He was one of the many, many faces who had interviewed, or rather interrogated, Finn after their ordeal six weeks ago. If not for his name she probably wouldn’t have remembered him at all. He was immensely forgettable in every way.
“Ms. Zuckerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.” He held his hand out.
Oz shook his hand. “Mr. Knight.”
“We weren’t expecting to see you here today. I was under the impression that Daniela would be here alone,” Knight said.
“Never gonna happen. We’re here to stay.”
“I don’t think that’s the best course of action for this mission. It would be better if you and your family went back to Florida and left this to us.”
Oz laughed. “I say again. Never gonna happen.”
“Look, Ms. Zuckerman, all I’ve got to do is make a phone call and you’ll be out of here anyway. Make it easy on all of us and save yourself a trip to the cells, book a flight and go home.”
“Go ahead. Call whoever you want. This has been cleared way above your pay grade.”
He smirked at her. “We’ll just see about that.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket and turned his back on her. After only seconds of conversation, the relaxed set of his shoulders vanished and he turned back to her, offering an insincere smile as he hung up. “Please call me Stephen. It seems we’ll be working together on this project. No need to be formal.”
Not fooled for an instant but willing to take the olive branch when offered, Oz nodded. “Then I’m Oz.” She pointed to Junior. “This is Lieutenant Commander Charles Zuckerman Junior.”
He held out his hand. “Just call me Junior.” Knight shook his hand and nodded.
“This is my father, Captain William Zuckerman.”
“Billy.”
“And, Daniela, a pleasure to see you again.”
“Like I told you last time we met, call me Finn.” She held out her hand and smiled.
He returned the smile and looked around the room. “There’s certainly a lotta stripes around here.” Knight glanced at Oz. “And your rank is?”
“Was. I was a commander.” Oz smiled as Finn stepped beside her and wrapped her arm around her waist.
“Like I said, a lotta stripes in this room.”
“What can we do for you today, Mr. Knight?” Finn asked, determined to remain professional and not give in to the games that he seemed more than willing to play. She had a job to focus on, and she didn’t need playground antics to distract her.
“There’s been another death in the scientific community, and our source indicates that Mehalik has turned his sights on you, Finn.”
“Shit,” Oz said.
“Who?” Finn asked.
“I’m sorry?” Knight frowned.
“Who did he kill?”
“A Swedish scientist living and working in London, a Dr. Siegfried Jensen.”
Finn sank onto the couch and let her head fall to her chest. “I knew him.”
“How?” Oz rested her hand on Finn’s back.
“He was a teacher of mine at university. I even met his wife at a fund-raising function once. She must be heartbroken. Can I get a message to her?”
“I’m sorry, no. She’s also dead.”
“What?”
Finn’s voice was quiet, and Oz tightened her arm around her waist when she felt her sag against her. She knew Finn felt the news like a body blow and wished she could ease the pain she must be feeling. Fear crept up her spine as she considered how stupid it was to take on this mission. They were going up against a madman who thought nothing of killing innocent people. She didn’t want to think about what he would do to them if he caught them, but she couldn’t stop herself. The scenarios played over and over in her mind.
“As are their children. We believe Mehalik was attempting to persuade Jensen to create Balor and used the family as leverage. His refusal cost them all their lives.”
“One of the classes he taught was ethics. He was a good man.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So I’m his next target. Does he know where I am?”
“Not currently. He has his people watching your home in Florida and the shop. You left just in time to evade them.”
“How do you know so much about what he’s up to?” Junior asked.
Knight smiled. “We have an informant close to Mehalik. He approached MI6 a few weeks ago, and in exchange for his family’s safety, he’s giving us information.”
“How close is he to Mehalik, and how good has his information been so far? Do we have a picture of Mehalik yet? Lord knows that would be a damn useful bit of intel.”
“He was Mehalik’s bodyguard, but there’s been a shift in structure in the last couple of weeks, and now he’s one of Mehalik’s commanders. And no. We still don’t have a current picture of the man. He’s wary of technology. Paranoid, really.”
Billy scoffed. “Well, you tell him that’s the first piece of intel we want.”
“You said commanders, right? You make it sound like some sort of paramilitary organization.” Junior folded his arms.
“It is. Mehalik is a general in the Hamas organization.”
“Wait a minute. Pritchard said my dad had links to al-Qaeda. Now you’re telling me it’s Hamas. Make your minds up. What the hell are we involved with here?”
“Mehalik is a Palestinian Arab. He’s a General in Hamas. And he’s had arms dealings with al-Qaeda. It was a logical conclusion at that time to assume he was brokering a deal between Sterling and the al-Qaeda. He isn’t.”
“And this comes from your source?” Oz asked.
“Yes.”
“And how do you know you can trust this source?” Junior asked.
“It was corroborated independently by an intelligence officer we have undercover in an al-Qaeda stronghold.”
