Trade-Off

by Trade-Off (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ve told you,’ Donahue said, ‘that I don’t know the details.’

  ‘No,’ Hunter replied. ‘I don’t mean what happens to them while they’re held by Roland Oliver. I mean what happens to them afterwards.’

  ‘There’s some kind of a resettlement program,’ Donahue said. ‘As far as I know, after the research and treatment are complete, they’re relocated.’

  As he said the words, Donahue mentally crossed his fingers. Resettlement and relocation did describe what happened to Roland Oliver’s subjects, but only if you stretched the truth absolutely to breaking point.

  ‘How do they get to Nevada?’ Hunter asked.

  Donahue relaxed slightly. He was on safer ground. ‘They’re collected from wherever they live by ambulance, like regular patients, and taken to Las Vegas. They –’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ Hunter said. ‘They collect people from all over the United States and deliver them to Las Vegas by ambulance? Why don’t they fly them down? Travelling by road must mean some of them are in transit for days at a time.’

  Donahue nodded. ‘Some of them are, but it’s considered safer – more secure for Roland Oliver, that is – to only use ambulances. Transporting patients by air always means questions get asked that have to be answered.’

  ‘OK,’ Hunter said. ‘Then what happens?’

  ‘There’s an Air Force Base at Vegas called McCarran, where the subjects are assembled and checked, and then they’re flown out to the facility in batches.’

  ‘Where is it, this facility?’

  Donahue shook his head. ‘That I don’t know,’ he said, ‘other than that it’s somewhere in Nevada.’

  Hunter stood silently for a few moments. ‘I’m not sure I’m buying this,’ he said. ‘The secret experimentation, yes – the fucking American Government’s corrupt enough for that, no problem – but why the kill orders on anybody who finds out about it?’

  Donahue smiled slightly over the pain from his crushed and bleeding fingers. ‘You’re not a politician,’ he said, ‘in fact you’re not even an American. It’s different over here. If word of what’s been happening in Nevada for the last fifty years ever leaked out, it would be political suicide for any government, no matter what party held power. It was decided that a few ‘accidental’ deaths were less of a risk than disclosure.’

  ‘So why not shut down Roland Oliver and remove the risk altogether?’

  ‘We can’t afford to. The advances in science which have resulted from this project are enormous. It’s the single most valuable source of technology in the world today. We simply can’t shut it down.’

  FBI Headquarters, J. Edgar Hoover Building, Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.

  William McGrath, Assistant Director of the FBI’s Criminal Investigative Division, walked into Myers’s office and sat down.

  ‘Any progress?’ he demanded.

  ‘We know where they got the car from,’ Myers said. McGrath nodded for him to continue. ‘They hired the goddamn thing from Avis, just a few blocks away,’ Myers said, scowling. ‘One of them paid for it with a credit card in the name of Wilson.’

  The name meant nothing to either of them.

  ‘Anything else?’

  Myers nodded. His recollection of the second call from Nevada was still distressingly fresh in his memory. ‘We know who they are.’

  ‘Really? How do you know?’

  Myers shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. McGrath, but I can’t tell you that. The information comes from a source outside the Bureau that only Director Donahue has clearance to access.’

  ‘So how come you know about it?’ McGrath demanded. ‘You don’t have any special clearances that I’m aware of.’

  ‘No,’ Myers said, with a rueful smile. ‘I’m cleared to Secret only. I was just the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shortly after the Director left the Headquarters, there was a Priority One call for him, and I took it. Now the only person in the building that this source will talk to is me, and I really wish I could pass the buck. This is getting real serious.’

  ‘OK,’ McGrath grunted. ‘So what has this higher source told you?’

  Myers glanced down at a sheet of paper on his desk. ‘The names of the people who snatched the Director are Reilly and Hunter. Reilly is the sheriff of a town called Beaver Creek in western Montana and –’

  ‘I know the names,’ McGrath interrupted. ‘I briefed the Director about an incident at Beaver Creek a few days ago. There’s an APB out for Reilly, isn’t there? Isn’t he carrying some kind of disease?’

