The Infected 3: Cast Iron (25 page)

Instead she just shrugged.

“Um, well, after the cake thing I think. So about eight? That’s… what two hours?”

“Got it. I’ll tell the others.” Brian didn’t stop looking at the other man, so it was well into psycho glare territory. Intimidating. The other man didn’t respond though, or even act like he noticed.

He just waited. So did Brian, clearly getting that something was wrong. Finally he nodded and looked a bit to the right, his eyes losing focus. Listening to something she couldn’t hear. The girl in his head? Karen’s little sister, Becky. After a bit he looked down and shook his head, grinning.

“Sorry, going all combat vet on you both there, with the thousand meter gaze and all that. Is your friend coming on the picnic with us? We’ll need to let Tobin know, so he can get more food ready.” Blinking he smiled in a way that seemed genuine and relaxed suddenly.

Weird.

It was like the tide had changed while she wasn’t looking or something. Half a minute before Proxy looked ready to kill the man, now he was inviting him to dinner? Wilson would say no of course. It would be insane not to, not to mention potentially endangering his mission.

“That sounds like fun. Marcia was just telling me about all of you. You’re Brian, right?”

“Yeah. Brian Yi. Nice to meet you.” He actually put his hand out to shake like a grown-up and everything.

“Larry Wilson. Not my real name of course. CIA. You get the idea. Trying to recruit your girlfriend here for some work. Try and work on her for me? It’s important. I know, sounds crazy, but I can’t really tell you anymore about it. Then I’d have to kill you and all that. You look kind of tough though, so I’d rather avoid trying, if it’s all the same.” He chuckled when he said it. It sounded real again.

Brian just nodded.

“Great, so you’ll come? Everyone’s coming. Mostly IPB, but it can’t hurt to make some new connections there. Some really talented people will be around. Worth meeting, even if your agency isn’t into hiring Infected people officially. A lot can be done unofficially and it’s about time we started looking into those kinds of options. Same goes the other way of course, in case you ever need a reference for a job or something.” It was said playfully, but had a serious undertone somehow.

“I’ll be there. Eight O’clock on the beach you said?” He looked at Marcia when he asked.

“Why not. If you want booze, bring your own.”

That got a laugh as the man walked away, smiling as he did. Before she could ask Brian what the hell he’d been thinking he stopped and put a finger to his lips. Then he leaned in, as if trying to kiss her cheek.

“We need to have him followed. Someone is going to try and kill him. I think at least. Dharma said it was going to happen, in the next hour or so. I… I don’t know, can you handle that? It shouldn’t be you personally. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know.” He stood watching the door that Wilson had left through.

“It’s pretty important.”

“OK. Um… well, we need to act fast then. Let’s see…” She didn’t raise her voice, just speaking as if the other people where in the room with her. They could hear her, most likely, even if she couldn’t hear them.

“Peggy, take a walk with Lauren on the perimeter. We may have a shooter incoming or already here. Bridget, get in touch with Penny. She needs to be armed and shadow the same man she did last night. He’s dressed in green top and tan shorts. Straw hat with a loud hat band. She’ll know the one. Ink, if you could stand ready to take over for Bridget? You’ll need to cover back here too. She’s Cooper’s back-up if it comes to it. She’s the fastest of us here. Otherwise hold your position Bridgie. We don’t know if someone is going to try for us in here or not. If something happens I want everyone to hold this position and be ready to move if needed.” It wasn’t perfect, not by a vast way, since it left the back door unguarded when she left, which would happen if anything went down, but it was better than nothing. Brian looked satisfied with it at least.

A few seconds later Charlot ran into the back area, slightly breathless.

“Everyone is moving into position? I don’t know what this is about. Do we need to turn the cameras off?” That was her job, making them look good, so it was natural for her to think that way. Image first, everything else a distance second. It was important though, since the IPB couldn’t take a lot more bad press.

“I don’t think so. Brian located someone in danger.”

Charlot suddenly looked freaked, but took in his gear and clothing, his uniform as it was, and nodded.

“We were assured you wouldn’t have to fight anyone, or at least that you wouldn’t transfer out for nearly two weeks. I… What do we do? We didn’t bring a doctor with us. Can we get you to a hospital in time, just in case?” She closed with him, hugging him protectively, managing to not even seem angry about it. Then, she genuinely liked the man. He’d consistently been there for her and her family, even when no one else was, so what wasn’t to like? Marcia didn’t even have to think about everything that went into it. The woman loved him.

Plus he almost totally ignored it when Charlot seemed angry.

“First you stop worrying about me, because I’m not going anywhere. I don’t even have to fight, I don’t think. I was worried about that, but it seems OK now. Second, we leave this to the pro’s I guess. I’m a little worried about Penny, but… I can’t protect her anymore. I mean, not that I ever really did, but it’s… I think this is something important for her. Big. Not good, but… I don’t know. It’s confusing.”

Then they waited. Brian went to talk to Tobin, to get the extra food ready and Charlot went to check in with her daughter. Marcia was still stuck watching the back door, which she wasn’t going to leave unguarded before she had too. That would be foolish. She had to trust her team, and she really did, she realized. Some of them were a little new to her, but they were all good people. Maybe some of the best in the world.

That just left being worried for them. That was part of being in charge though, at least at the IPB. The military too and probably anything at all similar. If she made a mistake in her assignments, people might die. She didn’t know what was coming at all and didn’t have any way to prepare her team for it. So instead she stood and looked at the large brown double doors of the convention room space and scuffed her feet on the tight brown carpet, wishing she had her work clothes on still.

