And Then You Die (20 page)

“He's not telling them how bad it is,” Yael murmured. “Bastard. He didn't even tell them there was no cure. He shouldn't be reassuring them. He should be scaring them into going to their homes and staying there. He's only worried about your damn stock market.”

The news switched to Collinsville and a long shot of burning buildings. “Riots?” Bess couldn't believe it. “As if the situation there isn't bad enough.”

The screen now showed victims being brought into local hospitals, showed quarantine wards, panicky faces.

“Seventy-six reported dead already,” Bess whispered. “How many more?”

“Let's hope most of the people stashed the money away for themselves and didn't get generous.”

“Oh, God, I hoped I could help. Why couldn't we have had a little more time? Maybe we could have saved some of those people.”

“You're doing what you can, Bess.”

“Tell that to those people in Collinsville.”

“Disasters happen.”

“This isn't a disaster, it's murder.”

Yael nodded. “So why are you blaming yourself? Esteban is the one who––”

“Get your car and wait outside the emergency entrance, Yael.” It was Kaldak, striding into the room. “Bess, I'm getting you out of here.”

She stared at him in shock. “I'm not going anywhere with you. Josie is––”

“You'll either go with me or you'll go with Ramsey. Either way you'll have to leave Josie. If you go with me, you'll be free and have leverage to deal for Josie's protection. If you let Ramsey swallow you up, you'll have no power at all. You'll be in some hospital or CDC unit and allowed out of sedation only long enough to give blood samples.”

“Ramsey hasn't done that yet.”

“He wasn't desperate. He is now. He'll present you as his hidden weapon, and naturally you have to be kept safe. It's a national emergency. Everyone knows individual rights have to be suspended during national emergencies.” He turned to Yael. “Hurry, we don't have much time.”

Bess shook her head. “I won't leave Josie.”

“He's making sense,” Yael told her. “Do what he says.” He walked out, leaving her alone with Kaldak.

“I'm not going.”

“Listen to me.” Kaldak's voice was tense, desperate. “For God's sake, listen. I know you hate my guts, and that's okay. But I'm telling the truth. Everything's changed. We've got a panic on our hands, and Ramsey's going to have all the authority he needs. The only way you'll have any power at all is to not let him get hold of you. Ramsey doesn't care about you or Josie, he cares about Ramsey. As long as you're free, you have bargaining power.” He gestured to the TV screen on which they were showing the riots. “Can't you see I'm not lying to you? I want you safe. I want Josie safe. Believe me.”

She did believe him. She'd had enough experience with Ramsey to know that Kaldak's assessment was frighteningly accurate.

Kaldak picked up her purse and handed it to her. “We'll go down the emergency stairs.”

She didn't move.

“Bess, I'm begging you,” Kaldak said unsteadily. “Don't let this happen to you and Josie.”

Josie.
Josie was helpless. Josie couldn't protect herself, and if Ramsey took Bess away, she would have no one.

“I'll go.” She strode out of the room.

Kaldak was instantly beside her. “Bess, I promise that––”

“Don't make me any promises. I don't want them from you.” She stopped abruptly. “Ramsey's agents. Those two coming toward us.”

“Ramsey must have told them to get you.” Kaldak's hand was under her elbow, pushing her. “Run!”

She ran. Toward the emergency exit and down the stairs.

Kaldak was right behind her. A door burst open above her. Ramsey's agents. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

Third floor.

Oh, God, the agents were gaining on them. The footsteps were closer.

Second floor.

Kaldak pulled ahead of her and jerked open the first-floor door. “To the left and through the lobby.”

Marble floors, columns, a gift shop.

“Stop them!”

A red emergency room sign over the double doors ahead.

A room full of people. More double doors.

Outside. The screech of tires as Yael pulled up beside them.

Kaldak jerked open the rear door and pushed her inside.

They were on him. Kaldak elbowed one in the stomach and hit another in the chin.

“Take off!” He dove inside the car.

The car jerked forward and Yael raced down the driveway with the rear door still swinging open.

They were on the street, speeding toward the corner. Green light. They could make it.

Bess glanced over her shoulder. The agents were still chasing after them, running down the street. . . .

The light turned red.

Yael ran it.

Brakes screeched.

The agents had stopped and were standing in the middle of the street, staring after them.

The relief that rushed through Bess dissipated immediately when Kaldak said, “They'll have the license plate number. We need to get out of this car.” He reached out and closed the rear door. “Get to the airport quick, Yael.”

“And what do we do when we get to the airport?” Yael asked.

“We'll decide that when we're airborne.”

“You have a plane?” Bess asked.

“Ramsey arranged one for me earlier. That's how I got to the hospital so quickly after you called, Yael.” He smiled grimly. “Don't you think it's fitting that we make our getaway in a plane Ramsey got for me?”