  Myers shook his head. ‘Right perp, Mr. McGrath, but that story was just a device. He got himself involved in this classified project, and the APB was issued to try to get somebody to bring him in, or preferably take him out.’

  ‘But Hunter? He’s supposed to be working for us, isn’t he?’ McGrath said, almost to himself. ‘What the hell’s he doing mixed up in this?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Myers said, ‘but it’s obvious that Reilly and Hunter are working together. What I also don’t know, and we probably won’t find out until we catch these two bastards, is what the hell they’re trying to achieve by kidnapping the Director of the FBI in broad daylight off Pennsylvania Avenue.’

  ‘Any progress in finding them?’

  ‘No,’ Myers said bluntly. There’s an APB out, of course, we’ve got helicopters covering the area, and we’ve got the local airports sealed up tight, but so far there’ve been no confirmed sightings since they left the Avenue.’

  ‘So now we just sit and wait.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Myers said, then paused. ‘There’s just one other thing, Mr. McGrath.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘This source has issued Priority One Termination Orders against Reilly and Hunter. They’re both to be shot on sight. No warnings, no deviations.’

  McGrath just looked at him in silence for a few moments. ‘What the hell kind of authority has this goddamn source got if he can do that?’ he demanded.

  ‘The highest, sir. He holds a Presidential Directive – and before you ask, yes, I have checked that out with the White House. Compliance with his instructions are mandatory for all law enforcement agencies, including the FBI.’

  Woods south of Donovan’s Corner, Virginia

  ‘Another matter, Director Donahue,’ Hunter said. ‘I have – or rather I had – a partner. Christy-Lee Kaufmann. Is her name familiar to you?’

  Donahue nodded, but couldn’t meet Hunter’s eyes.

  ‘You know where she is?’ Reilly asked.

  ‘What?’ Donahue said, his head snapping rapidly round to stare at the sheriff. ‘I was told she was –’ His voice died away.

  ‘Yes?’ Hunter said. ‘You were told she was what, exactly?’

  The Director cleared his throat. ‘It was just procedure,’ he said, his voice high and rapid with nervous tension. ‘We follow a series of steps whenever we feel that Roland Oliver is in danger of being compromised. She was – er – she was supposed to have been eliminated.’

  ‘That’s “eliminated” as in “killed”, right?’ Reilly demanded.

  Donahue nodded again.

  ‘But she wasn’t,’ Hunter said, his eyes boring into the other man’s face. ‘She was snatched from her apartment. Or do your hired thugs always drag their victims off somewhere before they kill them?’

  ‘No, they don’t. They should never do anything like that,’ Donahue replied, shaking his head. ‘Their orders are simple enough. Every elimination – and we only do this if we feel there’s a real danger of Roland Oliver’s operations being exposed – is supposed to look like an accident. You know, a mugging that ends up with the victim’s death, or a road accident, something like that.’

  ‘So why the change of routine?’

  Donahue looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly, ‘unless … How old was she?’

  ‘Twenty-eight,’ Hunter said. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Again Donahue couldn
’t meet the Englishman’s stare. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘she probably meets the criteria for Roland Oliver. If she hasn’t been eliminated, it’s just possible she’s been fed into the system.’

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  Randy Douglas braked the ambulance smoothly to a halt outside the motel around five miles south of Idaho Falls a little after five thirty, local time. While Robbins walked into the reception area to book two rooms, Douglas climbed into the back of the vehicle and began checking the life support systems.

  Unlike a conventional ambulance, each Roland Oliver vehicle contained what amounted to a miniaturized intensive care unit, capable of keeping the subjects alive and in perfect health, but deeply unconscious, until their arrival at McCarran air base. The rear section of the ambulance was completely self-contained, powered by an independent bank of batteries that was backed-up by a fuel cell about the size and shape of a shoebox. Without any external power being applied, and without the necessity for manual intervention, the life-support systems could operate fully autonomously for a little over a week.

  Douglas and Robbins were well-used to over-nighting, leaving the ambulance outside the building, and had no qualms about doing so. The locks on the vehicle’s doors were electronically-keyed deadlocks, capable of resisting literally any attempt at picking or forcing. Towing the ambulance away was impossible, because the wheels were locked electrically from within the transmission and brake assemblies. Cutting the handbrake cable would achieve nothing.

