Phoenix (16 page)

Mort considered this, then nodded. "Alright."
He sighed and handed Brad his car keys. "Alright. Go. I’ll let you
know if something happens."

Brad nodded once and slid into the driver’s
seat. Adams was already buckled in and tapping his foot, ready to
go.

As he backed down the driveway, Brad glanced
down at his passenger’s foot and said, "I hope you aren’t going to
do that the whole trip."

Adams smiled and turned up the radio.

* * *

Rakburn stood in the hallway with Sam and
watched the coroner and his team remove Boucher’s body. One
detective and two police officers were still inside the room.
Thanks to his friend’s considerable abilities, they had been
allowed to stay and participate in the "investigation."

In other words, Sam had manipulated the
authorities’ minds in their favor, allowing this incident to go
relatively unnoticed. As a matter of fact, everyone there, besides
Rakburn and Sam, was under the assumption that this was a suicide.
The next day, Rakburn knew the news headlines would read something
like: CEO Takes Own Life. There would undoubtedly be some sort of
quote from the Board stating their resolve to finish what the late
Mr. Boucher had started, and that business would carry on as
usual.

Sam hung up from who he’d been talking to and
turned to Rakburn. "Well, I was right. They’re going apeshit."

"That was to be expected."

"Yes, yes it was." Sam narrowed his eyes and
studied Rakburn. "Is that why you did it? To make them go
crazy?"

Rakburn’s eyes widened. "Whatever do you
mean?"

"Bullshit. You know exactly what I mean." Sam
rubbed his chin and put his hands on his hips. "You’re the only one
I know with the juice and motive to pull this off. Or have you
forgotten what we talked about that night, after the termination
order?"

Rakburn sighed. "No, I have not forgotten. I
have disagreed with the Board for some time now. That is no
secret."

"Wrong. It
was
a secret because I did
exactly what I told you I’d do. I bought you some
time
." He
turned his back, paced the room, and swore. "Jesus, Thomas. I
covered your ass! I worked my power on them so
you’d
have
time to decide what the hell to do with your targets!"

Rakburn patted the air with his hands. "Calm
yourself, my friend. You are drawing unwanted attention." He tilted
his head and indicated the two police officers who had turned their
heads in his direction.

Sam gritted his teeth and smiled at the men,
giving them a small wave. He stepped closer to Rakburn until they
were standing shoulder to shoulder. "I don’t know who you talked
into doing this, but I know you did. I saw him myself. You’d never
get your own hands dirty."

Rakburn’s only answer was a modest smile.

Sam nodded. "I see. Well, I’d like to know
why, because it doesn’t make any sense to me. Boucher was a goddamn
puppet
, you knew that. Knocking him off does nothing,
stops
nothing. And besides, why in the
world
would
you want to
stop
us?" His voice hissed out from between his
teeth so fast he sounded like a snake.

"My dear friend," Rakburn said. He slipped an
arm around Sam’s shoulders. "I have never wanted to
stop
you. It is true, I have not always agreed with the Board’s actions.
And in those instances, I made my own decisions, as well as
instructed the other agents. As you said before, I
am
the
senior agent, and regardless of what you believe, they
do
take their orders from me." His smile widened. "You have never been
in charge of us."

Sam’s brow wrinkled. "Better get to your
point."

"Ah, yes." Rakburn removed his arm and
clasped his hands together in front of him. "My point,
sir
,
is you have been dragging your feet for far too long. You…and when
I say you, I mean the entire Board…have been playing defense, when
you should have been playing offense. Call this," he tilted his
head toward the large bloodstain inside the hotel room,
"incentive."

"Incentive? For what?"

"Action. Tell me, have they launched
Operation Phoenix?"

Sam’s face paled and he took a step away from
Rakburn.

"Ah, that would be a yes, then. You see,
while I have not agreed with your penchant for terminating targets,
I have disagreed even more so with your unwillingness to do what we
have
all
known it would take to win this race. If Operation
Phoenix had been implemented months ago, this country…dare I say,
the entire
world
, would not be in the situation it currently
finds itself."