“I doubt if Ramsey will think so,” Yael said. “And I'm not at all sure my prime minister will approve either. There's such a thing as abuse of diplomatic immunity. Oh, well, such is life.”

“I want Josie protected every minute. I want those guards back on her floor,” Bess said. “What if Esteban finds out she's there?”

“I don't think it's an immediate problem. He's a little busy now.” Kaldak held up his hand. “I know. It's top priority. We'll take care of it.”

“How?”

“I don't know. Let me work on it. I'll see that she's safe. I promise.”

She'd told him she didn't want his promises. But he'd lived up to his promises before. Against all odds, he had found medical help for Josie and Josie had lived.

Kaldak was gazing at her, searching her expression. “Okay?”

She looked away from him. “Okay. I'll take help anywhere I can get it. Even from you.”

8:16
P.M.

The son of a bitch.

Cody Jeffers stared incredulously up at his face on the TV above the counter, his hands clenching into fists. The picture of him was the one from the group shot at the derby. It had been blown up and wasn't clear, but he was recognizable.

“Anything else?” the convenience store clerk asked.

“No.” Cody picked up the cigarettes he'd just bought, stuffed them in his shirt pocket, and hurried out of the store. He glanced back furtively over his shoulder to see if the clerk was looking at him. No, he saw with relief that the man was waiting on the next customer.

He jumped into his car and peeled off, out of the gas station. The fucking terrorist bastard had set him up. The police would never stop looking for him. Everyone in the country was going to be on the lookout. And he wouldn't have known about it if he hadn't run out of cigarettes.

Don't make any stops, Esteban had said.

Oh, no, don't stop anywhere. If he stopped, he'd hear how Esteban had set him up. Even the getaway car had no radio. He was like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

Slaughter.

His stomach twisted with panic. What was he going to do?

Mama. Mama was smart. She would find a place to hide him. She would think of a way to help him.

He had to get to Mama.

Eighteen

8:52
P.M.

A group of mechanics and pilots were glued to a television set in the office adjoining the hangar.

NBC this time, Bess noticed, but the pictures were almost identical to the ones aired by CNN.

“Walter, we have to get out of here,” Kaldak said to a medium-sized man in a red windbreaker. “Are we fueled?”

“Yeah.” The pilot didn't look away from the screen. “Fucking bastards. Did you hear? Six more cases and the CDC just announced that there wasn't enough antidote to go around. It's some sort of lab-made germ.”

“We have to leave, Walter,” Kaldak repeated.

He nodded jerkily. “They ought to bomb the bastards.”

“Have they announced who did it?”

“No, but it has to be Saddam Hussein or one of those other weirdos. They ought to bomb them. We should have gotten rid of all of them during the Gulf War.”

One sentence the pilot had uttered suddenly hit home to Bess. “You said there wasn't enough antidote to go around. Is there an antidote?”

“Some kind of an experimental one. The CDC pumped blood into a little girl they brought in a couple of hours ago.”

“And she's alive?”

“So far.” He turned away from the set. “You get on board, Mr. Kaldak. I'll go through the checklist. We'll be out of here in no time.” He walked out of the office into the hangar.

“An antidote,” Bess murmured.

“Not an antidote,” Kaldak said. “It sounds to me like they used the last blood sample you sent them and injected it into the girl.”

“How could they do that?”

“They culture-expand and activate the cells from a blood sample and then alter the cells with the immune genes. They've been experimenting with the same procedure with HIV patients. Donovan's team must have accelerated the procedure.”

“And it worked. The little girl is alive. It's a start.”

Kaldak shook his head. “It's a propaganda move. The government didn't want to admit that there wasn't any antidote so they concocted a miracle cure.”

“It is a miracle. She's alive.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “What are you thinking?”

She could feel Kaldak's gaze on her as they boarded the plane and settled into the passenger seats. But he said nothing to her until after they'd taken off. “Well?”

“Tell the pilot to turn west.”

“I was afraid of this,” Kaldak said. “Collinsville?”

“Collinsville!” Yael repeated.

Bess nodded. “That's where the CDC team is. That's where I have to be.”

“You do know there's a quarantine.”

“Oh, I think they'll let me in.”

“That's what I'm afraid of. You'll be walking right into Ramsey's hands.”

“My blood saved that little girl. There may be other people I can help.”

“Most of the damage has been done. The anthrax has been so widely publicized that no one in their right mind would open those sealed packets of money.”

“That little girl opened one.”

“Look, your blood type would have to be compatible. That narrows the chances right there. And how much blood do you think you can give?”

She shook her head.

“He's right, Bess,” Yael said.

“He's wrong,” Bess said. “Do you think I can hide out somewhere and watch what's happening there?” She turned to Kaldak. “I'm going. Now, you figure out how I can do it and still keep Josie safe and myself out of some isolation ward.”

