Firestorm (7 page)

“Firestorm?”

“Trask was trying to develop a radio-transmitted method of spontaneous combustion. The method also transformed the molecules, which produced intense heat. He claimed he would be able to target small isolated areas or, with a larger transmitter, an entire city.” He added grimly, “Talk about scorched earth.”

“He did it, didn't he?” She was remembering the strange way the fire in Jason's house had spread. “He'd completed the project before they stopped it.”

He nodded. “He'd done it. He was working on it on his own as well as at the lab. He gave the other scientists just bits and pieces so that he was in sole control. That was why he was considered a security risk. He didn't want his work buried in a locked file cabinet somewhere. He wanted it used and credit given where it was due. After he skipped out, the lab was blown up along with all the data collected from the other team members. The orders from the White House were that the project never see the light of day.”

“It was that dangerous?”

“About as dangerous as a mutated form of smallpox set loose in a city. Only quicker. It could destroy a city the size of Atlanta in two hours. The burn would be so intense that it would be impossible to put it out.”

“Jesus.”

He nodded. “Andreas didn't want to set that kind of firepower loose in the world. It has enough weapons of mass destruction already.”

“He should have thought of that before he allowed it to be funded.”

“He can't monitor every project. It was the pet project of a group of senators who thought more is always better. They buried the funding in other bills. When Andreas learned about the project, he closed it down. But Trask already had his disks and was out of there. He was enraged, a little crazy, and bent on revenge.”

“He's been trying to sell information to a foreign country?”

“There have been leaks from sources overseas to that effect. We have info that he's been dealing with Ki Yong, one of the North Korean government's power figures. But he's not focusing his main attention in that direction at the moment.” He paused. “So far he's been targeting fellow coworkers in the project and people in government he feels have victimized him.”

“What?”

“Six project scientists have been murdered in the past year. All burned to death.”

“Why would he do that?”

“The supposition is that he thought they might be capable of duplicating Firestorm and he wanted it for himself.”

“And the government targets?”

“Revenge. Three senators and one member of the House of Representatives brought Firestorm to the attention of Andreas and convinced him it should be scrapped.” His lips tightened grimly. “So far two senators and one representative have been murdered.”

“Burned to death?”

He nodded. “And he's not been careful about isolating them when he does it. Cameron Devers was with his wife when his car went up in flames. Representative Edwards was on his way to a ball game with his little boy. Both were killed.”

“It doesn't surprise me. He didn't care about Jason or Laura.” She shivered. “He didn't care about that little baby.”

“That's right. It's just as well you get the picture straight. I told you he was a monster.”

She nodded. “You have no idea. Ugly . . . So ugly . . .” With an effort she pulled herself away from that memory. “But I don't understand how he could remain free to do that kind of damage with everyone looking for him. He'd have to have a way of stalking or setting up those kills.”

He nodded. “I agree. Unless he had help.”

“What kind of help?”

“That's one of the things we have to find out. It could be a weak link.”

“Why me? He wasn't even sure that I was going to help you. And, even if he thought I was, did he know why you wanted me in particular?”

He shook his head. “The number-one reason is that I wanted to hire you. The second reason is that he must have found out who you are and your success at your profession. That would be a threat enough for him. You put out the fires, and that makes you the enemy.”

“Yes, that would make sense. The fire is his child. . . .”

“He really thinks that way?”

She nodded. “I can see now why he might. How long has he been working with spontaneous combustion?”

“Fifteen years.”

She shook her head. “It goes back further than that. Maybe . . . twenty-five years?”

“He's only around forty.”

“It's been a long time.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “So where do we go from here?”

“Washington. He hasn't finished his death list there. Our chance of snagging him is much better.”

“I may not be able to help you, you know. I've never known how this thing works. I can't control or instigate anything.”

“You already know more than I do about him. With experience you may learn how to search him out.” He paused. “Or maybe I can help you.”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say. I just want you to try.”

“And I don't want Jason or Laura endangered. They've been through enough.”

“I'll keep them safe.”

“I'm supposed to trust you? You have a lousy track record.”

“Okay. I'm not perfect. But I've already called Washington, and they'll have round-the-clock guards. I promise they won't be at risk. I don't want them hurt any more than you do.”

She couldn't doubt his sincerity. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “I'm damn sorry that Trask was responsible for that baby's death. I had no idea he'd followed me to Atlanta.”

“You should have known. He regards you as a threat. He has to destroy threats that might interfere with Firestorm.” She turned away. “Now I'm calling the hospital and checking on Laura. You make reservations to Washington out of Atlanta for this evening.”