“Where?” Billy ran a hand over the scraggy stubble covering his jaw then up through his shaggy blond hair. Oz found the difference in her retired and now slightly scruffy looking dad so different from the regimented and impeccable dad she had grown up with during his military career. She’d asked him about it once, and his enigmatic smile and instructions to ask her mother about it were more than enough for her to leave it alone and enjoy the softer, more relaxed side to her father.
“I can’t give you that information.”
“Then how are we supposed to—”
“The information we’ve been given by our informant has been sound and verified every step of the way. He’s earned my trust.”
“Do we get to meet him?” Billy asked.
“Probably. If things progress as we plan, you’ll meet with Mehalik, and our informant will be at the meeting.” He reached into his pocket. “This flash drive has intel on Mehalik and the PLO so you can bring yourselves up to speed on the situation. There’s also the research we retrieved from Dr. Lyell’s servers about Balor.” He held it out for Finn to take. “Do you think you can re-create it?”
“Yes. That isn’t what I’m worried about.”
“What is?”
“Creating the vaccine.”
“There’s also research in the files about that.”
“I know. But from what I saw last time, the vaccine that Lyell created wasn’t stable, and transmission was limited to intravenous injection. To eradicate the threat of Balor, that just isn’t enough. You may as well call it Gamble for how effective it is.”
“We don’t plan on Balor getting out there, so a widespread vaccine won’t be necessary, Finn.”
“Mr. Knight, I never thought that the protocol I devised could be used in the way it has been, so please forgive me if I’m now more than a little cautious in just what it could do. I studied to help people, not kill them. I was trying to cure cancer, for Christ’s sake. Why can’t we pretend that I’ve created what he wants and use a placebo to get him to come to me? Then we know Balor can’t fall into his hands.”
“No,” Knight and Whittaker said at the same time.
“
Mehalik has a scientist with him who will verify all the samples you give him at the proper time.” Whittaker continued. “He made your father prove this thing every step of the way. He might not make you jump through some of the same hoops because he knows that you’re the one creating it, but he will verify that this is real before he does the deal.”
“Without the deal, we can’t prosecute him and make it stick,” Knight said.
“And with a placebo you won’t make it out of the meeting alive,” Whittaker added.
“Can you create something that will pass his tests but then die off, or something?” Oz asked.
Finn ran her fingers through her hair, her frown deepening. “I don’t see how. The beauty of this bacterium is that E. coli is so resistant and so easily communicable that it’s impossible to kill prior to replication. Once it replicates, it’s already spreading.”
“Finn, I can see how uncomfortable you are with this.” Knight looked her in the eye. “I promise you, this will not get out there.”
“You can’t make me that kind of guarantee, Mr. Knight.”
“Yes, I can.” He smiled charmingly. “I’m a well trained U.S. operative with the nation’s security at stake. There is nothing I won’t do to make sure this is contained.”
“Those are nice words, Mr. Knight, but I say again. You can’t make that kind of guarantee. No one can. You’re telling me that the only way to stop this man is to create a bacterium capable of destroying life as we know it on this planet.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
He nodded.
“Really? Because I don’t think you do. So before we go any further let’s make damn sure we all know exactly what we’re talking about, shall we?” She waited for him to respond, relieved to see that he was intensely focused on her. “This bacteria will spread across the globe within a month of being released anywhere, and right now there is nothing to stand in its way. There is no vaccine, no antidote, and no treatment. Once you contract it you’ve got about four days before you show symptoms. Muscle weakness, fatigue, paralysis, and severe, increasing pain. All of them progressively getting worse, until you drown in your own saliva because you can no longer make yourself swallow or your heart becomes paralyzed in your chest. Of the two options, I’d probably choose that death. At least it’s quicker. If you are one of the unlucky one percent who don’t die from this, each symptom you develop is yours for the rest of your life.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Whittaker said.
“Yes, it is, Agent Whittaker. It is every bit that bad. And you want me to make this, to capture a bad guy.”
“Are you sure we can’t fake it?” Junior asked.
“I’m sure I can’t create a fake good enough to pass a test and be harmless afterward.”
“It will be tested,” Knight said. “Have no doubt about it.”
“And he is coming for you,” Whittaker reminded her.
“I don’t really care about that, Agent Whittaker. I’d rather die than see this fall into his hands.”
“He’d take pleasure in arranging that.” Whittaker stood at the edge of the room glaring at her.
“What the hell kind of crap are you trying to pull?” Billy confronted him as the rest of the Zuckermans in the room bristled.
Finn shuddered. “It’s okay. I’m well aware of that, but that still wouldn’t end the threat would it? If you don’t get him, he will just move on to the next scientist, then the next until he finally finds someone to create Balor. He knows it can be done now. It’s only a matter of time. If I let him come for me and refuse him, knowing full well that he’ll kill me for it, then I can’t control anything that happens beyond that. If I create Balor, I control it.”
“And thereby we control him.” Knight nodded.
“Isn’t that what Frankenstein thought when he created his monster?” Billy asked.
