The Terminals (25 page)

“We've been here before. You're going in,” the general said, and to Deeth he added: “She was prepared to go after the monk.”

“You need to find another atheist,” Deeth said, standing between the general and me.

Staring at the general with his oversized cross, realization flooded through me. I felt an elation I hadn't experienced for some years.

“Do we?” I asked.

Deeth turned to me, but I lifted my hand. I was so weak that my finger danced across the air like I painted with it, but I was trying to point at the general.

Chapter 39

My finger finally managed to
steady on the general.

“Before I went after Charlie, why did you say: I'll see you soon, I bet?” I asked. The general pushed out his lips, and his brow bent under a snarl. “You thought I was headed for oblivion. Isn't that right?” I squinted at him. “The same place you expect to go. That thing around your neck might as well be a ripped-off Audi hood ornament.”

“Is this true, General?” Deeth demanded. “Have you lost your faith?”

“No, it's not true.” He blustered and looked back into his office.

“Please take a seat, General.” Deeth motioned to the side of the bed and eagerly pulled the cuff off my arm to hold it out. “Take the test.”

The general stepped backward toward the office.

“Hold, General. As you are aware, I, too, am under orders from the president.”

And it fell into place. I couldn't imagine there not being a check and a balance to the kind of power wielded by the general. It was Deeth, a doctor,
and
an Army major, ordered to ensure it was done right.

The general reached behind his back and pulled a revolver. Its silver finish glowed in Purgatory's light.

“And my orders are to follow orders and to keep this unit a state secret,” the general said.

I further loosened the buckle that held my arm.

“I don't think manufacturing terminal diseases falls under that prerogative, General,” I challenged. “Or violating the dead.”

He had begun to wheeze at the end of each breath but still held an expression of smug superiority. “Without Attila, or someone like him, the lives of thousands of Americans are at risk. Our terminals want to serve their country, and we are dependent on one man.”

Deeth hadn't moved and stood between me and the gun. At this range, the .45 caliber bullets would shatter his ribs and heart.

“Are you really ready to retire, Doctor?” the general asked, and he pointed his gun to indicate the syringes. “I don't recall your being a particularly religious person. If you want to play the gentleman, go ahead and lie down in Christine's place.”

I managed the clasp and my arm popped free.

“This isn't about a mission, this is about killing me,” I said. “You shoot me when I'm not ready to die and Attila isn't here with his crystals, then I'm not going to help find any scientist. Much less tell you about the discovery.” The pages of the folder went flying as I tossed them from the bed. I wished that I hadn't taken the rat poison, so that I could stand up and choke the bastard to death.

“I disagree,” the general replied. “If you discover something that will help America, I believe there's enough Army in you that you'll still deliver.”

“Do I represent that much guilt to you?” I asked. “Do you regret telling me about how you shot my father? Or is this something else?” He looked at me and then his eyes flicked back to Deeth. “Something else then,” I answered for him.

“I won't murder her,” Deeth said. His arms were spread wide, and in each hand he held a syringe. “And you'll have to shoot me to reach her.” The contents of the needles emptied on to the floor.

At the crack of the gunshot I tumbled for cover. The general spun. It confused me, because blood bloomed not on me, nor Deeth, but along the side of the general's shoulder. His weapon clattered to the floor. A barrel passed the doorway. A quavering hand followed and I knew the source of the shadow. The tendons in Attila's forearm protruded with the effort.

“No one threatens my mother,” Attila said as he pointed the gun down at the general. Attila had heard everything.

The general fell to his knees and fumbled for the dropped weapon with his uninjured arm. Deeth dove for the general's gun. Too late, the general caught the grip. From my position on the opposite side of the bed, I had no choice but to try to stop him. With the adrenaline, energy surged within me and cleared my thoughts. I half stumbled, half toppled over him. His pistol discharged, and a great weight fell on me.

I lost a couple of seconds somewhere, but when I came to, Deeth had the general's neck bent in a full nelson.

The general sagged in Deeth's arms, blood dripping from his fingertips.

“Will you help me lift the general into the bed?” I looked over to Deeth, whose eyes widened. “It's time for the general to make this right.”

