A Necessary Kill (22 page)

Heskith nodded, holding his hands up defensively and taking a subconscious step away from the desk. “We’re doing everything we can, sir. I’ve spoken to our new… contractor—he’s tracking him down as we speak.”

Cunningham sighed and paced back and forth behind his desk. “He had everything, Gerry. Do you understand?
Everything
. This Adrian Hell business is one thing—the information
he
has is cause for concern, I know, but we’d be able to explain it all away in time. But Matthews has everything. In lots of detail. If he gets a sudden bout of conscience, we’re finished.”

“I understand, sir. Leave it with me. It’s best you don’t know any more about this.”

Cunningham let out another long sigh before sitting back down. He could feel the tension building between his eyebrows just above the bridge of his nose. He used a finger to quickly massage away the beginnings of a headache. He looked up at Heskith. “Fix this.”

The chief of staff nodded and left without a word. President Cunningham leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at his desk once more.

17:45 EDT

After a tense couple of hours, Cunningham had retired to the residence early. His anger and concerns had eventually given way to butterflies ahead of the history-making events that were only a few hours away.

He sat facing the fireplace cradling a glass of brandy in his hand and staring thoughtfully at the flames. The smell from his glass was strong but not unpleasant. Brandy was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself. He gave up his life to politics knowing his destiny was always to be exactly where he was, doing exactly what he was doing. He had seen it so clearly from a young age. He had foregone a typical childhood, having very few friends and even fewer relationships. He had no interest in getting married or having children. He just had his mission. But brandy was the exception. He had started drinking it in his mid-twenties and fell in love with it from the first sip. He kept his glass on the mantel above the fireplace, so it remained subtly warm for when he poured himself a measure—a trick one of his old college professors taught him.

He cradled his tumbler, occasionally sipping at the expensive amber fluid. Next to him, the day’s newspaper lay on the mahogany table in the glow of the lamp, waiting to be perused.

But he couldn’t focus on reading. All he could think about was what the world would look like tomorrow, and whether or not there would be any more surprises that could threaten everything he had worked for before then.

The business with Matthews had really angered him. And worried him. He knew Heskith would handle it, but that wasn’t the point. The risk of exposure was massive, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that his luck might run out before tomorrow.

He took some deep breaths and another sip of his drink, trying to relax. He wasn’t there yet, but he was in the home stretch. He checked his watch and smiled.

Just under four hours to go.

22:02 EDT

Caesar’s is incredible! I’ve never stayed anywhere as nice as this. The suite Ruby booked is a premium deluxe something-or-other in the Centurion Tower, with a view of the ocean from the room. There are two queen-size beds facing a large TV screen and a section of the suite that consists of armchairs and a low table, like a lounge. The bathroom, on the left as you enter the suite, is wall-to-wall marble. Cold, yet opulent.

Ruby lay on one of the beds, resting. That bullet must have really shaken her—she’s not taken her clothes off once since we got here…

I’ve been pacing up and down the room pretty much since we arrived earlier this afternoon. We’ve kept a low profile—we haven’t ventured out of the suite once, and we’ve ordered room service when we’ve needed food or drink.

Tomorrow, with some luck, Jonas Briggs will arrive and we can finally start planning this thing. I feel like I’ve been trapped in some kind of purgatory—every time I look forward, something crops up behind me and keeps me rooted to the spot. I’ve been running for weeks now, and I’m fast-approaching the point where I’m ready to just stop, turn around, and shoot whoever’s chasing me.

“Will you sit down? You’re giving me a headache.”

I’m standing at the window, looking out at the balcony and the city beyond, all lit up and bustling with activity below. I glance over my shoulder at her and smile apologetically. “Sorry. I’m just anxious.”

“Well, learn to relax a little, would you?” She reaches over for the remote and clicks the TV into life and settles for the first thing she finds, which looks like some kind of sitcom. She pats the bed next to her. “Come on, sit down. Enjoy.”

I look at the space beside her and raise an eyebrow.

She sighs. “I’m not going to eat you—man up, will you?”

I roll my eyes, move around the bed, sit down, and rest against the plush headboard. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment.

