by Gini Koch
“Oh, well done, and now you’ve come to kill me?” Cliff asked snidely.
She shook her head. “No. And I didn’t come to rescue you, either.” She turned to TCC. “I came because my father was looking for me.”
Stephanie took a step toward us and, as she did, Cliff looked up on the roof and did the throat-slash hand signal that, in this case, clearly meant Kill Them Now.
Most of us saw it, because he wasn’t even trying to hide that he’d done it. So results were, as was so often the case, immediate.
TCC leaped to tackle Stephanie and shield her with his body. Reader and Chuckie grabbed Jeff and pulled him down and did the same thing, while Tim and Christopher had Gower down and were covering him.
Those who had witnesses with them did the same thing—got those witnesses down and shielded them with their own bodies.
White was the one who got me down, which was ironic because I was thinking I needed to cover him. Which Brian did, which was nice in that sense. However, ducked and covered or not, I still had a view of the roof and the area around us.
Heard a lot of screaming, because when someone makes the “kill them” signal and prominent people are being shielded by the people around them, the natural tendency is to scream. But what I didn’t hear were gunshots and what I didn’t see were people dropping or bullets hitting.
American Hi-Fi’s “The Everlasting Fall” came on. That didn’t sound like a hint to duck and cover. “We need to stand up, guys. Now.”
“If you insist, Missus Martini.”
“I do.”
“Kitty, you’re making yourself a target,” Brian said, but he stood up and helped White up, who in turned helped me stand. White held onto my hand and Brian’s, clearly ready to use hyperspeed to get us out of range.
“No worries, Bri, you can complain to Jeff, Chuckie, James, and all the others. Later. Right now, I think something’s going wrong with our Mastermind’s Masterplan.”
Cliff made the signal again and looked rather annoyed and beyond impatient. But his expression changed as something came hurtling down from the roof. Two somethings.
The bodies of Luis Sanchez and Julio Lopez landed at Cliff’s feet. The very dead bodies. Nice to know exactly where Buchanan, and possibly Siler, had gone.
“Those are two highly wanted Cuban assassins who work for the Cuban Mob,” I said, doing my best to project my voice, as I let go of White’s hand and moved closer to Cliff. But not too close. “As I said earlier, you have deep ties to the Cuban Mob, meaning you were also planning to assassinate the current President of the United States, seeing as he hadn’t dropped dead from your supervirus like President Armstrong did.”
Cliff gaped at me.
Chuckie stood up. “Oh, and one other thing, buddy.”
Cliff turned to him and for the first time the hatred showed on his face. It warped him from a normal, nice-looking guy into what I assumed his soul was—pure ugliness. “What’s that?” Cliff snarled.
Chuckie smiled very slowly. “Checkmate. You lose. Again.”
CHAPTER 90
CLIFF REACHED INTO his pocket as my music changed to “Pennies on the Floor” by The Little Willies. Had no freaking idea what Algar meant by this, but fortunately my memory nudged. I’d picked up a penny off of the floor of the Armstrong’s closet.
Dug into my pocket. It was still there. Pulled it out as Cliff pulled out what he was scrambling for as well.
He was holding a cube that glittered as if it was a white and golden Rubik’s cube. In other words, Cliff had the last Z’porrah power cube. How he’d had something that bulky in his pocket without it showing was beyond me, but I knew what the power cubes looked like, and he was definitely holding one. Meaning he was going to use it to get away.
Had no idea what a penny was going to do in this situation, and less than no idea of what to do with said penny, but my motto was, when in doubt, go with your gut and the crazy. Threw the penny at Cliff.
As it sailed through the air, the penny changed shape and became a cage made of thin copper wire. It opened like a mouth and snapped over the cube. Cliff just managed to get his fingers out.
The copper cage with its sparkly prize fell to the ground. No one needed to tell me that we wanted that picked up. Cliff and I both lunged for it. But it was gone.
Christopher was back by Jeff and the others, only he had the cage in his hand. He grinned at me and I laughed.
But I was now close to Cliff and he took the opportunity to do the only thing he hadn’t tried yet—grabbing a hostage. Namely, me.
If I hadn’t been infected I’d have been able to get away from him. But infected I was, and the “high” of my latest adrenaline rush was starting to crash. Meaning I had very little in the tank.
Cliff produced a gun and put it at my temple. “I will happily kill her,” he said to Chuckie, not Jeff. “So you’re going to let me go, or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you.”
People around us all raised their hands, but Reader, Tim, Christopher, and Raj literally dragged Jeff, Gower, and Chuckie back.
Knew without asking that Buchanan and Siler, if he was up there, wouldn’t have a safe enough shot to take it. Meaning I was on my own right now, because, as First Lady, no one was going to risk shooting near me.
The crowd was parting again, as Cliff headed us for Stephanie’s motorcycle. “We’re going to take a ride now.”
Couldn’t speak for anyone else in the crowd but I wasn’t scared. I was pissed. Didn’t have the She-Hulk Rage thing going for me, but Wolverine could work up a good Berserker Rage when he needed to, and I focused on that. Well, that and my other motto—keep ’em monologuing.