“We could arrange a private plane from here.”

She shook her head. “I have a couple things I have to do in Atlanta. And I want to pick up Sam. It's just as well if Trask thinks that I'm only an arson investigator with a very smart dog. I may seem less of a threat.”

“Good thinking.”

“Does he know about . . . what you are?”

“I doubt it. Besides, I told you that I can't get inside his head.”

“Then why does he consider you such a threat?”

“Cameron Devers was my brother.” His smile was bitter. “And Trask definitely respects the power of revenge.”

S
he took a deep breath as the door closed behind Silver. What insanity was she getting herself into? But it wasn't insanity. The insanity would have been to let Trask be free to wander the world and inflict that hurt and ugliness on anyone else.

So stop questioning the decision she had already made. The only thing to do was to protect herself as much as possible by finding out as much information as she could. She picked up the phone and dialed Michael Travis.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am about what happened to your brother and his wife,” Travis said when he picked up the call. “It was a terrible thing.”

“Yes, it was. I suppose Silver called you and told you what happened. Or maybe I shouldn't suppose any such thing. Maybe you had one of your psychic friends in that weird group of yours focusing on me.”

“Silver called. He wanted me to be sure and have me contact the authorities and arrange protection for your family. And there's nothing really weird about our group. We're just people trying to survive. No one wanted this talent thrust on them. It just happened. And no one has any desire to exploit it. It's more of a curse than an asset, as you very well know. Some of our people ended up in sanitariums like you. Some committed suicide. And some hid their talent but secretly thought they were insane.”

“Until Michael Travis came riding to the rescue.”

“I tried to help,” Michael said quietly. “I've been there.”

She was silent a moment. “You did help me. And I never thanked you for it. I was just so angry and defensive about being shoved back into a sanitarium after spending all those years in a coma that all I wanted was a normal life. I didn't want to think, talk, or hear about anyone who was . . . like me.”

“But I think you're ready to hear about us now.” He chuckled. “And I consider it a breakthrough that you're admitting that you're not alone in this.”

“Then enjoy it. But I'll never join your little coven. I handle my problems myself.”

“So do we. And there isn't any real organization to our group. The cohesiveness is that we know we can reach out and talk to someone who understands. That's a blessing when half the time we're not sure we understand ourselves. We believe in independence and privacy too, and no one would think of violating that premise.” He paused. “Except when one of our members goes around the bend and threatens the rest of us.”

“Goes around the bend?”

“Some of us are more stable than others, as is true in any group. The balance is always more fragile when subjected to the strain we're under. And it's always possible that, if anyone started to spiral downward, they'd break confidence and subject us all to pain and humiliation.” He added ruefully, “The last thing we want is to have
Newsweek
trying to do an exposé on us.”

“And what do you do with these exceptions?”

He laughed. “Nothing lethal. God, you sound suspicious. We try to help them. We have one or two of the group make an attempt to help them come to an adjustment.” He added, “Most of the time we succeed.”

“And when you don't?”

“We ask Silver to come down from Washington and give it a try. If he's not busy on a project, he'll usually agree to help.”

“If? I'd think he'd drop everything. Isn't he one of your buddies?”

“No. We respect each other, but you can't call us friends.”

“But he belongs to your group.”

“No, he's like you. He doesn't want his independence compromised. I didn't find him, he found me. But unlike you, he wanted to explore his full potential. When I first encountered him, he was working in a think tank at Georgetown University, a top-secret privately funded project that was testing psychic abilities. He'd run across one of my less stable people who was turning psychotic. He called me and asked me if I wanted him to straighten him out. I was cautious, but I finally said yes.”

“And did he do it?”

“Yes. Jim's not entirely normal—who is?—but he's not going to end up in the loony bin. I'll take you to meet him, if you like.”

“Because Silver brainwashed him?”

“No, because Silver flushed out some of the poison and let him see clearer. He was careful not to hurt Jim in any way. That's why I feel okay calling him in occasionally.”

“I'd hate it.”

“Unless you were going bonkers. Jim has no resentment.”

“Maybe he would if Silver hadn't told him not to resent him. How do you know he didn't?”

“I don't. I don't know that much about Silver's talent. But I do know he's been a godsend. That's why I gave him your name when he came looking for someone who might help.”

“A return of favor. My head on a silver platter?”

“It seems intact at the moment.”

“But Laura's child is dead.”

“Yes, but it was Trask, not Silver, who was responsible. And I thought long and hard about giving your name to Silver. But I'm sure he told you about the urgency of catching Trask before he sells information to another power.”

“Yes. He also told me his brother was murdered by Trask.”