Deeth seemed to hesitate, but it was Attila that spoke up: “After Christine left, I made some phone calls.” He focused on the general but I was relieved to note that Angelica cringed behind him. “I called the Great Sun Insurance company and asked them about Siam's life insurance policy, why it hadn't been paid out. What the error had been. It turns out, there was no error. Never was an error. The company had paid when it received the death certificate. Six million dollars.”

Between the threats, Siam's insurance, and Angelica's presence, I had all the proof I needed to remove the general from his post.

The general jawed silently in protest as the doctor hauled him to the bed. He didn't resist Deeth or Attila as they lifted him from beneath his armpits and his feet.

While the general lay in the bed bleeding from his shoulder, I sat in a chair beside him, unable to stand. Despite the glassiness of the general's stare, I could see the seething hatred, and I saw the fear, like the fright of a little boy that doesn't know what to be scared of.

“You're so afraid to die,” I said.

His eyes lost their fear, erupting with rage. I strapped his arm, taking no enjoyment in it.

“Do you accept this mission?” I asked.

Attila bent and gathered the contents of the folder.

“Dying for a reason. It
is
a good reason to live,” I murmured at Attila's back.

Attila held the photo of the woman up to the general. He began to quake, lips bloodless. Attila looped the crystal doorknob about the general's neck.

The general spluttered as he tried to talk. “Life sucks …” His tongue was stuck and he rocked in the bed. “Then …”

I'm not sure I agreed anymore, except for the last bit, so I humored him. “Then you die. We all die.”

The general's eyes rolled to the new syringes Deeth prepared, and I could tell he wanted the drugs.

“What you feel is what you'll be,” Attila intoned. “What you know is what you'll see.”

And I really hoped the general thought more of himself than he seemed. Standing with his back against the glass, Angelica stared wide-eyed at the scene, itching at her arms.

The general was quaking, shaking his head, and flexing his hands. “No … no … mission.”

Deeth paused in his ministrations. He held a needle aloft, the tip glinting in the light.

“Fake scientist,” the general's voice strengthened. “The scientist is a fake.”

“You bastard,” I said. He had been about to kill me for nothing. First-degree murder, and he would have gotten away with it—no one knew where an atheist would go. “Then, why?” I screamed. “Why did you go to the trouble of saving me if only to murder me later?”

Within the general's ashen pallor, he seemed to flush. “I didn't want to …” he said. “Terminals is mine. I'm dying. I need an heir.”

My mouth opened but I couldn't utter a word. He had wanted me to lead the unit after he'd gone, but I'd refused. I had rejected him and refused to buy into his model of killing people who were not actually dying.

“I gave my life to my country. I didn't want to give up this. You—”

“Me.” I snorted.

“You were a daughter to me.” The strength fled him and he sagged.

And it all finally fell into place. He'd come to that desert field hospital not only to recruit me, but also to save my life. To bring me here and to make this a family business. And then I'd set about destroying his dream, and that he could not abide.

I shook my head. He may have thought of me as a daughter, but that was his fantasy, not mine. I gripped the general's arm and held it out prostrate for Deeth.

Deeth caught my look and shook his head.

I wanted the general dead. I wanted to take up the needles and finish the job, and again I was struck by how the general and I were not so different.

“No mission, no terminal,” Deeth said. “No one dies.”

It was a rare day in Purgatory.

Chapter 40

Rain splattered the umbrellas as
the honor guard made their procession through the grave markers of Arlington Cemetery. The U.S. flag hung over the coffin as a pall. Water dripped from the rims of caps. A riderless horse whinnied by the hearse that had transported the remains of Captain Kade Harmina.

An Islamic military chaplain smiled weakly at me when he caught my eye, but my lips were too taut for smiling. I wore dress whites. Besides a woman veiled in a
niqab
, and Attila on my right, the only other mourners were Arthur, Sundarshan, and Francis, who tottered in a line behind me, although they could hardly be called mourners by the way they were behaving. My guess was that Kade would have liked that, however, and had probably requested their presence for this very reason. My iPhone had been morbidly silent of her messages. I missed her.

The general was convalescing from the bullet and a heart attack—a six on the Richter scale, Deeth called it. I awaited word from Deeth's conversation with the president. I wanted Deeth to take over the unit. He wanted me to. It wasn't up to us.