The only excitement she got was when a man in a red t-shirt that said “Cake Kings” on it tried to come in with a suspicious lump under the back of his shirt by his waistband. He looked so guilty she nearly slapped him. It was just an automatic response, which she thankfully stopped. He was about twenty and had that little kid look that people under thirty just didn’t notice and everyone over couldn’t help but see. He also looked like a bit of a smart ass. So probably that other shows version of Denis. Without the super-powers or attempt to fix himself yet. He was cute, in a babyish way.

“So, what’s that there then? A box of cockroaches or something?” She was too worried to sound bored.

“What? I don’t have anything. What do you mean?” He tried to look innocent, and it just didn’t work. Instead of arguing about it, Marcia just turned him around by the shoulders and held him by the back of the neck with her right hand while she looked for herself.

“Um…” She said, not getting it at first. It was just a tiny jar that said it was brown colored paste style food dye. It looked brown. Maybe it had something else in it? Poison… or feces maybe? She didn’t bother trying to open it to see, since she couldn’t smell it anyway. Instead she took the man prisoner. That was fair, right? It could be a terrorism attempt.

Marcia held the jar carefully, in case it was an explosive, but didn’t really think it was. The kid was pretty obviously just trying to be playful. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been sent in by someone else with a real weapon, but it did mean that crippling him was probably out of bounds. So she called for Bridget to send some help. That got her…

Karen and Charlot.

Well, why not? They both had powers and had been IPB operatives at one time. Karen still was. Charlot had retired and both had been on Team one, so hadn’t fought much, but this was a cooking show thing, most likely. If not, she’d deal with it herself.

“What do we have here?” Charlot sounded sinister when she spoke. A tone that the years had taught Marcia to associate with the woman not being ticked off at all. She just sounded that way.

“Another sabotage attempt? If it isn’t Carlos from Cake Kings again. You’d think he’d have learned when a little girl totally owned him earlier. Well, nothing for it, we’ll have to make him pay. What do you suggest Marcia? Castration? Hanging? Smearing him with frosting and sending him back in his underwear?” She closed on the man who actually squealed like a little girl.

“Oh come on! I was ordered to do this. It was all Ginger Harris, our producer. Don’t take it out on me.” He sounded totally unconcerned by the prospect of anything threatened, which probably meant he didn’t really understand the situation.

Marcia shook her head.

“No. Until we get what he was carrying checked out, he’s under arrest. If that’s anything other than what the container says, I suggest you tell us right now. This is either a prank, which we can tolerate, I suppose, or it’s something much worse. Too many people have tried to kill us all in the last few months to just let that go. Carlos… That name sounds familiar in regards to terrorism, doesn’t it?” It was very familiar, of course, since Carlos the Jackal was a famous terrorist in the late seventies and early eighties. He’d never been caught, but since that was from before this kid had been born it probably wasn’t him. Unless he could time travel and this was really just the start of his early career, the other things in the past coming later for him.

It was a scary thought.

Not a real one though. Not based on the information she had. They were in the middle of a real situation though, and for all she knew, this man could be part of that as a player or pawn. She needed to get things checked out and in a way that wouldn’t leave them in doubt.

“Is Chris back yet? I need him checked fast and can’t really afford to play with him. If he’s clean… Well, then pick either the frosting or the castration thing and make it happen. Otherwise we need to call in IPB local first and we won’t be going with frosting.” It was a plan.

One that made Charlot grin as Karen pulled the young man along with her. She didn’t have super strength, but she used to be an Olympic gymnast and had kept in shape. The kid moved with her. Of course he wasn’t exactly fighting either. The red head was cute. It was one of the reasons she was on Team one. Everyone on that team was pretty good looking. Most of the other women made her and Bridget look plain by comparison and Bridget was still growing and filling out. In a couple of years she’d probably look a lot like her grandmother, who was thought of as pretty darned hot by most of the guys.

Ten minutes later Carlos passed her, covered with a good caking of white frosting that had been rubbed into his hair and over his now bare shoulders and legs. He had on bikini briefs that were all black, but they weren’t thong or anything, so he’d probably live through the walk of shame well enough. She got the door for him, so he wouldn’t get anything on the doorknob. She had to touch it later after all, most likely.

She smiled.

“Tell… Ginger Harris was it?” She waited until he nodded.

“Tell her that Marcia Turner said that the next time this happened she better clear it with us first. We have some real things going on and if I have to retaliate myself it won’t be with something a mere shower can fix.” What that would be she didn’t know, but death came to mind. That was mainly because she was worried though.

“Right. Right. I’ll tell her, but really, I need this job. I have no other real skills, so you know, what am I supposed to do if I get sent back in again?” He seemed miserable enough that Marcia took pity on him.

Not much, but a tiny bit.

“Wear cuter underwear?” She gestured him out, his bare feet clean she realized, meaning he wasn’t leaving footprints.

As he passed he smiled at her, which probably worked on women most of the time, but at the moment looked pretty spotty, covered in white as he was.

“You want to see my cute underwear? OK, but maybe we should get a drink first?” He was trying to look alluring, which made her laugh, but not in a mean way.

“You’re really trying to pick me up while standing in a hall, covered in goop? That take some balls, I’ll grant you that.” She was about to send him on his way when the shooting started.

Four shots. From the sound she guessed something small, like a thirty-eight, for two of the shots, then one or two other weapons. A nine millimeter, which sounded farther away and muffled. Almost like it was silenced.

Marcia pushed Carlos back through the door and ran toward the sound, hoping she wasn’t too late.

7

It took about ten seconds of running at the fastest speed possible for the carpeted floor to reach the site of the shooting. Two men laid on the ground, covered in blood. The average looking man that had given his name as Larry Wilson had a weapon out, but it was a forty-five, not a nine millimeter. Sure, Marcia knew she could have been wrong as to the sound, but the thirty-eight she’d heard was in the hands of one of the downed forms. The other man didn’t have a weapon out, though there was a holster under the baggy shirt he wore.