Fight for Power (30 page)

“I just wanted you to know, well, because I trust you, and I owe you, and because there's one more thing you should know.”

I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Adam,
you
have to be careful.”

“I think we all have to be careful.”

“I mean around this Brett guy. I heard him talking. He doesn't like you, or your mother, and he doesn't have any respect for any of the people who run this place. If he could kill you and get away with it, he'd do it in a second. Make sure you watch your back.”

A chill went up my spine because he was just putting into words what I already felt.

“I better get back to work. I don't even know what you can do with what I've just told you.”

“I just appreciate you telling me,” I said.

Now I'd have to figure out what to do.

 

30

“Are you all right with this?” Herb asked Dr. Morgan.

“I'm trained to help patients, not trick them.”

“You're trained to save lives, and that's what we're trying to do here.”

I hadn't known what to do with the information Quinn had told me, but I figured Herb might, and I was right. Now we were here at the clinic—Herb, Todd, and me—putting that plan into action.

“So you'll help?” Todd asked.

“It's strange, but I'll help,” Dr. Morgan said.

“Then let's do it,” Herb said.

Dr. Morgan nodded and then walked away, leaving us behind in the examination room off to the side of the waiting area.

“So can we talk about this one more time?” Todd said. “You know, just to be sure.”

“It's good to be clear on things,” Herb said. “I'd like you to explain it to us. That way, I'll know you understand everything.”

Todd nodded. “Okay, we're here because Adam and I are going to talk to Jack or, I guess, to get him to talk to us. We're not sure what he's going to say, but we think it has to do with something that the away team did.”

“That's what we believe, but he may not say anything,” I said.

“And the doc is going to help motivate him by giving him a shot of truth serum, which I thought was something that only existed in the movies,” Todd said.

“The truth serum we're giving him is just a medication that's going to make him feel so awful, so bad, that he'll think he's going to die,” Herb explained matter-of-factly.

“But he's not really going to die, right?”

“No, he'll just feel like it,” Herb said. “We only want him to
think
he's about to die,”

“Man, I don't want to ever get you mad at me,” Todd joked.

“We thought Jack would be more willing to talk to you than to Adam because you know him better.”

“I guess I do.”

He did. Jack, the guy from Brett's squad, was a few years older than us, but he and Todd had played on the football team together two years ago when Todd was a junior, and Todd had also dated his younger sister, Vanessa. No surprise there—Todd had dated everybody's sister. Jack's mother and Vanessa had been away when this all began, on a short trip to New York; they had never returned. His father had been away on business, too, so Jack had been left alone.

Dr. Morgan came out of the room, an empty syringe in hand, and nodded to us. “I added this to his IV drip while he was sleeping, and then I made enough noise to wake him up. He should be taking a turn for the worse almost immediately.”

The doctor went to the other side of the outer room. Herb placed a hand on Todd's shoulder. “I know you can do this. There's nobody I'd rather have in there.”

“Even Adam?”

“You're the best man for this job. Now go. I'll be out here making sure nobody else comes in and there are no surprises.”

Todd and I exchanged a look and a nod. Then he pushed through the door and I followed behind.

“Hey, Jack, how are you doing?” Todd called out.

Jack was slumped in the bed. He gave Todd a smile and then, seeing me, let the smile fade slightly. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for me to be in there even to begin with.

“Hey, man,” I said. “How are you doing?”

“He's doing great!” Todd said before Jack could answer. “This guy is as strong as an ox. It would take more than a bullet or two to kill him!”

“So you're doing well?” I asked.

“I'm getting there. Some days are better than others.”

“And today?”

“Not good … especially not right now,” he said.

That was to be expected considering what the doctor had just dosed him with.

“Maybe we should leave you alone,” Todd said.

“No, stay … company is good,” Jack said.

Todd settled himself on the bottom of the bed, while I sat in a nearby chair. “I guess you're looking forward to getting better and going back out with the patrol,” Todd said.

“Yeah, I guess.” He didn't sound like he was looking forward to anything.

“In the meantime, I was wondering what you'd think about either me or Todd filling in for you and taking your spot on the away team?” I said.

“You?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening. He shook his head vigorously. “There's no way they'd let you go out there … not the committee and not Brett.”

“I guess I understand,” I said. “What about Todd?”

He turned directly to Todd. “You don't want to go out there. Even if they ask you, you just say no. It just wouldn't be right for you to—”

He sat bolt upright, gagged, and threw up all over the bed. The vomit sloshed onto the floor between Todd and me.

“I'll get the doc!” I shouted. I jumped to my feet and rushed through the door.

Dr. Morgan and Herb were waiting on the other side. Before I could even say anything Dr. Morgan started to move.

Herb grabbed him by the shoulder. “Just a minute. Think this through and remember what you have to say. If you get it wrong, we did all of this for nothing.”

Dr. Morgan nodded. He didn't look confident. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he rushed through the door and I followed him. He went right over to Jack and started asking questions, probing him with his fingers, and running the stethoscope all over him.

Todd and I stood back and watched. The doctor's performance couldn't have looked more convincing.

“Jack, I'm so sorry,” Dr. Morgan said. “I think your injury has just ruptured. There's nothing I can do.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what I can tell it's a case of massive internal bleeding. There's nothing I can do.”

Jack's whole body shuddered. “Can't you … can't you…”

“There's nothing, son, I'm so sorry. I just don't have the proper facilities. The pain is going to only get worse. I'm going to go and get you something to take it away, to put you out.”

Dr. Morgan got to his feet and I started to follow after him, to leave Todd alone. That was the plan.

“Adam, wait!” Jack called out. “Wait.”

