The Executioner's Game (18 page)

Luther had the sun at his back, so they would have an even harder time seeing him. He was playing a dangerous game.

The kill team arced out as they approached. Kam Lim was the closest to him. Since Kam was the best fighter of the three, he would have to go first. Luther pulled on a pair of dark goggles and waited.

 

Without warning, the door to the stairwell was blown off its hinges and went sailing across the concrete roof. Kam Lim jumped up as it skidded under his feet.

Sharon turned her weapon at the now open stairwell. Kam and Frank kept their eyes on the power stations.

“I don't see anyone!” said Sharon.

“Dammit!” yelled Frank. “The explosion will bring the locals. Let's—”

Just then a small black disk flew from the dark stairwell, over Sharon's head. As it hit the ground, it burst into brilliant light.

The kill team was momentarily blinded. Luther rushed to Kam and slammed a blow into Kam's neck. Kam dropped his Namor, swung, and connected to Luther's chest. Luther grabbed Kam's arm and spun his body around between him and the rest of the kill team. Then he shot Kam with the tranq gun and ran off back toward the power stations as Kam fell into a heap on the ground.

The light faded. Frank and Sharon saw Kam's body. Frank checked him and then cursed as he scanned the area, looking for his prey.

“He's hiding there,” said Frank to Sharon, indicating the power stations.

Sharon ran to the stairwell and ripped several shots down the stairs.

“Forget him!” said Frank.

Sharon ran back to Frank, not wanting to take her eyes off the stairwell.

Frank and Sharon moved in tandem to each of the stations, and then Frank walked to the back of the first one so that he and Sharon kept the stations between them as they moved along. If Luther was hiding, he'd be flushed out.

One by one the stations passed between them. Sharon kept looking back at the stairwell, fearful that Hampton or Alex Deavers or whoever it was might still be there.

As they approached the end of the long row, Luther struck. He leaped from behind a station, grabbed Sharon's gun, and raised it
up. She fired into the air. Luther hit Sharon with a blow to the jaw, then grabbed her twisting body and wrenched her gun away from her.

Frank stepped clear of the station and found Luther hidden behind Sharon. He froze for just an instant, but it was long enough for Luther to thrust Sharon at him. They fell into each other. Frank's gun was dislodged from his hand and skidded across the concrete floor.

Frank and Sharon recovered and moved to attack. Sharon jump-kicked at Luther, but he sidestepped her. Unfortunately, his movement sent him too close to Frank, who caught him with a glancing blow. Luther recovered, then grabbed Frank's arm. He paid dearly for this as Frank reversed the hold and drove an elbow into his side. Before Frank could strike again, Luther dropped and swept Frank's legs from under him, rising just in time to avoid Sharon's side kick.

Luther went to Frank and grabbed him. Sharon was advancing again, and Luther used Frank to block her. He pushed Frank into her, pushing Frank's elbow into her jaw. They both toppled, then scrambled back to their feet.

Luther moved quickly to Frank and kicked him in the temple, knocking him out. He turned to Sharon and was ready to finish her, but he stopped cold. In her hand was a gun. In that instant Luther thought that she must have recovered it when he pushed them to the floor.

Luther raised the tranq gun, and they both fired at the same time. Luther was hit in the upper right chest and fell backward. The tranq gun's dart hit Sharon in the neck. She was out before she made contact with the floor.

Luther struggled to his feet. He was badly hit, but he still had one good arm, which he used to shoot Frank with a tranq dart.

Luther then went to the stairwell and called down to Hampton. Hampton answered. He was down a few levels, waiting, and he quickly ran up to the roof. “You okay?” he asked.

“Barely,” said Luther. “Did they get out all right?” he asked, referring to Vanessa and her staff.

“They're fine,” said Hampton. “Long gone. Goddamned bomb on the door was smart. Luckily I'm smarter. I triggered it with a minicharge of my own.”

“Guess I'll have to find a new TWA,” said Luther.

