Firestorm

by Iris Johansen

  “Out, Brad,” George said quickly. “Haven't you ever heard honesty is overrated in a situation like this?” He opened the door and pushed him out. “It seems Brad's barbaric instincts are at the forefront, Kerry. I'll make sure you see us tailing you, since Brad says he'll make Dickens blind to us. I don't quite believe him, but it's a most interesting situation.”

  Interesting? It was terrifying, she thought. “You listen to me.” She stared Silver directly in the eyes. “You've broken your promise to me before, but you can't break this one. You promise me right now that you'll wait until I give you a safe target to take out Trask.”

  “And what if you find you can't push him? I'm supposed to sit around and watch him burn you all to kingdom come?”

  “Then you'll have to trust me to find some other way to lure him to expose himself.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Promise me, Silver.”

  He was silent a moment. “I promise you I'll give you your chance.” The door closed behind him.

  It wasn't the answer she'd wanted, but it was all she was going to get. It was bad enough that she wasn't sure she could influence Trask. Silver had become an unknown quantity.

  She checked her watch. Only a few minutes had passed, but it was time she left. How did she know what Dickens would do if she wasn't there on time? He was another unknown quantity. Her life seemed to be full of them.

  The blue Ford made three passes around the block where Kerry stood before it pulled over to the curb.

  “Get in.” Dickens leaned over and opened the passenger door. He took her purse, rifled through it, and then ran his hand over her breasts and arms.

  She pulled away. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking for weapons and to see if you're wearing a wire.” He gave a nervous glance at the Baptist church and then down the street. “Let's get out of here. I want to get this over with.”

  “No more than I do.” She slammed the car door. “Where are you taking me?”

  He dialed his phone. “I've got her. No, there's no one around. I made sure before I picked her up. I know my business, Trask.”

  “I want to talk to him.”

  He shrugged and handed her the phone.

  “You said I could talk to my brother, Trask.”

  “Ah, yes. I was a little worried he'd be reluctant, but I believe he has something to say to you.”

  Jason came on the line. “Kerry, don't come. Find a way to get away.”

  He was alive. She hadn't realized until this moment how frightened she'd been that Trask had already killed him. “Are you okay?”

  “Don't come,” Jason said desperately. “My life isn't worth—”

  Trask came on the line. “He must care a great deal for you. He's a smart man, and I don't believe he has any doubt that his own life is on the line. Now, you be good and don't give Dickens any trouble. He's nervous and he can be quite lethal. I don't want anything to happen to you.” He hung up.

  She handed Dickens the phone. “He said you're nervous. That must mean you don't like doing this. Wouldn't it be smarter to help me save my brother and bring Trask down?”

  “Shut up.” He pulled away from the curb. “I'm not nervous. Everything's fine. This is all going to be over tonight.”

  Where was Silver? He'd said five or ten minutes, and yet Dickens showed no sign that— Hell, what did she expect? She didn't know whether she'd even be able to tell any difference in Dickens's behavior if Silver had managed to get into his mind. “They'll catch you, Dickens.”

  “No, they won't. I'm through here the minute Trask gets on that plane with Ki Yong.” He turned the corner and headed for the edge of town. “I'll disappear into the sunset with a bag full of money.”

  “If Trask doesn't decide you'd be perfect for one of his experiments with Firestorm.” With seeming casualness, she shifted her gaze to the side mirror. Her heart sank as she saw the street behind them was empty. No one was following.

  Dear God. Had something happened? Don't think about it. If she had to cope, she'd do it. “Trask is capable of any deceit. You must know what he did to Fairchild. What's to keep him from—”

  A brown Lexus had turned the corner with George at the wheel.

  Get closer,” Silver said curtly. “You can't lose him.”

  “No?” George raised his brows. “You'll excuse me from being ignorant of the process, but wouldn't you be able to find out where he's going?”