“Wow, Cliff, you’re really going for the whole Cackling Mastermind Is Revealed On International Television thing, aren’t you?”
“Well, when someone takes your anonymity away, you have to improvise. Take off the earphones and dump your phone.”
“Yeah, you’re the master of that, aren’t you? Mister Mastermind.” Did as he told me, though I managed to put my earbuds into my purse. My phone I tossed toward Jeff. Well, I tossed the phone that I’d been listening to music on over. The other phone, the one that the Secret Service, and therefore Cliff, didn’t know about? That one was still in my purse.
“How long have you known?” he asked as we got awkwardly onto the Harley. It’s really hard to get two people on a Harley at the same time, especially when one is wrapped around the other and a gun to the head is involved. But we managed. No one laughed, though I had to figure some people watching probably wanted to. We had to look ridiculous.
“For a lot longer than you’ve known that we knew. You’re lucky I know how to ride one of these.”
“You’re not going to stay lucky.”
“Oh, see now, Cliff, if you just plan to kill me anyway, I’m going to give the kill order and go out in a heroic blaze of glory. Don’t be stupid. You know you’re going to let me live.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you like the game.”
He chuckled as I started the bike and he wrapped one arm tightly around my waist, keeping the gun at my head. “That’s true. It’s been a good game.”
Had to pay attention to get the bike turned around and out of the crowd. Did my best to send Jeff an emotional signal that told him not to worry and not to come after me himself. Had no idea if I was doing that well or not.
“So, how did you infect everyone?”
“Gaseous release mostly. And the ‘vaccine,’ as you guessed.”
“Yeah, that seems obvious. But you were pawing all of us a lot.”
He laughed. “You caught that? I’m impressed. Yes, I have a stronger form of the virus in my pocket. Skin-to-skin contact ensures complete infection for those who weren’t dying quickly enough. And it’s helpful to spread the disease to those who we
ren’t exposed to the gas or those who were in the contagious stage.”
“Wasn’t that a risk for you? I mean touching the disease over and over again.”
“No. The cure is very final. Either you die or you get the vaccine and the vaccine is, if I do say so myself, a brilliant bit of medical engineering. Once vaccinated you can never get the Alien Flu again.”
Well, anything that could be engineered could be reverse engineered, so I didn’t lose hope. Actively chose not to mention that the brilliance of this disease and, most likely, its cure had far less to do with Cliff and far more to do with Lizzie’s dead father. Also actively didn’t point out that there was no such thing as a vaccine that worked a hundred percent of the time and forever. The best vaccines came close, but nothing was a foolproof cure. However, I wasn’t in any position to get cocky, so I kept all of this to myself.
Headed off slowly, mostly because I didn’t want him to get any ideas and shoot into the crowd. No musical clues from Algar now. Just me and the Mastermind, riding off into the sunset. Well, sunrise, really. Refused to consider how long it had been since I’d slept, in part because a gun to your head makes you very wide awake. Couldn’t hear Poison’s “Ride the Wind” for real, but I was listening to it in my mind. On repeat. ‘Cause that was how I rolled.
“Take the Three-Fifty-Five to the Beltway, then get on the Ninety-Five,” he said. “And speed it up.”
“You got it. Can I put sunglasses on, or do you want me blinded so we get to be organ donors?”
“Fine, get your sunglasses out. Try anything, though, and I’ll pull the trigger.”
“Blah, blah, blah. It’s going to take me longer than normal since I have to use my left hand.” Or I’d have to let go of the throttle and that wasn’t in anyone’s best interests, especially mine.
Moved my purse onto the tank in front of me. Pretended I was having trouble and dug through for my Glock as well as my sunglasses. Felt the used hypodermics Tim had dumped in there and carefully moved them to the top of my purse, just in case.
Because of how he was holding me, Cliff couldn’t really look down into my purse, because it would mean he’d have to lean over and move the gun from my head. Nestled the Glock next to the needles, then put my sunglasses on.
“Done, and thanks. We’ll be a lot safer this way.”
“Oh, good. I’m so glad we’re being road safe and law abiding.”
Chose not to reply. Revved the bike and headed us out as directed.
Couldn’t really talk now, and couldn’t go as fast as I wanted until we were on the 355. But once we were, I focused on speed, though I was going to have to wait for the Beltway to make my move.
Sure, Christopher could catch us, but the problem was that Cliff wanted to kill me, so if any of the others gave him the slightest provocation, he’d pull the trigger. No, I needed to get him away from everyone, let him think he was safe, and then make my move.
Zipped up the 355 and got onto the Beltway in short order. Presumed he’d want to go south on the 95, because I knew without asking that he wanted to get to Cuba. So I went east on the Beltway.
“You’re going the wrong way,” he shouted.
“You said you wanted the Ninety-Five!”
“I do, going south, you idiot.” Always nice to be right.
“Sharing directions is helpful, you know. It’s the Beltway, we’ll go in a circle.” And then I really cranked the throttle.
We were moving fast in short order. If my days weren’t completely jumbled up, it was a workday. There were certainly enough cars on the road at this time of day to indicate that, killer epidemic or not, most people were headed in to their jobs.
