The Day After Never - Retribution (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 4) (11 page)

The security head nodded and moved out of earshot, and Snake waited as the figure neared. A Caucasian man in his forties with thinning straw-colored hair approached him with his hand outstretched. “Snake? I’m Lassiter. Sorry to hear Magnus is no longer with us.”

Snake shook hands with the improbable apparition, noting that his suit looked new. His skin was bronzed, but not like that of someone accustomed to being outside for work – more the leisure tan of the prosperous and well fed.

“You knew Magnus?” Snake asked.

Lassiter nodded. “I mentioned we had an agreement. We’re anxious to continue it with you. That’s what brings me to Houston.”

“Who are you with?”

“A group that doesn’t toss its name around.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that. Who are you, and why do you want to meet with me?”

Lassiter sighed, as though disappointed in an errant schoolboy’s inadequate answer, and nodded once. When he spoke, his voice was so soft Snake had to strain to hear. “We need you to understand how things work. As to who I am, suffice it to say that I’m someone who can commandeer one of the few warships on the seas for a personal errand and who can burn thousands of gallons of precious diesel to meet with you. Figure it out. I represent power, and power has come to Houston to cut a deal.” Lassiter paused, watching Snake to ensure he was absorbing his words. “Now come aboard, and I’ll show you around while we talk.”

Snake shook his head. “No way.”

Lassiter’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Two ways this goes down. Either you come aboard and hear me out, or we level Houston and there’s nothing left of you within the hour. You seem smart. I trust you’ll make the right choice.”

“I asked you who you are. I want an answer. Are you the government?”

The trace of a smile played across Lassiter’s face. “There is no such animal anymore, at least not in the sense you’re thinking. No, think of us as the influence behind the throne, if that helps. A loose collection of the interested who hold the power of life and death over you, and everyone else we choose.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the best I can do, other than to say that it’s obvious Magnus didn’t share his knowledge of us with you, which is heartening. That was part of the arrangement.”

“Riddles,” Snake spat. “Last time I ask. Who are you?”

“Let’s just say it’s comforting to see you using one of our symbols tattooed on your head. Now follow me – this heat is stifling, and we have important matters to discuss.”

Lassiter spun and walked back up the gangplank, leaving a stunned Snake staring at his back. The man didn’t turn around to see whether he was obeying, and Snake hesitated for only a moment before following him up to the deck, waving the shooter off, numb from the obvious import of Lassiter’s words.

Chapter 16

Once on the deck of the destroyer, Snake hesitated in the sunlight, reluctant to follow any further. Lassiter looked annoyed when he heard the Crew leader’s footsteps fall silent and slowly turned toward him.

“You’re…you’re Illuminati?” Snake stammered.

Lassiter’s expression darkened. “We go by many names. It’s not advisable to mention most of them.”

“Then…you’re real. I mean, you exist.”

“A network of like-minded folks who influence events so they turn out for the best? There have been many such groups throughout history. The wonder is that so many believed it impossible that we might be real.”

“But I thought – I mean – you know, that it was more rumor and urban legend than anything.”

“Magnus knew better.” Lassiter paused. “The best trick the devil ever played was convincing humanity he didn’t exist. That’s a bit overblown, but there is much merit to remaining in the shadows.”

“Was Magnus one of you?”

“Membership in our club is confidential.”

“So he was? He’s dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

Lassiter frowned. “We know he’s dead. That’s why we’re here. To have some face time with you and come to an agreement.”

“About what?”

“Magnus was helping us. In return, we helped him. It was a simple transaction at its core.” Lassiter shaded his eyes from the sun. “Now let’s get out of the heat. We can continue our discussion in the air conditioning.”

“You expect me to just follow you in?”

“Why wouldn’t you? Or more accurately, do you not grasp that you don’t have a choice?” Lassiter sized him up. “Look, if we wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. A sniper round. Or I could have had a latex mold on my hand coated with a cutaneous poison that would stop your heart in less than a minute. There are infinite ways to end a life. But you’re more valuable to us alive, so relax. We’re going to make you the offer of a lifetime. Now let’s go. I don’t have all day.”

