Jacobs laughed.
You lost count, accused Weasel.
I didnt, Marcus said. Ninety-one.
Jacobs picked up the count again. Ninety-two. Ninety-three.
He does kind of look like you, said Garcia.
Marcus grunted. Upside down? Sweaty?
CO said you should see him, sir.
Marcus thought about it as he pushed his body up, balancing all one hundred ninety-seven pounds on his palms and forearms. He owed the CO. Big time.
Where is he? Ingram? he asked at last.
Garcia smiled thinly. Waiting in the hall. Him and his bodyguards.
Ninety-nine, one hundred! Jacobs finished in triumph. You saw it, Weasel. You tell your guys to pay up.
Marcus lowered his feet to the floor and stood. What does a banker need with bodyguards on a military base?
I told you, hes not really a banker. Hes some kind of financial genius they recruited to catch the World Bank robbers. And one of the suits with him is a fed.
Marcus wiped the sweat from his chest with his discarded shirt. Well, if they want my help, theyve got lousy intel. I barely made it through algebra.
Garcia straightened away from the dresser. You want me to get rid of him, Lieutenant?
Marcus pulled a clean T-shirt from his drawergray, with Property of the U.S. Navy stamped across the front. He had an instant memory of Samantha lying next to him in bed, laughter in her voice and desire in her eyes.
Do I get to take off your shirt, too?
Wellin the interest of fairness.
His hands clenched on the shirt.
Sir?
What? Oh. Hell. Garcia was going to think he was losing his hearing. Or his mind. No, Ill see him.
Garcia nodded and crossed to the door. Hoo yah, sir.
Ingram came in with the fed and the other guy. Jacobs stood. Weasel scrambled from the floor. With Marcuss men and Ingrams bodyguards jockeying for position, it took longer than it should have to get the greetings over with and clear the room. Marcus used the time to size up his visitor, and noted with respect that Ingram did the same.
He does kind of look like you.
Maybe.
Black hair, blue eyes, mid-thirties. Ingram was maybe a couple of years older. Marcus had more muscle, but Ingram had an extra inch of height. And better clothes. The financier held his own in the staring match, then grimaced slightly when they tested grips with a handshake.
You want to sit down? Marcus asked, gesturing to one of the rooms two chairs.
Thanks. Ingram took the nearest one.
Marcus sat on the edge of his mattress. It was his room. His turf. Sorry to keep you waiting.
Ingram smiled faintly. I think thats my line. Youve been here five days already. I was out of town when Samantha first called.
Marcus wasnt discussing Samantha with this suit. The investigation?
No, I was in Arizona on business. Ingram paused. Family business.
Marcus grinned. Funny, you dont look Italian.
Ingrams eyes narrowed. Youre not what I expected.
Yeah, well, I wasnt expecting you at all, pal. Why dont you tell me what youre doing here?
But instead of answering, Ingram asked his own question. What have you heard about Code Proteus?
Proteus. That was the name of the project Samantha had wanted to talk about. Marcus felt his muscles tense, and deliberately relaxed them.
Enough to know you shouldnt believe everything you hear, he said.
Jake Ingram nodded. Fair enough. Let me tell you what I know, and then you can tell me what you believe.
Back in the 1960s, a scientist named Henry Bloomfield was determined to eliminate birth defects and inherited diseases through genetic engineering. Eventually, he decided to design perfect human beings. And he was respected enough that he obtained funding for his efforts through the Medusa research branch of the CIA. Are you with me so far?
Yeah. Mad scientist wants superbabies. Government pays. Did he get them?
Yes, he did, although not entirely in the manner he originally intended. He actually fell in love with one of his assistants on the project, a young woman named Violet. Somethingsadness? regret?momentarily deepened Ingrams eyes and roughened his voice. We know that Violet carried a number of genetically manipulated babies to term. Unfortunately, some of the other scientists connected with the project lacked Henry Bloomfields talent. And his scruples. They murdered Henry, hoping to claim the credit for and profits from his work. Violet fled with Henrys notes and their children, who were sent into hiding. And our government, suspicious of the murder and alarmed by the direction the research was taking, pulled the plug on the project. The whole thing was hushed up.
Marcuss pulse was too fast. His stomach was churning. He crossed his arms against his chest. If this project was so hush-hush, how come you know so much about it?
Because I am one of the products of Code Proteus, Jake Ingram replied. Sowe now believewas the perpetrator of the World Bank heist. My sister Gretchen, who deciphered Violets clues to the hiding place of Henry Bloomfields notes, is another.
Bloomfield left notes? On what? How to build a superbaby in seven simple steps?