The pallbearers brought the coffin and lowered it to the nylon straps that would finish the job of dropping the casket to its final resting place. A marker with the Islamic moon and star rested at the head of the grave. The marker beyond had the Star of David, one beyond that, a cross. I liked this place.

Attila steadied me when I wavered. Over the last twenty-four hours, I'd regained some energy, but remained well beneath fighting weight. The soldiers took up their positions and held their rifles at their feet. We all waited gravely for the chaplain to complete his impersonal prayers.

“So what now?” Attila asked as the chaplain shut his Qur'an and sprinkled dust on the coffin lid. The coffin itself was a sham, but one Kade had requested should any of her family attend. Cremation was generally forbidden under Islam.

With the supplication over, the soldiers raised their rifles to the gray sky.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Deeth said you lied during your test.” Attila arched his eyebrow, and I was more comfortable shifting my gaze back to the casket.

“About the afterlife?” I asked.

“About us.”

“I said we don't have a relationship.”

“You were lying.”

“Confused maybe.” His hand tightened at my bicep. “I'm sorry, Attila. I thought I'd been clear that the sex wasn't going to lead to anything more. ” He stared forward like the soldiers who aimed at the sky. “I did it because I thought I was about to die. Now I'm not. Not today, anyways. ” I paused, realizing that I spoke the truth. “I can't start a relationship. Not when the Terminals needs rebuilding.”

He released my arm, and I wobbled. The guns fired their first salute and white smoke drifted upward.

“What?” I asked, expecting a defense regarding
what we have being special
.

“You can't be thinking about keeping the operation going?”

Deeth had had the same reaction when I suggested we continue the Terminals, but Attila seemed angry as well as surprised. Deeth had added that I outranked him. He was a major; the decision was mine, which of course wasn't true. It was really both the president's and Attila's.

“The Terminals have done some good, too, Attila.”

“You can't order me to …”

The second volley sounded and a bugle began to play Taps; I looked for the bugler, but only saw a compact radio huddled under an umbrella. An OC-6 would have had a real bugler. I would have.

“I'm not ordering. No more ordering. Things will be different.” I wasn't sure I could keep that promise. I turned to him and placed my hand against his cheek. He didn't draw back, but I could feel his jaw muscles flex beneath my fingers. “But I'm asking.”

“Dying for a reason,” he whispered. “And all that.”

“And all that.”

“But not you,” he said, and I felt his eyes as I watched the smoke dissipate in the air. “You knew what Sonya Alphonso would say, didn't you.”

It was a statement.

“I knew.”

“No one's going to thank us, you know?” he said. “Look at this bullshit. No one knows about Morph's sacrifice, and Charlie goes back in a brass urn with nothing more than a doctor's note and escort by Angelica.”

“I know,” I said. “Life's a bitch.” We were dominoes lined up one after the other, falling at another's behest.

As the final volley shattered the evening, he took my hand from his cheek and threaded my fingers in his.

“So what do you believe in?” he asked.

I avoided his gaze, watching the two soldiers draw the flag off the coffin and begin to fold it.

“I'm not sure,” I said. “Something.”

“Would you call her agnostic, Arthur?” Francis asked behind us.

“Depends on your definition. Many agnostics would suggest that knowledge of a higher power is unknowable, and I am uncertain if our lovely commander has doubt in that matter. I believe this is something she'll have to define for herself.”

I turned back to the men. Arthur tipped his beret.

“We're with you, too, Colonel, whatever it is you're up to,” Sundarshan said. “For the next six months or so, anyways.”

“Thanks. Thanks, Sunny.”

The soldiers presented the triangle of the flag to the Muslim woman.

“As a representative of the United States Army, it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your loved one.”

Her face was veiled but I thought she glanced to me as she took it. I kept looking at her. As the coffin descended, she walked over with the flag out.

“You were Kade's commander?” she asked. Her voice held a slight quaver, but it was from age and not emotion. I wasn't sure how to answer.

“Friend, ma'am,” I said. “I'm sorry for your loss.” A trite response, but all I knew to say. I'd repeated it at a lot of funerals.

“I didn't support Kade joining the Army,” the woman said. “You can't be fully veiled and you spend far too much time in the company of men.” I thought I saw her eyes smile. “I'm glad you were with her.”