“You don't ask much.”

“You owe me,” she said fiercely. “You owe me for Tenajo. Now, pay up, Kaldak.”

He stared at her for a long while and then stood up and headed for the cockpit. “I'll tell Walter we're going to Collinsville.”

Kaldak didn't return from the cockpit until it was almost time to land at the Collinsville airport. Bess had heard him talking nonstop on the radio, but she hadn't been able to understand what he was saying.

“What have you been doing?” she asked.

“Buckle up. We'll be on the ground in five minutes.” He sat down and buckled his own seat belt. “And be prepared for a welcoming committee.”

“Who?” Bess asked.

“I radioed the CDC, CBS, CNN, and the
St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
” He smiled grimly. “They should all be eagerly waiting when Mother Teresa reincarnated gets off the plane.”

Bess frowned. “Mother Teresa?”

“You,” Kaldak said. “You're about to become a national heroine. The courageous, caring woman willing to brave the dangers of the quarantine zone to give her life's blood and minister to the sick.”

“Very good,” Yael murmured.

“And your sacrifice is all that much greater because you left a sick child to come here, a child you saved from death.”

“My God, it sounds like a soap opera,” Bess said.

“But it's not a soap opera. It's the truth and can be verified by any enterprising reporter.”

“You told them about Esteban?”

He nodded. “I told them about Tenajo. I've shone as bright a spotlight as I could. The media particularly liked the idea of one of their own being the heroine of the piece.”

“I'm no heroine,” she said with distaste.

“You are now,” Kaldak said. “You'll visit that little girl who was given your blood. They'll film you giving the blood sample every day. They'll take shots of you and any new victims brought in. You'll go into the riot areas and show that it's possible to survive this mutated anthrax strain.” He paused. “And you'll give interviews about Josie and Emily and Tenajo.”

“No!”

“Yes. It's necessary. I want Dr. Kenwood to become the most famous surgeon in America because he operated on Josie. I want the head nurse interviewed. I want the hospital to have to put an army of guards around Josie just to keep away the media.”

Her eyes widened as she understood. “And keep away Esteban too.”

“I think we can rely on Ramsey for that. He won't dare have anything happen to America's little sweetheart.”

“And with every movement scrutinized, he won't be able to stuff Bess out of sight into a facility,” Yael said.

Kaldak nodded. “That's the plan.”

And it was a sound one, Bess thought. It could work.

“One more thing,” Kaldak said. “You're to tell the media the CDC is closer to a permanent cure than their official statement would lead anyone to believe.”

“Why?”

“I want Esteban to feel insecure. If he thinks a cure is imminent, he'll try to settle quickly and cut his losses.”

“Or distribute another truckload of money.”

“No, he won't try that again. Everyone's on guard. He's made his point and scared everyone to death.”

“You can't be sure of that.”

“I can't be sure of anything. I just have to cross my fingers and hope I guess right.” He added grimly, “One good thing. I doubt if Esteban is going to risk coming to Collinsville and try to cut your throat.” The plane bounced as the tires hit the runway. “That might be too bold a move even for him.”

“I wouldn't bet on that either,” Yael said. “He may be clever, but some of his tactics are bizarre.”

“Then we'll just have to keep her safe, won't we?” Kaldak unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. He glanced out the window. “There they are. Enough cameras to look like Hollywood on Oscar night.”

“I'm going to
hate
this,” Bess said.

“Now you'll see what it's like on the other side of the camera,” Kaldak said. “Come on. Let's get this show on the road.”

Collinsville
11:07
P.M.

The reporters flew toward Bess as she came down the airplane stairs.

Kaldak hung back, watching.

Bess might detest being in the spotlight, but she was smiling and answering questions with quiet confidence. He hadn't expected anything else. When it came to a pinch, Bess had shown she could handle almost anything.

“You son of a bitch.”

Kaldak turned at the low hiss behind him and saw Ramsey. “I didn't expect to see you here this soon, Ramsey.”

“I was already on my way when I got the call from the CDC that you'd pulled this stunt,” Ramsey muttered through gritted teeth. “I'm going to get you for this, Kaldak.”

“I told you I wouldn't let you do it to her.”

“I should have ignored you from the beginning. Before you let this mess happen.”

“Oh, Collinsville is all my fault? You weren't involved at all?” Finger-pointing was exactly the reaction he had expected from Ramsey. “It won't wash. I'm just a peon. You're the man in the driver's seat.” He looked at Bess. “And you'll feel like you've been run over by a truck if you let anything happen to her.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.” His gaze shifted back to Ramsey. “You think you're desperate? You don't know what the word means. I won't lose her and I won't lose Esteban.”

