Doc Ford 19 - Chasing Midnight (24 page)

“Really?”
Odus sounded excited.

I replied, “I meant I’ll deliver your letters. If Armanie and Kazlov are still on the island, I’ll find them. If I get lucky, I’ll bring them back in person. You can’t ask for more than that. But there are a couple of conditions.”

Geness was already shaking his head as he used both hands to level the pistol at me. “No conditions.”

“Then why should I help you?” I asked, looking down at him over the barrel of the gun.

Geness moved his index finger to the trigger and tilted the pistol a few degrees to the left, maybe something he’d seen in a movie. “No conditions.”

I sensed that the quiet twin wanted to impress me. No, I
hoped
it was true because I was too scared to believe anything else. If so, I had crossed the boundary into Geness’s irrational world. No longer was I a piece of human furniture. I had been integrated into a plotline in his video fantasy as well as his biblical delusions. I couldn’t be certain, though. The crazy ones are easily misread.

“You know, if you really want to do this right, there’s a lot I can teach you and your brother, if you’re willing to listen. First thing is, your assets aren’t going to put their butts on the line unless you offer them something in return. There are always conditions, that’s part of the business. And there’s never a reason to waste an asset unless you profit in some way. Who knows what they will do for you down the road? Think it over. But if you decide to shoot, get it right the first time. That’s the second lesson.”

To make my point, I turned my back to the pistol and stood straight—a cleaner target.

I felt oddly calm. There is no predicting what sociopaths will do from minute to minute, but they are reliable narcissists when it comes to manipulating events in their delusional world—a world I’d just done my best to enter. The twins had a plan, and I was betting they wouldn’t spoil the game by killing their new playmate now. If I was wrong, it didn’t matter. They would kill me, anyway.

I waited for a tense several seconds before Geness finally said, “Abraham says he’s right.”

Odus pulled out one earbud, then the other. He was nodding and sounded a little breathless. “I know. He just told me the same thing. Or you’d shoot him. Abraham knows you would, too. But it would be dumb before we have all the caviar leeches on board.”

I was thinking,
Another boating metaphor,
as Odus asked me, “What conditions? We’re not giving you a gun, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I faced Geness. “I want at least one hour before you shoot those women or anyone else. Not even Tomlinson. That’s the first condition. And I need some equipment. Kahn took a thermal night vision unit I brought and I want it back. A flashlight, too. And my knife—you’ve got nothing to worry about with all your guns.”

I had used Tomlinson’s name as a final manipulative nudge because that’s who I wanted them to send with me.

Odus was still yapping, asking me about the thermal night vision unit, but then Geness silenced him by closing his eyes to confer with Abraham.

Odus said, “Oh,” as if apologizing. Then: “Ask him about that other thing, too.”

Other thing?
I wondered what he meant.

Geness stood for a full minute as we waited; a morning silence of wakeful birds, summer insects and the sounds of an old house as its foundation settles another microinch into the earth.

Finally, he nodded at his twin and said, “Tell him what our brother said.”

Odus was ready with the instructions, which was spooky. “Okay, here’s the deal. Screw the knife, you’re not getting it back. And not a whole hour. Thirty minutes: that’s what we’ll give you. Which means”—he glanced at his wrist—“which means we sacrifice the first one at quarter to two. One of the women. I’ll shoot her in the back of the—”

“The blonde,” Geness corrected.

“Yeah, the blonde. The woman who’s still sort of attractive, Ford seems to like her. Or the woman who’s probably a traitor, anyway.”

Sharon Farwell or Umeko, he meant.

“So, we kill your lady friend at one forty-five. The second, she’ll die at two. And if you’re not back here by two-thirty, we’ll shoot everyone we don’t need for our special party. Got it?
Everyone.
We want those caviar slavers here no later than two forty-five!”

I nodded, but it wasn’t until I replied, “Yes, I understand,” that Geness responded with disgusting hypocrisy by bowing his head. “We should pray now. Abraham has a special orison he would like to share.”

Orison?
I didn’t know what that meant and didn’t much care, as I endured another silence in which the fat man’s labored breathing weighted the air with his death, my own death and all things human and inevitable.

Geness spoke: “Open the door. We’ll cut Ford’s hands free later. He and his Judas friend are delivering the letters.”

I said,
“Tomlinson?”
as if surprised, but didn’t give it too much. Then closed the deal by saying, “I don’t care who you send with me, but I need to use a bathroom
right now
.”

As I turned to go, Talas caught my eye and acknowledged me with the slightest of nods. His expression read
Well played.

There was something else I saw in the fat man’s eyes for the first time: Darius Talas, the international black marketeer, was terrified.

W
hen Geness Neinabor escorted Tomlinson and me out the front doors of the fishing lodge, I thought he would stop and watch from the safety of the porch as we turned north into the summer darkness. Geness was delusional, a frightened adolescent who was trapped in the brain of a deranged man, and he was also a coward.

Wrong. Instead, he followed us into the shadows, staying thirty yards behind. Did he think we were going to jump aboard
No Más
and sail to safety?

Damn it.
It was more than a minor irritant because I hadn’t intended on turning north toward Armanie’s rental house. What I wanted to do was retrieve my jury-rigged weapons, then rush back to the lodge, somehow snatch that little backpack, then force an evacuation. There was no guarantee the explosive was in the bag, but it seemed likely considering the twins’ childlike quirks.

No, the window of opportunity was narrowing. Tomlinson and I had only thirty minutes—
supposedly
—before they shot Sharon. Why the Neinabors would execute a woman before vaporizing themselves
and everyone else required no explanation because they were insane. Yet, to me, the reasons were apparent: they wanted to savor the experience of killing and it was also a way to manipulate me.

