Crime Zero (39 page)

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Authors: Michael Cordy

Tags: #Medical, #Fiction, #Criminal psychology, #Technological, #Thrillers, #Technology, #Espionage, #Free will and determinism

BOOK: Crime Zero
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But from the look of horror on Weiss's and McCloud's faces there was no need to say anything.

Executive Suite, San Francisco Airport.

11:47 A.M.

Anger and relief flooded through Madeline Naylor in equal measure: anger that Pamela Weiss had found out about Crime Zero before they could silence Kerr and Decker, but relief that she had made contingency plans. Perhaps Jackson would finish Decker. That would be a bonus. As she packed up the three KREE8 3-D image catchers, she looked out of the window at the main concourse below.

"Cheer up, Ali, it's not the end of the world." She smiled, fingering the remote, which had activated the phage air purifiers. "It's the beginning."

But Alice didn't smile back. "I just wish we hadn't lied. Perhaps we could have convinced Pamela if she still trusted us. If she understood what we were trying to do."

Naylor shook her head. "No way. Pamela was always going to have to be protected from the truth. She's a Democrat, for chrissakes, a liberal. She'd never have gone along with this willingly. But whether she's willing or not, she has no choice now. At least we didn't let her stop us."

It had been Naylor's idea to go into ViroVector before

6:30 A.M. with Alice to set up the Smart Suite and then use their Gold clearance code to exit via one of the two main inspection tunnels beneath the campus to the waiting rental car. They had immediately driven to the airport and taken a private executive suite on the mezzanine level above the main concourse, using one of six valid credit cards Naylor held in different names. With a conference room and adjoining bathroom the suite afforded them total privacy.

Then, using the suite's supplied digital phone socket, Alice had computer linked their laptop and the three KREE8 3-D image catchers to TITANIA so that they could appear to sit in the Smart Suite for their prearranged conference with Pamela.

"Come on, Alice, we've got to get ready. There's no time to worry anymore." Naylor reached into one of the two olive green shoulder bags, which contained everything she would need as a fugitive, and pulled out the sachets of black and auburn hair dyes and new contact lenses. Perhaps in a few years, when the dust had settled, the world would realize the wisdom of what they'd done and they would be heroes. But for now they had to disappear.

Naylor walked to the adjoining bathroom and turned to Alice, who still sat at the conference table, looking off into space. "We've things to do, and we need to catch that plane."

"Have we done the right thing?" Alice said suddenly.

Naylor walked over to the laptop and clicked onto the plane departures program. She checked Heathrow first. The British Airways Flight BA344 from Gate 28 was already boarding. It was the same with Sydney, Rio, Singapore, Nairobi, and Los Angeles. She smiled a smile of satisfaction. "Of course we have. Anyway, it's too late to start worrying now. It's out of our control. The evolution has begun."

Chapter 37.

Hills of Eternity Cemetery, Colma. Sunday, November 9, 12:01 P.M.

A prickling awareness of being watched made Luke Decker turn his head. Otherwise he would not have seen the car as he walked back across the lawns to the black Mercedes Joey Barzini had lent him.

The funeral was over. Most of the mourners had left for the shiva at Barzini's house, but Decker had wanted some time alone to say good-bye to Matty before he joined them. He had sent his two FBI minders on ahead, promising to join them in twenty minutes.

After climbing into the Mercedes, he adjusted his rearview mirror and studied the gray Chrysler parked a hundred yards away behind a copse of trees. There were three men. A black man sat in the front passenger seat.

Associate Director William Jackson.

Decker gunned the engine into life and slowly pulled away, all the time keeping his eyes on the Chrysler. He felt no fear, only a cold sense of purpose. The car behind him wasn't a threat. It was an opportunity.

In his mind he recalled the winding lanes that led out of the vast complex of cemeteries and tried to pick the spot where Jackson would make his move. And then select the place he would make his.

He checked the gun in his jacket and clicked his seat belt into place. Behind him he could see the Chrysler pulling closer, but he made no move to increase his speed, keeping at a sedate twenty miles an hour. The road ahead was deserted, and beyond the gates of the Hills of Eternity the main road leading to the other cemeteries looked equally abandoned. He and the three men behind seemed to be the only living souls in this city of the dead.

The Chrysler was only a few yards behind. He could see Jackson's face clearly now. He was smiling.

After pulling out of the gates, Decker turned right down the main tree-lined artery that cut through the patchwork of cemeteries. Still keeping his speed at twenty, Decker waited for the Chrysler to come closer. He could see indecision on the driver's weasely face. Did the man speed up and overtake him, or did he pull up alongside, or wait? Jackson didn't seem to be giving him any guidance.

So Decker made up his mind for him. He suddenly braked to a standstill, put the Mercedes into reverse, and slammed his foot on the gas.

The impact was bone-crunching, but Decker was prepared for it. As the Chrysler stalled and Jackson pulled the driver's head off the dashboard, Decker pushed the Mer-cedes's automatic gearshift into drive and again slammed his foot on the gas. He had gone three hundred yards down the deserted straight road before the Chrysler started up again. But instead of trying to make good his getaway, Decker again slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the car, and walked into the middle of the road. He retrieved his gun, held it in both hands, and locked its barrel on the approaching Chrysler. The car accelerated. He wouldn't miss. He had hit far more difficult targets in practice.

