The Ancient Breed (23 page)

Suddenly, it leaped forward and quickly covered the short distance between it and its solitary prey. Nick didn’t freeze this time. He ran through the wall as the demon swiped at him with its lethal claws.

Swirling pink and gold brushstrokes brightened dawn’s gray canvas as the survivors strode from thin air eighty yards south of Tobhor’s fortress. Neo, the other FBI agents, and the National Guardsmen gaped at the incredible spectacle. Nick was the last to appear; he tumbled out among the other survivors and rolled to a stop in the damp muck.

They crowded around him and shouted out the identical question –
how’d you find the exit?

Nick stood and brushed the muck clumps from his clothes. “As you may have noticed, all the symbols were completed. All the dots connected. The pentagrams, pentagons and circles, and so forth. Only the symbol of the five, unattached points was different. Since it wasn’t enclosed, I figured the builder was trying to tell us that, no matter how amazing it seemed, that symbol was the exit.” Nick explained wearily.

“That part of the wall was like a hologram,” the doctor remarked. “It only looked solid.”

“No,” Lisa disagreed, “it wasn’t a hologram. Science had nothing to do with it. It was magic. Just plain magic.”

“It was solid to the demon guardian, or it’d be standing here with us,” Nick argued.

The doctor laughed. “Magic. Bullshit! There’s a scientific explanation for everything.”

Lisa was about to reply when Nick pulled her to his side. He caught a glimpse of something wedged in her cleavage.

“Hey buddy!” Nick called to the doctor.

“What?”

Nick smiled. “When that demon bites off your pompous ass, then maybe you’ll believe in magic.”

Neo and several of his companions snickered as they arrived on the scene, but the doctor merely scowled and rushed away.

“Magic, huh? Your favorite subject, Nick,” Neo quipped. “Mind telling us how you managed your escape, Houdini?” He extended his large hand and slapped high fives with both Lisa and Nick.

“I’ll give you the scoop later,” Nick answered. “Right now, I’d give my right arm for a shower, a loaded pizza, and a cold beer.”

Neo grinned. “Can do.” He pulled his motel key from his slacks pocket and tossed it to Nick.

“I’ll take care of the pizza and beer,” Lisa volunteered. “I know a little hole-in-the-wall down the road from the motel that makes some great pizza. And best of all, they deliver.”

“Sounds wonderful. Damn wonderful,” Nick said, yawning.

Neo accompanied them to the abandoned Range Rover.

“Did you run a trace on those Sikorsky helicopters?” Nick asked.

“We’ve got the FAA and our boys on it. They should come up with something pretty soon,” Neo replied.

“I hope so. We’re in for a world of trouble if that fountain water is distributed all over the world,” Nick said gravely.

Neo cleared his throat. “We found Blossom alive,” he declared.

Nick gave Lisa a quick squeeze as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“Are we still going with the original kidnapping plan regarding Clay, Nick?” Neo asked.

“Until things get better, I’m afraid so.”

Neo exhaled slowly. “It’ll be tough on Blossom.”

“What will?’ Lisa asked, worried.

“I’m afraid that information is top secret,” Nick answered. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to trust me again.”

Lisa tucked her hand in his. “So far, you haven’t let me down.”

“And I don’t plan to.” He looked over at Neo. “Did you arrest the kidnappers?”

Neo repeated the information he’d received from Blossom and Lieutenant Cartwright.

“So that leaves one bastard left,” Nick said thoughtfully. “You know which horse my money’s on for the target, don’t you?”

Neo nodded. “Yeah, the First Lady while she’s doing her hospital gig.”

“Right—but remember, the race hasn’t been run. That guy in the basement might have been there to rig a diversion from the actual target, too.”

Lisa frowned. “You mean the hospital murder victim was one of the kidnappers?”

“Yeah, the one who went to pieces down there,” Nick quipped.

Neo rolled his eyes. “Too bad you didn’t lose your sick sense of humor in that tunnel,” he groaned, then looked at Lisa. “Seriously, from our initial analysis of the evidence, it certainly looks like he was one of them,” Neo replied.

“I hope you’ve got Blossom’s room under a twenty-four hour watch,” Nick said.

“Of course. Would Crow settle for anything less?”

They both grinned as they reached the Range Rover.

“Sleep tight, Sleeping Beauty,” Neo said to Nick. “I’ll supervise the terrorist preparations up in Tampa, at least until Lisa gets around to planting one mother of a lip-lock on your undeserving lips to wake you from the dead.”

Lisa clutched Nick’s arm. “He should be so lucky.”

She went around to the other side of the Range Rover and climbed inside while Nick pulled Neo aside.

“We still got problems, Neo. That damned demon’s still alive down there.”

“So I gathered. That means it’ll be coming after Blossom.”

“Right. As soon as her doctors elevate her health status, we’ve got to move her somewhere safe,” Nick explained.

“Yeah, but is there any place safe from that monster?”

“One.”

“Oh no, tell me you’re not thinking about
that place
, Nick.”

“I’m thinking about
that place
.”