  “I don't want to waste the effort,” he said curtly. “I'm having to dig down beneath layers of slime to find out what I need to know about the guards surrounding the farmhouse.”

  “Farmhouse?”

  “That's where he's taking her. A farmhouse. Dickens had to scout it out for Trask.”

  “Then maybe you should find out where it is so that we can go ahead and wait for—”

  “For Christ's sake, it doesn't work that way. I don't know this asshole's mind. I have to pick up what I can until I get control.”

  “Okay,” he said soothingly. “Just a suggestion. You're right, I don't how this works. Who the hell does?”

  “Sorry.” Silver's gaze never left the car ahead of them. “Just get closer and don't lose him.”

  “You're sure he won't see us?”

  “No, I'm not sure, but I don't think he will. I believe I've already got that much control.”

  “Then it's a chance.”

  “Hell, yes.”

  What is it?” Dickens was staring suspiciously at Kerry's face.

  Shit. “Nothing.” She looked hurriedly away from the mirror and tried to distract him. “Trask's not stable, you know. Anyone's a target.”

  It didn't work. Dickens's gaze had followed hers to the mirror.

  She tensed. Jesus, George had moved to only a few car lengths behind them and wasn't even trying to avoid being seen.

  Dickens shrugged and glanced away. “Shut up and stop trying to spook me. I'm not buying it.”

  And he clearly wasn't seeing the brown Lexus behind them.

  Silver had gotten in.

  She let out a deep sigh of relief. “I was just trying to save you from making a mistake. I won't waste my breath.” She forced herself not to look at the mirror again. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Into the country.”

  “Where?”

  He scowled. “I can't tell you. Trask wants it to be a big surprise. Stupid . . .”

  She smelled the smoke first. Harsh, acrid, evoking a hundred nightmare memories.

  Her heart leapt. Had that bastard already turned Firestorm loose on Jason?

  “Get Trask on the phone, Dickens.”

  Dickens shook his head. “The place is right around the bend up there.”

  “Then hurry up, dammit.”

  “Don't give me orders.” He glared at her. “I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do.”

  She barely heard him. They were already going around the curve in the road and she saw the fire.

  A large barn down the road, burning, blazing, devoured, and devouring.

  Anguish tore through her. Jason. “Let me out.”

  “Do what you please.” Dickens had pulled up in front of a farmhouse. “I've done my part.”

  She threw open the door and jumped out of the car. The intense heat struck her as she started at a run for the barn.

  “He's not there, Kerry.”

  She whirled to face the man who'd spoken behind her.

  Trask had come out of the house and was standing on the front porch. There was no mistaking him. The childlike blue eyes staring at her were the same as the ones she'd seen in his photo. The reflection of the fire lit his amused smile as he started down the steps. “You keep thinking I'd cheat myself by being too impatient. After waiting all this time I want to enjoy every nuance.”

  She ignored everything but that first sentence. “Jason's not in that barn?”

  “No. I even turned the livestock out of their cozy home. I merely wanted to light a beacon
to welcome you.”

  And scare the hell out of her, she thought bitterly. “Where is he?”

  He jerked his head toward the house. “In a room upstairs with his father. They're so affectionate I knew they'd want to be together.”

  “I'm going now,” Dickens said as his foot pressed on the accelerator. “I'm supposed to meet Ki Yong down the road to get my final payment.”

  “By all means.” Trask didn't look away from Kerry as Dickens drove away. “Though he may have a surprise,” he murmured. “I doubt if Ki Yong is going to be prepared to pay him off. He'll probably prefer to rid himself of a potential witness in a more lethal manner.”

  “Good. I don't care about Dickens. I want to see Jason.”

  “You will.” His gaze returned to the burning barn. “But I want you to look at my fire first. I've gone to a great deal of trouble, and I want to savor it with you.”

  Her gaze followed his to the flames. “I'm supposed to appreciate this destruction?”

  “Maybe not. All you see is a shell with no true meaning.” He smiled. “But it's not as empty as you think.”