Snake bristled at Lassiter’s tone but understood he was in no position to argue. And he believed every word the man said – if he’d wanted Snake dead, he already would have been.

They entered the ship, mounted the stairs, and stopped at an empty officer’s lounge. Lassiter took a seat and savored the arctic blast of the air conditioning from an overhead grid and then offered Snake a drink. Snake declined, and Lassiter invited Snake to sit across from him at the table while he blotted his brow with a white cloth handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Snake did as asked, and Lassiter sat forward.

“Magnus was helping us with the vaccine. I can’t underscore to you the importance of having sole control over it or our disappointment that he wasn’t successful in eradicating Shangri-La. As long as it exists in any form, it’s a threat to us, which means it’s a threat to our allies – the Crew being one of our most important ones.”

“What’s it to you? I mean, if others get a vaccine?”

“It isn’t in our best interests to have competing variants out there. Diminishes our negotiating power with other groups.”

“What other groups?”

“What remains of foreign governments. Other warlords like yourself. Take your pick.”

Snake looked around the lounge, which appeared to be in pristine shape. “Where did you get the fuel to run this thing?”

“We have access to refining capability, as well as the know-how to operate and maintain the vessel.”

“Where are you based?”

“A number of places.”

“I’ve heard rumors of underground cities with power and water.”

“There’s usually an element of truth to persistent stories.”

“Then you have a headquarters?”

Lassiter sat back. “Snake, here’s the deal. We’ll help you solidify your hold on the Crew, as well as its territory. We’ll provide you with an advisor, who will get you anything you need – although frankly you already have huge tracts of territory, so it’s more likely to be guidance that you’re lacking than resources. We helped Magnus obtain most of what he had, and we’ll assist you as well. In return, we expect you to help us.”

“Wait. You worked with Magnus to get his territory?”

“We heard of his interest in our philosophy and decided that there was a synergy there; so, yes, we did. We advised him on how to overcome any resistance, what boundaries to draw that would be sustainable, how to control the territory once he had it, and so on.” Lassiter smirked. “Did you really believe he could have achieved all that on his own?”

“I always thought he did.”

“Well, he had help.” Lassiter paused. “Help we’re prepared to offer you.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“How’s your search for Shangri-La going?”

Snake looked away. “Slow. They’ve disappeared.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re putting much into finding them.”

“What’s the point? That was Magnus’s thing, not mine. And he lost a decent chunk of our fighting force pursuing them.”

“It’s important that you locate them. You should make it your top priority.”

“I have bigger problems at the moment.”

“Ah. Yes. We’ve heard stirrings.”

Snake’s eyes darted to Lassiter’s. “What have you heard?”

“Some of your hubs are no longer loyal.”

Snake nodded. “New Orleans tried to assassinate me.”

“And they’re a formidable adversary.”

“We can take them.”

“But you haven’t moved against them yet.”

“I’m pretending I don’t realize they were behind it or that they’re shorting me every month.”

Lassiter managed an approving smile. “Ah. A thinker. Take them by surprise. I like that.”

“How do you know about them?”

“We have eyes everywhere. As your tattoo symbolizes.” Lassiter shifted in his chair. “We’ll give you gold with which to recruit mercenaries and to buy arms. We’ll help you get one of the refineries operational so you can power your vehicles. We’ll leave a top tactician with you to advise you on how best to deal with your mutiny. But you need to step up your efforts to locate Shangri-La, wherever it’s moved, and wipe it from the earth.”

“You can get the refinery working again? We’ve been trying for years.”

Lassiter waved a hand as though such a thing were trivial. “I trust we have your full attention?”

Snake nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

Lassiter rose abruptly and walked to the door. “I’ll be back with my man. His name is Zacharias. Zach. I’m sure you’ll get along swimmingly.”