“Half brother. But I believe they were very close. He's been a driven man since Devers's death.”

She remembered the cold ferocity of Silver's expression. “I can believe that.” She paused. “He made me a promise not to . . . interfere with me. Can I trust him?”

He hesitated. “I think so. He's a wild card, but he's always been straight in our dealings.”

“That's not very comforting.”

“It's the best I can do.” He paused. “Besides, you're an independent lady. You always like to make your own judgments.”

“Can I stop him if he doesn't keep his word?”

“Maybe. If you concentrate. If you try to sense any intrusion and repel him. You're very strong. It's possible.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said sarcastically.

“It's all I can give you. As I said, I'm not that familiar with his talent. He doesn't talk about it. He just goes to work and does it. But it would be more comfortable if you'd try to trust him.”

“Like trusting there are no land mines in Afghanistan?”

He chuckled. “You're probably a little safer than that. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Would it do any good?”

“Probably not.”

“Then just be on call in case I find I can't stand Silver and need you to send someone else like him to help me.”

“There is no one like him. I've never run across another controller. He's unique.”

“In more ways than one. Good-bye, Michael. I wish to hell you'd never given my name to Silver.”

“Do you? But then you'd never have known about Trask. All your life you've been hating and fighting those sickos who start the fires and now you've met the king of them all. Isn't there just a little adrenaline rush at the thought of bringing him down?”

Adrenaline? She remembered the feeling of filth and horror she'd experienced when she was hurled into Trask's world. They were emotions she'd never felt before. No, she wasn't eager to go through that again, even though she knew she had to do it.

It wasn't the rush of adrenaline she was feeling.

It was fear.

5
                                                                                                                                                

T
rask was driving through Atlanta when his phone rang.

“I haven't heard from you in over a week,” Ki Yong said when Trask answered. “I believe you're abusing my patience.”

“I've been busy.”

“So Dickens tells me. He's getting very nervous.”

“That's his problem. You promised me a professional and I expect professional behavior.”

“He came highly recommended.” Ki Yong paused. “I understand you have certain priorities in the United States, and you can't say I'm not cooperating. But I have pressures from my superiors. They want delivery of Firestorm—soon.”

“They'll get it.”

“Not if you're dead or captured. You're playing a dangerous game. It's not as if I haven't offered to totally take over your agenda there. I'd put all my efforts into winding up those loose ends for you. I want you out of the U.S. and safe.”

Safe? Ki Yong wouldn't give a damn about Trask's safety once he got his hands on Firestorm. That's why he'd had to be so careful. “Dickens is enough help. I don't want anyone interfering.” And cheating him and the child out of the pleasure they deserved. “It won't be too long now.”

“There comes a point when patience gives way and the price becomes too high.”

“Not for Firestorm. I showed you what it could do on that island in the Pacific. As I remember, you were very impressed. You told me it would take years for that island to be anything but a burned-out shell.” He decided to take the offensive. “So don't try to bluff me. You want it and you want it bad. I'll call you when I'm ready to leave.”

The silence vibrated with Ki Yong's displeasure. “Soon. Make it soon.” He hung up.

Arrogant bastard. Trask pressed the disconnect button and thrust the phone in his jacket. Ki Yong had been polite and saccharine-sweet when he'd thought he'd be able to manipulate Trask. Well, that hadn't lasted long and he didn't like the idea of Trask running the show. Too bad. Trask was in control, and they could all jump when he snapped his fingers. He had the power.

He had the child.

But the child had not performed well last night, he thought, troubled. He'd thought he had the small dish perfected, but it had behaved erratically at the Murphy house. Obviously there were some serious alterations to be done on it before he entered into negotiations with Ki Yong.

And Kerry Murphy had survived Firestorm. The knowledge was a bitter pill on his tongue. Before, she had been a mere inconvenience, a possible threat, but now she was a symbol of his failure, the child's failure. He could feel his rage begin to sear like acid.

Keep calm. Control the fury as he controlled Firestorm. He hadn't been able to rectify his mistake at the hospital in Macon. It would have been too dangerous with Silver standing guard every minute. But he would make sure there would be other opportunities.

Until then, he would think about Kerry Murphy and anticipate the marvelous destruction the child would visit on her.

T
hanks for leaving Sam.” Edna gave Kerry a hug. “He was a great comfort to the kids.”

“I'm sure he loved it. You probably spoiled him rotten.”

“We tried.” Edna hesitated. “And thanks for everything else, Kerry. I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Are you doing okay now? Anything else I can do to help?”