“I asked you not to tell me that!” he whispered.

“Can’t be helped, old buddy. I presume you know the way?”

“I’ve tried to forget it.”

“Then I’ll take care of it.”

“No – no, I’ll do it. I was just fuckin’ with you.”

Nick shielded his face from the low, rising sun. “Thanks. Call me later if there are complications.”

“With Duneden, there’s always complications,” Neo grumbled.

Nick slid behind the steering wheel, and Lisa scooted beside him. After he negotiated a three-point turn, they were on their way to Fort Myers.

“Hand over Neo’s motel key,” she requested demurely.

He arched his left brow. “Give one good reason why.”

“I’ll give you three. Pizza, beer, and me. My room only.” She snuggled close to him.

“What about that little bottle in your bra? You going to throw that in, too?”

She stiffened. “How’d you . . .”

He smiled. “I caught a glimpse of it earlier.”

She seductively unbuttoned the front of her blouse. “Really? And did you see anything you’d like?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Good. Cause if you want the bottle, you’re going to have to get it yourself.”

His fingertips descended into her cleavage and pried the bottle away from its sensuous resting place. He immediately tossed it out the window. The glass shattered upon impact, and the liquid quickly evaporated on the warming, blacktop road.

She pressed against him during the short trip to the motel. Her blouse remained unbuttoned.

24

J

ay Walkingman emerged from the side doors of
Arthur’s Bon Appetit Gourmet Catering
van and lugged numerous cartons of catering supplies into the Tampa VA Hospital. His picture ID badge was pinned to his white uniform and read Carl Sanger, Assistant Manager. “Carl Sanger” was clean-shaven, had blue eyes, wore trendy clothes, and had frosted, gel-slick hair.

His terrorist contacts first got wind of the First Lady’s visit to the Tampa VA Hospital’s new medical center seven months ago. Five months later, Jay was instructed to establish himself as a model employee at
Arthur’s
to validate his cover as a worker at the VA Hospital luncheon celebrating the gala opening of its new cancer wing. The terrorist organization’s worldwide network of computer hackers implanted a complete life history for the counterfeit “Carl Sanger” in all the appropriate government and law enforcement databases.

It was late Thursday afternoon, and a seemingly endless stormy mélange of silver and soot shrouded the city and flooded the area creeks, rivers, and lakes. Jay was extremely pleased. The tri-county emergency management teams and the local law enforcement agencies were busy dealing with the floods and their victims, rather than concentrating on searching for a possible assassin.

Jay grinned as he stacked the remaining cartons packed with linen tablecloths and napkins onto his dolly and wheeled it into the hospital ballroom kitchen. He was pleased that the Secret Service, NSA, and FBI forces would be spread thin safeguarding the Vice President of the United States, two prominent U.S. Senators, and the First Lady in Tampa. Without the support of the local cops, there’d be no time for many of their usual, fastidious background checks; they would be fortunate if they were able to complete all the necessary bomb searches and staff their sniper positions.

Of course, Jay thought, his act of terrorism would be nonviolent, at least until the end. His grin widened. The
end
of United States president, Shelton Hanover.

Walkingman had already stashed his small satchel of mission accouterments in a large, unlocked cabinet located inside a maintenance closet near the ballroom. The satchel’s ID plate identified the contents as a replacement squeegee blade kit. He simply placed it among dozens of supply cartons. His underground terrorist instructors had taught him that the surest way to secure an item that he didn’t want found was to place it in plain sight. The most obvious display often attracted the least suspicion.

When he and his two
Arthur’s Bon Appetit Gourmet Catering
assistants finished unloading the nonperishable supplies for tomorrow’s luncheon, they climbed into the green and mauve company van and slowly approached one of the many FBI checkpoints recently set up at every hospital entrance and exit. The two agents manning the station merely waved the van through.

His operation tomorrow would be a piece of cake, he thought. Once it was completed, his terrorist counterparts would be kissing his ass. The organization’s head honcho had already promised to promote him to supervisor of the United States terrorist cell if he succeeded with the First Lady, Leann Hanover.

Despite his optimistic mind-set, Jay’s high spirits withered. It was a damn shame that Blossom couldn’t be at his side tomorrow to witness that historical moment. He exhaled heavily. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. She was an uncontrollable risk, and a jinx to boot.

He forced a modest grin. No doubt, the snakes and rats in the bungalow had either given Blossom a heart attack or driven her insane by now. Either way, by the time someone discovered her, she’d be worm food.

His former sweetheart was no longer an obstacle to his impending, triumphant achievement.

Grant Donovan entered Tobias’s private office, poured himself a single malt scotch, and sat at the round conference table. Tobias Simpkins looked up from last month’s company accounting report, removed his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. A black cloud hovered inside the ceiling air duct above the desk, unseen.

“Have you cleaned up our little mess?” Tobias asked his partner.

“Completely,” Grant replied and took a sip of the warm scotch. “The helicopters are at the bottom of the Atlantic past the continental shelf, well beyond salvage depth.”