Thirst No. 4 (21 page)

I’ve been in IIC’s main building before. It’s four stories of bulletproof glass, and was designed by an architect who was so in love with the primal shapes—cubes, spheres, pyramids and such—that he couldn’t help but combine them all into his design. Surprisingly, the structure is pleasant to look at, nestled as it is in a wide patch of green almost two miles back in the brown hills.

I don’t bother to knock but walk in like I own the place. The same young woman sits at the reception desk: the secretary who insisted I use the company’s bandages to stop my fingers from bleeding. The woman flashes a bright smile, and I doubt she was in on the plot to collect my blood.

“You were here a few months ago. I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Alisa Perne. You are?”

“Janice Walker. How can I help you this morning?”

“I’m here to see Cynthia Brutran.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Just tell her I’m here.”

“I will. But I must warn you that you might have to wait. Ms. Brutran’s in the middle of an important meeting.”

I smile but my eyes add an extra punch to my next remark. “Then be sure to add that I don’t want to be kept waiting.”

Turning, I walk toward the seats. As I do so, I reach in my pocket and remove a glass vial filled with a clear liquid and pop the cork. I allow the fluid to spill across the tile floor. The amount is so small and I leak it so quickly I doubt the receptionist notices. I hear her on the phone. It’s good to have my hypnotic powers back. She fights to make sure Brutran gets my message.

I’m sitting for perhaps five minutes when Brutran’s handsome male secretary exits a nearby elevator. He glances at me uneasily, he knows I’m dangerous. He has a high-tech metal detector in his hand.

“Ms. Perne. Ms. Brutran would be happy to see you now.”

I stand and walk toward him. “Thank you. Fourth floor?”

“Yes. I’ll take you up. But first let me apologize for a new security measure we have instigated. I have to scan you for any metal you may be carrying.”

I casually raise my arms, for I am not armed. Not with a gun.

“Scan away,” I say.

Minutes later I’m led into Brutran’s corner office on the
top floor. The woman doesn’t stand to greet me but remains seated behind what she probably considers legitimate shelter, her beautiful walnut desk, which she keeps crowded with computer screens. She wears a charcoal blouse, an elegant gray pantsuit, and a bright string of pearls. Like before, she’d appear to be thirty at a glance, perhaps six years older with a closer look. Yet I know she’s at least sixty years old and has a daughter that’s five.

With my left hand in my pocket, I remove the top from another vial and allow the liquid to seep into my pants. Since that particular leg is turned away from Brutran, I’m not worried she sees it. Besides, I have on black, and it’s difficult to see a water stain on my favorite color.

Not that the liquid is water.

Brutran forces a smile. “Alisa. What an unexpected surprise.”

“A pleasant one, I hope.”

“Of course. Except for your bad habit of not calling ahead of time. Like a normal person.”

“I apologize. I was in the neighborhood. I thought I’d stop by so we could catch up.”

“I heard through the grapevine you’ve been traveling since we last spoke. London, Arosa, Colorado—you’ve had quite the summer. Did you have fun at the Olympics?”

“That was the most enjoyable part of the trip.”

“I can imagine. I watched the night your friend ran the
fifteen-hundred-meter. It was an exciting race. The experts were all surprised when Teri won the gold medal.”

I’m careful to keep my voice steady. “Teri’s a gifted athlete.”

“I’m sure she is. And she had you there to cheer for her. She’s a lucky girl.”

“How was your summer?” I ask.

“Busy. I was hoping to get away but there’s too much happening here that requires my attention.”

“I can imagine. You’ve got Wall Street on one side and the Telar on the other side.”

“The Telar are an old annoyance of no consequence.”

“I agree with the old part. But you have to admit they’re your most lethal enemy.”

Brutran’s face quickly hardens. “Are you sure this is the time and place to rehash such matters?” she asks.

During my last visit, Brutran had indicated that our conversation was being monitored. At the same time, she had hinted that I was in danger just by being in the building. Before, I took her warning seriously and quickly excused myself.