“This is bad,” said Hampton, pointing to Luther's wound. “We need to get you out of here.”

Hampton dressed Luther's arm as fast as he could, and then they began the long process of dragging their three captives away.

Kilmer Gray was worried. The kill team had checked in last night, but Agent Hedgispeth had not called Kilmer directly. He'd sent a coded message to Kilmer's computer in the early hours of the morning. Kilmer had left instructions to contact at any hour of the day, but Hedgispeth had apparently forgotten that. The message reported that Luther, Hampton, and Alex Deavers all were dead and their corpses incinerated.

Kilmer checked the news database, and sure enough, there had been a “suspicious” break-in at a local garbage-incineration facility in suburban Detroit. The best news was that the kill team had recovered a cache of documents gathered by Luther and Alex Deavers. These documents had been burned along with the bodies.

But none of these were why Kilmer was worried. There were little things. Frank's message seemed too by-the-book, too perfect. But the code used to transmit was verified.

The team was coming in. They were a bit banged up, by their
account. Luther had not gone down without a fight, as Kilmer had expected.

Kilmer was mentally exhausted. This business had taken a lot out of him. He had almost gone to Detroit himself, but that would have raised too much suspicion. He hadn't been in the field in twenty years.

He wondered if any of the others were as worried as he was. Kilmer had kept tabs on those in the Africa Project Group. Most of them were dead now, their legacies taken up by children and successors who knew nothing of their terrible sin.

In retrospect it had been a bad idea to try to backwash Alex Deavers in Africa. Deavers was a lot tougher and luckier than anyone could have imagined. When he survived, the remaining members of the APG panicked and cut off all contact.

“Sir, they're here,” said Thomas. His voice sounded a little troubled.

“Let them in,” said Kilmer.

Kilmer's door opened, and through it stepped a ghost. Worse for wear but very much alive, Luther Green strode into the boss's office with a look on his face that was both determined and violently angry. Behind him came Hampton, looking better but just as serious. The mystery of how Luther had gotten through security was answered when Adelaide Gibson walked in and closed the door. Unlike the other two, Adelaide did not look angry, but in her hand was a sidearm pointed at the floor.

“Prodigal sons,” said Kilmer, his voice grim.

“I wanted to see you before you were arrested,” said Luther. “I wanted to ask you something before I bring the wrath of God down on you.”

“Agent Gibson,” said Kilmer, “I don't suppose that sidearm means you've taken these two into custody.”

“You suppose correctly, sir,” said Adelaide. “The weapon in my hand is for you. Sir, under Rule 200 I'm going to have to ask you to stand down.”

“You?” said Kilmer in disbelief. “You're an overpaid assistant.”

“I'm also the agent with the most seniority in the institution. Under Rule 200, I must step in.” Adelaide moved toward Kilmer and cocked the weapon. “Inform Security Chief Davis that you are transferring power to me under Rule 200. If you say anything remotely out of line, I'll kill you, sir.”

Kilmer complied and verified the order with a security code. Adelaide then told Chief Davis to send a security detail to the director's office.

Hampton searched Kilmer for weapons and found only a small gun the director always carried. He took it from him.

“Adelaide has been suspicious of you for a long time,” said Hampton.

“She left me a note warning me not to take the mission,” said Luther. “She knew that something wasn't right.”

“I did some internal investigating after Luther was given the mission,” said Adelaide. “I hacked the company's computers and found out you were covering up something, sir. You broke protocol to get Luther on the case and covered up Alex's mission in Africa by creating a phony internal agency mission.”

“If the humiliation is over,” said Kilmer, “I'd like to know where my team is.”

“They're in the infirmary recuperating. Alive.”

“And Alex?” asked Kilmer.

“He didn't make it,” said Luther, “so you can add another name to your list of the dead.” Luther knew that Alex was alive, but he didn't want anyone at the agency to know. It was his and Hampton's secret.

“I'd like to make a plea to you, Agent Green,” said Kilmer. “I assume you've protected the information you and Alex gathered, keeping it somewhere safe. That's fine. You should take it and destroy it and forget about all of this.”

