“Let’s get the show on the road!” Dick yelled at the pilot.
The pilot complied and began to taxi down the runway. Andrew closed his eyes in trepidation of the takeoff. It had been years since he’d been on a plane but he’d always hated this part. But the expected jolt that always made his stomach lurch never happened. Instead the plane began to slow down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Dick yelled at the pilot.
“I told you, we are too heavy to take off! We have to drop weight or you can forget it. It’s not something I can control. Its goddamn science!” the pilot yelled back.
Andrew felt the plane turn and this time his stomach did lurch. He was grateful the Twinkie he had just gorged didn’t come back up.
“I’m taking us back around for another go at it. You have two minutes to decide what stays and what goes,” the pilot said.
Dick mumbled something obscene under his breath before asking, “How much do we need to drop?”
“Hell, we are way fucking over, at least a thousand pounds.”
Nobody but Andrew seemed to understand the importance of this little drama. He sat up straight and put on his most helpful smile. “Listen, Dick, there were lots of items I saw while we were moving everything that really aren’t all that important to Project Simon. You want me to start sorting?”
Dick swiveled on Andrew with a look of intense contempt on his face but said nothing.
“What the hell are you talking about, Andrew, all this stuff is important,” Sarah said. “You know, now that I think about it, you have all my research on a flash drive. You really don’t need me much at this point. You, John and Todd did most of the heavy lifting on this one. Dick, if you need someone to stay behind, I gladly volunteer.”
“I second that for myself,” Dharmesh said and then added with a chuckle, “I stopped being mission critical on Project Simon a few years back. I can stay behind as well.”
The plane lurched again as it swung back around to its original takeoff position and stopped. The pilot said, “Its time, Dick, did you decide what you are leaving behind?”
“Yes, we got it squared away,” Dick replied as he open the cabin door. “Andrew, tell me, are Dharmesh and Sarah the ones to stay behind?”
“No!” Andrew insisted. “They are both critical cogs in the process, they have to stay, just listen, let’s leave some of the gear-“
“Fuck you, Penrod!” Sarah screamed and burst into tears. “You are such a coward! You know you don’t need us anymore!”
“Calm down, Sarah, I’m just messing with Andrew. If you and Dharmesh say you aren’t mission critical anymore then I believe you. It makes the most sense to leave you behind.”
Sarah seemed visibly relieved as she and Dharmesh unbuckled their seatbelts and followed Dick to the cabin door. Andrew was horrified to see they were actually buying what Dick was selling. He opened his mouth to make one last attempt to save them both but was stifled by a nasty look from Dick.
He waited by the open door and gestured for Sarah and Dharmesh to precede him through. “Mr. Smith, I will need your help with the cargo doors please. Like it or not we are also going to have to leave some of the equipment behind.”
The soldier Andrew had knocked over on his way to the helicopter hopped out of the plane as well. Dick gave Andrew a wink before he stepped out. Andrew plugged his ears because he knew what was going to happen. Doing his best to ignore John who was whispering urgent inquiries in his direction, he studied the ceiling of the plane, glanced at Todd’s stupid head and waited. Sure enough, two minutes later a shot was fired, piercing Andrew’s self-imposed cone of silence with lucid clarity. He immediately started crying but his tears were interrupted with two more gunshots. John made a move toward the door to investigate but Andrew nearly tackled him.
“Sit down,” Andrew said, “Dick may not kill you but he will definitely hurt you.”
John looked at him like Andrew had betrayed them all. “How did you know he would do that?” he demanded.
Andrew shot him a disgusted look. “How could you not know? The man is not only crazy but a sadist!”
They moved back to their seats a second before Dick reentered the cabin. He looked from Andrew to John with a smug smile on his face as he took his seat and buckled in.
“We should be good to go now,” he called to the silent pilot. The plane taxied down the runway and took off without issue this time. John and Todd were silent while Andrew was busy trying to get his emotions under control.
“You should be happy, Andrew, it could have been you out there,” Dick said after they were in the air for a while.
“You know perfectly well you can’t kill me, Dick,” Andrew fired back.
This elicited a genuine chuckle from Dick, “That is very true. At least for now.”
“Hey, Dick,” Todd chimed in, “Andrew and John were whispering to each other while you were taking out the trash.”
“Shut the fuck up, Todd. Nobody likes a snitch,” Dick said. “Besides I feel pretty confident Andrew and John are gonna be good little soldiers from here on out. Isn’t that right, boys?” He didn’t wait for a response just leaned his chair back and shut his eyes. Evidently, murder was a tiresome chore.
…
They flew for a couple of hours to another private airstrip outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma. There, they deplaned, loaded everything up in a battered white moving truck and drove across town to another tiny airport. By the time dawn’s light crested the morning skyline they were touching down in a small Minnesota city called Crystal. Andrew was exhausted from the whole experience but had been unable to manage anything more than a few short naps the entire plane ride.
He waited with John and Todd on the tarmac next to a black cargo van while Dick dealt with the pilot who had refused to exit the plane. Andrew could hear him arguing with the pilot and fully expected to hear another gunshot. He was surprised when Dick emerged a few minutes later and closed the door behind him. He must have killed the pilot silently.
