Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense (166 page)

“I’ll tell him.”

Kilroy went to the next cell and slid open the grate. “Bet you knew I was coming, didn’t you?” He relayed Ian’s words about who was in charge. The man inside said something Julia couldn’t catch.

At Ian’s prodding, Dr. Jonas keyed open the lock with trembling hands, then retreated to press his back to the far wall. Ian pushed open the door. Julia noted that he kept his shotgun at the ready.

She didn’t know what she’d expected the Almighty to look like, but it wasn’t the man who stepped into the hallway. The Almighty wore a white dress shirt—well, something that had once been white—and a thin black tie with numbers written across in binary. No shoes or socks, and his dress slacks hung in tatters at the cuffs. He wore a pair of square, black plastic glasses, and a thin beard. This was some computer nerd who had been snatched from his cubicle.

“I’m in charge, do you understand?” Ian said.

“I am thine to command.” His voice was high, nasal. “Guards shall approach in four minutes and sixteen seconds. They have already noted our release, and are preparing an armed response.”

“You don’t need to be God to figure that out,” Ian said. “No offense, brother.” He turned his head slightly toward Kilroy without removing his eyes from the Almighty. “Get Gandhi.”

Gandhi emerged from his cell wearing only a pair of once-white briefs. He was smooth and hairless, without so much as eyebrows. His skin was bleached from years without light, but he had an indefinable race that might, in fact, have been Indian like his namesake.

“Jeez, didn’t they give you guys regular prison clothes?” Ian asked. Julia thought his voice sounded pinched, the humor forced.

Gandhi kept his hands spread across his scalp, and leaned forward and whispered something into Kilroy’s ear.

Kilroy said, “Gandhi says that he needs something to cover his head or our brains will start to boil in our skulls. It’s all he can do to keep from killing us right now. Lead would work best.”

Julia addressed Kilroy. “That’s ridiculous.”

“But having a computer in your brain isn’t?” Ian asked.

She shrugged.

“There is an x-ray shield in one of the drawers of the examination room,” Dr. Jonas said. He seemed especially terrified of Gandhi, and anxious to help insofar as it would keep him alive.

“We’ve got to go back anyway, to get the weapons,” Ian said.

“And I shall require a computer,” the Almighty said.

“I’ve got a laptop,” Julia said. “Assuming it still works.”

“Yes, I am aware. In the examination room, where you left the dead bodies.”

She blinked, then realized it was a reasonable deduction. If the Almighty knew everything already, why hadn’t he spoken up about the lead x-ray shield? Unless, she supposed, he was just full of crap. The Almighty reminded her a bit of Chang, but with a God complex. Okay, with
more
of a God complex.

Ian grabbed Dr. Jonas, pushed him in front and the group moved back toward the examination room. Julia stayed as close to Ian as she dared without obstructing his use of the shotgun. Kilroy, naked, immersed in his own stench, walked next to her left shoulder. He leaned in slightly and sniffed at her.

“Please, don’t do that. It makes me nervous.”

He took a step back, walked with his own wide berth of the Almighty, and both kept their distance from Gandhi, who still kept his hands clasped over his head. At least he wasn’t
trying
to make their brains boil.

And to think she had been afraid of being alone with Ian.

As they reached the examination room, the Almighty suddenly said, “The guards approacheth. They number six. More shall arrive within minutes.”

All six of them ducked into the examination room. Kilroy squatted at once in front of the dead guards. He poked with one finger. “Not as fresh as it could be, but it will do.”

“Leave them alone,” Ian said. Kilroy backed away but took a long look back.

Dr. Jonas rushed to the cabinet and rummaged through the drawers until he found a lead shield, which he threw at Gandhi, then shrank back against the wall, quivering. Gandhi draped it over his head.

“But you don’t really think he can…?” Julia asked Ian. “With his brain, I mean? No, that’s scientifically impossible.”

“Probably,” Ian said, “but why take chances?”

The Almighty found Julia’s laptop and opened it on the examination table. His fingers danced over the keyboard. She unplugged the USB cable attached to the probe and stuffed them into her pocket.

Outside the room came shouted orders from one guard to another. Julia had to fight the urge not to sprint for the door, scream for help. She was trapped in the room with four dead bodies, three certifiably insane prisoners, Ian, who may or may not have had a psychotic break, and Dr. Jonas, who seemed well on his way to insanity himself.

Ian crouched at the door with his shotgun.

Kilroy took advantage of his distraction and returned to the dead body. He clawed at the man’s head, then came up with something lumpen and shoved it into his mouth. Blood trickled from his lips and dripped down his hands and arms. Julia thought she was going to be sick.

Kilroy’s eyes met hers. They had a strange glow. “I eat brains,” he whispered.

________

Ian ordered the others to barricade the door with the examination table. He could hear guards in the hallway, but so far they hadn’t tried the door. They would be waiting for backup, and though the CIA facility might be far from civilization, it would eventually arrive, and with overwhelming force. He had to figure out some way to mount an attack and do it soon.

The Almighty stopped typing at Julia’s computer. “We now have complete control over all security systems. This door is locked and I can lock or unlock any others at will. I’ve snarled traffic in Salt Lake City to slow a detachment of operatives already driving south to intercept us. An order has been given to Hill Air Force Base in Ogden to scramble two F-16s, but it will be at least twenty minutes before they arrive. I’ll try to stop them.”

Ian was impressed as hell. “But that doesn’t help with the guys who are already in the hallway. Sounds like half a dozen out there. What can we do about that?”

Joe Kilroy stood with the remains of his meal still around his mouth. Julia looked pale. Dr. Jonas cowered in one corner, whimpering.

“Don’t do that again,” Ian told Kilroy.

