The Monarch (34 page)

“Sophia, thank God. Is Natalie—­”

“She's with me. We're just waiting for a chance to get past the guards.”

“No, there's no time. I can't explain. You have to get her out.
Now
. I'm in the courtyard and—­” Jonathan abruptly hung up and stepped out from behind Emily, putting the phone away and taking out his guns.

Movement in the complex's doorway had caught his eye. Nathan rolled out, flanked by two guards. Jonathan heard Emily's breath catch when she saw him.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“I'm fine. I know you told me about the wheelchair, but seeing it . . . I just wasn't ready, I guess,” Emily said. Jonathan had felt the same way when he'd seen Nathan stroll in for their dinner, so he understood. He scanned the area behind the trio but couldn't see anyone back there.

“Hello again, Mr. Hall,” Nathan said. “Please put the guns on the ground at your feet.”

“Where's my daughter?” Jonathan said.

“Guns first, then we talk,” Nathan said. Jonathan thought he was being awfully calm for a man facing two automatic weapons. Then again, Nathan thought he had sharpshooters protecting him. Jonathan knew he could easily pop the two guards before they knew what was happening, but there was no need for that. Yet. He put the guns at his feet.

“That's better. Much more civilized,” Nathan said.

“Where is she?” Jonathan said, playing along with Nathan's charade, now that he knew Natalie was indeed with Sophia.

“Close by. Don't you worry,” Nathan said before he ordered one of his guards to take the cryocase from Emily. One approached while the other kept a gun pointed at them.

“Hang on,” Jonathan said, stepping in front of Emily. “Show me my daughter and then you can have the case.” If he didn't react properly, Nathan would smell a rat. Sophia and Natalie would lose vital minutes they needed to get to safety.

“The case first,” Nathan said. “I have to verify what you have. I'm not about to turn over all my cards when you could be bluffing.”

The guard stood almost nose to nose with Jonathan.

“Please,” Nathan said. When Jonathan didn't move, he said, “Shoot the woman.” The other guard swung his gun toward Emily.

“Wait!” Jonathan said as Emily let out a gasp. He eyed Nathan with all the contempt he could muster, fighting his instinct to grab the guard to use as a shield. Jonathan stepped out of the way and let the guard take the case from her.

The guard returned to Nathan's side.

“Very good, Mr. Hall. You're a smart man.”

“You've got your prize, now where's my daughter?”

“She's just inside. Go on in and get her,” Nathan said.

Jonathan and Emily took a step together but Nathan stopped them.

“Just you. Miss Denham will wait here with us.”

“Forget it,” Jonathan said.

“It's okay,” Emily said, stepping backward. “Go get your daughter, Jonathan. I'll wait here.”

Jonathan looked at her, shaking his head slightly. He had no time to explain that Nathan had no idea where his daughter was, and even if he did he wouldn't just hand her over like this. Heading across the courtyard would be a death march, but if he hesitated, they'd be dead anyway. With the rooftop guards incapacitated, maybe he could get into the complex before anyone else shot him and maybe these guards would leave Emily alone and chase him. A lot of maybes. But it was the only play.

Jonathan walked toward Nathan. He stepped past him and the guards, waiting for the crack of a rifle to tell him he was about to die. He was halfway to the door when he heard Nathan order the rooftop guards to shoot him. When nothing happened, he gave the order a second time.

“Shoot him. Now,” Nathan said, and Jonathan knew he wasn't talking to the rooftop guards anymore. He turned around and saw both guards on the ground bringing their guns to bear on him. They were too far away to rush and the complex was still too far behind him to make a run for it.

He'd failed. He was about to die, but that wasn't the worst of it. Emily would surely follow, and then they'd scour the complex and find Natalie. Jonathan wouldn't be surprised if Nathan had his own daughter shot in the process.

“I'm sorry,” Jonathan said, closing his eyes.

Two shots rang out. Jonathan braced for the impact but it never came. He opened his eyes and saw both guards lying dead beside Nathan. On the other side of the courtyard Thomas cocked a rifle, the spent shell shooting up over his shoulder to land with the first one on the jungle floor, ropes still hanging from his wrists.