Bloomfield documented his research, yes. He recorded his notes on old reel-to-reel computer tapes. I retrieved the tapes from a safety deposit box in Bluewater, Arizona. And Gretchen is currently working in a safe location to decode them.
Great. Why are you telling me this?
Jake Ingram held Marcuss eyes for a long moment. Because you are the fourth surviving child of the project.
Marcus recoiled. All his life hed wanted to be accepted. Normal. Whoa. No. No way.
I had you investigated, Jake Ingram said. And Ive talked to Samantha Barnes. Your special strength, the timing of your adoption, your memory loss, your nightmaresthey all fit the profile.
It was too much to deal with. Too much to take in. Marcus seized on the one thing that offered hope. You saidyou have a sister?
We have a sister, Ingram corrected gently. Two, actually. Dr. Gretchen Wagner Miller, the noted cryptologist. And Faith. We havent found her yet.
Marcus didnt want to accept it. Couldnt believe it. And yet he had to ask, had to know if the sister Ingram was talking about matched the child in his dreams. Is one of them kind of small? Dark-haired? Bossy and really smart?
Compared to you, I imagine most women seem small. And both the girls were always smart. But it sounds to me as if youre describing Faith. The two of you always had a special bond.
Marcus eyed this stranger, Jake Ingram, sitting at ease in the ordinary, durable, navy-issue armchair and talking comfortably about genetic engineering and government cover-ups and murder.
Marcus jerked his chin up, disguising his fear and curiosity as rudeness. So if youre the product of genetic engineering, what can you do, exactly? Walk on water? Fly?
Im good with numbers, Ingram said. I manipulate figures.
Marcus snorted. Thats a supe
rpower?
For the first time, humor gleamed in the other mans eyes. It is the way I do it.
Marcus almost smiled. And the others? he asked abruptly.
Gretchen, as I told you, is an extraordinary cryptologist. We believe well find Faith working in some branch of medicine. She was always gifted that way. Gideonour missing brotheris a technological genius.
So, if youre right, Im not only a freak, Marcus said, Im the dumb freak in a family of freaks.
Jake Ingram looked taken aback. Thats certainly one way to put it. Another way would be to say you are the only one of the Code Proteus survivors to receive amazing physical gifts.
Marcus stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Im also nuts. Or didnt Samantha tell you that?
His brotherGod, could he really have a brother?watched him warily as he paced the room. What makes you think youre nuts?
I tried to kill her. Repeatedly. First I practically threw her down a well and then I booby-trapped the house, and when that didnt work I tried to strangle her with my bare hands. Not the perfect child our scientist father probably had in mind when he started his little test tube experiments.
Actually, youre not crazy. Youre hypnotized.
Marcus pivoted. You want to run that by me again?
Baxter took advantage of deep hypnotic conditioning that was implanted in youin me, in all of uswhen we were children. Frankly, Im surprised you held out against it as long and as well as you did. The other scientists associated with the original Code Proteus project were always worried about you. Apparently they feared your strength would make you difficult to control. So they persuaded Bloomfield and Violet to allow them to implant youand eventually, all of uswith hypnotic triggers.
What kind of triggers?
Nursery rhymes.
Hector Protector was dressed all in green.
Hell.
So I hear Mother Goose and go around killing people?
Ingram looked startled. No. No, the triggers were designed to induce a state of hypersuggestibility that made the subjectsusresponsive to commands.
Marcus frowned, still trying to fit the pieces together. So, who would know about these triggers?
The scientists allied themselves into the Coalition. They know.
Baxter said there was a Coalition mole within DS.
Yes. Baxter was that mole.
And where is he now?
He got away from us, Ingram admitted. By the time Samantha talked to Matt Tynan and Matt got hold of me, Baxter had already cleared out. But were sure now he was on the payroll of the Coalition.
Fear cramped Marcuss gut. Then Samantha is still in danger.
Not as much as she was.
Because Im locked up, he said flatly.
Because shes a less attractive target. The treaty is already ratified. Once she makes her presentation to the Euro-Atlantic Partnership Council meeting this week, her death is less likely to derail the Delmonico Accord. Youre probably a bigger target now than she is.
Why?
Because you could still be useful to the Coalition. As long as you respond to your hypnotic trigger, they can activate a state where youre vulnerable to their commands. We believe thats what happened to Gideon.
Marcus absorbed the horrible implications of that. To live forever as the unwitting tool of a shadowy criminal organization, never knowing what you might have done or might be forced to doIt was unthinkable. Unacceptable.
He squared his shoulders. So what do I do now? Fall on my sword?
Would you? Ingram asked. It didnt sound like a challenge. More like he genuinely wanted to know.