"You sneaky son of a bitch," Sam said.

Rakburn noted that, besides an obvious lack
of anger, his friend was smiling. "I take it, then, that you do not
disapprove?"

Sam shook his head and chuckled. "You’ve done
well, Agent. Damn well. If this hadn’t happened," he indicated the
hotel room and the officers who were preparing to leave, "then it
could’ve been who knows how long before we’d moved on to the next
step. And let’s face it: Operation Phoenix is the only resort we
have left. Why wait, yes?"

"Precisely. You have waited long enough as it
is."

"As always, I agree with you. And it doesn’t
even matter that the Board is panicking. They’ve started Phoenix,
and that’s what matters." Sam sighed. "You know what happens next,
right?"

Rakburn fixed his friend with a glare.
"Priorities and loyalties, old friend." He turned his back and
started toward the elevator. "Priorities and loyalties."

"Is that the army?" Adams asked. His head
turned back and forth like a dog’s, watching vehicle after
camouflaged vehicle pass their car and speed off toward the town
they were drawing closer to.

"Yeah."

"Better give them some room. Fuckers are
putting it down the road."

Brad snorted and kept his eyes straight
ahead. It’d taken all he had not to throw Adams from the car during
the trip. The man was obsessed with tapping that damn foot, and it
was driving Brad crazy. He also had a bad habit of cracking his
neck like some people snap and pop their chewing gum.

"Hey, we’re getting close now," Brad said.
"You said you’d try again when we got closer, right?"

Adams gazed out the window. "Yes."

"Okay, so do your thing and find her."

"Ask me a question and I will."

Brad exhaled and gripped the wheel. "Fine.
Oh, Magic Eight-Ball, is Izzy still alive?"

"Yes."

Brad glanced from the road to Adams. "Still
working then, apparently."

Adams shrugged. "Apparently."

Brad watched with growing concern the number
of vehicles leaving the city. They were on a four-lane road, and
the two lanes heading away from town were packed, bumper to bumper.
Traffic hadn’t come to a complete halt yet, but horns were starting
to blare. They were finally hearing things on the radio about the
epidemic, as well. But Brad realized pretty quickly that Adams and
the others had been right: the government and the press had waited
way too long to start warning people. If they’d kept reporting
everything as it had actually happened, instead of sweeping shit
under the rug, people would have already known what was happening
and maybe the government could have done something to help the
country prepare.

"Least we don’t see any smoke," Adams said.
"Or a mushroom cloud."

"Jesus, Adams."

Adams shrugged. "What?"

Brad shook his head and slowed the car. They
were now driving through what could pass as suburbs. A few more
blocks and they’d be in the city proper. "Where’s this
college?"

"Hold on." Adams pulled a map from the glove
box and leaned over it.

Brad laughed. "You need to use a
map
?"

"Did you
ask
a yes or no question?"
Adams traced a route with his index finger. He glanced up, took
note of a street sign, looked down at the map, and said, "Take a
right up here."

Still chuckling, Brad followed the directions
relayed to him. Judging from the looks of things, Izzy’s school lay
somewhere between the ‘burbs and the city, right on the border. If
it was going to hell in town, that might prove to be to their
advantage.

"I can’t believe she’d still be there. All
that traffic leaving town? Why would classes still be in session if
things were so bad everyone was leaving?"

Adams looked up from the map just long enough
to see where they were. "No idea."

"Oh, sorry." Brad rephrased, "Magic
Eight-Ball, are classes still in session?"

"Fuck you and no. Turn left."

Brad turned left and the college came into
view. It was a state college and all the buildings were located on
one campus. Surrounding the main buildings were a few
dormitories.

"Ask me if she’s there." Adams pointed to the
right.

"Is she in that dorm?"

"No. And start with the first one, all the
way over there, far right. Let’s try to keep this organized."

Brad followed Adams’ finger and saw the
building he was talking about. "Got it. Is she in that one?"