“Attaboy,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. “Now…”

Her hand rests on my leg, high up my thigh. My eyes snap open, I spring to my feet, and stare at her. She starts laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. “Look, it’s been hard enough what with you flashing me every two seconds…”

She raises an eyebrow. “Has it now? There’s hope for you yet, Adrian!”

Her playful smile does little to help matters. “What? No, not like that… Just… okay, look—I’m on the edge, alright? I’m this close to losing my fucking mind! I have to kill the president, and the entire country is gunning for me. I’ve not taken one step toward getting this fixed, and people are depending on me. I’m sick and fucking tired of running. I just want everything simplified and broken down. I want to be pointed in the right direction and told where to shoot. That’s it! I don’t need any more drama or temptation or fucking
anything
getting in my way. Just…”

I run out of words. My breathing’s fast, yet heavy. I feel a surge of adrenaline in my veins. I feel my breaking point. Everything just spilled out of me, triggered by the slightest push.

What the hell…?

Compared to some of the shit I’ve been through in my time, and despite what’s at stake, this whole situation doesn’t really feel any worse than any other. What the hell’s wrong with me?

I focus my gaze on Ruby, who’s staring at me with wide eyes, filled with—not anger… not even shock… Is it sympathy?

She stands, walks around the bed, stops in front of me, and looks up at me for a moment. She puts her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest, squeezing me gently.

I don’t know how to react. My adrenaline hasn’t subsided yet, and I’m holding my arms out to the sides, not sure if I should embrace her or push her away.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “Okay? I’m sorry.”

I slowly move my arms around her as my heart rate slows, and hold her close to me as I fight another foreign concept—emotion. I feel overwhelmed, like what I’m doing is
too
big. I don’t honestly know if I can do this, regardless of how much help I might have.

I push her away slightly, holding her by her shoulders at arm’s length, staring into her eyes. “Ruby, if we fail…”

She tilts her head, smiling wryly. “If? If? Adrian, if your auntie had balls, she’d be your uncle!”

I frown. “Huh?”

She shrugs. “I dunno—something my old man used to say. The point is, since when do we deal with
ifs
? We deal in blood and bullets, Adrian. That’s it. I don’t blame you for losing sight of that. Shit, I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head right now. But I’m telling you—blood and bullets. Understand? Nothing else.”

I walk away, zoning out of the moment and gaze blankly through the window. The lights across the skyline blur together as my mind wanders.

A knock on the door disturbs me. I spin around, catching Ruby’s eye. “You order room service?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Could it be Oscar?”

I relax a little. I forgot about him. I called him earlier, and he said he would be here at around 10:00 p.m. I check the clock in the room and walk toward the door. As I reach for the handle, it opens from the outside.

Well, it’s not Oscar…

22:11 EDT

General Matthews walks into the room, brushing past me with indifference. I watch him, completely dumbfounded. He’s not in his full military garb—just a regular suit, carrying a briefcase. He looks thinner than I remember. I’ve not seen him since… since he killed half a billion people.

I need a minute…

What the fuck?

What the
fuck
?

I blink hard and shake my head.

… And we’re back.

I push the door shut and walk hurriedly over to him. I throw a punch, which catches him on the side of his face as he turns around to look at me, having been glancing curiously around the room. He goes down, dropping his case. I kick it away from him, reach down, grab him by his lapels, and haul him back to his feet. I punch him again—this time in the stomach—before pushing him onto the bed.

I lock eyes with him, my baby blues fixing a cold stare filled with hot fury. I don’t blink. “Ruby, get the gun, keep it on him.”

I look at her when she doesn’t move and see the confused expression on her face.

“This is General Matthews.”

Her eyes go wide. She moves for the gun and aims it at him.

I turn back to him. The rush of anger I feel is quick and frightening. “You piece of shit! How dare you come to me, you
fuck
! I should kill you right now…”

Matthews holds his hands up. “I… I expect you to.” His voice cracks with emotion. With fear. “But you need to hear me out first.”

Ruby steps forward, the gun unwavering in her hand. “Why the hell should we?”

“Because we’re running out of time and you can still stop this… this madness!”

Ruby and I take an involuntary step back, shocked.

I hold my hand out to Ruby, signaling for her to lower the gun. Shit just got interesting…

“Say what now?”

