that's really getting him down. Rutgers thinks he may have some neurological involvement.”

  Cole frowned. “How bad is that?”

  “Bad. They've given him some of the anti-serum, but they won't know for a while if it works.”

  “Rick—don't take offence—but is Jace going to change? The way you did?”

  “Jesus, I hope not.” Rick looked mournful. “I feel so damn guilty, Cole. He picked this up because he was trying to help me.”

  “Yeah, but he wouldn't have been Jace if he hadn't tried to help you. It's not your fault. It wasn't like you did a Denaro or anything—I mean, you weren't running around, looking for victims to infect.”

  “That doesn't make me feel a whole lot better, when I picture him lying in that bed upstairs.”

  Cole gripped his arm. “Then picture this,” he said. “When he gets better, it'll be because of your blood flowing through his veins—or at least the antibodies produced by your body. On the night of the storm, when you thought Jace might have been hit by lightning, you were the first one there—and you were the one who carried him back to the car. Jace won't forget things like that, Rick. Any more than any of us will forget the night you saved us from Denaro.”

  “But you were already there saving me.”

  Cole grinned. “Well, maybe it got a little confused. Jace'll be okay,” he said firmly. “You've got to believe that.”

  “And you've got to grab this chance to save the world.”

  Cole looked confused.

  “This job for Hylton. How long did he say it would take?”

  “A day or two.”

  “Then you should go.”

  Cole looked obstinate. “I don't think so
.”

  “You can't go in and visit Jace,” Rick argued. “I'm the only one of us who's allowed to do that. If you miss this opportunity, it'll drive you crazy.” He clinched it with, “Jace won't even know you're gone. I won't tell him. For all he knows, you could be waiting out in the hallway. You'll just be a few hours and a hallway away.”

  Rick knew how badly Cole had been wanting this. After that night at Genetechnic, Cole had begun to hate the dull day-to-day grind of his job, despite the bonuses in female companionship. After finding out what Simon did for a living, Cole's own job couldn't begin to compare.

  “Besides,” Rick added, “since you can't do anything for Jace, you might as well be doing something for someone else.”

  “Put that way, I'd be damned selfish not to offer Hylton my help if he needs it.”

  Rick suppressed a grin. “Damned selfish.”

  “In that case, I'm going.” He surprised Rick by yanking him over and giving him a rough hug. “You take care of yourself while I'm gone.” Cole turned and almost jogged to the elevator.

  As the doors were closing, Rick yelled to him. “Don't worry about a thing! I'll be right here—”

  The doors closed, and at almost the same moment, Rick felt a hand on his arm, and the sharp jab of a needle. “No, Dr. Lockmann,” a voice said in his ear. “You won't.”

  * * * *

  “I'm going to have to restrict his movements. If they're playing around with the virus, they'll want anti-serum to protect themselves.”

  Geraldo grunted. “I thought the Lightning Boys were getting spread a little thin.”

  “Is that a criticism, Geraldo?”

  “Merely an observation—Sir.”

  Hylton gave a wry grin. “Kerrington's on assignment.”

  David Geraldo grimaced. “A goddamned awful one, from what I heard. Half the staff is hoping he doesn't need back-up.” He didn't say which half he was in. He hesitated, then said, “This decision to confine Lockmann—is that why you shipped out Calloway?”

  Steven could read the disapproval in the other man's voice. It was obvious that Geraldo wasn't happy with his decision. That was the problem with monitoring your work too closely—it all became too personal. Another reason to confine Lockmann: they wouldn't need such close interaction with the man.

 

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