As the notes of Taps faded into the rain, I unlinked my hand from Attila's and shambled to the edge of Morph's grave. I dug in my pocket and brought out the small brass token the general had first left me. I tossed it in with her. For her. For me.

Attila drew me from the gravesite. The older men lagged behind, Sundarshan on a walker and the others with canes on muddy sod. As we walked back to the rental car, a woman stepped from a tree.

“You look well,” Leica said.

She'd lost her retinue of cameramen, but a dark figure leaned against the trunk of an oak, fifty yards distant. It could have been the gravedigger waiting to finish his job.

“I'll recover,” I said.

“Thanks to me.” She stood, waiting for acknowledgment.

“Thanks to me, you were tipped off on the story in the first place.” I wasn't in the mood. “Enjoy your Pulitzer.”

“But there is a bigger story.” Her eyes gleamed.

“We do good work, Leica. Lay off.”

“Prove it,” she replied. “You owe me. Tit for tat.”

I shook my head and continued on to the car.

“I'm close, I know it. That general of yours looks like he'll keel over any moment. And I met your grumpy old men,” she pointed to them, “they're all dying one way or another, and yet they told me they're waiting for a mission. What kind of mission could they be waiting for?” She threw up her arms, and I knew she'd racked her brain for all the obvious potentialities. “Are they suicide bombers? Geriatric kamikazes?”

We left her in the rain, and I noted the trench-coat man approach her. It was then that I recognized him.

“Handso,” I whispered.

“The nasty police man?” Attila asked as he ducked into the car.

“In the flesh,” I said, shutting the door and sinking into the leather seat. It looked like Handso had his rainy day. “Even the good guys are against us.”

My phone buzzed and I picked it up; it was Deeth.

“I passed your contact info along, Colonel,” he said.

“You did?” I shifted close to Attila so that he could listen. “So who is it going to be? Are you the new commander?” I crossed my fingers.

“The general stays.”

My jaw dropped and Attila punched the dashboard.

“What are you talking about? He tried to murder me!”

“The president and I spoke for an hour,” Deeth continued calmly. “He didn't seem surprised by the general's actions. Doing what was necessary for the good of the unit. In the president's words,
The general has saved more Americans than Jesus Christ
. And he didn't have positive things to say about your performance to date. I'm sorry.”

I gritted my teeth, unable to respond.

“I give the general three to six months; with this latest heart attack he's definitively terminal. Can you hang in there that long?”

“You're willing to stay?” I couldn't believe Deeth would accept this.

“I can't leave the general to run it. It has to be done right.”

Attila scowled, brow fierce over stormy eyes.

Deeth added to his pitch, “This unit needs someone like you, Colonel.”

After a swallow, Attila gave a minute nod. “If you're in, I'm in.”

I took a deep breath. Through the water sheeting over the windows, I watched Leica and Handso skulk between lines of gravestones.

“We can hang in,” I said.

A sound like relief came over the phone.

“Good, because while the general is bedridden, you're the commanding officer of the Terminals.” He paused. “Congratulations.”

I was pissed that the general might return, and I didn't want the job. I was frightened to have more men and women under my command. I'd lose more. I was guaranteed to lose more. “I don't want to be the hand that takes lives, Major.”

“You're a soldier,” he replied. “All you can do is keep them alive for as long as you can.”

“All right,” I said, running my free hand through my hair. I tried to ignore the irony of the general getting his legacy, having his goddaughter run the unit he'd created.

“Good. Expect a call from on high.”

“On high?”

“Your first mission, Colonel. Two, in fact. You might want to have
the talk
with Sundarshan,” he replied. “But we'll need a specialist for the second.”

“Another Euth.” I sighed.

“Yes, sir,” he said smartly.

I turned the ignition and pulled out around the hearse before I glanced at Attila. Water tracked down from his sideburns, but he was silent. Nothing remained to be said. We had a deadline for the general's demise, six months to wait. Nothing stopped death.

“What do you think about what Leica said?” I asked.

“About telling her?” His eyes widened.

“No, should we change the name from terminals to kamikazes?”

He chuckled.

“No, I like the Terminals. But let's pick up some sushi for Francis. I've never seen him eat Japanese.”

“Sure thing.” My mind had already turned toward the upcoming conversation with Sundarshan.

“You going to be okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I'll live.”