Blood Oath (36 page)
Authors: Christopher Farnsworth
His coworker grunted and drained the rest of his soda. A human head. Yeah. Right.
FIFTY-SIX
I
T was so easy. That should have been Cade’s first clue. Konrad had been obliging enough to drive his Ferrari to the port and park it in plain sight. The ship in harbor was plainly marked with the Kuwaiti flag and the logo of KSM Holdings, Inc.
T was so easy. That should have been Cade’s first clue. Konrad had been obliging enough to drive his Ferrari to the port and park it in plain sight. The ship in harbor was plainly marked with the Kuwaiti flag and the logo of KSM Holdings, Inc.
Konrad was standing at a shipping container. Cade saw him clearly from three hundred yards away. He was talking to several Arab men, all wearing jackets that didn’t do much to conceal the weapons underneath.
“Stay down,” he told Zach, and slammed the BMW’s pedal to the floor.
Zach ducked below the window as the car executed a perfect bootlegger turn, sliding to a halt a dozen feet from Konrad and his thugs.
Cade rolled out of the driver’s side. The Arab men—four of them—were still gaping at the car. Cade moved through them like a thresher. Only the last one managed to touch his gun before Cade knocked him into the side of the ship.
They were on the ground like fallen branches when Cade turned to Konrad. He smirked and held up his hands.
“I surrender.”
Cade hit him anyway.
Konrad went down, and Cade pulled him up again by the lapels of his elegant suit.
“Where are they?”
It took Cade a moment to recognize the sound coming from Konrad, a kind of snuffling through the blood streaming from his broken nose.
He was laughing.
“Where are the
Unmenschsoldaten?”
Cade asked, shaking him. “Where?”
Unmenschsoldaten?”
Cade asked, shaking him. “Where?”
“Sehen Sie für sich selbst, ”Konrad
said, smiling with hate.
said, smiling with hate.
Cade dropped him to the ground and stalked over to the container.
Zach stood, peering over the BMW’s roof. He had a bad moment of déjà vu, back to the moment at the Baltimore shipyard, just a few nights before.
“Get back in the car,” Cade ordered. Zach did.
Cade pulled on the handle of the container door. The chain and lock tore like paper.
There were no corpses inside.
There was nothing inside at all.
Konrad’s voice mocked him from behind. “Did you really think I’d plan something so slapdash, so amateurish, as to have a container fail right when your Customs service would discover it?”
Cade turned. “You wanted me to find the first container?”
Konrad spat. “You came running, didn’t you? Such a good little bloodhound.”
Cade tried to make sense of it. “This was just a lure? A trick to get me out here so you could try to kill me?”
“It was worth a try. Helen seemed quite convinced she would be able to deal with you. Impetuous youth.”
Cade still didn’t understand. “So there never were any
Unmenschsoldaten?
This was all about me?”
Unmenschsoldaten?
This was all about me?”
Konrad shrugged, smiling. “Did I say that?”
Cade went into the container. At the back, he stopped, scanned the metal wall—and found something.
He pulled at a lever, almost invisible in the seam of metal where the corners joined. The back of the container swung forward, revealing a hidden compartment.
It looked like the cabin of a luxury cruise liner—cramped but still lavish. A compact bed and desk. Lights built into the walls, along with vents for air. A chemical toilet and a minifridge, running off a rack of batteries.
A perfectly hidden escape pod, built to bypass Customs, metal detectors and cameras.
It all fell into place.
Oh, Lord, forgive me once again for my arrogance, he thought. I’ve been so blind. So stupid.
All this time, he thought the Unmenschsoldaten were on their way to Konrad.
They weren’t. They’d already been here and gone.
Cade stalked out of the container. He lifted Konrad from the ground again.
“Where?” he demanded.
Konrad looked as calm as ever. “Where do you think?”
For a moment, Cade wanted to rip his lungs out. It must have shown, because Konrad finally looked scared.
“They’re in Washington, D.C. Right now. They plan to attack the White House. It could be any moment.”
Cade knew that he was telling the truth. He knew, because he felt it in his bones, felt his sworn duty pulling him away.
By this blood, you are bound
...
...
He had to go. Cade knew he literally could not waste another second.
Konrad knew it, too. The smile returned.
“You should let me go. You’ve got more important things to do.”
... you
are
bound to the President of the United States ...
are
bound to the President of the United States ...