Today, Brutran is trying to give me the same warning. But unknown to her or her associates, it’s already too late for me to leave. Nevertheless, I don’t completely ignore the heavy weapons that are pointed at me from the other side of the walls. Even with the building’s extensive soundproofing, I can hear the clips being loaded, the laser sightings being aligned, the
fingers sweating over the triggers. Plus the hushed whispers, all asking the same question:

Why is she here?

“I’m afraid we have to talk,” I say. “You already know I was in Switzerland. You must know I had a run-in with the Telar. But what you don’t know is what happened when we met.”

Brutran sighs. “We have a general idea. We know they took you prisoner and that you managed to break free. With outside assistance.”

So they know about Matt. I assumed they did but now I am sure. They must be watching him closely to have a sample of his blood and be able to aim their Cradle at his brain.

“But you don’t know what the Telar and I discussed,” I say.

Brutran glances at a computer screen that’s turned away from me. Someone is sending her a message. “All right, Alisa. Tell me your secrets, I’m listening.”

I smile faintly. “Surely you don’t expect me to reveal everything I know. At least not until we’ve come to an understanding.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The last time we spoke you offered me a job. You wanted me to work for you.” I pause. “Well, I’m here to accept your offer. On certain conditions.”

Brutran holds up a hand to stop me. “That offer was time sensitive. I made it in good faith and you spurned me. I can no longer see us working together. I’ll go so far as to say that there
are many people in this firm who see you as a liability.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Take it as you wish.” Again, Brutran glances at the screen. “But we’d still like to hear about your conversations with the Telar.”

“You want intel.”

Brutran scratches her right hand. “Yes.”

“But you don’t want to pay for it. That hardly seems fair.”

Brutran is brisk. “What if I told you that your compensation will be your life. We’ll let you walk out of here in one piece.”

I shake my head. “Cindy, Cindy, I’m disappointed in you and your people. Do you honestly think you can use brute force against me and live to talk about it?”

“Yes,” she says flatly but with confidence.

My smile grows. “Then maybe I should rephrase my question. Do you think I was stupid enough to come here unarmed?”

Brutran considers. The armed people behind her do as well. They send her messages on her screen but I get the impression they’re not sure what to do next. Brutran scratches both her hands before answering.

“You were scanned downstairs. We know you’re unarmed.”

“You scanned for metal. You forgot to search my luggage.”

“You’re not carrying any luggage.”

“It’s small, pocket-size.”

Brutran acts bored. “If you have some type of plastic explosive on you, what good will it do? At best you’d kill us both and nothing will be accomplished.”

“I’m not carrying plastic explosives.”

“Then how are you armed?”

“With the most deadly weapon this world has ever seen.”

“Drama hardly suits you, Alisa. Answer my question.”

“X6X6. Have you heard about it?”

Brutran hesitates, glances at her screen. “Is that the name of the virus the Telar are working on?”

“Yes. I brought some with me.”

For a moment she loses her cool. “Into this building?”

“Yes.”

“You have a lot of nerve.”

“Thank you. I wanted you to be totally clear about the danger this virus represents. To your organization, to the world. You may not know this, but the Telar plan to release it soon.”

“How soon?” Brutran scratches her hands vigorously. They’re itchy, they’re bothering her, but she’s too focused on me to notice.

I give my best guess.

“Within two weeks, maybe sooner. If you and I can’t come to an understanding, then you’ll need to get your top chemists, biologists, and microbiologists together under one roof and start working on a vaccine.”

“How do you know we don’t already have a vaccine?”

“Because of the look of horror on your face when I told you I’d brought the virus into this building.”

Brutran stands. “Enough. You’ve worn out your welcome. Either turn over your samples of the virus to me right now or a dozen men with high-powered weapons are going to burst through that door. You are fast but not that fast. At least one of them will put a bullet in your brain. Then we will take the virus from you at our leisure.”

Keeping my hand in my pocket, turning my back to her, I stand and casually walk to the window. I stare out at the beautiful coast and wonder if Umara is still waiting down the hill.