Die for the good of my country? Marcus took a deep breath. Here, at last, was a question he could answer all by himself. Deep regret weighted his chest for the life he would not have, for the love he would not share with Samantha. But it didnt change his answer. Yeah. I would.
Jake Ingram smiled. Then isnt it a good thing that you dont have to?
Seventeen
T ime healed all wounds. Work was the great analgesic.
Unfortunately, time and work didnt do much for a bruised heart.
Or, apparently, an upset stomach.
Samantha took a cautious sip of tea. She had returned from addressing the EAPC meeting in Brussels with instructions for a new diplomatic initiative, and a mild stomach virus. Until this morning shed never attended a meeting with crackers in her briefcase. Yesterday shed actually had to ask her information officer not to wear perfume to staff briefings because the scent made her nauseous.
Philip Scott put a sheaf of letters at her right hand and frowned at her tea tray. You didnt eat.
She held the phone in place with her jaw and waved a hard roll in his direction. Im working on it. Oh, drat, I got crumbs on tomorrows guest listYes, yes, Ill hold, she said into the receiver.
Philip shifted the guest list to the top of a stack of reports on land mine proliferation. Would you like me to place a call for you?
She smiled at him gratefully. No, thank you, Philip. This is personal.
Still trying to reach Lieutenant Evans?
Ouch.
No, IJake? But it was only his answering machine. She glanced at the ornate clock keeping time above the marble fireplace. Five oclock. Which made it right before lunch in Washington. Where the heck was he?
Maam, are you trying to reach Jake Ingram?
She depressed the button on her phone. Yes. Do you know where he is?
He called this morning while you were at the Ministry of Trade. The message is there on your desk. He said to tell you he was leaving with his fiance for Texas tonight, but the situation is basically unchanged.
Unchanged, she repeated flatly.
Philip nodded. He said you would know what that meant.
Unfortunately, she did.
It meant Marcus was still undergoing extensive psychological evaluation, counseling and deprogramming with the psychiatrist Jake had recommendedhis sister-in-law, Dr. Maisy Dalton.
It meant despite the intervention of Matt Tynan in the White House to ensure that Marcus wasnt actually charged with anything, he was still clinging to his confinement to quarters.
It meant he was still refusing to see her or speak with her.
She knew all that. She just didnt want to accept it.
Thank you, Philip.
Her stomach lurched. Grimly, she tore another chunk from her hard roll, put it in her mouth and chewed.
Marcus felt sick. He stared at the two photos on the COs desk: a smiling matte color portrait from the Bureau of Diplomatic Security and a glossy black-and-white photo lifted from a security camera in the Munich International Airport. Despite the superficial differenceshair color, eyeglasses, cheek padsthe subject was obviously the same man.
It took awhile for the Germans to make the connection, Commander Woods explained. Hes traveling under a different name with what we now assume is a fake
passport. But intel ran a computer analysis of his bone configuration with the images from the airport. I just got the report. Theres an almost seventy percent probability this guy is Jerry Baxter.
Youll get him at the border, Marcus said. As much as he tried, the comment came out sounding like a question.
Greg Woods wouldnt quite meet his eyes. Well certainly give the Delmonicans every assistance we can in securing their known points of entry. If thats Baxters destination. He could be planning to join DeBruzkya in Rebeliaalthough what kind of welcome he receives may depend on whether he achieves his objectives first.
Marcus remembered Baxters smooth assurances the last time hed talked to the son of a bitch on the phone. We are very close to achieving our objectives. His hands clenched in his lap.
You think Samantha Barnes is still a target.
If I didnt, Woods said frankly, I wouldnt have called you in here.
Embassy security is not the responsibility of the Navy SEALs, sir.
No, Woods admitted. But I hoped you would make it yours.
Marcus stared again at the two photos on his commanders desk. His heart was thudding. His palms were sweating. Im not sure I can be responsible for anything, sir. Including my own behavior.
That doctor of yours thinks otherwise. She told me youre fit to return to duty.
With all due respect, sir, shes not a navy doctor.
Which is the only reason youre still in the navy, son, so spare us both the pity party.
At some point you must accept that you are not responsible for the attempts on Samantha Barness life, Dr. Dalton had lectured him only yesterday. Whether you choose to be a part of that lifeWell, thats up to you, isnt it?
Maybe. Or maybe Samantha would take a good look at his dangerous job, his time-consuming deployments, his blemished record, his total lack of family tree and his freak-ozoid gene pool and figure out he didnt have a lot to offer a rising diplomatic star with baby-making aspirations. Once she got over feeling guilty about the way hed screwed up his career, she could probably have a nice life.
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 21