“You've already lost Esteban. We're not even close to catching him. He's cutting every tie that would lead anyone to him. Two hours after Habin's helicopter blew up, there was an explosion in a barn outside Waterloo, Iowa.”

Kaldak stiffened. “The counterfeit installation?”

“That's what we're betting. We have specialists out there combing through the ashes.”

“Isn't that dangerous for them?” Yael asked. “There's bound to be active anthrax spores in the ink they were using.”

“Not if the fire was intense enough,” Kaldak said. “Fire's the great leveler. The CDC uses fire to destroy even Ebola.”

“Oh, it was intense enough,” Ramsey said. “It melted practically everything in sight, including some men who were in the building. We're not going to find anything of value.”

“What about Cody Jeffers?”

“He called his mother about three hours ago and she hung up on him.”

Kaldak went still. “He called her?”

“He was begging and pleading with her. She hung up before we could get a trace. Since then there's been no sign of him. Esteban probably took care of that loose end too.”

“When's the deadline for the money?”

“Day after tomorrow.” He glanced sourly at Yael. “The president is taking heat from your government. They keep yammering at him not to give in to terrorists.”

“My government is right,” Yael said. “There's nothing worse than meeting terrorist demands.”

“Having Esteban release contaminated money in New York City is worse.”

“Is that what he's threatening?” Kaldak asked.

Ramsey nodded curtly. “Do you know what another incident would do to the stock exchange?”

“I know I wouldn't want to give Esteban the money and have him walk away with any anthrax still in his possession. What's to stop him from using the threat again?”

“Her.” Ramsey nodded at Bess. “And you took her away from me, you bastard.”

“Too bad. I guess you'll just have to concentrate on finding Esteban instead of harassing an innocent woman.”

“Is that the pot calling the kettle black?”

Kaldak flinched. “Yes, I guess it is.” He stepped forward and elbowed his way through the mob of reporters. “That's enough for right now. Ms. Grady's very tired, but she'll be glad to talk to you all tomorrow morning. She still has to go to CDC headquarters in town and give blood.”

One of the cameras was immediately trained on him. “And who are you?”

“I'm Ms. Grady's personal escort. The government recognizes the extreme importance of her contribution.” He turned to Ramsey. “So Deputy Director Ramsey assigned me the job of making sure that her path is as smooth as possible. Isn't that right?”

Ramsey gave him a lethal glance before he forced a smile. “Of course. It's only sensible that we take excellent care of Ms. Grady.”

“He was just telling me he's already sent a force to Johns Hopkins to secure the hospital,” Kaldak said blandly. “I'll let him fill you in on the reasons that's necessary while I take Ms. Grady to the CDC headquarters.”

The majority of the media people immediately surrounded Ramsey, and Kaldak had to extricate Bess from only two of the more persistent reporters.

“This way.” Yael was at their side. “This is Mel Donovan with the CDC.”

“We've met.” Kaldak shook his hand. “This is Bess Grady. Mel Donovan. He took over Ed's position at the CDC.”

“I'm glad to meet you, Ms. Grady.” Donovan shook her hand. “Though I wish it weren't in these circumstances. Our team's staying at the Ramada Inn in the quarantine zone. It's right next door to the hospital. I made reservations for your party.”

“Have any more cases been brought in?” Bess asked.

“One. He died an hour ago.” Donovan ushered them toward a car parked beside the terminal building. A Collinsville police car with blinking red lights was parked just in front of it. “You heard we used the last sample for a transfer?”

“That's why I'm here.” She got into the backseat. “But evidently not soon enough. I hoped––” She shook her head. “It doesn't matter what I hoped. I'm here now. I'll do whatever I can. How close are you to an antidote?”

Donovan shrugged. “We're trying to re-create Ed's records that were destroyed in the explosion, but it takes time.” He got into the driver's seat. “Believe me, we've been working around the clock ever since the mutated anthrax came to our attention. This disaster just put more pressure on us. Everyone wants an answer, and we can't give them one.”

“Let's get going.” Yael climbed into the passenger seat beside Donovan. “Those reporters will be on her again any second.” Kaldak climbed into the rear seat and slammed the door. “Yael and I will need cars with CDC stickers so we can move around the quarantine area.”

“The mayor's given us the use of his staff cars,” Donovan said. “We'll get you the stickers when we get to the hotel.”

He waved at the police car and the policeman started his engine. “But don't go anywhere without a police escort. The town is too volatile.”

The bitch was smiling and telling them lies.

Esteban sat in his motel room, watching the news reports of Collinsville. He'd been drinking in the devastation that was going to prove so profitable, when they'd cut to the airport and Bess Grady.

She was
lying
to them. The CDC wasn't close to a cure. He had made sure of that with Katz's death.

But what if people believed her? What if pressure was put on the president to refuse to pay? Those damn Jews were always getting in the way.