Authors: Connie Suttle
"So he wants to bring them together so they can applaud his song and dance routine?" I asked.
"Yeah. He's a piece of crap," she said, sipping her tea.
"I've only seen him once-on television, right after he took office," I said. "He seemed like an empty-headed twit, so I switched to another program."
"Zoran's an easy target for Baikov and his clones to lead around by the nose. Or the balls," Opal huffed.
"Until he didn't want to die at the hands of the insurgents he invited into his country," Ilya said, taking the seat next to Opal. "Cabbage, come sit with me," he patted the seat next to his.
I'd been restless and uneasy ever since I'd handed out a death sentence to nearly four hundred insurgents. Ilya was asking me to sit.
"All right." I walked around the island to sit beside him.
"Stop fretting," he said, dropping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close for a tight hug. "Things will go as they will."
"How soon?" I turned to Opal when Ilya let me go. "How soon will that meeting with President Zoran happen?"
"Don't know, yet. The President has to get the other countries on board without them calling for Russian blood-whether they believe him or not, the Russians are ultimately responsible for the downing of those planes."
"That means the Secretary of State has a tough job to do," I said.
"True. But look at it this way-they may want that meeting soon, so the fires of their grievances will still be hot."
"But getting all of them to agree," Ilya pointed out. "That may not be so easy."
"Also true. We may be here for a while. I have the feeling that Madam President will want us there in one capacity or another."
"Great. I love politics," I said, recalling the meetings I'd gone to when I'd been to Camp David before. "I'll be interested to see whether a Baikov and Mary clone are included in Zoran's entourage."
"We should get a list of attendees before they arrive," Opal observed. "Matt will insist on it."
"Any word on Iraq?" Ilya asked, pulling me into a hug again.
"Matt said Iraqi physicians are still attempting to determine how those men died," Opal said. "It looks to them as if their hearts just stopped, with no discernable reason for it."
"They don't know who to blame for that, whereas they know-or think they know-who to blame for faulty rockets," Ilya offered.
"Do you think the Russian version of the Program will go underground until this mess blows over?" Nick asked after walking into the kitchen and setting a cup beneath the brewer to make coffee.
"If that's the plan, it'll just give them time to create larger problems for us," Ilya said. "I would prefer to eliminate it completely. That will not happen until we find their cache of the drug and destroy it, then destroy all their drug survivors and clones."
"What about our cache?" I asked. "Shouldn't it be destroyed, too?"
"Now we're treading unsteady ground," Nick said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the island. "We can say we want to keep some, just in case, but then what happens when somebody comes along and wants to live longer, or make clones of us?"
"Holy shit," I almost dropped off my barstool, I moved so quickly.
"What?" Ilya was off his seat, too, steadying me before I fell.
"We have to find Merle Askins," I snapped. "Now."
* * *
Notes-Colonel Hunter
By the time Matt's agents tracked Askins' personal cell phone, Askins was nowhere to be found and his assistant held up the former CIA Director's phone when he raised both hands in surrender.
He was brought back to Matt's office, where Matt and I were waiting-with Rafe and Corinne. Warren Brownlee, the assistant who was sent packing the same day Askins resigned, swallowed uncomfortably when he caught sight of Corinne.
He'd seen her before-when she'd gone to see Askins and offered a cure for his cancer. Askins was likely on his way to getting the drug, if it hadn't happened already. He'd left his cell phone with Warren, to keep up appearances.
"How long has he been gone?" Matt demanded.
"Th-three days," Warren mumbled. Corinne nodded her agreement-he was telling the truth.
* * *
Corinne
Warren Brownlee, Askins' assistant, was about to wet himself, he was so terrified. He also had no idea where Askins was; he only knew when the phone had been handed to him, with an excuse that Askins just
needed privacy
.
Askins had disappeared off my radar, too-leading me to believe he was with the enemy. That spelled the drug to me-Askins was either going to die or survive-as something other than what he was. It was an easy way to beat the cancer and any charges leveled by the Justice Department.
While he knew Askins had connections, he wasn't aware of who they really were-he only knew code names.
"Who did you think this
Spinner
person was?" Matt demanded after Warren revealed Askins' contact.
"Somebody highly placed who had a reason to hide his identity," Warren shrugged. "I thought we were uncovering vice and illegal activity."
"Let me guess-Matt and I were involved in all that?" Auggie snapped.
"He said as much-Director Askins did. He told me you were involved in very suspicious endeavors."
"What do you know about the Program?" Matt barked.
"He says it was one of your illegal operations," Warren blustered.
"You didn't think to ask about that?"
"Director Askins said it was better if I didn't know-then I couldn't be held accountable."
"Because he was in it up to his neck," Matt said. "I assume you understand that he was in charge of the creature experiments?"
"I came to that conclusion recently, yes," Warren dropped his eyes and stared at the floor.
"Do you know what those creatures used to be?" I asked, causing Auggie to turn a frown in my direction.
"Animals of some kind?" Warren turned to me, then.
"Those were the survivors of the attacks on Montana and Georgia. They used to be people, Mr. Brownlee. Your boss saw to it that they were used to blackmail and then to pose a threat when he thought to send them to the insurgency in Iraq. They're all dead, now, thanks to Mr. Askins."
"But-how?"
"It's complicated," Matt snorted. "Do you understand what you had your hands in, now? I sure as hell hope so. I have a cell with your name on it, and maybe in thirty years, if you're good, you'll get out of it. You can thank Director Askins for that, too."