Snake fidgeted, his head swimming with Lassiter’s revelations about his secret group and the existence of not only a powerful force that had been responsible for Magnus’s success, but limitless resources available to him. The man had spoken of gold as though discussing the weather, and brushed aside Snake’s incredulousness at being able to restart a refinery as though it was self-evident that it was well within their capabilities. No wonder Magnus had been all-powerful and confident. With a group like that behind him, the sky was the limit.

A doubt nagged at Snake, though. If the Illuminati had the capability of bringing one of Houston’s refineries back into operation, why hadn’t they done so for Magnus?

The answer was obvious: because they hadn’t had to in order to get what they wanted from him. Why give Magnus the ability to further expand his power if they wanted him as a regional player rather than a national one? They’d offered what was necessary and nothing more.

Lassiter reappeared with a bulldog of a man in tow, his face all planes, his steel gray hair cropped close to his head, and his unblinking eyes the color of lead. Lassiter introduced them and Zach’s voice matched his appearance – gruff, a no-nonsense rasp that didn’t waste a word.

“You mentioned gold?” Snake said, completing the introductions.

“That’s right. We have a thousand one-ounce bars for you. Zach will arrange delivery to your headquarters,” Lassiter said.

“Where are the rest of your men? I didn’t see any crew.”

Lassiter smiled. “They’re giving us our privacy.”

Zach turned his wedge of a head to Lassiter. “I’m going with him?”

“That’s right. Help him however you can.”

Zach nodded, his expression unreadable. Snake cleared his throat and eyed him. “You know where our headquarters is?”

“I’ll find it. Have a horse I can use?” Zach asked.

“Sure. How long will it take to get me the gold?”

Zach held his stare. “You’ll have it by day’s end.”

“And the refinery?” Snake pressed.

Lassiter fielded the question. “That will take some time. But don’t worry. We’ll make some of our fuel from the ship’s stores available. More than sufficient for your immediate needs.”

Snake’s eyes darted around the room. “When are you leaving?”

“Once Zach indicates we don’t need to remain any longer.”

Snake pondered the response for several moments and angled his head at the door. “Are we done?”

“Yes. Kindly ensure that none of your men intrude on us while we’re in port. My crew will stay on board, so all we require is enough of a guard that we aren’t disturbed.”

Snake nodded. “Anything else?”

“Zach will keep us abreast of your progress and needs.” Lassiter hesitated. “Thank you for coming. Don’t forget to make locating Shangri-La your top priority.”

“You can bet on it.”

Lassiter offered a frosty smile that never reached his eyes. “We are.”

Chapter 17

After fifteen days of hard riding, Lucas’s group was finally nearing Tulsa. The area they’d covered over the last few days had been surprisingly lush and green after the unvaried flatness of the high plains prairie they’d left behind. They’d spent the night under the stars, glad that the rain that had plagued them on and off the last week had abated, leaving the swell of the hills bursting with color and life.

They had skirted the inhabited settlements: Amarillo, a shadow of its former self, and Oklahoma City, the northern limit of the Crew’s territory and so to be avoided at all costs. Travelers along the stretch they’d negotiated had been few and far between, and on the three occasions they’d spotted dust clouds on the horizon, they’d gone to ground and waited for the parties to pass at a safe distance.

By Lucas’s reckoning, they would reach the compound by mid-afternoon, and if all went well, would be riding south toward Mississippi by evening, taking their time, posing as traders in the Crew territory and hoping that they went unchallenged in the outer reaches of the empire.

He had no firm plan for narrowing down whether Sierra’s son had somehow survived the attack on the compound where he’d been living other than to make his way there and poke around. Perhaps there were people living nearby who’d heard about it or who could point them in the right direction. The alternatives grew increasingly unappealing as he went down the list, which included traveling into the belly of the beast and asking questions that would, without a doubt, have the Crew pursuing them within minutes.

The trip had been a monotonous plod across the high plains. Arnold had proved a hardy and resourceful traveling companion, though, as had Colt, George, and John, all serious men with enough trail time to avoid stupid mistakes that could get them killed. They’d kept two-hour watches throughout each night so everyone would be adequately rested as they made their way east beneath a sky as blue as the ocean.