“Let’s get loaded boys. We’re almost home. Soon you’ll be sawing logs and dreaming of puppies,” Dick said.
With a collective sigh John, Todd and Andrew began loading the supplies into the back of the van. Andrew was very surprised to see the small plane that had brought them to Minnesota turn around and take off as soon as they were out of the way. Dick hadn’t killed the pilot after all. This didn’t make any sense to Andrew. Why murder Sarah, Dharmesh and the guard and let this other man go free? He said nothing about this inconsistency as he climbed into the rear passenger seat next to John.
Dick drove and Todd rode shotgun. Andrew wondered how culpable Todd had been in whatever Dick had done back in Area 51. Yet another mystery in this evolving plot of Dick’s. The sun shined brightly from East, spotlighting their progress down Highway 81 towards Downtown, Minneapolis. Nerves were fried and no one could sleep.
“Are you ever gonna tell us what’s going on, Dick?” John said from the back seat.
“You are all smart guys, John. I am sure you have already figured out the general idea. With a little help from my friend Todd I changed the table stakes where the virus is concerned. I positioned myself to be holding all the cards when the virus starts to manifest in public. If it hadn’t been for Andy’s stunt with the blankets the Syndicate wouldn’t have known until it was too late.”
Andrew and John exchanged looks at this revelation. “What do you mean you changed the table stakes with the virus?” Andrew demanded.
“As it is,” Dick continued, ignoring Andrew’s question, “We are now on the run from the most powerful organization in the history of the world.” He glanced at John in the rear-view mirror. “You can thank Andrew if you end up getting killed.”
“Goddamn it, Dick, what did you do to the virus?”
“Me?” Dick said innocently, “I didn’t do anything. Todd did it for me.”
Todd turned in his chair and flashed them his toothy smile. It made Andrew think of
an old time black and white horror film monster he could see in his mind but couldn’t remember its name.
Andrew sat forward as the van rolled on to their final destination, “Todd, I need you to explain, and be very specific, what you did to the virus.”
“Just relax,” Todd answered, thick strings of saliva clinging to his teeth as he spoke, “I switched the prototype you guys made back to the original. No big deal.”
Andrew and John looked at each other in horror.
“It’s going to be fine,” Dick said, “that’s why I have you three to help me control things if it looks like it’s going to take a turn for the worse.”
“Oh, you fucking idiot,” Andrew said, “Do you not remember when I told you about the extinction event? Do you not remember what that pilot looked like? We are all fucked! You realize you just sold all of humanity up the river, right? Why would you do this?”
“I’m guessing things didn’t work out the way he thought they would with his betters. Did they skip over you for a promotion, Dickie-boy?” John said. “Don’t get to climb that next rung on the world domination ladder?”
“Is it true, Dick? Did you do this because your feelings were hurt?” Andrew said.
“If I wasn’t exhausted and driving, I would come back there and slap the shit out of both of you,” Dick snarled from the driver’s seat. “Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear your voices until the next time I ask you a question. If the situation is as dire as you are making it out to be then maybe I don’t need you two all that much. You ought to think about that before you go spouting your mouths off.”
The remainder of the drive was silent but for the sound of the road and the ringing in Andrew’s ears which occurred whenever he was stressed out. The weight of the world will do that to a person. From Highway 81 they took West Broadway all the way downtown. Dick drove them to a parking garage underneath Investor Tower. The road weary men loaded the stolen supplies into the cargo elevator and rode it to the 41rst floor.
The security doors opened to complete darkness. “Wait here,” Dick said. Disappearing into the gloom. Andrew could hear him fumbling around a few feet away. Florescent lights flickered on and the room lit up with harsh light. Andrew couldn’t see anything through the glare but soon his eyes adjusted. The entire floor had been retrofitted to meet their needs, essentially becoming a transported version of what they’d been living in the past several years at Area 51.
“As you can see the lab is here in front of you, to the left you will find the living quarters and facilities. This is where we ride this thing out,” Dick said.
“Aren’t we just a trifle overexposed? We are in the middle of a major metropolitan city. If all hell breaks loose we are gonna have nowhere to run.” John said.
“Hiding is most effective when done in plain sight,” Dick said. “I expect this city to be the safest place in the country before too much longer. In any case, nobody can see inside and a special key card is needed to get in here and I have it. The three of you have one very important mission left before your Project Simon work is finished. You won’t be leaving this floor until it is done.”
“What is the mission?” asked Andrew.
“Should be obvious, you have all the samples, the prototypes and your research to date. Find me a vaccine, gentlemen.” Dick said before making a beeline for the more comfortable side of the floor.
Andrew noticed he didn’t say cure just vaccine. But Andrew knew it didn’t matter. He had already failed at finding a cure or a vaccine even though he’d spent years trying in the hopes of saving humanity from the Syndicate’s plan to use mind control as a form of mass slavery. Best that could be hoped for was for him to modify the control technology. The items he and John had created for the Syndicate would be useless against the strain Dick and Todd had unleashed on the public. They would have to retrofit it. Their only enemy was time. The virus incubated for a period of weeks before it changed its victims irrevocably. When that happened there wouldn’t be much of humanity left to protect, only beasts and chaos. A whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. John shot him a dirty look and Todd laughed. Andrew felt the stolen phone hiding in his back pocket. He figured it was a lost cause but it still managed to give him a small amount of comfort.