I stopped.

“I want you to stay … It's better to have more people here … at the end.”

Those words made me flinch. What we were doing to him was cruel—and it was at least partly my idea. But it was for the sake of the neighborhood. I had to put away my feelings so that this wasn't all for nothing.

“I'm sorry, Jack,” I said, sitting back down in the chair. “We'll make sure people know about what you did. How you died a hero.”

“Hero? You have no idea what we…” His words trailed off and then he convulsed again in pain.

We watched in silence. When he recovered he picked up where he left off.

“If you knew what I did, you'd know I wasn't a hero. None of us are heroes. We did things … I didn't want to do them, but Brett … He just made us … made us believe it was right.”

“What sort of things?” Todd asked.

“Todd, don't go out there with him,” Jack whispered. “It will kill you even if you don't die. Please don't go out there.”

“I won't,” Todd said.

“Neither of you,” he said, looking at me. “You, he'd just kill if he could. He hates you, Adam …
hates
you.”

Those were Quinn's words coming at me again. But we needed more than just vague reports about Brett's emotions.

“This is the time,” I said. “You have to tell us what you did, what Brett made you do. You can't take this with you.”

Jack gagged again and threw up the rest of his breakfast.

He started sobbing. “I'm so sorry. Those poor people— We just slaughtered them.”

“What people?” Todd asked. “What people?”

“So many of them. There were just so many of them. We just shot into the tents … set them on fire and—”

“It was the away team that attacked the tent town?” Now I was about to lose my breakfast.

“Brett told us to. That's the only reason. We did what he said. We just followed orders and—” Jack began sobbing uncontrollably.

Todd sat at the foot of the bed, his head hanging down, staring at the floor.

I got to my feet, practically toppling over, and stumbled through the door.

Herb was there with the doctor. The shocked expression on Herb's face told me he'd heard it all. Herb was never shocked, or at least he never showed it.

“It was them. He confessed. They were the ones,” I said to him.

Herb didn't say anything. The shock on his face suddenly disappeared, replaced by a look in his eyes so intense, so dark, that I stepped back.

“What now, what happens now?” I asked.

“Now I'm going to talk to Jack.”

“And what do I do? What about Todd?”

“I'll send him out. I want you and Dr. Morgan to step outside as well.” He pointed at the outer door of the clinic, which led to the parking lot. “You three stand guard at that door. Nobody comes in. Nobody. Not even any of you.”

 

31

I squirmed uneasily in my seat, Todd so close I could hear him breathing, but in the darkness I couldn't see him even though he was no more than five feet away. It was early the following morning, and we were both behind the glass—the one-way glass in a little panic room in Herb's basement. The door was concealed so well—it just looked like another piece of paneling—that even though I'd been in Herb's basement a hundred times I didn't even know the room was here. It was small and held nothing more than two chairs and a little cot.

From the outside, the little window looked like a mirror hanging on the wall. On the other side of the glass Herb sat at his desk, his back to us, scribbling notes on sheet after sheet of paper. I had no idea what he was working on, but he was quietly going through things, reading, marking, and shuffling pages. He reminded me of a teacher grading papers between classes. Well, except most teachers didn't have a 9-millimeter handgun sitting on the corner of their desk like a deadly paperweight. He looked so calm.

I wished I could be calm. Instead my whole body was tingling, sweat dripping down my sides. I wanted to believe that part of it was because of the heat in the little room. I was still shocked that I hadn't known that Herb even had this room in his basement, but on the other hand I shouldn't have been surprised by him. Nothing he did, said, or possessed should ever surprise me. I wiped one hand on my shirt and then the other. I didn't want perspiration to get in the way of my grip. I was holding a rifle, as was Todd, each aimed through a small opening. Those openings were behind pictures and couldn't be seen from the outside. Now there was nothing to do but wait until Brett arrived.

At that same time my mother, Howie, and sixteen trusted people would start to fan out across the neighborhood. In some ways more people would have been better, but the larger the group the greater the chance of word leaking out, and that had potentially fatal consequences. As it was, there were such mixed emotions—anger, disbelief, acceptance.

They were divided into groups of three, and each group was going to find one of the other six remaining members of Brett's squad and follow the agreed-upon plan: confront, disarm, and capture. One at a time, maybe they could be taken without a shot being fired. They'd just come in from night patrol and after eating breakfast they'd all go their individual ways. Some, maybe most of them, would be captured in bed.

With Brett it was going to be different. Herb wanted to interview him, get as much information as he could before he let him know what was happening. I thought there was also one other way this was going to be different. This was personal for Herb: he wanted to be the one who took Brett down. He'd sent word for him to come into the basement to meet up after he had breakfast. That was something they often did, so it shouldn't have sounded any warning bells in Brett's mind.

After another ten minutes or so I heard the sound of heavy boots stomping down the steps.

“Was it a good patrol?” Herb asked without lifting his head from his papers.

Brett slumped into the chair beside the desk. He looked tired but relaxed. He was, as always, dressed completely in black clothing and he still had on his body armor and wore a holstered gun at his side. I wondered if he had a black mask in his pocket.

“Brought back everybody I took out. No casualties.”

“No casualties or just none for your men?”

“None—period. So not the perfect night. It's always best when we can take down some bad guys,” Brett said.

“Yes, there is some satisfaction in taking down bad guys,” Herb said.

I thought I saw a slight flicker in Brett's face. Had he read something into that statement? His face went back to his usual smug expression quickly enough.

I also started thinking about where I should aim to avoid the body armor—did I go for a head shot or the legs? His vest was undone at the top. A chest shot was probably the best.