The first bullet took out the front left tire, pulling the car left immediately. He didn't need a second. The Chrysler almost turned on its side as it spun around and hit a large, gnarled oak. Decker ran to the wreckage and barely noticed the unconscious driver or the third man slumped in the rear seat. Jackson was fumbling with the door, trying to get out. He had a large gash on his forehead, and his left arm appeared broken.

Decker opened the door, pulled him out of the car, and deposited him on the bruised grass verge. He pushed the barrel of the SIG into the back of Jackson's neck and leaned down toward him.

"Why the hell did you have to break his fucking fingers?"

"It wasn't my fault," Jackson whimpered, his nasal whine incensing Decker. "Director Naylor made me do it. I had to find you. If he'd told us where you were, he'd have been OK."

Decker tightened his finger on the trigger. "Well, you've found me now."

"But I wasn't going to kill you. They wanted me to take you to the airport if I found you and Kathy. They called me to--"

A question suddenly cut through the heat of Decker's rage. "When did they call you?"

"I don't know. A few hours ago."

"And you were supposed to take me to the airport?"

"Yeah, to meet them."

Decker suddenly felt calm, numbingly calm. He reached into his left pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and called Bill McCloud's number. Before he could say anything, McCloud told him about Naylor's and Prince's disappearing act.

"They could be anywhere," said McCloud, his drawl uncharacteristically strained. "According to our IT guys, they could have pulled off their hologram stunt from anywhere with a digital phone socket. The IT guys have taken control of most of TITANIA, but apparently a whole lot of its higher functions require some other kind of clearance. They're working on it, but until then we don't know where the hell they are."

"I think I do," said Decker abruptly.

"Yeah?" McCloud sounded stunned.

"I've got William Jackson here, and he says they're at the airport."

"Shit. We'll get it closed down immediately and cordoned off. We'll do it from the outside in, so we don't alert anybody inside." Decker heard McCloud turn from the phone and bark an order.

He came back on the line. "We can have the whole airport sealed within minutes. But we've got to get close to Naylor and Prince before they set anything off--assuming they haven't done so already."

"I've got an idea," said Decker. "But I'll need some help."

"Whatever you need. What do you want to do?"

"The only thing I can: use myself as bait. Prince and Nay-lor have told Jackson to take me to them." Decker pushed his gun into Jackson's neck. "And I'm going to make sure my friend here does exactly what he's told."

Executive Suite, San Francisco Airport.

12:11 P.M.

It took Madeline Naylor completely by surprise. Not one of her contingency plans could have covered it.

She stood in the private bathroom admiring her short copper-flecked hair and black roots in the mirror above the basin. Her immaculate shoulder-length white hair was gone. Naylor had dyed her hair twice, to look like a natural brunette who had colored her hair. It worked. She was pleased with how different it made her look. Blue contacts helped the transformation, as did the long floral dress. She rarely wore dresses and never floral prints.

"Your turn, Alice," she said, entering the conference room.

But Alice hadn't changed. She hadn't even moved.

"Come on, you've done nothing."

"I know."

"Well, hurry up! We need to get going."

Alice frowned and fiddled with the pendant around her neck. She seemed distracted.

"Alice..."

The ring interrupted her. Naylor went over to the green bags and fished out her cell phone.

"Yes." She exhaled the word into the handset.

"I've got Decker," said Jackson. The reception was poor. But despite the static, she could still hear his nasal voice.

"You said you wanted him. I've got him at the airport. The new mall's construction site on the east mezzanine by the Calvin Klein billboard. It's quiet."

Naylor frowned. She didn't need this now.

"Who is it?" asked Alice.

"Jackson, he's got Decker." Naylor spoke back into the phone. "Kill him."

"Wait!" shouted Alice suddenly, snatching the phone from her. "No, leave him. I want to speak to him. Where is he?"

Naylor laughed in disbelief. "You can't speak to him. Are you out of your mind? There's no time." She tried to grab the phone back, but Alice wouldn't release it until she'd made her arrangement with Jackson and hung up. Then Alice turned her back on Naylor and rested on the bags.

Naylor was really angry now. She had never seen Alice so defiant before. "Alice, you aren't seeing Decker. You're getting changed and leaving now!"

"No, I'm not," said Alice quietly, her hand in one of the bags.

Naylor moved toward her then, but before she could reach her, Alice turned around, a small pistol in her shaking hands. "Madeline, I don't want to shoot you, but I promise you I will. Just let me go."

Naylor didn't know what to say; she could only stare at her friend. Alice's round face was red, and her eyes were moist with tears. Naylor had no doubt at all that if she rushed her, her gentle, shy friend would shoot her. "I don't understand. What are you trying to do?"

"Step back into the bathroom."

Naylor did as she was told. "We've done everything we planned to do. What the hell's wrong?"

Alice closed the bathroom door and locked the door from the outside. Naylor could hear her take the key out and put it in her pocket. "I'll come back for you afterward," Naylor heard her say through the door.

Naylor couldn't believe this was happening. "Just tell me what the hell you're going to do, for chrissakes."

There was a pause and the faint echo of a sob. Then slowly in a faltering voice, Alice explained.

As soon as she did, Madeline Naylor lunged at the bathroom door with all her force, trying to break it down.

Chapter 38.

San Francisco Airport.Sunday, November 9, 12:27 P.M.

Alice Prince could think of no other way but this. Madeline would understand when she calmed down. She had to.

Walking across the concourse teeming with busy travelers, Alice looked up at the Calvin Klein billboard and the unpainted concrete pillars of the deserted site for the new shopping mall on the east mezzanine level.

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