Chapter 22: A Real Shitty Friend
The Past
“I’ll have the Juicy Lucy, please, and fries. My colleague will have the same,” Bill told the pretty waitress and watched politely as she made a note on her pad.
“Bill, you know I am trying to watch what I eat,” Derrick grumbled. He barely fit into his side of the booth Bill had insisted they sit in.
“Matt’s isn’t the type of place where you order a salad, Derrick. Quit pretending you don’t want the burger.”
Derrick mumbled something obscene under his breath while Bill smiled a particularly condescending smile at him from across the table.
“Did you get anything from Shipman?”
“Why do you think you and I are spending so much time together?” replied Bill.
“I thought you were sweet on me, is that not the case, boss?”
“A lovely thought, Derrick, but alas my heart belongs to Uncle Sam and he is a jealous lover. As a matter of fact I did get something from Shipman. The skinny bastard made a phone call right after I left.”
“The fact that he didn’t catch your bug means he is missing a step. That’s not like him.”
“I thought that too. He must be under a lot of stress, probably in over his head,” Bill said.
“Anyway who did he call?”
“No clue, he didn’t use any names but he did manage to put a half-assed hit out on me.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
Weren’t you college buddies or something?”
“Roommates, actually, for two years. He has always been somewhat of a snake but I’ve never felt his fangs. Not for real anyway. It’s gotta be the pressure of whatever it is he is mixed up in. The sooner we figure it out, the better off we’ll all be.”
“Why did you say the hit was half assed?”
“Towards the end of the exchange he tried to call it off. It didn’t sound like he was successful though.”
“Son of a bitch. What we ought to do is head back over there and pound his ass until he gives up whatever he knows.”
“I thought of that too but the trouble is I don’t think he knows all that much. We’d be blowing our wad on penny slots, I want the big money.”
“So what do we do in the meantime while you got some unknown person or group gunning for you?”
We figure out a way to leverage them out of wanting to kill me, show them I have value, can be an asset.”
“To what?”
“The million dollar question, Derrick. I have no fucking idea. The mind-control scheme I suppose.”
The meal came and was dispatched with the haste of men who thought maybe it could be their last. Bill picked up the tab and they left the crowded bar with their eyes open and senses on high alert. It had been a good many years since Bill had seen actual danger due to his profession. In truth, it felt invigorating. From the extra swagger in Derrick’s stride he could tell the man felt the same. There was danger in that feeling. He wasn’t exactly a young man anymore. Lack of attention or quick reflexes in the espionage business was a quick way to get a person killed. It was time to dust off what was left of yesterday’s skills.
Later that afternoon, after a long circuitous route home to his apartment on 2nd and Marquette, he pulled out a bottle of fine bourbon and poured himself a stiff one. Then it was off to his bedroom closet where he opened his gun safe and removed his Makarov pistol from the oily rag he kept it in.
The next hour was spent in his study cleaning and loading his old gun. The weapon had been his faithful sidekick long before he’d ever met Derrick Lewis. He felt like he was regaining a piece of his youth just loading it. It would stay with him now for however long he remained involved
with the Shipman affair.
After cleaning his weapon and pouring another drink, he sat down and pulled out the files he and Derrick had acquired a few days prior. It was time to examine the facts as he knew them. Only then could he determine what information he didn’t have and where he’d be likely to find it.
It had all started with a phone call.
The call had come to him two weeks prior from an old colleague. Chip Fielding had been an analyst with the DIA and a damn good one at that. Back in the day when Bill had been an active operative, he hadn’t had much time for people like Chip but the little egghead had grown on Bill. They’d developed something resembling a friendship. They kept in touch on occasion but it wasn’t uncommon for years to pass between phone calls. When they did speak it was only to talk about the good old days or memorialize a fallen colleague.
While Bill was known for his vicious effectiveness in the field which included more than his share of wet work, Chip had an invaluable skill set when it came to recognizing patterns out of seemingly unrelated streams of data. Chip could see things nobody else could and Bill always appreciated his brilliance. Like Bill, when the DIA suddenly folded Chip chose a twilight career. Only his was as a tax man with the IRS. He used his connections to find a comfortable spot in the Virginia office where he used his skills to find tax evaders for Uncle Sam. He had fallen in love with a truly dreadful woman and he wanted to be as near to her as possible. She had lived in Roanoke.
“Still have any useful connections with the FBI?” the reedy voice had blared through Bill’s handset without any preamble.
“Huh?” Bill asked. He’d been dozing in his office chair when he answered the phone and he didn’t immediately place his old coworker’s voice.
“You know, the folks in the black suits with sensible haircuts?”
“Chip?”
“Well it isn’t Dale!”
Bill groaned into the phone, Chip Fielding could be annoying as hell. The IRS was the perfect place for him. “How long has it been, Chip, five years? You still a tax man?”
Running with the Horde (Book 2): Delusions of Monsters Page 19