Luther let out a short laugh. “You're going to answer for your crimes, and this nation will account for what it has done.”

“No,” said Kilmer. “I will be killed and the rest of it covered up. You know that.”

“He's right,” said Adelaide. “It's how things are done.”

“Bullshit,” said Hampton. “The bastards killed millions of innocent people. Someone has to pay for that.”

“Do you know about Rule 225, sir?” asked Luther.

“Of course,” said Kilmer.

“Then you know why I will not let this go.”

They heard footsteps outside the door. “Security detail,” said a man's voice. Adelaide told them to wait.

“I just want to know why you didn't stop it when you could,” said Luther. “Why let it go on?”

Kilmer laughed, and it was a sound that was close to madness. “Agent Green, I'm surprised at you. We did nothing because it was working. It got away from us a little, but all in all it was doing what we wanted it to do.”

Hampton took a step toward Kilmer and then stopped, realizing that he meant the man bodily harm.

The security detail entered. Kilmer was taken away without a word. They watched as he was carted off in humiliation through the offices.

“What's going to happen now?” asked Luther.

“We'll wait until your information is verified, and then we'll turn him over to a military/CIA panel,” said Adelaide.

“And if it doesn't check out?” said Hampton.

“You don't want to think about that,” said Adelaide. She put away her weapon and went to Kilmer's desk. “I'm going to call all agents back to Washington for the time being. Luther, you and Hampton have to stay here until this all blows over.”

Luther and Hampton shared a look. It had been a long journey, and each saw the exhaustion in the other's eyes. The two men started for the door, knowing that this was just the beginning of their work to make things right again.

Luther was a little nervous as he sat down with the president and his advisers in the Oval Office. The room was filled with faces he'd seen only on CNN and
Meet the Press
. Luther had retrieved both sets of information and presented them to the president in person. The president and his people read the documents in detail, and Luther was then granted this audience.

The president was told the compelling tale of the Wells information and how AIDS had been engineered in the United States. He was also told that Luther was a government consultant who worked outside federal service. The president knew that this was a cover, but he also knew that it was for his own good to accept it.

Luther had been to the White House only once, and then it was under civilian cover. Now the place seemed smaller and more ordinary because of the business he had to attend to. He hoped that he'd leave the place with a fond memory.

“My people tell me that we did not receive all the original documents in these sets of papers from Wells,” said the president.

“Yes, sir,” said Luther. “I've kept some of them, enough to authenticate the copies I also kept.”

“And what is the purpose of that action?” asked a high-ranking presidential adviser.

“I'm protecting my life,” said Luther, “as well as the lives of others.” He'd been instructed to say as little as possible about the incidents in Detroit.

“This kind of information is too dangerous. We must destroy it and then deal with the people who started this and set things right,” said the adviser.

“How will we administer justice for this?” asked Luther.

“We have already made changes at various agencies, and the private companies and military officials responsible that are still with us will be dealt with,” said the president.

“How?” asked Luther, and there was a buzz in the room at both his question and his intonation.

“This administration has a lot of respect for you,” said the president, “but you do not question me.”

“I understand, sir,” said Luther. “You're a powerful man, and that's why I've kept a copy of the information—to ensure that your administration keeps its word and delivers justice in this matter. I have the files themselves, as well as other information, stored away.”

Now the buzz became a low clamor. The military types in the room looked especially angry.

“Son,” said the president, “are you blackmailing the president of the United States?”

“I think of it as ‘bluemail,' Mr. President,” said Luther. “It's patriotic persuasion for men who understand what a patriot is.”

Luther waited to be arrested. The room was quiet, and all eyes
were on the president. He leaned back in his chair and glanced up at the ceiling. Then he leaned forward and seemed to think a little more. The military men in the room had the beginnings of smiles on their faces, the kind of smile you wore when you knew someone was about to get taken down.