  She went rigid. “You told me Jason wasn't in there. You said he was upstairs. And that you let the livestock out.”

  “Oh, I certainly did. But I couldn't insult Firestorm by not providing the fuel it deserves.”

  “What did you do, you son of a bitch? Who's in there?”

  He chuckled. “The owner of this farm and his wife. But don't worry, they felt no pain tonight. I was forced to dispose of them last night. I couldn't chance them causing me any problems.” He shook his head. “Too bad. The effect would have been much more powerful on you if I'd been able to provide you with a little serving of hors d'oeuvres before the feast.”

  Horror chilled her. She closed her eyes. Fight it. Fight him. She wouldn't have a hope of controlling him if she was this frightened.

  She opened her eyes. “I don't want to see you cremate those poor people. That idea is as sick as you are. Take me to see Jason.”

  He frowned. “You're disappointing me.” Then his expression cleared. “But I shouldn't be surprised. I expected a battle. Do you recognize this house?”

  “Why should I? I've never seen it before.”

  “True. But the Bartlett pear trees? The river?”

  She had not even noticed the river in back of the barn. Something stirred in her memory. “What are trying to tell me?”

  “I gave Dickens an old newspaper photo of the Krazky house and told him to find one similar.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that was probably the most thrilling kill I've ever made. The first time is always special, isn't it? And it means even more to me since that moment when I watched you looking at the ruins of that prick's house and suddenly realized how close we were.” He took a step closer and she could see the tenseness of his muscles, the excitement glittering in his eyes. “Look at the fire again and let yourself open to it. Doesn't it excite you?”

  “No. Take me to Jason.”

  He hesitated. “Very well.” He turned away. “End of Act One, and no applause. But it's early yet. I'll do better.” He started up the porch steps. “Come along. We'll reunite you with your family.”

  She dared a quick glance down the road as she climbed the steps. She'd seen no sign of the Lexus since a mile or so before she'd smelled the smoke of the burning barn.

  Don't panic. Naturally Silver and George wouldn't let any of the guards watching the place see them.

  But, God, she felt alone.

  There he goes,” George murmured as Dickens's car drove past the stand of trees where they'd parked. “Should we take him out now?”

  “No. He's on his way to get his payoff. We may need to use him to get to Ki Yong.”

  “Wouldn't it be better to put him out of action? We don't know how long this business is going to take.”

  “No.” Silver was quickly drawing lines on the pages of his notebook. “He's already out of action.”

  George looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I had to damage him to get the information I needed,” he said absently as he put four crosses on his page. “He's brain-dead.”

  George shook his head. “He's driving that car.”

  “No, I'm driving that car. And I'd better park it so that I can concentrate on something besides Dickens.”

  “Christ.”

  Silver glanced at him. “You don't believe me?”

  “I do believe you. That's what's scary. Did the CIA know you could do stuff like this?”

  “No. Do you think I'm an idiot? I gave them what I wanted to give them. Information is one thing, mind control is another. They'd either try to use me as a tool or consider me a threat they couldn't handle. Probably the latter. I'd have a sanction on me within a few months.”

  “So when you park his car and withdraw from Dickens, he dies?”

  “Not right now. I'll leave a few tendrils to keep his vital signs going. We may need him later.”

  “I don't believe I like the idea of using a”—George searched for a word—“zombie. I'd rather trust myself. If you don't mind, I'll take care of whatever you'd planned for Dickens.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “I will.” He looked down at the page on which Silver was writing. “Tell me about the crosses.”

  “One guard on the riverbank behind the barn to keep an eye out for boats.” He pointed to another cross. “A sniper with a Springfield behind the shed at the rear of the house.” He pointed to the third cross. “This sentry is a half mile ahead, guarding the road to the farmhouse.”

  “And the last one?”