Adams struggled this time. He twitched and
jerked his head. His right hand lifted and curled, his index finger
convulsing.

"Hey," Brad said, "are you okay?"

"No."

Brad leaned back and waited. They’d been
sitting at the stop sign for too long, and he kept glancing up in
his rearview to make sure no one was behind him.

"Ah, shit." Adams sounded like he’d been
holding his breath. He leaned over and wiped at his nose. His
finger came back with a spot of blood. "Yeah, she’s in that
one."

"Holy shit." Brad grabbed Adams by the
forearm. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

Adams jerked away. "Yes, I’m fine. It’s
just…this happens when I ask myself stuff."

"But you didn’t. I asked you."

"Well, yeah, you did. But you’re too damn
slow, so I asked myself more to get more information. Time being of
the essence and all."

"Like what about?"

Adams blew out a breath. "Like about how safe
it is around her dorm right now, if we can get to the parking lot
okay,
where
the parking lot even is, and the best way to get
to it? You know, important shit."

"Wait. You can do more than just yes-or-no
things?"

"Yes. But
this
," Adams wiped his nose
again and shoved a bloody finger at Brad, "is what happens."

"Okay, geeze." He focused on the road and
followed Adams’ directions. Brad made a few more turns, working his
way around a block so he could come up on the dormitory from behind
and not have to navigate through the campus itself. Adams said it
was in bad shape, so Brad wanted to avoid areas of higher traffic,
vehicular and human. Brad kept his eye on the other vehicles coming
and going. Traffic wasn’t as thick here as it had been on the
freeway, but there was a steady number of what he assumed to be
students coming to and leaving campus. He noted the ones driving in
were leaving pretty soon afterward. He pulled into the parking lot
of the dorm and shut off the car.

"She still here?"

"Yes." Adams was staring at the side of the
building.

"You gonna blink?"

"Yes." Adams blinked in rapid succession.
"I’m good. Let’s get her and get out. There’s something very wrong
here."

Brad felt it too, but it was hard to
distinguish where it was coming from because his radar kept
shorting out. Of course, Adams was much more experienced than Brad
when it came to using his extra senses. If Adams said there was
trouble beyond what Brad was picking up, he was damn sure going to
listen to him.

"Let’s get it done then," Brad said.

They opened their doors and got out. Only
then did they hear the noise the radio had been drowning out.
Sirens and gunfire. None of it seemed to be originating from the
campus, which wasn’t much of a relief. They spared a glance at one
another, then speed-walked together to the back entrance. Brad
opened the door and let Adams take point.

The first floor seemed empty except for faint
voices they could hear somewhere in the vicinity of the lobby. They
weren’t headed in that direction. Adams cut to the right and
disappeared into a stairwell.

"Listen up," he said to Brad once the door
was shut. "We need to find out which floor she’s on, and I don’t
want to blow my fucking head up trying to figure it out myself, so
start asking me about one floor at a time, okay?"

Brad nodded. "Is she on one?"

"No."

Brad was relieved to see the answer come so
easily and without bloodshed. "Is she on two?"

"No."

"Is she on three?"

"No."

Brad sighed, hoping this building wasn’t very
tall because if it was, this was going to take a while. He asked
about the fourth floor and instead of answering, Adams turned and
started jogging up the steps. Between floors two and three they
passed a group of students, ages varying, all looking like they
were in a daze. Brad almost panicked. They looked so much like the
dead in his visions he wasn’t sure if they were real. When he saw
Adams dodge them, he figured he should do the same.

Yep
,
real
.

They weren’t dead, not quite. But they sure
as hell weren’t healthy, either. Their skin was a sickly white and
their eyes almost blank. They were walking and going down the
stairs well enough, though a few kept stumbling and falling into
their classmates. As he passed, none of them made a move to grab
him, which he thought was promising.

Just
sick
.
Not
dead
.

Adams reached the fourth floor door and wiped
blood that still leaked from his nose while he waited for Brad to
catch up. They both took a moment and leaned over the banister,
watching the group of sick people walk and stumble their way to the
first floor.