She shook her head. “Donna's here, and the kids love her. We'll be fine.” She tried to smile. “Well, maybe not fine, but we'll survive. That's what we have to do, isn't it?”

Kerry nodded. “You're pretty wonderful. Charlie would be proud of you.” She hesitated. Oh, what the hell. “Come on out on the porch.”

“What?”

“Just come.” Kerry opened the door and went out ahead of her. “I know it's the wrong time, but maybe it isn't. Not for the kids.” She pointed to the large mutt tied to the porch post. “This is Sandy. I called him that because he looks like that dog in
Annie
. I got him at the pound.”

“A dog?”

“Underneath all that dirt, he's definitely a dog. He's also definitely friendly, and house-trained—maybe. Think of it this way. It will be a challenge for the kids to—”

“I don't know . . .” Edna frowned. “I'm not sure—”

“If you don't like him in a few days, call me and I'll find another home for him.” She gave Edna a quick kiss on the cheek and led Sam down the steps.

“Everything okay?” Silver asked from the driver's seat of the SUV. “She doesn't look too thrilled.”

“He's a sweet dog. Edna's a born mother, and he'll give her something to think about. And I hated taking Sam away from the kids.”

“She's petting him,” Silver observed. “Cautiously. It may be okay.”

“I hope so.” She was wiping her eyes as she opened the back passenger door and gestured to Sam to get into the car. “You know, life sucks. Charlie's dead and his family is hurting. They'll always hurt.”

“But it will get better.”

“I guess so.” She got into the passenger seat and closed the door. “I'm trying to think so.” Sam had lunged up on the top of the seat and was trying to lick her cheek. “Sit down, silly.” But she gave him a hug before turning to Silver. “We can go now.”

“No more errands? What did you do when you had me stop at your office?”

“I had to ask a favor of one of the fire inspectors. One of the kids at the hospital is going to be released this week to his grandmother, and the nurse at the hospital wasn't sure he hadn't been abused. I needed to buy some time until DFACS could investigate.”

“The little boy, Josh.”

She smiled bitterly. “Why am I surprised you knew that? You even included him in the little fairy tale you made for me.” She gestured impatiently as he started to speak. “Have you made our travel arrangements?”

“Would I dare do anything else?” He pulled away from the curb. “A private plane is waiting at Hartsfield. I assumed you'd want your pup in the cabin with you.”

She nodded. “He doesn't like crates. I think it reminds him of the pound.”

“I can tell he's a sensitive soul.” Silver glanced at the dog. “Well, happy is sometimes as good as smart.”

“He's smart . . . sometimes. Usually when food is concerned.” She took out her phone. “I have to tell my boss I'm taking a few weeks off.” She made a face. “He's not going to like it after I spent so much time with Edna and the kids.”

“I've already had Travis call Washington and ask them to exert a little muscle to smooth the path for you.” He glanced at her. “How are your brother and his wife?”

“As good as could be expected. While you're pulling strings, can you find a decent place for Jason to take Laura when the hospital releases her?”

“No problem. I thought that a full-service hotel would be best for the first week or so, and then we'll move them to a rental property. Okay?”

She nodded. “You've thought it all through.”

“I have to make sure you're free of worry.” He added, “I'm sure you'd be skeptical if I also said I wanted them to be as happy and comfortable as possible.” He smiled sardonically. “After all, I'm an abomination.”

“Did that sting?”

“Perhaps.” He thought about it. “I think it did. I'm used to it, but sometimes a word or a particularly vicious attack gets past my guard.”

She was silent a moment. “You can't blame anyone for hating you for messing around in their minds. There couldn't be an uglier intrusion.”

“I don't blame anyone. I'd hate it too,” he said wearily. “Do you think it's fun for me? You have no idea what ugliness people hide from the world. Some people's minds are cesspools.”

“Then stay out of mine.”

He smiled. “Your mind is remarkably clean. Oh, a few sexual repressions and fantasies, but on the whole it's clean and honest and bright. Most of the time it was a pleasure monitoring you. The only problems I had were the nightmares and the barriers you hid behind whenever you thought about your mother's death. That was a cross between riding a tornado and being locked in a coffin.” He glanced at her. “I can imagine what it's like for you. You should have let Travis help you to control it.”

“I'm not interested in your opinion and I'm not looking for a crutch.”

“A little leaning until you learn how to stand on your feet isn't a weakness.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

He grimaced. “Caught. No, I was too mixed up and stubborn to let anyone help me. But you should do what I say and not what I do. It's much healthier. Life would have been a lot simpler for me if I'd had a Michael Travis during those early days.”

“He told me you weren't actually part of his group.”