“Frankenstein made the mistake of giving his monster a brain, Billy. Balor won’t be so well endowed.”
“It doesn’t need to be.”
“Do you have another option for me?” She’d wracked her brain, but she couldn’t think of any other way, though if any of the military minds around her could come up with any other option, she’d gladly take it.
“I say we just shoot the fucker.” Junior leaned against the wall.
“Not an option,” Whittaker said.
“Why not?”
“We don’t know where he is, for one thing—”
“Get your inside man to give you a location.”
“And he is a high-ranking Hamas terrorist. He has information that could be vital to bringing terrorists to justice, thwarting other terrorism plans, and maybe even bringing a lasting peace to the area.” Whittaker finished with his arms folded over his chest.
Junior shook his head. “That’s an awful lot of ifs, buts, and fucking maybes to be pinning on one psycho, buddy.”
“We have reliable information—”
“Yeah, yeah, we know. Save it for someone who doesn’t know how the game’s played.”
“Well, gentlemen, if there are no other options for me, I guess I’m left with nothing but bad choices,” She looked at Knight again. “If you want me to create this vile thing to flush him out, then so be it. But I won’t do it without creating a failsafe to make it harmless.”
Whittaker frowned. “Meaning?”
“I want to make the vaccine much more reliable.”
Knight smiled. “I wish there were more people like you out there. But then I’d be out of a job.” He chuckled. “I just hope we have the time.”
“I’m starting work in the morning. I’ll make time.”
“Which brings me to my next point. We need to make sure that you’re seen as taking over Sterling Enterprises. We need Mehalik to think he has a chance of doing business with you, or he’ll attempt to kidnap you and coerce you. And that makes our plan a lot harder to pull off.”
Finn clasped Oz’s hand and squeezed. “I know.”
Oz tried to focus on Finn’s thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of her hand. It was the only way she could ignore the rising fear inside her. She wanted to take Finn away from every kind of danger. She wanted to protect her. Just so that she could love her for the rest of their lives. Instead, they were heading into a situation more dangerous than Oz had ever faced, with an untrained civilian she loved with all her heart, and she wasn’t certain she could protect. It went against every instinct she had.
“So when’s the big unveiling?” Finn asked.
“I was thinking Friday night. There’s a fundraising gala at Rockefeller Center. Black tie. And the CEO of Sterling Enterprises has tickets.”
“What’s the charity?”
“The Children’s Cancer Charity. Huge event, and it fits perfectly with the research you were doing.”
Oz had to admit it was the perfect event for Finn to make her first appearance as the new CEO of Sterling Enterprises. The multi-billion dollar company incorporated everything from property development and BioTech laboratories, to software development, oil, gas, and alternative energy. The business was huge, and Finn was now at the head of it. It was true that auditors were still combing the books looking for the monies laundered from his illegal practices, and share prices had taken a massive hit since William Sterling had been imprisoned, but the company was big enough to weather the storm. If Finn wanted it, it was all hers. If she wanted it. Oz suspected that when this was all over, she would be more than happy to sell it all.
Finn looked at Oz. “Looks like we’re going to the ball, Cinders.”
“Cinders?”
“Cinderella. Don’t tell me you didn’t go to a pantomime as a kid?”
“Pantomime? I may have been forced to watch the Disney movie.” She pointed at Billy. “He let Mom try to turn me into a girl until I was at least six. What the hell’s a pantomime?”
Finn kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll tell you later.”
Oz shudde
red. What the hell is it about her and that accent that turns my knees to Jell-O?
Chapter Eight
Bailey tossed and turned. She’d thrown the covers off and woken up shivering, although her feet were the only thing not frozen, as Jazz was using them for a pillow. It’d been four days since Cassandra Finsbury had walked into her office, and she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. She was still waiting for Sean to get back to her, and the waiting was driving her crazy. She got up, pulled on a pair of sweats and sneakers, and clipped Jazz’s leash to her collar.
“Come on, girl. Let’s see if I can walk off some of this excess energy.” At five in the morning, the streets were deserted but for the newspaper van delivering to the kiosk at the corner and the bakery tantalizing her with delicious aromas. She stopped in for coffee and picked up a croissant. She loved the early morning, when the day was still so fresh with possibilities and unblemished with the events yet to unfold. She breathed in the air of a city just beginning to waken and let her feet lead the way. There was no direction in mind, no deadline to make, just the peace and solitude to enjoy.
“See, Jazz? This is the life.” She picked off a bit of her croissant and held it out for the dog. “Good girl.” She smiled, thinking how strange it was that Jazz had become such a big part of her life so quickly. She’d never thought about having a dog before, because she didn’t have the time, or the lifestyle, that would accommodate a pet. Besides, she’d had enough to worry about without adding the responsibility of another life to care for.
She crossed the Charles River as she wandered farther and farther from home while the sun chased the night from the sky. The blackness gave way to gentle pastel shades. Before she realized it, they were crossing in front of MIT, with its imposing column frontage and domed roof. She shook her head.
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