“Get the girls,” Thomas said, pointing the rifle at Nathan. Jonathan held out his hand and Emily ran across the courtyard to him. “Hurry, mate. There's not much time left.”

He didn't need to tell Jonathan twice. They ran inside the complex, leaving Thomas holding a gun on his former employer.

T
HOMAS WATCHED
J
ONATHAN
and Emily disappear inside the complex. If they came out without Lara, he'd put a bullet in each of their brains without a second thought. He might even do the same if Lara was with them. And he was sure Lara would help him do it.

When they were gone, he kept the gun trained on Nathan, but he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with him. He knew this was not the man he'd met so many years ago, the man he'd served faithfully every moment since then, but it was still the same shell. And he still had the same manipulative skills. If Thomas wasn't careful he'd end up shooting himself before they came out.

“What are you doing, Thomas?” Nathan finally said.

“Shut up,” Thomas said, shifting his view from one side of the courtyard to the other, taking a few steps away from the man in the wheelchair.

“Do you really think she'll go with you? Do you think she'll come out and see you holding a rifle on her father and thank you for the act?”

“I'll make her understand,” Thomas said, cursing himself for responding.

“You're a bigger fool than I thought if you think a tryst can surpass a familial bond,” Nathan said, rolling sideways slightly in his wheelchair.

“Stay where you are!” Thomas said. He'd meant to just say it, but somehow it came out as a shout.

“Are you afraid of me? Afraid I'll magically launch out of this chair and overpower you?” Nathan said. And then a beat later, “Look at me.”

“What about Sophia's familial bond? Or have you killed her already?” Thomas said, ignoring the taunts.

“Look at me,” Nathan said again. Thomas gritted his teeth, knowing he was a fool to try and exchange barbs with him. Then despite every mental scream not to, he looked Nathan in the eye.

He wanted to pull the trigger. Pull it over and over again. He wanted to destroy this thing that had taken the place of the greatest man he'd ever known. Maybe the greatest man ever. But it would have been easier to shoot Lara. When you've been in a cage for so many years, you don't need bars to keep you incarcerated. The memories are enough.

“If you get in our way, we're all going to die. Even you,” Thomas said.

“We're all . . . what are you talking about?” Nathan asked.

As if on cue, a faint buzz drifted down from above. At first it seemed almost imaginary, like a mosquito that kept flying in and out of earshot. Then it gradually grew louder, until it sounded like a small plane. Thomas wanted to think it was just some tourist flight taking in the sights, but he knew better. He looked up at the brilliant, cloudless blue morning sky and edged sideways, trying to see the source of the sound. It took him a minute or two, Nathan forgotten, but finally he spotted it. High up in the heavens, flying a large circular pattern, it looped around and headed back. Just a shiny spot against the indigo of the sky until it finally turned out of profile and Thomas saw it in full frontal view.

“Fuck me,” Thomas said, a chill dancing across his skin. He took out the cell phone he'd taken from a guard to call Jonathan, but before he could dial his own cell phone's number, both the phone and the rifle fell from his hands, a searing pain in his back sucking the wind from his lungs and the strength from his muscles.

Thomas coughed blood, rivulets dripping down his chin. He looked down at Nathan, who was smiling. He spun around and came face-­to-­face with his attacker. It was Lara, but no Lara he'd ever seen before. She was dirty, slick, and her hair looked like a madwoman's. She looked up at him from beneath hooded, dark eyes smeared with ruined mascara. Her face completely blank of expression. No joy. No sorrow. Just slack.

“Per . . . Reaper,” Thomas said, each breath a gurgle of pain. Then he fell over facedown on the pavement, the knife he'd given Lara sticking out of his back.

7:15
A.M.

S
OPHIA CLIMBED OUT
of the access panel, a little confused by the phone call from Jonathan. It had lasted for only a minute, and for all she knew he'd had a gun to his head and it was a trick to get her to come out of hiding. But there was something in his voice.