"You knew you were wandering into illegal waters, didn't you?" I said.
"After a while," he nodded. "But I was loyal to my boss."
"Right. Stand up and put your hands behind your back," Matt said, producing handcuffs. "Bail will be refused-I'll see to that myself."
* * *
"If we're lucky, he'll die," Nick snarled.
"Askins always has been a lucky bastard," Opal pointed out. "I don't want to place any bets on this outcome."
"The odds are certainly against him," Richard said. He and Maye sat together on a media-room sofa at our ugly building.
"I hope we don't see him again," Ilya said. "I've had enough of that asshole. Corinne, perhaps you should have killed him when you had the chance."
"He had a choice. He chose to stay with the devil he knew," I sighed. "Rather than choosing what he understood to be right."
"You mean he does know right from wrong?" Maye huffed. "I'd never have guessed that."
"He went so far down the wrong path, he decided not to go back, I guess. I do have a question, though, for Auggie and Matt." I looked at Auggie-he and Matt were sipping Scotch and listening to the rest of us talk after sending Warren Brownlee to jail.
"What's that?" Auggie asked, rattling the ice cubes in his glass.
"Do former President Phillips and Askins have the same blood type?"
"Holy Christ," Ilya muttered.
"No," Matt said after consulting his phone for a few moments. "Not even close."
"Thank goodness," I breathed.
"That's a scary thought," Auggie said. "Stop scaring me, Cori."
"Okay. Want more Scotch?"
"Yeah."
"I'll get it," Nick offered and rose from his chair to wander into the kitchen.
* * *
Video-Drug Subject: Merle Askins
"There are no guarantees," the man holding the syringe said, his accent evident. "The final choice is yours."
"Guarantees?" Merle snorted a laugh. "The guarantee I have is that I'll be charged with treason and face a trial while lung cancer kills me. That's the guarantee I have. Give me the goddam drug. Do it now."
"Suit yourself." Askins watched as the needle was plunged into the IV line attached to his hand. He only had a moment to reflect before everything went dark.
* * *
Corinne
"Three weeks." Auggie set a tablet beside me while I ate a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. "Three weeks, and they want the meeting at the White House."
I looked at the tablet-it showed his personal schedule. I'd never seen his personal schedule before. "How's Laci?" I asked while reading the list of attendees at the meeting between Madam President and President Zoran. I understood as I read that Auggie intended to bring three guests, as did Matt. Without asking, I knew Ilya, Nick and I would be going with Auggie. Maye, Opal and Richard would go with Matt.
"I'm leaving James out of it," Auggie said. "Besides, he's enjoying his new relationship. I don't want to ruin that."
I understood what he was saying-if the shit hit, he didn't want James anywhere near it. James was human, after all. At least six guests at that meeting wouldn't be.
I still wanted to see the list that Zoran would bring, but that might not come until the last minute.
"Unless things go wrong before then, I'd like for you and Rafe to have a honeymoon," he added. "We've done nothing to celebrate your wedding, and that's not right."
"We're married under assumed names, Auggie," I stated flatly.
"I'll see to it that it's changed," he said. "I think Matt and I can arrange that, at least."
"What will it say-the amended marriage license?"
"It will say that Rafe Black married Corinne Watson, on the eighteenth of August," he said. "I wish I could put your real names there, but those people are dead, now. I hope you understand."
"I do. Thanks, Auggie. That's a nice wedding present."
"The underground facility near Chernobyl was shut down by the Ukraine government earlier," Auggie said. "They'll be at this meeting, too."
"I saw that," I nodded. So far, everybody of any importance would be there. They all wanted answers. France, Germany, the UK, several South American countries, Italy, Spain, Ukraine, Ireland, Japan, China, Canada, South Africa, Australia and at least a half dozen others would be there.
"I wouldn't want to be Zoran at this meeting," Auggie sighed. "I imagine France and Britain will demand their stolen crown jewels returned."
"He'll lay the blame on those imaginary criminals; you know he will," I huffed. "Besides, those crowns are in somebody else's vault right now-and the proceeds used to fund the insurgency in Iraq."
"Matt and I have shared that information with those attendees in the G20," he said. "They already know that getting their belongings back may be a lost cause."
"Any hint that Phillips may be involved?"
"None. I'm hoping Zoran will be backed into a corner and confess that much."
"I'll know if he's lying," I said.
"And that's why I want you there, giving me advice," he tapped his temple. "Madam President expects the same."
"I want pictures of everybody Zoran is bringing with him, including his."
"I'll arrange it."
"Thanks, Auggie."
* * *
"Is everything all right?" Ilya sat next to me on our bed. I'd settled there, just to stare into space.
"Everything just feels wrong, somehow," I said. "I know all those countries want to take their shots at Zoran and what he allowed Baikov and the others to do, likely with his knowledge, but I just don't like it."
"It's done, cabbage. This is what they want-Opal says that most of them can't wait to fling their accusations at Zoran."
"You probably wouldn't mind taking a swing at him," I said.
"I wouldn't swing. I'd crush," Ilya muttered. "His minions killed my son."
"Phillips' minions killed mine," I said.
"Why did Phillips give you the drug?" Ilya asked. "I fail to understand that."
I wanted to laugh at Ilya's question. I didn't.
"Because he was a fan of Harriett Majors," I grated. "He had no idea that I'd live, and likely, when he thought I wasn't a danger to him, he continued to let me live. He knows differently, now."
"You knew of this, although you disliked him as a politician?"