The Reckoning (Unbounded Series #4) (24 page)

When we entered the hotel room, Stella looked up from her laptop, looking no worse for her desperate fight on the boat. “Good, you’re all back in one piece.”

I had a brief vision of Dr. Crandall, blood welling from his back.
Not all of us.
But I didn’t say it aloud. My eyes wandered to Walker Anderson, who’d stood up from the chair next to Stella as we entered. “Where is Habid?” I demanded.

He glanced nervously at the queen bed closest to the door where Jeane still lay unconscious and not breathing. His jaw clenched with determination. “Not until you promise to take me along.”

Anger swept through me at the request. I glanced at Ritter.
May I?
I thought at him. He inclined his head, and I moved to Walker’s side and shoved him against the wall, placing one hand on his neck and the other against his stomach. “What makes you think you can force us to do anything?” I put all the fury I felt at Crandall’s senseless death into the words.

“Because,” choked out Walker, “you guys aren’t like them.”

Ritter had moved to my side. Not because he was worried about Walker striking back but to give me pointers. “Really, you should push a little lower and harder, like I told you with Jeane back home.”

“Like this?” I dug my thumb deeper.

Walker’s eyes grew big. “Stop,” he gasped. “Can’t . . . breathe.”

“Hmm. It works.” I smiled at Ritter, letting up slightly without releasing my hold.

“Why’d you stop?” Ritter asked, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. “What do you care if one more foolish mortal dies?” I knew his words were only to scare the reporter. I’d seen Ritter go to great lengths to protect innocent mortals—even stupid ones like Walker.

“You have a point,” I said. “He seems determined to get himself killed anyway, doesn’t he?” Walker’s eyes widened further.

A soft gasp from the bed pulled our attention away from Walker. Jeane was, apparently, back in the world of the living. I released the reporter, ignoring him as he huddled against the wall, clutching his throat.

“Ohhh,” Jeane moaned. “I sure hate this, but it’s beginning to be a habit with me these days.” Her hand went to the hole in her wet suit where she’d taken the bullet. “It went right through me, didn’t it?”

Shadrach glided to her side, shaken out of the morose state he’d fallen into on the drive back. He put his hand in the middle of her chest, closing his eyes. “Yes, the bullet is out. If you’ll lie still a moment or two, I can help direct the healing. From the rate of repairs, it looks like the curequick is doing its job.”

“Sure is. I’m as high as a kite.” She laughed at the cliché, batting her eyes at Shadrach. “You sure have a way with your hands.”

“You need to learn to stay out of the line of fire,” I said to her, bothered by the smile Shadrach gave her in return. Wasn’t the guy married? “You almost cost us the plutonium.”

“But we got it, right?” she asked.

“We got some of it,” I corrected. With Jeane awake, the larger box that still contained the snake in my head was no longer emitting blue light. I hoped that I continued feeling great with her help.

Walker pushed himself away from the wall, his pale, narrow face unyielding. “Ha! I knew it was something big, and I guessed it was nuclear, which is why I came down here in the first place. When Habid contacted me tonight, he said something about plutonium, and I think he’s near the shipment. Or
a
shipment, I guess, if you already recovered some of it.”

Stella turned to him, her headset blinking. “And you didn’t think to tell me he mentioned plutonium when he contacted you?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t promise you’d take me with you . . . or, uh, nearly choke me to death for information.” Walker looked at me and rubbed his neck, as if expecting a repeat. Both lamps and the two overhead lights had been turned on, and in the oddly bright glow, the reddish highlights in his blond hair were more apparent.

For a moment no one spoke. Reporters weren’t exactly our friends at the moment, especially those who knew about Unbounded, and none of us wanted to drag him along. But we
had
to recover the rest of the plutonium.

I moved toward Walker again, this time slowly. His eyes grew wary, but he wasn’t backing down. A twinge of guilt gnawed at me as I pushed through his shield and into his mind. “Walker,” I said, “where is Habid? What did he say about the plutonium? If you don’t tell me, I assure you I can get that information without your help.”

