The Infected 3: Cast Iron (16 page)

It was a crap shoot though. This could end up being anything from a bit of a reunion with some old buddies to an all out military assault or even a bomb. Hopefully not, because it was a nice hotel and she had fragile people hanging around. Ones that she kind of liked.

Before she got to the door Penny stopped her, speaking into the ear bud that she’d put back in out of habit. That or Penny had done it for her. That was slightly creepy if it was the case, because she hadn’t noticed it at all.

The voice sounded normal though. Like a woman in her early-to-mid twenties.

“Where are you headed? I mean, we’re supposed to be on the buddy system or something, right? I can go with you, if you want. Watch you pick up guys or whatever.”

It was a great idea, if one slightly hard to coordinate normally. She smiled and gave the room a nod. She didn’t want to say it all out loud, in case the room had been bugged again, but it was really almost never a mistake to have someone ready to go that no one else knew about.

“OK, I’m off to work, so Bridget, will you and Warren stay here for a while? I don’t know when I’ll be back. Leave me the bed closest to the door?” She sounded happy enough about it, since there were two beds that would mean that she’d probably end up with Warren in with her, but that was fine.

“Wait, you didn’t mention me, does that mean you want me to go or not? Are you afraid the rooms bugged again? Oh!”

Something made Marcia’s right hand move on its own, she was just about to shake the spasm out when the invisible girl spoke again.

“Squeeze code, once for yes, twice for no. That way no one can hear us and probably wouldn’t catch on even if they saw it on film. Do you want me to go with you?”

She tightened her hand once, lightly.

“OK. Um, do I need to bring a gun for this? Brian packed one for me, just in case. I can kind of shoot it even. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be in a gun battle, but if it comes to it, I can hit someone from a few feet away.” She laughed gently as she said the words, but that stopped when Marcia squeezed her hand to signal yes again.

“Oh? Um, OK. I’ll get it then, give me a second here.” It took longer than a second, and Marcia made small talk with the other two, who were settling in to bed already, Bridget was in hers, but Penny didn’t mention it as being a problem, so she decided to ignore it for now. For all she knew that was what turned the girl on. She might not even know that the man was strictly gay, not bi or anything. Come to that, Marcia didn’t really know it either. It didn’t really matter, not in the moment.

“Got it. Am I supposed to watch for anyone in particular, or… Oh, right, um, right hand…”

The answer was yes, but by playing twenty questions Marcia felt they got to a relatively good understanding of what was needed for the operation. Penny would hang back and watch for anyone that seemed to be paying too much attention to her or the people she was with. If they started shooting, she was supposed to stop them. Preferably alive. It was hard to question dead people after all. That part was hard to convey, but the girl wasn’t a hardened killer Marcia didn’t think. Not that the concept had ever come up in conversation. She was a thief though, and a good one.

The only fight Marcia had even noticed her being in had ended with Denis being laid out on the floor, unconscious. The woman had hit him with a chair. That indicated she was willing to take action, at least in an emergency.

They separated a bit, just in case someone started shooting at her as she entered the Blue Boat, which was populated with more people than she would have expected the night before the convention was to start. Some of the people were a bit too pretty for real life, being television personalities and hookers most likely. The rest were mainly dressed up as tourist and businessmen. She grabbed a corner table by the far wall so she could see both the front door, which was made of glass and the solid wooden one that led to the back room. The employees looked right for the job, but that could just mean that the operatives in place were well trained, so she made a point to keep an eye on them too. There were at least two people, both men, that were giving her way too much attention for comfort.

One of them just seemed drunk and interested in some company, but not drunk enough to come over and ask if she was game. Not yet at least. The other was nursing a drink of colored liquid that all the ice had melted out of. It took a solid effort not to stare back at him. It wasn’t that he was all that obvious, but he kept looking at her using his peripheral vision. No one did that in a bar. They just looked at you if they wanted too, or avoided you, if they thought it might start a fight if they stared. He was keeping tabs of her and that was odd. So definitely watching for someone.