“Where are we going? Where's my dad?” Natalie asked as they carefully made their way down the hall. Sophia ignored her questions. With her lab and personal living quarters no doubt guarded, they were heading to Lara's room for some supplies. It was a little risky, but she doubted Lara would be spending any time in her room right now. She used what little sulphuric acid she had left, burned through the lock, and took Natalie inside.

“Sit here. I just need to grab some things,” Sophia said, indicating Lara's bed.

“But my dad—­”

“He's close, honey. You'll see him soon.” Sophia grabbed a large backpack out of Lara's closet and filled it with a few articles of clothing and some supplies.

With the chopper out of the question, she'd come up with Plan B. When they were kids, Nathan would sometimes take Sophia and Lara camping on the island up in the mountains. She still loved camping, though now she rarely had time and usually went alone. Lara never went anymore, but as she'd hoped, her camping supplies were still in her closet. If it turned out Jonathan's call was a hoax, a few days in the jungle should be enough time for things to calm down. They could live for a few days off the fruit in the jungle and there was a freshwater stream. Then she could grab the chopper or use a radio to call for help. It was risky, but it was all she had.

“Who's this?” Natalie asked. Sophia looked up from her packing and saw Natalie holding a picture from Lara's nightstand. She stopped and sat on the bed next to Natalie.

“That's me and Lara when we were about your age,” Sophia said, her eyes far away. “I didn't think she still had this.”

“You both look happy. I didn't think she was ever happy,” Natalie said. Sophia knew she had spent only a few minutes with Lara when she was first brought to the island and put in her locked room, but somehow in that short time, Natalie had discerned Lara's everyday temperament. Sophia took the picture and held it, remembering when it was taken. It had been just before her mother had died.

“Lara used to be the funniest girl I knew. She'd play practical jokes on the guards that would drive Na—­ my father crazy. She was my best friend in the whole world,” Sophia said, the last barely above a whisper.

“What happened?”

“Not long after this picture was taken our mother died. Lara never got over it. She stopped laughing and joking and pretty soon she hardly talked anymore.” Sophia again wondered if her mother was truly dead, but she was starting to think that was just wishful thinking.

Then after a long, quiet pause Natalie said, “My mother died too.”

“I didn't know,” Sophia said. “I'm sorry, honey.”

“S'okay. Everything dies. I didn't smile for a long time either.”

Sophia looked away. Then instead of putting the picture back on the nightstand, she packed it with her other things. When the pack was full, she changed into a khaki blouse and hiking shorts. She tied a bandana around her forehead, laced up a pair of hiking boots, and tied a camping knife in its sheath around her thigh. Lastly she transferred the kuru serum research into the new knapsack.

Now they just had to get away from the complex.

They could go through the hangar, but then they'd have to take the elevator up to the second level. Still, she didn't want to risk going back into the tunnels. There could still be a few guards in there looking for them.

“When we get out of the elevator, I need you to be very quiet, okay?” Sophia said, pressing the button to summon the elevator. Natalie nodded. Somehow she knew what they were doing wasn't a game. Sophia reached out and gave her a one-­armed hug. “Good girl.”

The elevator door opened and when Sophia looked up, she was staring down the barrels of two guns.

7:20
A.M.

L
EW CHECKED HIS
watch as he ran down the tunnel, anxiety rising in his chest to match the pounding of machinery around him. He turned the corner, hoping to see the ladder leading up out of the maze he'd trapped himself in, but all he saw was more tunnel running parallel to several huge, thumping generators. He'd lost track of which level he was on but didn't really care. He just wanted out.

“Damn it!”

He took out his cell phone and tried again, but he still couldn't get any signal in the cinder-­block and pipe-­lined tomb, not that anyone could have heard him with all the noise, anyway. With little choice, he continued on, sweat pouring down his back from the sweltering heat.

“What the hell have you done to yourself now, Lew,” he said, rapidly losing hope of escaping the maze before the attack came. It didn't take a genius to know that whatever form the attack took, being down here when it happened was a bad idea.

Two more corner turns—­sure he must have traveled in a complete circle by now—­and he saw what he thought looked like the vent he'd used to enter this hell.