He hesitated only a second. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything, but you still have to take me along. I’ve learned enough about you to know you’re not the same as those other Unbounded, no matter how you threaten me. It’s all going to come out someday, and you’ll need someone like me to tell your side. Because no way is this going to be easy for the American people to swallow. For
any
of us normal people to swallow.” His gaze flicked to Ritter as the rush of words ended. “Mortals, I mean.”

I nearly rolled my eyes. Ambition wafted from him like an unmistakable stench. Strong enough to drown out his very real fear. “You need to tell us everything, Walker. Every second you wait brings us closer to eight million deaths. And more. How are you communicating with Habid?”

“So you’ll take me with you?” Walker countered.

My fists clenched, but before I could respond, Stella said, “Apparently, Walker has some friends who imagine themselves spies. They’ve created a device that’s similar to a sat phone, except that it only sends a limited burst of information—text—at regular times. It rotates broadcasting channels, very like our locator chips. Well, in a much less sophisticated way. Walker sent this device to Habid when they started their conversation because Habid kept hinting that he was afraid for his life.”

Shadrach made a noise in his throat from his place seated on the bed near Jeane, his mouth tight and his dark eyes bottomless.

Walker nodded, his eyes avoiding both Shadrach and Ritter. “I was worried he’d be kidnapped or killed before he told me the information about the nuclear weapon—that’s what I thought it was at that point, not plutonium to make the weapon. I knew if I didn’t find out where it was going and who it was meant for, I wouldn’t have anything, and he insisted on meeting before he told me any details. So I sent him my tracking device just in case something happened. The last time I talked to him, he sounded extremely spooked.”

“I have no idea how Habid kept Walker’s device through his capture,” Stella added, one brow arching, “but I can imagine.”

“It
was
waterproof.” Walker grimaced slightly. “A bit big, maybe, but he could have swallowed it if he was determined. If he did swallow it, that would explain why it took him several days to send a message.”

“So what did the message say?” Shadrach popped up from the bed, his skin deeply flushed. Like us, he was losing patience with the reporter. “If you don’t tell me, I
will
kill you. I swear it. Habid is my son. My wife’s only son.”

Walker’s nostrils flared. “Okay, look, he was still in Venezuela but leaving on a plane. To Morocco. He heard them say Casablanca. The next broadcast window will be tomorrow. He should be able to tell us more.”

The lights on Stella’s headset began winking at a higher rate, and I knew she was already on the problem of getting us to Morocco.

After a glance at me, Ritter fixed his gaze on Walker. “Go wait in the hall.”

Walker blinked his confusion. “Wait a minute. I’m the only one who knows the sequence of the codes, and I’m not going to tell you.” His jaw clenched as he glanced at Shadrach. “Even if you torture me.”

Ritter’s upper lip twitched slightly. “You have no idea what we’re capable of. Wait in the hall. Now.” Threat dripped from every word. Walker grabbed a jacket from the chair he’d been sitting in and obeyed. When he was gone, Ritter asked me, “You can get the codes from him?”

I nodded. “I already got the first one.”

“Is that wise?” Jeane asked. “With that thing in your head?” Everyone ignored her.

“What are we going to do about our prisoners?” I’d started worrying about them the minute I knew we were heading to Morocco. The unconscious Emporium guards were probably already stowed in the bunks on the plane.

“Oh, right,” Stella said with a grimace. “No way can we fly into Morocco with that kind of cargo. We’ll have to put them somewhere here until we can come back for them.” Left unspoken was the knowledge that if the roles had been reversed, the Emporium would probably cut our people into three parts and dump them into the ocean on the flight over.

“I’m more worried about weapons,” Ritter said. “We’ll probably have to leave them on the plane in Morocco, unless Ava’s got something up her sleeve that I don’t know about to get us past their customs inspection. Last I heard, we don’t have many contacts there.”

“Let me check.” Stella tapped something into her computer. “You’re right. We don’t. At least not at the level we’d need to get past a search of the plane, but rearming there won’t be a problem. And Ava says the president will be able to pull some strings to get Chris immediate clearance to land.”

“The Emporium doesn’t seem to have any problem getting past Moroccan customs,” I reminded them. “They’re flying in with plutonium.
Flying,
which is a no-no where volatile substances are concerned, right? Who are they bribing?”