  “Ki Yong and his driver. He's waiting ten miles from here for Trask to finish his party so that he can whisk him off to the airport to board his plane to Pyongyang.”

  “You found out all that from Dickens?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn't easy. Otherwise I might not have had to damage him.” His lips tightened. “But I probably would have done it anyway.” He looked down at the map. “We have to move. Which target do you want to take first? The one guarding the road?”

  George nodded as he opened the car door and got out. “And the one on the riverbank. You get the sniper. Then we both go for Trask.”

  “Not until Kerry presents us with a target.” Silver fell into step with him. “We'll stay outside and wait until we can get a clear shot at him. I promised her.”

  George's lips lifted sardonically. “And how long will you keep that promise if you see Trask become a threat to her?” He lifted his hand. “Never mind. Don't answer that. I don't want you to get angry and ‘damage' me.”

  “I wouldn't do that.”

  He glanced at him. “No, I don't think you would. Do me a favor and wait until I join you before you try to take a shot at Trask. I don't want to insult you, but I have a better chance at making the score.”

  “If you get there fast enough.”

  “Oh, the pressure.” His pace quickened. “It should take us no more than five minutes to take out that first guard. Then the road to the farmhouse will be clear.”

  Where are they?” Kerry glanced around the shabby living room as she entered the house. The windows were wide open and a faint haze of smoke was sweeping into the room, giving the room a surreal, otherworldly look. “Where's Jason?”

  “Upstairs.” Trask was already climbing the staircase and motioned her to follow him. “I'm sure they'll be very glad to see you. Particularly your father. He seems quite desperate, ready to clutch at any straw on the chance of saving your brother. Not really very intelligent behavior. But then, that's what you're doing too. Emotion makes reason fly out the door, doesn't it?” He opened the door at the top of the steps. “I gave them the master bedroom. Nothing is too good for the people you care about, Kerry.” He stepped aside. “Go on.”

  She hesitated.

  “You think I may have an unpleasant surprise for you? Perhaps two cadavers like our farmer and his wife?” Trask smi
led. “You won't know until you go in and see for yourself.”

  She forced herself to enter the room.

  No cadavers. Dear God, they were alive.

  Her father was lying on the bed, tied to the bedpost, and Jason was roped to a chair by the window.

  “You shouldn't have come, Kerry.” Jason's voice was hoarse, his face pale and strained. “I told you not to do it.”

  “She was right to come, Jason,” Ron Murphy said. “This is her responsibility.” He looked at Trask. “You've got her, you've got me, why not let Jason go?”

  “Jesus.” Jason gazed at him in horror. “Do you think I'd walk out of here without the two of you? If there's a chance for you to get out of here, do it, Kerry.”

  “Save your breath. Trask has no intention of letting anyone out of here alive.” Kerry's gaze shifted to Trask. “Isn't that right?”

  “Regretfully.” Trask smiled. “Even though I feel you're a true soul mate and I'm hoping for a breakthrough, it would require time I don't have to test you enough to be sure of you. Unfortunately, Ki Yong isn't giving me any leeway.” He glanced at his watch. “I'm allowing myself your company while Firestorm takes your father and brother, but you'll have to join them before I leave here tonight.”

  That telltale glance Trask had given his watch scared her. Time might be running out.

  Stall. Give Silver and George time to get here.

  “Then may I spend a few minutes alone with them?”

  He hesitated and then shrugged. “Why not? It might make the experience more poignant.” He headed for the door. “I'll give you fifteen minutes.”

  Immediately after the door closed behind him, she ran to the nightstand and opened the drawer. No scissors, dammit. Nothing sharp enough to cut the ropes.

  “What are you doing?” her father asked.

  “Looking for something to get you free.”

  If she broke the window, Trask would hear it before she could get the shards . . . She went to the bureau and started going through the top drawer.

  Nothing.

  “Try to make a deal with Trask,” Ron Murphy said. “You didn't even try to persuade the son of a bitch. He's your brother. Save him.”