He shuffles himself up to a sitting position on the bed. “I’m a dead man. I know that. I just hope I’m not too late to make amends.” He points to his briefcase. “In there.”

I turn to Ruby. “Watch him.”

I move over to the case, which is now near the foot of the second bed, nearest the door. I pick it up, rest it on top of the covers, and click it open. It’s full of files and paperwork.

I look over at Matthews. “What’s this?”

“Everything,” he replies. “That evidence you’ve got… it’s okay. It’ll get people asking questions. But it won’t stop anyone. It won’t make a real difference. And that’s the sad truth. But everything in that case… it will change the course of history.”

I quickly start sifting through the papers. All my earlier concerns and doubts—none of that matters anymore. People say it can take just a second to change your life. They weren’t kidding.

I’ll admit, the majority of the documentation means little to me.

“Why are you here, Matthews? Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because Cunningham wants me dead!” he screams. “I messed up and now he’s trying to get rid of me. At first I was angry at you. It’s your fault I’m in this position…”

“My fault? How am I to blame for anything that’s going on?”

“Because you won’t
die
!”

I scoff and hold my hands up. “Oh,
I’m
sorry
…”

“Ever since Atlanta, I’ve been trying to kill you—to tie up the one loose end I had left. But you’re a resilient sonofabitch.”

I shrug. “Thanks.” I glance at Ruby. “That was a compliment, right?”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

I look back at Matthews. “I know you’ve been using Cerberus to track me. And I’ve lost count of how many body bags I’ve filled. I’m going to stop Cunningham. You know that, right? I’m gonna kill that bastard and—”

“And that won’t do a goddamn thing…” He shakes his head regretfully. “That’s why I’m here. He’s set his sights on me, now. I know he has. And nothing can stop him. It’s all in the case. Everything. Every last goddamn detail of what he’s planning. This is bigger than you can imagine, Adrian.”

I can’t hide the concern from my face. He’s telling the truth, I’m sure of it. I don’t like it, but he is. I lock eyes with Ruby, who looks much the same as I probably do—wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and completely speechless.

All this time it’s been presumed the buck stops with Cunningham. I’ve been working on the basis that if I can find a way of killing him, things will go back to the way they were. But now Matthews is saying that’s not going to happen…

“Then enlighten me… What’s after Cunningham?”

He nods at the briefcase. “It’s all in the there…”

I sigh, losing patience. “Give me the abridged version—that’s a lot of shit to look through.”

Matthews hesitates slightly.

“Don’t clam up on me now, you sack of shit!”

“He’s… ah… it’s Cunningham. His vision for the world… it’s… I understand it. He just wants peace.”

“He’s got a funny fucking way of showing it…”

“He’s an intelligent man, Adrian. Probably more so than you give him credit for. The Armageddon Initiative was his own creation, because he knew in order for his plan to work… for it to be accepted by the American people, he needed an enemy. In every story, there has to be a villain. Cunningham believes
he’s
the hero. The first stage—hijacking Cerberus and using it on all those different countries—was planned meticulously… for years. And Hamaad El-Zurak served his purpose well as the public hate figure. Installing him as the leader of a fictitious terrorist organization was a stroke of genius. But the next stage of the plan is happening now. And yet again, Cunningham has someone else to play the part of the villain.”

“What’s the next stage? What could possibly come next that’s worse than what’s already happened, worse than 4/17…?”

“Cunningham knows everything GlobaTech is doing. He knows where every man is, where every truck carrying medical supplies is, every engineer, every consultant… He knows it
all
. He’s going to destroy GlobaTech’s forces. He never wanted them to be a part of this. Never wanted them involved. Then you started helping them, and they were able to find out enough about what’s happened to think they could buy our silence. But Cunningham already had it figured out. He knew he could use GlobaTech to do the heavy lifting in the first few weeks. It would look great to the people of the world that the United States was helping, and he wouldn’t have to risk one member of our armed forces to do it. Now GlobaTech’s forces are spread so thin, they’ll be easy to wipe out. It’ll leave the world vulnerable, and people will beg Cunningham to help them. Using the full strength of this country’s military, we can destroy the enemy—the enemy Cunningham himself put in place just so they could fail after they’ve served their purpose—and he will control the world as it’s rebuilt from the ground up.”