Cade dropped Konrad, cursing himself.
...
and
to the orders of the
officers appointed by
him ...
and
to the orders of the
officers appointed by
him ...
Cade was behind the wheel before Zach saw him move.
Through the windshield, Cade saw Konrad picking himself up off the concrete. The scientist was smiling.
“We’re just letting him go?” Zach screeched.
Cade had the BMW in reverse, then spun it around in a tire-smoking 180.
“Cade, talk to me. What’s going on?” He hurried to get his seat belt fastened as Cade floored it.
Cade’s face was grim. “Konrad was leaving the country. The
Unmensch
soldaten
aren’t here.”
Unmensch
soldaten
aren’t here.”
“So where are they?”
Cade looked at him, and it finally clicked for Zach, too.
It was the container that had to get to Konrad. But the spare parts—the spare parts were exactly where they were supposed to be.
In Washington, D.C.
“The White House?” Zach asked.
Cade nodded. “Call Griff. Tell him to get the president out of there. Do whatever it takes. Then call Edwards.”
“Who?” Zach asked, trying to dial as the car, engine screaming, lurched in and out of the late-night traffic.
“The air force base,” Cade said, snapping off every word. “We need to get back to Washington as fast as possible.”
Zach looked at his watch. Just past one. Which put D.C. at just after four a.m.
“There’s no way we’ll make it, it’s going to be morning there before we land.”
“God damn it,
do
as you’re told, ”
Cade shouted.
do
as you’re told, ”
Cade shouted.
Zach realized, suddenly, they were in the oncoming lane of traffic, headed straight at an oncoming SUV
Cade sliced back into the opposite lane, inches ahead of a slow-moving Ford.
As soon as they were clear, Cade stomped on the gas again, sending the tachometer back into the red. Horns blared after them.
“Make the calls, please,” Cade said, quieter now.
Zach didn’t ask any more questions. He did as he was told.
FIFTY-SEVEN
K
onrad watched Cade’s car disappear around a corner of the shipyard. That had actually been a little too close.
onrad watched Cade’s car disappear around a corner of the shipyard. That had actually been a little too close.
He looked at the security men, scattered on the dock around him. They had been part of his deal with the so-called terrorists: armed bodyguards. He’d thought they might get lucky, maybe damage Cade if all else failed.
Predictably, he’d expected far too much. Konrad suspected the little Arab snot had paid bargain rates.
The man on the ground closest to Konrad groaned. Konrad nudged him with his toe, and the man’s eyes opened.
“One of you still needs to get my container loaded,” Konrad told him. “The man who did this to you—he’s almost certainly going to be back. And I don’t want to be anywhere he can find me.”
The man’s head lolled back, and he closed his eyes again.
Konrad looked to the sky. It was just so hard to find good help these days.
FIFTY-EIGHT
D
ylan checked his watch again. Khaled and the others were late.
ylan checked his watch again. Khaled and the others were late.
Maybe they got stopped. He didn’t know what he was supposed to hope for now.
Then he heard the booming sound of a hand pounding on the back of the truck.
He swung open the door.
Khaled stood there with two of his pals, Gamal and Tariq. All three wore medical scrubs. Khaled carried the cooler. He hoisted it inside the trailer, then reached out his hand.
Dylan hauled him up. He stared at the cooler. “That can’t be them.”
Khaled grinned. “It is. God really wants this country to fall.”
Dylan couldn’t believe it. He opened the cooler, then swore to himself.
Dry ice smoked around four severed heads. They looked like nothing human, not really. They were gray and wrinkled and swollen, the flesh hanging off them like poorly wrapped shopping bags. One eye stared at him, dead as a marble.
Dylan stepped back. The lid fell closed.
Khaled, meanwhile, surveyed the interior of the truck. He nodded.
Everything was there, as Konrad had promised. The tubes and the machines, which sat like waiting insects, ready to buzz into life.
He looked back at Dylan. “You’ve done well. You’ll be rewarded.”
Dylan finally started to figure it out. There was no payday coming.
“Hand me those,” Khaled demanded. He meant the heads.
Dylan nearly vomited, touching the dead skin as he passed them to Khaled. Khaled placed them in the empty metal sockets at the neck of each corpse.
Any hope Dylan had that this was just a crazed fantasy had evaporated. He knew, just as sure as he was holding the heads of corpses while Khaled tightened the bolts.