  About the only way the vehicle could be removed was by using a crane or a specialized car-recovery vehicle, and the highly-sensitive alarm system ensured that any attempt to do that would awaken the entire neighbourhood. And in any case, who would want to steal an ambulance?

  Robbins emerged from the motel reception with the room keys as Douglas stepped out of the ambulance with two small overnight bags. He gave one to Robbins, turned and aimed a remote control at the driver’s door, listened for the double ‘beep’ which indicated the doors were locked and the alarm set, and followed his partner towards the bedrooms.

  Woods south of Donovan’s Corner, Virginia

  Reilly and Hunter left Donahue and walked across to where they’d parked the Ford. The sheriff checked that he was well out of earshot, then spoke softly to the Englishman.

  ‘So what do we do with him?’

  ‘We let him go,’ Hunter said.

  ‘You sure ’bout that?’ Reilly asked. ‘The minute he reaches a phone we’ll have the cops in every state of the Union lookin’ for us, with a pretty good idea where to start.’

  Hunter nodded.

  ‘We’ve probably got that problem already,’ he said. ‘We’re letting him go because eventually I want to walk away from this, and so far we haven’t committed any capital crimes.’

  ‘You’re forgetting the two stiffs I left behind me in Beaver Creek.’

  ‘No, I’m including them,’ Hunter said. ‘They were masked intruders who broke into your house waving pistols. You were perfectly within your rights to shoot them down. Donahue knows more than he’s telling, but I think he’s given us enough to go on. Trying to get anything else out of him would be messy and time-consuming, and right now time’s not something we’ve got a lot of. If he’s right and Christy-Lee’s on her way to Nevada to be fed into some medical research program we need to get after her, and quickly.

  ‘What we have to do now is get the hell out of here before some cop with a shotgun and a wanted poster turns up and ruins our day. So we let Donahue go, and maybe even try to get him to help us.’

  Reilly laughed shortly. ‘Yeah, I can see him giving us every assistance.’

  ‘Just watch,’ Hunter replied. ‘All we need is a small diversion.’

  He bent forward and muttered a few words in the sheriff’s ear, then turned and walked back to the bound man. He looked at him for a few moments before he spoke.

  ‘OK, Director Donahue,’ Hunter said. ‘We’ve got to move out pretty quickly, and the way I see it, we’ve got about three choices here. We can let you go, we can take you with us, or we can finish you right now the way you want some cop to finish Dick Reilly here. What do you think we should do?’

  Donahue looked up at the FBI agent, defiance showing again in his eyes, and he shrugged his shoulders as far as he was able. ‘What I say won’t make a damn bit of difference, Hunter, and you know it. But if you kill me you’ll have every cop in America looking for you by nightfall.’

  Hunter grinned at him. ‘As I said to Sheriff Reilly a couple of minutes ago,’ he said, ‘I reckon we’ve got that situation right now. So, whether we kill you or not won’t make any difference at all.’

  Hunter reached inside his jacket, pulled out his Glock and slid back the slide to chamber a round, never taking his eyes off Donahue’s face, which grew paler by the second.

  ‘You got that silencer, Dick?’ he asked.

  ‘Yup, it’s in the trunk,’ Reilly said, playing along, and walked across to the Ford.

  ‘Director, listen to me,’ Hunter hissed urgently, as the sheriff moved away. ‘Reilly’s totally flipped about this, and if I don’t kill you, he will. I just want out, and so far I’ve done nothing, apart from bringing you on this little excursion. Reilly’s already killed two Federal agents.’

  Hunter looked over his shoulder, where Reilly was still rummaging around in the trunk of the Ford, looking for the non-existent silencer.

  ‘He says he’s got nothing to lose. He knows there’s a kill order out on him, and he blames the FBI for that, because the guys who busted into his house were carrying Bureau identification.’

  Hunter saw no reason to mention the other identity cards the men had been carrying.