I wasn’t going to allow them to do either. Evacuate the fishing lodge, that was still my objective. Tossing a couple of jars into the dining room might do the job. If I got lucky, the armed members of the group might be incapacitated long enough for Tomlinson and me to take their weapons.

It was a long shot but a possibility. Even if we didn’t disarm everyone, capturing one gun would be enough to secure the VIP cottage after we’d moved Umeko, Talas and the three women from Captiva safely inside. Possibly some of the island staff members, too, if they were willing to trust us. Dealing with Armanie and trying to find Kazlov could wait. Sunlight was the surest cure for nighttime panic.

My plan, though, was already coming apart. It couldn’t work. Not with one of the crazy Neinabors following us with a gun pointed at our backs. Come to think of it, maybe that was the point.

When Geness was still tailing us after a hundred yards, Tomlinson stopped, nudged me and whispered, “Please tell me you have some kind of plan.” Tomlinson, wearing a T-shirt and dress slacks now, sounded frantic.

It was only our second opportunity to exchange a word since he had told me that Kazlov had been shot but still managed to escape from the lodge. Now I shook my head and touched a finger to my lips. “Where’d you put the letters?”

Tomlinson touched the back of his pants. “Got ’em.”

“How drunk are you? Tell the truth.”

The man shook his head, meaning,
I’m not,
then looked to confirm that Geness had ducked into the shadows. “I had no idea they
had something like this planned. I don’t think Winifred and the others knew, either. You believe me, don’t you?”

I nodded because it was true, as I used the TAM to check behind us. Geness was hunched down, waiting, forty yards away.

“The only reason I told them about you was because I thought it might help. You know, keep you alive because you’re an expert, someone they’d respect. Those guys, they’re stuck in this weird video game Special Forces mind sphere. So I played into the whole superhero psyche thing. The vibe was right, plus I thought it was pretty smart.”

“I’m still thinking of ways to thank you,” I said, trying to shake blood into my fingertips.

We were on a shell walkway that transected the island north and south—the Pink Path, locals called it—and had stopped near a house that was shuttered tight for the summer. Silhouetted orchids clung to trees, their limbs interlacing overhead with vines and climbing cereus cacti, all punctuated by the white starbursts of night-blooming flowers.

Tomlinson whispered, “Hey—why not just talk to the little weirdo?” then cupped his hands around his mouth, ready to summon Neinabor. Before my pal got a word out, though, I grabbed him and pulled him close enough to say, “Maybe I don’t have your attention yet. I told you to be quiet.”

“But, Doc—”

“
Listen
to me. You’re good at a lot of things, but this is the sort of thing
I’m
good at. At least one person died tonight, thanks to your Internet chaos theory. Are you aware of that? Check your mood ring. Which is darker, your karma or your conscience?”

It was too harsh, I knew it, but I was mad, and so I turned to glance at Geness rather than watch Tomlinson sag under the weight of the bad news.

“Then Kahn wasn’t lying about Mr. Bohai?”

“Someone stuck a needle in his heart, but it wasn’t Kahn. Maybe one of the twins. I think they’re capable of anything. But it might be unrelated to what your new symbiotic brothers have going. And Kazlov’s bodyguard was shot, too. He’s probably dead, I’m not sure. Did you see where Kazlov was hit?”

Tomlinson whispered, “In the leg, he could still walk,” then made a groaning noise. “My God—I’m a menace to myself and everyone who knows me. I’d rather die than cause pain. Shit the bed,
hermano
, this really sucks.”

“Take it easy.” I grabbed one of Tomlinson’s bony shoulders, but it didn’t stop him from talking.

“Doc, if I’d met those twins before tonight, I swear to God, I would have known. I would have found a way to stop it. They’re both insane—I could
smell
the craziness before they walked into the room. But they do know their Bible, I’ll say that much for them.”

“Commendable,” I said. “Keep walking. Let’s see what he does.” I gave the man a push.

“You have a plan, right? Please tell me there’s something we can do to—”

“Close your hole, for starters. Get moving.”

I wanted to think, not talk. In the field, the first rule of engagement is:
Keep the plan simple, stupid.
But that rule is always trumped by the second rule:
Nothing EVER goes as planned.

Losers bitch about the unexpected, winners grab it by the throat. They improvise, they retool and then use the unforeseen like a club. Geness’s decision to follow us, I decided, might give me a chance to ambush him and take his weapon.

I gave Tomlinson another nudge, then passed him, walking fast toward Armanie’s end of the island. When I had rounded a bend, I
stopped, motioned for Tomlinson to keep going and adjusted the TAM-14 over my eye. Geness was still with us, but he, too, had stopped, which surprised me. I was hidden. How did he know?

I soon saw the answer. The twin had brought along the night vision scope that Trapper had been using. It meant the shadows were no longer useful as ambush cover. I’d have to find a better place to hide—bushes or a doorway or a ledge. More difficult but doable.

I had turned to catch up with Tomlinson when Geness surprised me by calling softly, “Ford?
Wait.
”

I turned to listen.

“There’s something you should know. Are you ready?”

What now? “Sure,” I said. “What is it?”

“Abraham changed his mind.”

I felt a physical, chemical chill that sparked down my spinal column.

I waited for several more seconds, aware that Geness wanted to enjoy my discomfort, before he said, “Abraham told Odus to shoot the blond woman if he hears a gunshot. He said you’d probably try something stupid and cause me to fire—like I almost did just now. I think I’m going to do that, shoot a round at the ground so he kills the woman. How would you like that?”

“No.
Wait.
” I had been crouched low. Now I stood, stepped up onto the path and walked in plain view toward the twin. As I got closer, I didn’t need night vision to see that Geness was behind a tree, aiming the pistol at me, so I shoved the thermal monocular into my waistband.

“Stop right there or I’ll pull the trigger—and it won’t be at the ground.”