In the meantime, Gamal and Tariq were strapping themselves into the chairs, hooking up the electrodes to their skin.
It began to dawn on Dylan, something he’d heard long ago in one of those science classes he flunked, you can’t get something for nothing.... Whatever was going to run those corpses had to be kick-started somehow.
He knew it now. This was real. All of it was real. This would work. He had helped to place these things on the Earth.
And he was going to die.
Khaled waited, unmoving, somehow communicating his impatience with just a stare. Gamal and Tariq were strapped down, faces tight with anticipation.
Khaled tightened the screw at the neck of the last creature. He was done.
Dylan glanced at the back of the truck. He had a clear shot at the door.
Now or never. Run or die.
He ran, sprinting for the door. He had it up and was scrambling out, diving like a swimmer for the pavement.
He hit hard and rolled. He could hear Khaled cursing him as he got up.
Dylan kept running. He didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t care. He was done with this nightmare.
He was gone.
FIFTY-NINE
G
riff almost didn’t wake up for the phone. Between the whiskey and his meds, he was pretty out of it. He reached out a hand, knocked the phone over, cursed and then held it to his face.
riff almost didn’t wake up for the phone. Between the whiskey and his meds, he was pretty out of it. He reached out a hand, knocked the phone over, cursed and then held it to his face.
Zach was on the other end, talking a mile a minute. Griff’s relief on hearing the kid’s voice didn’t last long.
He listened. Then he hung up, pulled on his suit jacket and moved as fast as he could for the door.
He choked back the nausea, the booze and the shame all rising in his throat at the same time. He could feel that later, if there was time.
Right now, he had to get to the White House.
FORTY TERRIFYING MINUTES after they started—Zach glanced at the speedometer once and kept his eyes shut tight after that—the car screeched to a halt on the tarmac of a runway at Edwards.
Zach got out of the car on slightly wobbly legs. There wasn’t an aircraft, or a person, anywhere in sight.
“Move,” Cade growled, and Zach wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go.
Then he saw the plane.
It was stark black, unlit, almost invisible against the night sky and the black asphalt. It looked like a flat triangle. But it was hard to see—physically, it was hard for him to focus on it. His eyes seemed to slide off its rounded corners.
A door opened in its belly, and Zach suddenly realized just how big it was—they were still more than a hundred yards away.
A tall, gangling man in a flight suit waved at them impatiently from the hatch—a normal-looking guy surrounded by flying-saucer tech.
“Come on,” he called. “Meter’s running.”
Cade turned to Zach. “Stay here,” he said. “You’ll be safer.”
“Fucking what?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said,” Zach snapped. “You think I’m going to bail out now?”
“I won’t be able to look after you, and I don’t have time to argue,” Cade said, impatience putting an edge in his voice.
“Yeah? Well, that’s fine, because this won’t take long,” Zach said. He wasn’t sure where he was getting the balls for this, but he tumbled forward anyway. “I’m going with you, Cade, and if you don’t like it, tough shit. Because that is an order.”
There was no change in Cade’s tone or facial expression. But somehow, Zach got the unmistakable sensation that the vampire was proud of him.
“Good,” Cade said.
Within a few minutes, Zach was strapped into a half-egg seat, filled with foam that molded itself to his body.
The pilot—the name on his fatigues read AHREN—handed him a mask and helmet. “Put that on,” he said. “Try not to puke into it.”
A copilot turned and checked on Cade, who was already strapped in. Cade had obviously made this run before.
“We don’t have time to put you in the case, sir,” the copilot said. His tag read GRAHAM. Neither of them showed any rank, but they both wore identical patches. A black circle, outlined with red letters, some kind of Latin:
“Si Ego Certiorem Faciam
...
Mihi Tu
Delendus Eris. ”
“Si Ego Certiorem Faciam
...
Mihi Tu
Delendus Eris. ”
“We are going to get a little sunlight when we reach apogee,” the copilot said, like an airline captain pointing out the Grand Canyon to passengers.
“I’ll be fine,” Cade said. “Let’s go.”
The pilots sat in their own chairs, which were more like recliners with a series of wires and tubes. Zach could have sworn he saw one of them insert a computer cable directly into a slot under his jaw, but that had to be an optical illusion. Both pilots zipped up and strapped on large insect-eyed helmets, then began flipping switches.
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