I weaved us in and out of cars as I went faster and faster. We went past the exit for Andrews Air Force Base. Wasn’t ready to go for it.
“Slow down!” Cliff shouted.
I went faster. We flew past the 95 interchange. “Whoops! We’ll have to catch it next go ’round.”
“Slow down or I’ll shoot you,” he snarled in my ear.
“Go ahead. At this speed, if you shoot me, this bike goes down and you’ll die for sure. We’re not in gear, so it’s not going to be pretty for either one of us. But me, I think I’ve got a good shot. I’m an athlete, I’m the one driving, and I’ll have all the medical attention from the top doctors in the world. You, on the other hand, are not an athlete, are not the one driving, and are going to get dead before you ever reach a hospital.” And then we could get his blood, too. Crashing was definitely one of my Win-Win Options. Oh sure, not Option #1 but definitely up there in the Options List.
My hair was flying around, but mostly in his face. Hoped it was hurting and blinding him both. Was pretty sure I had the Harley at top speed, but wasn’t willing to take my eyes off the road to find out. Though the road was a lot less crowded.
Risked a look in the rearview mirror. Not a lot of cars behind us, either. Assumed that law enforcement was getting people off this road so that I could pretend I was starring in Speed with a bit more safety.
We went on, him snarling at me to slow down and me ignoring him completely. “Oh, by the way? Annette Dier’s dead, so if you’re expecting to meet up with her or that she’s going to save your bacon, you’re in for some real disappointment.”
“Whatever. She was going to be dead soon anyway.”
“Yeah, you didn’t give her the real vaccine, did you?”
He laughed again. “No, I didn’t.”
Saw a helicopter. Several. They were hovering over parts of the Beltway. Probably news helicopters watching the First Lady ride a Harley with the Domestic Terrorist Supreme. Hoped Dad still had the TVs turned off at the Embassy.
“Annette loved you, though.”
“So did Stephanie. And so what? Chuck loves you—but that didn’t change anything for you, did it?”
Had to make a move before the Harley ran out of gas. Had no idea how much gas was in the bike before we’d gotten on it, but even with a full tank, I couldn’t go like this forever. And the likelihood that I was working with a full tank was slim.
“Not in this world, no.”
“Right. Because it takes the right person.”
“True enough. And at the right time.”
“Exactly. You know, Kitty, you and I could make a really good team.”
Managed not to let the Inner Hyena out again. Also managed not to say the first several replies that came to mind. “Oh yeah?” was the only safe reply I could give, so I gave it.
“Yeah. Come down to Cuba with me. You know you deserve a man who can keep up with you intellectually.”
“Wow, I’m used to my enemies telling me I’m an idiot.”
“Just because other men haven’t respected you doesn’t mean I’m like that.”
Cliff had apparently had some real good luck with lines like this. Possibly they worked on LaRue. Certainly they’d worked on Stephanie, and probably Dier, too. That he thought he had more to offer than my husband and presumed other options was amazingly conceited. But then again, that was his fatal flaw—he was awfully pleased with himself.
“So, what could you offer me that my current husband can’t?” One of the helicopters was flying toward us and getting lower at the same time. It looked much beefier than the other choppers that were higher up and clearly news choppers. Military. And black. Could be coming for me, could be coming for Cliff, could just be trying to get a really good shot for the morning news shows. Had no bet either way.
“Wealth, power, all the things women like.”
“I’ll bet you want me to bring my kids, too, don’t you?”
“Well, of course. I’d never want to separate you from your children, Kitty. What kind of man would I be to do that?”
Managed to refrain from comment, but it took real effort.
There was another helicopter, also flyi
ng low, also military grade, but this one was grayish. Was pretty sure it was coming from Andrews. But it was well behind the closer one. Which had a rope ladder hanging down.
Tried to figure out how long it would take to fly a helicopter from Orlando to D.C. Had no clue, but it was doubtful that the remaining Crazy Eights were in that chopper.
On the other hand, who said clones couldn’t learn to fly?
CHAPTER 91
MY SUSPICIONS WERE confirmed as I saw someone leaning out of the chopper, one arm hooked through the strap that would keep him in, holding what looked like a very impressive gun.
“I see your other ride’s here.”
“Right on time.”
“You had this escape planned?” I found that doubtful.
“No, but I always have contingency plans in place.”
“True. You are the current Mastermind, after all.”
“The only Mastermind, now.”
“You’re not going to let Reid take over when you’re an old man?”
“No.”
“Does he know that?”
“If I said no, would you tell him?”
“No, because of the two of you, despite everything you’ve done, I still like you better.” This was perhaps my finest Damning With Faint Praise statement ever.
Cliff laughed. “I’m flattered. You can come with us, still, you know.”
“Would you give me the cure? The real one, not the one you gave Annette?”
“Of course. And your children, too. Why would I bring you along if I didn’t intend to save you?”
Wanted to say that he’d do that to get my children, possibly give them the real vaccine, definitely give me the fake vaccine, and then watch me die while he and the others laughed. Knew better than to say this out loud, however.