At eleven-forty Burke came in, dressed in a light pink shirt that had short sleeves and a pair of comfortable looking cream shorts. The look screamed tourist, except for the high and tight haircut which spoke of being ex-military. He’d been a Green Beret, first, then in Delta Force before switching jobs to work with the IPB. Most of their agents, the non-Infected ones, had something similar going on. Not all of them were ex-military, but all of them were insanely tough for regular people. They had to be to do the job. That and exceptionally stable mentally.

He looked past her a bit too obviously, since even dressed down she normally got a few looks from men in public situations. It wasn’t a conscious thing and he didn’t do too badly, just taking a position at the far end of the bar where he could keep an eye on her, a gun holster peeking out from under the loose edge of the shirt as he climbed up on the stool. It was a bit of a giveaway.

She ordered another drink, a Pina-collada, even though she couldn’t taste it. It also wouldn’t get her drunk, no matter how many of them she slammed down. It was a bar though and that meant drinking something. Besides, it had calories, so she could count it toward her daily minimum. Being a woman and not trying to look like a chronic alcoholic that evening, it meant having something frothy with a little umbrella in it. Hers was bright red.

Six minutes later, almost as if timed, Lancaster and Reyes came in and looked around too carefully while standing in the doorway. It was important to be observant, but they were treating the whole thing like a combat mission, scouring the place for snipers, bombs and enemies. They needed to be looking for watchers. She’d still only made the one herself, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Anyone could be an enemy in a situation like this and forgetting that would be a mistake. After they looked at her twice she waved them over. There was no real reason for them not to, since the meeting was for all of them. It wasn’t like spreading out would really keep them safer, not in a space that small.

A single bomb and they’d all be dead no matter where they were in the room.

Well, not her, but she actually cared about her friends, so it wouldn’t be wonderful for her to walk out wearing them. Having the man she didn’t know watching from the bar was kind of reassuring that way. Very few organizations put personnel in place to be blown up on purpose. It could happen, but the guy was trying to be a pro, if he wasn’t one in truth. That meant he wasn’t going to just try and play suicide bomber. She hoped so at least. Of course that had happened to her already that year, someone willing to blow themselves up for a chance to kill those around her. At the base even. Twice. She wasn’t going to ignore that, even if the man did seem better trained than the wacko anti-Infected bigots that had tried before.

Lancaster just walked over, but Reyes looked pissed and kind of stalked.

“So much for keeping a low profile.” He growled the words at her, which got him raised eyebrows in return.

“Um, Reyes? We’re supposed to be meeting someone we all know. It’s not exactly like we can hide in here. Just go ahead and sit and relax a bit. This isn’t some huge spy mission. If it was we wouldn’t be meeting in the bar of the same hotel we’re staying in.” She grinned and took a sip of her drink through the bright red straw, an oversized thing meant to get her drunk fast.

The man sat, still looking tense and grumpy. He was normally about the nicest agent the IPB had, so it was pretty obvious he wasn’t please about being there. He sat across the table from her, probably to allow maximum glaring, which got Lancaster to move in alongside her. The big man wrapped his left arm around her and squeezed gently, pulling her into him. It was nice and sold the idea they were all just meeting for a friendly drink a lot better than the stalking and gloominess of the other man. He even smiled. It was fake, but a professional kind of thing to cover the fact that he was probably nervous too.

He whispered into her hair, pretending to kiss her on the cheek, “Any sign of Morris yet?”

She turned into him and made a move to kiss him back, actually touching his flesh with her lips to sell the role. After all, the guy was a hunk, good looking even at forty-six, so she might as well take advantage of the situation. Marcia whispered back gently.

“Watcher at the bar, maybe others. No Morris yet.” It was all she had really so she just waited and watched, trying to smile as the others ordered. Lancaster getting Whisky, Reyes a soda water. The man didn’t drink at all, so it made sense for him not to at the moment. Morris might just remember something like that. Little details could give things away after all. Of course, they weren’t trying to trick the man, so acting like themselves wasn’t out of the question, was it? Even having Burke and Penny in the place wasn’t out of what would be normal. Morris liked her well enough, she thought, but he also thought she was a paranoid. That wasn’t too far off, so it probably wouldn’t set off any alarms or anything. Plus she had a strange feeling that no one else realized Penny was there at all. Not even Lancaster, which was saying something.