The president sat up straight and looked Luther directly in the eye. “What are your terms?”

 

Luther sat on the cold stone of the Lincoln Memorial in the Mall and waited. It was a little chilly out, so he'd worn a light jacket. Tourists stopped by, posing for pictures. He was careful not to get into any of them, although he did take a few snapshots for families.

The mission was finally over for him. He'd had to listen to almost two hours of classical music to put this one behind him. But the melodies had done their job and slowly he was turning back into his old self.

Frank and Kam Lim both returned to active duty, but each held a deep grudge against Luther. Frank seemed particularly upset that his chances for advancement had been hurt.

Adelaide was still in charge of the office and was actually enjoying it. Agents had been sent back out on missions, but Luther and Hampton were given some well-deserved time off.

Luther was proud when he read about the record aid package passed by Congress and the president to fund African AIDS relief and domestic research for a cure. He was even prouder when the federal government handed down indictments against five major corporations and six individuals for violations of federal laws, from RICO to insider trading. Soon
thereafter several high-ranking military men suddenly decided to take early retirement.

Sharon and Luther had talked for a long time, trying to make sense out of what had happened. Luther didn't blame her for following orders. She did, however, blame him for acting like such a loner. In her mind he and Hampton might have handled things differently, although she didn't have any idea how they could have done it. In the end they would remain friends, and that was all Luther cared about.

Luther had called home and learned that his family was better. They had worked out a great many things in his absence and had bored a hole into the pain, heartache, and trouble that had built up over the years. He wanted to be there to go back and help, maybe even see Vanessa again. But he'd heard it so many times and now he knew it was true: You could
not
go home again.

Many articles appeared about the recent spate of local terrorism and anti-Arab sentiment in Detroit. Ironically, Nappy's paper,
The Radical
, would have reported something a little more accurate, but since his death it had gone out of business.

Sitting by the monument, Luther checked his watch. It was getting late. He rose and was about to go when he saw a figure approach. He stood still as the man came closer to him. Luther had been coming here almost every night for two weeks, hoping he was right about something.

Alex had mentioned that Rule 225 had been inspired by Lincoln, and then he'd said, “
I'm sure I'll meet Lincoln one day
.” It sounded crazy, but Luther knew it was some kind of code. How could you meet Lincoln, unless it was here? So he'd been coming here, hoping to see Alex, but the last few weeks…nothing. Alex
was probably on some exotic island getting laid and drunk in that order. That had made Luther smile a little.

The man walking toward Luther looked about right, but as he came into better view, Luther saw that it was not Alex but a tall wino in a trench coat. The wino hit him up for a dollar, then ambled off.

“You only encourage them to drink when you do that.” It was Alex's voice.

Luther spun around but saw nothing except Honest Abe sitting in his chair.

“I always was a soft touch,” said Luther.

“I saw you here last week, but I had to make sure you weren't trying to take me in,” said Alex as he stepped into view.

“I understand your concern,” said Luther, “but the agency thinks you're dead.”

As Alex walked closer, Luther saw that he looked better now. His eyes were clear, and he wore an expression that seemed normal.

“I got myself some proper medical attention,” said Deavers. “I think if I keep taking it easy, I might be halfway healthy again.”

“It's good to see you,” said Luther. He was happy to know that Alex was alive, though he didn't know what the future held for him.

“I see that the government is trying to make amends,” said Deavers. “They even rolled a few heads.”

“Yes, but it all seems too little too late,” said Luther.

“Don't be so pessimistic,” said Deavers. “Every good deed has to start somewhere.”

“So how about a drink?” asked Luther.

“Sure. It'll go well with the drugs I'm taking.”

The two men walked off. Luther wouldn't tell anyone that his friend was still alive. It would be their secret. Maybe this would finally give Alex a chance at a normal life. Luther envied him.

He watched the people taking pictures of the statues in the National Mall. People came here all the time to touch the greatness of America's past leaders. Luther wondered how many people knew how precious the freedom those monuments stood for was to their lives.