From her perch on the bed, Jeane responded. “Probably Mohammed VI, if he’s taken over for his father by now. I knew Hassan II back in the day, and both of them are the kind to align themselves with whoever they view as the greatest power. Not very well liked. Hassan’s own people tried to assassinate him twice.” She gave a dry laugh. “Can’t say I blame them, though my relationship with Hassan was considerably more . . . enjoyable.”

Shadrach frowned. “Mohammed has actually seemed to bring some stability to the country, though I don’t admire him at all as a person.”

“Save the politics for later,” I said. “What are we going to do about the reporter?”

“We should take him,” Shadrach said. “This is my son we’re talking about—my
mortal
son. I don’t want to risk his life more than absolutely necessary.”

“I also vote for taking him.” Stella’s laptop brought up a succession of pictures of what I assumed was Casablanca, flashing so fast across the screen I knew I’d have to channel her ability to catch any of it.

Ritter and I both stared at her.

“What?” she asked. “We’re always complaining about having to save these mortals on our own, and how none of them are knowledgeable enough to risk their lives to help themselves. This guy is aware of what’s at stake, and he knows what the Unbounded are and he’s willing to help. He’s also right about our story needing to be told. Better to have him on our side than against us.”

Ritter looked at me, obviously indifferent about the answer. “Fine, let him come,” I said, “but he’s on his own. I’m not taking care of him.” I flashed a purposeful glance at Jeane. I was already stuck with one person who had proven only halfway effective at taking care of herself.

My insinuation didn’t go unnoticed. “You’ll be glad I’m around the next time you meet Delia,” Jeane said.

“Unless you get yourself shot again,” I muttered.

Ignoring me, Jeane shifted her position on the pillows and gave Shadrach one of her annoying smiles. “Thank you. I’m feeling much better now.”

“When will we leave?” I asked.

“We should be cleared soon,” Stella said. “We can’t let them get too far ahead. Of all the Islamic countries to choose from, I’d say Morocco is one of those most friendly to US visitors. No doubt the reason the Emporium chose the country for their backup plan. My bet is they’ll hand off the plutonium to the Iranians and get out of the way. Because I’m pretty sure once Ava and the president finish in Washington, there’s going to be some kind of public backlash.”

“The American people will probably forgive the Emporium in a heartbeat if they donate money or act like they’re protecting the US from Iran.” I sank down into the chair next to Stella, all at once feeling my efforts with Walker. “Everything is forgiven when a common enemy appears. A little spin and the Emporium might come out of this a lot better than we think. For all we know, they own half the media.”

Stella’s nod was short. “We’ll just have to make certain they don’t succeed.” An odd note in her voice alerted my attention. What was up with her? I hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Chris.

Before I could dwell more on this new concern, Ritter turned on his heel and started for the door. “Shouldn’t take me long to find a warehouse to stash our guests. I’ll call Cort and the others to give them a heads-up so they can start unloading them.”

As he spoke, Mari appeared in the room, exactly where Shadrach was standing near the bed. Shadrach gasped, and we stared as she partially materialized and then stepped away from him, becoming completely solid. Despite Shadrach’s exclamation, neither seem damaged.

“That was weird,” Mari said, glancing over at Shadrach who was gaping at her in shock. “Oh, don’t worry. I could see the space was occupied when I was almost there, and I just had to tweak the numbers a bit. It’s cool.”

Shadrach still appeared disconcerted. I couldn’t blame him.

“I’ll take the reporter with me,” Ritter said, diverting our attention from Mari and Shadrach. “Make sure he doesn’t call in any stories.”

“I already took his recording devices,” Stella said. “But he may have previously sent files to a different location. We’ll have to find out before this is over.”

“We’ve a long way to go yet. Cort took the SUV, so I’ll take the reporter’s car. You guys will have to use the one Shadrach rented. Meet you there as soon as I can.” Ritter walked to the door, and I went with him, sensing there was something more he wanted to say.

At the door, he hesitated, his voice lowering so only I could hear. “Don’t take any chances. The Emporium will be looking for us now, and Stella—” He broke off. “Something’s not right. Her fighting is off.”

“I’ll ask her about it.”

His hand left the knob and gripped mine. “I’m still waiting to hear what you meant back there in the clearing. About making me wait.”