After all, if Penny had a partner at the IPB, it was him. Marcia would have thought the man would have asked Penny in on the whole thing. For that matter they should have set Christian up too and maybe get Mark to stand outside and check on them if anything started to happen. Not asking them was kind of foolish, she realized in hindsight.

At mid-night exactly, almost as if the event was timed, he walked through the door of the Blue Boat, wearing a Cuban style shirt that was light blue and white baggy pants that would let him hide any weapons he might have. At first she didn’t recognize him at all. He looked horrible. Fat for one thing. Not just a few pounds gained over the decades like most people did, but a good hundred and twenty over the last time she’d seen him. He clearly hadn’t shaved for a week or more either, even though it couldn’t be comfortable for him in the heat and moisture that Miami seemed to hold this time of year.

He didn’t act surprised to see them and didn’t scan the room half as carefully as the others had at all, walking over to them with a small wave. He settled carefully, but had a tired air to his movements, like exhaustion wasn’t far away. It could happen on missions when you were going it alone or with a small crew. You had to sleep to keep sharp, but being unconscious for hours at a time meant you might miss something too. Normally people used drugs to make up the difference, but if Cal was on speed it wasn’t working anymore.

He signaled to the waitress, a fairly average looking woman of about twenty-something and change, who was wearing a tight shirt, most likely hoping it would increase her tips. It probably worked too, from the way the drunk guy at the bar kept trying to feel her up when they spoke.

“Beer please sweetie? Whatever’s on tap.” The man looked to his right, at Reyes and gave a nod.

“Hoover, thanks for arranging this. The whole thing is… I’m over my head here people. This is way the fuck out of my league and you all know how I hate to admit crap like that.” He gasped for breath, sweating harder than seemed warranted by a friendly meeting of old war buddies and finally looked around as if he wasn’t sure it was safe to speak.

It could mean a lot of things from major health problems to having run to get to the meeting on time. It could also be situational stress. She started to go on alert, which Reyes missed, but Lancaster caught instantly. Then, they worked together more often than not anymore.

The fat guy huffed for a bit then stopped talking as the waitress brought his drink, sucking down half of the large mug before setting it down, not even acknowledging the woman that handed it to him.

“So, Weathers, Harpo and Mic are missing. I don’t know why, but they’re totally dark. I got a single hit on their credit cards; a friend looked for me, each from three days ago each in or more exactly around the edges of Miami. Each one for nine dollars and eleven cents. Then they went silent again. That and the fact that since I’ve been here, I’ve been being watched constantly is really all I have. I know, it’s probably over the top to get you all here just for that, but I don’t know enough to know what’s really needed at all. Weathers wife is really worried and Harpo’s girl, his daughter, is freaked. He wasn’t set up to go anywhere at all. Mic is a loner, but, well, you get the idea.” He stopped talking and knocked back about half the remainder in his mug. It was impressive drinking, but a bit too fast to be a casual thing. It had the feeling of a person that drank a lot, regularly.

Lancaster stared at the man, not blinking for a long while, with and expression that was so blank it had to freak the other man out just a bit. It always did Marcia when it got turned on her at least.

“We can run a search for them, using some advanced techniques, and go to the locations of their last credit purchases, but other than that, I’m not sure what we can do that you haven’t. We aren’t in intelligence anymore. Not directly. Even if we were, if those guys don’t want to be found they won’t be, none of us would. Making those purchases seems like they have enough freedom to escape most likely, if they wanted too. Most captors wouldn’t let people out to buy things in stores or wherever. Not former special forces like those guys. Plus the purchases sound like part of a plan. Something organized by a group.” He threw back a tiny sip of whisky to emphasize his point.