“How else am I supposed to discover what our enemies know?”

“I don’t know, but eat brains on your own time.” He hesitated, unsure whether to give into Kilroy’s insanity. “Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, I did. The men out there are terrified of Gandhi and what he can do with his mind.” Kilroy turned to look at Gandhi, who sat in lotus position, his eyes closed, a lead x-ray sheet draped over his head.

Ian nodded. He could have guessed as much just by seeing how terrified Dr. Jonas was of the man. “But
why
are they scared?”

“He stopped a man’s heart just a few weeks ago,” Kilroy said. “He once killed another guard by making him shoot himself in the head with his sidearm.”

“That’s coincidence,” Julia said. She looked pale, but steady. “You can’t kill someone with your brain. And people die of heart attacks all the time.”

“Twenty-eight year old men?” Kilroy asked.

“An undiagnosed heart defect. The other guy was probably depressed. People sometimes kill themselves. It’s called suicide.”

“Gandhi did it,” Kilroy said with conviction. “From behind a foot of solid concrete and a ten inch metal door. Imagine what he can do loose in the asylum.”

“He’ll get himself killed is what he’ll do,” Julia said.

Ian was inclined to believe Julia, but it might not matter if the enemy believed it. He was trying to think how he could use Gandhi when the man uncrossed his legs, rose to his feet and made for the door.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Ian said. He reached out a hand to stop Gandhi, but recoiled when the man fixed him with a dull, lizard-like gaze.

“He marches forth to eliminate the enemy,” the Almighty said, looked up from Julia’s laptop. “The wicked shall be smitten by his wrath.”

“They’ve got shotguns, remember?” Ian said. “Doesn’t matter if he
can
kill with his mind. A couple of panicky shots and he’ll die all the same.”

“Isn’t there a reason you let us out of our cells?” the Almighty asked.

“Yeah, to do that computer stuff. That’s a big help.”

“Trust him.” The Almighty tapped something into the laptop. “The door is open.”

Gandhi pulled the examination table out of the way and opened the door a crack. In one motion, he stripped the lead blanket from his head, tossed it over his shoulder, into the room, then slipped into the hallway and shut the door.

“On the ground!” a voice barked from outside.

Screams came from the hallway, shotgun blasts. More screams. Everything was quiet. Ian winced. He couldn’t believe that he’d sent Gandhi to his death based on the advice of three crazies.

Someone knocked on the door and he startled. “Who is it?”

No answer.

“It is Gandhi, of course,” the Almighty said. He typed at the computer. “It’s unlocked again. Open the door.”

“Open it,” Kilroy urged. “It’s got to be him.”

Ian looked to Julia. She gave a bewildered shrug. He reached for the door.

“Wait!” Kilroy said. “The lead shield, first.”

“Julia, get the shield.”

Ian braced the door with one foot, held his shotgun with his right hand and reached for the door with the left. He cracked the door while Julia held out the lead shield with her arm as far outstretched as possible. A pale, hairless arm reached in, grabbed the shield, while Julia started back.

“My God, it
is
him,” Ian said. “How did he…?”

Moments later, Ian let Gandhi into the room with the lead sheet draped over his bald head. He looked unaltered, though he was breathing heavily. He nodded to the Almighty, who had stepped away from the laptop.

“The way has been cleared for thee,” the Almighty said.

Ian poked his head out the door and saw that he was right. Two men lay slumped against the wall. One had taken a shotgun blast to the face. The other bled from what looked like trauma to the femoral artery of one, maybe both legs. To Ian’s eye the men had panicked when they saw Gandhi step into the hallway. Their first shots had killed their own men. The others had fled.

Ian came back inside with their weapons. They now had four shotguns and some ammo. He handed one of the guns to Kilroy. “We’re making a run for it. You know how to use this thing?”

“Of course.”

“Good, now get some clothes on. You’ll be in front and Julia shouldn’t have to stare at your hairy ass.” He turned and winked at Julia, and she made a game effort of returning a smile. Good. He needed her clear-headed. “Gandhi, I don’t suppose you want to get dressed, too? No, I didn’t think so.” At least he had underwear. “Do either of you guys want weapons? I’ve got shotguns and stun batons.”

“I’ll stick with the computer,” the Almighty said. “Gandhi doesn’t need or know how to use any weapon but his own mind.”

“Yeah, alright.” Ian turned to Julia. “That leaves you.” He handed her one of the two remaining Benellis. “Know how to use this thing?”

“No, I have no clue.”

“The shot comes out this end. This is the trigger. Squeeze it to fire.”

“Hah, hah, very funny.”

“I’m serious. All you need to do is hold the stock to your shoulder, point, and shoot. In close range, that’s enough. If you’re not within, say, thirty feet—no, better make it fifteen—don’t bother. Pump a new shell in like this. Got it?”

She nodded, gripped the shotgun uncomfortably. “Got it.”

“And for God’s sake, don’t shoot if there’s anyone in front of you, not even if they’re standing to one side. That’s what happened to the guards in the hall. They started freaking out and killed their own guys.” He glanced back at Gandhi. “I’m sure you made them do it, of course.”

“What about him?” Julia asked. She gestured at Dr. Jonas with her gun, her knuckles white from gripping it so tightly.

Ian considered. “We’ll leave him here. He’s no good to us anymore.”

“Bet he knows lots of useful stuff,” Kilroy said. “If I could find a knife…”

“No, his brain stays in his skull.”

“Okay, fine.” He sounded disappointed.

Ian looked at Dr. Jonas. “We catch you in the hallway, we’ll shoot, understand? You’re better off cowering here in the corner, pissing yourself, until someone comes to rescue you.” He turned back to the others. It was the strangest force he’d ever led into battle. “Okay everyone, let’s go.”