He shook his head. “The only thing I had in common with Travis or his friends was that the talent came to me in the same way. I was injured in an automobile accident when I was thirteen and in a coma for almost a year. When I came out of it, everyone thought I was normal for a long while. Everyone but me. I knew I was screwed up, but I had no intention of letting anyone else know I believed I was being sucked into other people's minds. I thought I was going crazy, and I intended to live every minute of my life to the fullest before they shut me in the booby hatch. My parents were too busy pushing my brother Cam's political career to pay much attention, so they let me go my own way. And my way was to indulge in every excess under the sun and invent what I couldn't find available.” He shook his head. “Talk about black sheep.”

“Michael said that you and your brother were close. I'm surprised he didn't step in.”

“He tried. He always tried, but I wasn't having any of it. I finally exhausted myself sowing wild oats locally and took off and started wandering the world. I finally hit bottom in Tangiers and was considering going home and committing myself into the local loony bin.”

“What stopped you?”

“Ego. I decided that anyone who was as normal as me in every other way couldn't be nuts just because I was sucked into people's brains. So I gave myself six months to experiment and see if I was really nuts or if it was a true psychic ability. It was an interesting six months. I was lucky I wasn't psychotic after it was over. You'd be surprised how many nasty, twisted minds there are out there, and I dipped into some choice specimens. Sometimes the only way I could survive was to turn their reality into fantasy and alter it so that I could break free.”

“Like you did with me.”

He nodded. “Only their fantasies needed to be much filthier and more complex. I never knew that was part of my talent, but I got to be an expert from sheer necessity.”

“What happened after those six months?”

He didn't answer immediately. “You're very interested. Are you trying to find a gallows to hang me on?”

“I'm trying to find a way to protect myself. I don't want to punish you. It's not worth my while. Besides, I may need you to find Trask.”

“I'm relieved.” He pulled into the airport parking lot. “I don't mind baring my past if it makes you feel safer. What do you want to know? Oh, yes, you asked about what I did after my six months of learning my craft.”

“Craft?”

“Craft, skill, talent. Whatever you want to call it. I decided that I had to develop control and harness the craziness or I'd eventually slip down the path to insanity. I started looking for psychic groups and university projects that could teach me something. It was a very delicate operation to investigate without letting anyone know I was there on the outside looking in. While I was searching I ran across Michael and Melissa Travis. They weren't charlatans and seemed honest, but as far as I could tell there wasn't anyone connected with them with my particular talent, so they'd be no help. I had hopes for the Russian government project, but that didn't pan out either. I couldn't find any group or study that did have anyone like me.”

“I can believe that,” she said dryly.

“So I decided that I was going to be forced to develop it on my own. I joined a psychic think tank at Georgetown University that seemed to be doing some interesting things and I found my niche.”

“What kind of niche?”

He smiled. “Everything from espionage and helping with Homeland Security to doing my bit at local mental-health facilities.”

She raised her brows. “My, don't you sound heroic and charitable.”

“Heaven forbid. I was just learning and expanding my talent so that I ran it instead of it running me. I never wanted to feel as helpless as I did during those first months after I came out of that coma.” He met her gaze. “I think you can identify with that feeling.”

She could identify, but she didn't want to admit to any bond with him. “I didn't know what was happening, but I never thought I was going crazy. I just thought I needed to get a handle on what was going on in my head.”

“Well, our talents are a bit different. Yours came and went erratically. I couldn't get away from mine. Every day I had to face it. Before I developed control there was no telling whose mind I was going to be sucked into.”

She tried to imagine what that would be like and shuddered at the thought. My God, she'd had only a small taste of what he must have gone through with Trask, and it was the seed of which nightmares were born. “Yes, it would be different.” Christ, she was actually feeling sorry for him, and that was a megamistake. No one was less deserving of sympathy than Brad Silver. He had faced his problems and found a way to solve them, but that didn't excuse him for invading her privacy. “But I didn't suck you into anything.”

“True.” He parked the car and opened the door. “You're the victim and I'm the bad guy. I don't expect you to forgive me.”

“That's good.” She jumped out of the car and let Sam out of the backseat. “Because I've no intention of letting you off the hook.” She started for the terminal. “Come on, Sam.”

“I just had a thought. How good a flier is Sam?”

“I've no idea. He's never been on an airplane.” She gave him a malicious glance. “But he does occasionally get carsick.”

T
his is your house?” Kerry gazed at the white-columned mansion with the same amazement she'd experienced moments ago when they drove through the iron gates that enclosed the Oakbrook estate. “I'm surprised. It doesn't look like you.”