“You can try that,” I say. “But I must warn you I’ve brought only one vial of the vaccine and right now I have my hand wrapped around it, along with a vial of sulfuric acid, which will neutralize it upon contact.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m afraid not. You must have noticed your hands are itching. You can’t stop scratching. That’s the first sign of the infection. In the next few minutes black blisters will form on your skin. Dizziness and weakness will follow. The X6X6 virus is highly contagious, and since I released it the moment I got here, it has spread to every floor in this building—the upper floors and the ten underground levels. You can try sealing your ventilation ducts but it’s already too late. I strongly suggest that you stop anyone from exiting or entering this building. You’re not ready for what will happen if this virus should escape into the city.”

Brutran stares down at her hands.
“Damn,”
she whispers.

A dozen men in special-ops gear burst into the room. At their head, wearing a blue suit and red tie, is Thomas Brutran. I recognize him from a photo Freddy showed me. He walks toward his wife, although his eyes never leave me. A handsome man with brown hair and dark eyes, he reminds me of the perfect political candidate, by which I mean his good looks only run skin-deep. He doesn’t have to speak for me to know there’s something awfully bland about the guy.

Standing beside Cindy, he glares at me.

“You had no right to bring that disease into our building,” he says.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would have been impressed.”

“Impressed? Are you insane?”

“I assumed that an organization that prides itself on using psychic tools to rape the minds of men and women would be impressed at the sheer boldness of my attack.” I stop and grin. “You have to admit it does show a certain flair.”

Thomas, good old Tom, struggles to find the right words.

“You heard my wife. Turn over your samples of the virus or die.”

“We don’t need the virus now!” Cindy snaps. “We need the vaccine!”

“Here it is.” I take the vial containing the blue-colored vaccine and hold it up in the same hand as the vial containing the sulfuric acid. “I’ll be happy to give each and every person
who’s infected with the virus a shot . . . if we can come to an agreement.”

“We’ll not be blackmailed,” Tom swears.

I smile. “Without the vaccine, your skin is going to turn black pretty soon.”

Tom turns to his men. “Prepare to open fire. We’ll give her three seconds to surrender. One . . .”

I address his soldiers. “Men! Listen to me! If you shoot me, the vaccine will be destroyed. And twenty minutes from now you’ll be in the throes of an agonizing death.”

“Two,” Tom continues.

“Stop it, Tom!” Cindy cries. “She’s standing beside the window on purpose. If we open fire, she’ll leap outside, and we’ll lose the vaccine.”

“Very perceptive, Cindy,” I say.

“She’ll be riddled with bullets,” Tom says.

“No. She’s fast. She’ll escape,” Cindy says.

“There’s no way she can break that glass,” Tom protests.

“Want to watch me try?” I ask.

Cindy turns to the men. “All of you, leave!”

“We can’t let her dictate terms to us,” Tom yells.

Cindy ignores her husband and shouts again at the men. “Now!”

“Leave your rifles!” I say. “You can see the blisters forming on your hands. I’ve memorized each of your faces. Leave them or I won’t give you a shot of the vaccine.”

The men look at each other, bewildered, afraid. Itchy blisters are worth a thousand threats. They set down their guns and leave the room. Cindy steps toward me.

“Do we really have only twenty minutes?” she asks.

“Yes,” I lie. I’m not sure how long the virus takes to kill but I know it takes at least a few hours.

“Then you must start injecting us with the vaccine now.”

“There’s time. I can move fast when I’m in a hurry, even when I’m playing nurse. I know you have a medical clinic here, five floors beneath the surface. I assume it’s well stocked with syringes. If you’re still worried about the time, you can send Tom to organize your people into a line outside the clinic door. I’ll be down shortly.”

“Will the vaccine give us total immunity to the virus?” Cindy asks.

“Not this version. It’s a weak form of the true vaccine. It will stop the spread of the infection and relieve the majority of your symptoms for a twenty-four-hour period.”

“Then what?” Tom asks.

“Then you’ll need another shot. From me.”

Shaking his head, Tom pleads with his wife. “Don’t you see, we’ll be at her mercy.”

Cindy struggles to be patient. “All I see right now are black blisters forming on my hands. Go, organize our people, try to keep them calm. Alisa and I will talk.”