  ‘We can cancel the kill order,’ Donahue muttered, a faint note of hope in his voice, ‘and I can guarantee you immunity. Immunity for both of you.’

  Hunter shook his head. ‘I don’t know if Reilly would go for that. I don’t think you’ve got a lot of credibility where he’s concerned.’

  Donahue was thinking furiously, knowing that his life quite literally depended upon him coming up with some plan that would satisfy Reilly. ‘Suppose I brought you in myself?’ Donahue said. ‘You keep your weapons and use me as a shield until we get to Pennsylvania Avenue?’

  Hunter considered that for a few moments, then nodded slowly. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That might work, and Reilly might go for it.’ He looked down at Donahue. ‘You give me your word that there’ll be no tricks?’

  ‘Yes,’ the Director said, holding Hunter’s gaze. ‘You have my word, and my guarantee.’

  ‘OK,’ Hunter said again, then turned round. ‘Dick, forget it,’ he called. ‘I think we may have a way out.’

  Reilly slammed the trunk lid down and walked back towards them. He stopped a few feet away and looked down at Donahue. ‘You ain’t gonna trust this bastard, are you?’ he asked.

  Hunter shook his head. ‘Not really, but we have to get this situation under control, and I think Director Donahue might be our ticket out of here.’

  Hunter quickly outlined Donahue’s proposal to Reilly, who nodded.

  ‘OK,’ he conceded, ‘that might do it.’ Reilly looked keenly at the Director. ‘Any tricks, or you do anything I don’t like, and I’ll pop you myself, deal or no deal.’

  Donahue shook his head. ‘You have my word,’ he said. ‘There’ll be no tricks.’

  Reilly nodded again, then pulled out a key, reached down and unlocked the handcuffs around Donahue’s wrists.

  ‘On your feet,’ he ordered, and pulled the Director up.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Hunter said curtly, and led the way to the parked Ford.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thursday

  Virginia

  Ten minutes later Reilly pulled the Ford onto the side of the road.

  Donahue, sitting in the back seat with Hunter alongside him, looked around him apprehensively. ‘Why have we stopped here?’ he asked.

  Reilly looked over at him.<
br />
  ‘Well, we’re not just going to drive straight down Pennsylvania Avenue and park outside FBI Headquarters. Not with every cop in D.C. holding a riot gun and looking out for a black Ford with three men in it. That would be real dumb, right?’

  Hunter unlocked the handcuff on Donahue’s right wrist, then reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his mobile phone and passed it over.

  ‘Call your office,’ he instructed, glancing at his watch, ‘and tell them that we’ll be arriving in two hours. By then I want the Avenue closed to all traffic except this car within one hundred yards of FBI Headquarters. And no pedestrians are to be on the street either. I don’t want any innocent civilians in the firing line.’

  Donahue stared at him. ‘I can’t close Pennsylvania Avenue.’

  ‘As the only alternative you have is that we shoot you right now, I think you’ll find that you can,’ Hunter said. ‘More importantly, I don’t want to see a single cop within half a mile of the Hoover Building. If I do, you’ll find that this evening finishes really early, and very painfully, for you.’

  Donahue nodded, punched numbers into the mobile phone, wincing from the pain in his mutilated fingers, and held the instrument to his ear.

  ‘This is Director Donahue,’ he said, when the call was answered. ‘I’m coming back to the building in two hours, and I’ll have Agent Hunter and Sheriff Reilly with me.’

  The squawk from the other end of the line was even audible to Hunter.

  ‘Did you copy that, Myers?’ Donahue demanded. ‘Right. I want the lowest possible level of security in the area. That means no uniformed officers within half a mile of the building, and no armed guards in the foyer or outside.’

  Hunter passed Donahue a piece of paper. ‘That’s the car number, and tell them it’s a black Ford sedan.’

  Donahue glanced at the paper and read out the registration plate number. ‘It’s a black Ford,’ he said, once Myers had confirmed he’d copied the number. ‘And I don’t know or care how you do it, but get Pennsylvania Avenue closed to all traffic, vehicle and pedestrian. Those are the conditions imposed by Hunter and Reilly and they’re non-negotiable.’