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Desh's eyes widened as a square opening in the concrete wall was revealed, hidden behind the plywood. It was about six feet on a side and formed the entrance to a tunnel leading away from the house.
Metzger pulled a small flashlight from his vest and pointed it down the pa.s.sageway. The tunnel continued for about thirty yards and then curved out of sight.
"Interesting," said Desh. "Were you searching specifically for an escape hatch?" he asked the major.
Metzger nodded. "Blackmail too many powerful men and you create a few enemies. Even if Putnam convinced them the dirt he had collected would be released automatically if he was killed, he would still want to have a means to escape a frontal a.s.saulta"just in case."
"Not all that well hidden," noted Kira.
"Doesn't need to be on this side," said Metzger. "Putnam would count on his security monitors giving him a head start. I'm sure the tunnel exit is well concealed. Once Putnam emerges, he can probably collapse the tunnel behind him to prevent anyone from following."
"Let's get out of here," said Desh. "Even though Putnam is convinced of the strength of his signal and receiver, I want Kira aboveground," he said protectively. "Why take any chances we don't have to? We can search this tunnel later." He paused. "Nice work, Major."
Desh caught Kira glancing nervously at her watch as they climbed the stairs. "I'm guessing you would have told me if you had heard three high-pitched beeps recently," he said softly.
Kira sighed. "He'll reset it," she said, although with less confidence than before.
When the three of them emerged from the bas.e.m.e.nt, Griffin saw them through the gla.s.s wall of the study and motioned them over.
"I haven't found anything linking Putnam to terror or the sterilization virus," he said when they had joined him, "but I did find files on a number of powerful people in politics and the military."
"Compromising ones?" guessed Kira.
"Very," he replied. "Hoover would be proud. Putnam has a number of taped phone calls implicating the callers for taking bribes, cheating on spouses, engaging in criminal activitya"the works." He paused and shook his head. "He also has a lot of these." A video of a chubby, balding older man having s.e.x with a buxom young beauty appeared on the screen. None of them recognized the man. "According to the file," explained Griffin, "Baldy is the CEO of a major corporation. Putnam has videos of a number of powerful men engaged in either h.o.m.os.e.xual activity or having s.e.x with women who aren't their wives. But I'll spare you any more samples," he said.
"Thank you," said Desh in sincere appreciation.
"Not exactly the kind of thing you'd want to be shown to your wife or children," noted Metzger unnecessarily.
"Or your const.i.tuency," added Desh.
A digital clock appeared at the bottom of Putnam's computer monitor. It read 9:45. Desh eyed Kira worriedly. She was trying to keep a stiff upper lip but he could read the tension in her face.
There was a knock at the front door!
Desh grabbed Kira's arm and rushed from the room, taking up a position on the wall flanking the front door. Metzger hurried Griffin with him into position on the other side. Both men trained their weapons at the door.
There was another knock and then the rattle of keys. Finally, the door swung slowly open.
"h.e.l.lo in there," yelled S. Frank Putnam from the entrance. "I'm alone and unarmed. I'm coming in," he announced.
Putnam calmly entered and closed the door behind him. Once the door had closed, Desh rushed to the window and peered out. He raised his binoculars and scanned the vicinity, but didn't see any evidence of anyone else approaching.
"Congratulations on escaping from the safe house and discovering my ident.i.ty," said Putnam sincerely. "One of these days you'll have to tell me how you did it," he added.
"What are you doing here?" growled Kira disdainfully.
"Making sure you don't violate my property any further, my dear. My men will be arriving here in about ten minutes," he said, "but I thought I'd say h.e.l.lo and give you a chance to surrender first."
"Why?" asked Desh suspiciously.
"I don't want to risk any injury to Dr. Miller, of course."
"Other than your implanted bomb that's set to go off in twelve minutes, you mean," said Desh.
"Twelve minutes is plenty of time for me to reset it; which I fully intend to do. I just wanted to tell you personally that you'll soon be greatly outnumbered, and urge you to surrender when my men arrive."
Desh spoke into the microphone of his walkie-talkie. "Colonel, possible incoming hostiles converging on our position. Do you have a visual?"
There was no answer.
"Colonel, come in." He paused and lifted the tiny microphone to his mouth. "Come in," he said anxiously. "Say again, possible incoming hostiles."
"What's the matter, Desh?" taunted Putnam. "No answer?"
"What did you do!" demanded Kira in alarm.
"You think my men wouldn't spot a f.u.c.king RV?" said Putnam contemptuously. "That thing's a monstrosity."
"What did you do!" persisted Kira.
"As it turns out, absolutely nothing, my dear. Your friend the colonel did it to himself."
"Did what to himself?" snapped Desh.
"When my people boarded the RV, your colonel friend was hiding in the bedroom. Thought he'd be cute and wear electronic earplugs and goggles and toss out a stun grenade. He figured he would recover his sight and hearing before we did." Putnam shook his head in amus.e.m.e.nt. "He didn't count on the vibration knocking him off his feet. His head slammed into the corner of an end table. Killed him instantly." He paused, milking the moment. "It wasn't pretty."
The four intruders traded horrified glances. Even Kira and Griffin, who hadn't known the colonel very well, looked ill at the loss of such a good man.
Putnam made a show of looking at his watch. "You have five minutes to come out with your hands raised," he said. "After that my men will come in after you." The corners of his mouth turned up in a cruel smile. "But I really have to go now, my dear. If I'm late resetting that little device in your head, I might end up with brain splatter on my drapes." He raised his eyebrows. "Can't have that, can we?"
Kira raised her gun and pointed it at Putnam. "Don't take another step!" she growled.
"Or what?" he said scornfully. "You're going to shoot me?" He shook his head and laughed. "You're going to give yourself five minutes to live? You're going to kill the only chance you have to keep the lid on Pandora's box? I don't think so."
A bullet exploded from Kira's gun and tore through Putnam's chest, slamming him back against the door. "Think again," she whispered, her face a mask of rage. She walked toward him and emptied the entire magazine into his body.
"Kira, what are you doing!" screamed Desh.
"He had to die," she spat hatefully.
Kira Miller turned away from the body and gathered herself. "David, take Putnam's escape tunnel and get out of here. Using my treatment the three of you can stop Putnam's plot. I know you can. But with the leverage he had over me, I was hurting our chances. Beat this b.a.s.t.a.r.d and then carry out your vision. You're a good man. I have confidence in you."
Desh said nothing, but reached out to hold her. She melted into his arms and several tears escaped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
"David," she whispered, still in his arms, "I'm going to give you the GPS coordinates to my flash drive. If for some reason you aren't able to stop the virus, I'm counting on you to give the secret of longevity to the world."
Kira Miller wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and focused with all of her heart on unlocking her memory. Not because some external force was demanding it, but because she wanted to give it freely. To this man. A man she had come to trust and admire. Her instincts in choosing David Desh had been perfect. Had things been otherwise, who knew where their relations.h.i.+p might have led.
She gasped. Like a dam bursting, her memory came flooding back into her mind!
Kira cupped her hands around Desh's ear and whispered the coordinates. She repeated the coordinates several times until Desh was able to whisper them back to her. Even if he forgot them, she knew, his enhanced mind would remember them with perfect clarity, along with the exact feel of her breath in his ear and her exact p.r.o.nunciation of every number.
Now she knew that her life extension discovery would live on, even if she didn't. And Desh would only reveal it if Putnam's plan couldn't be stopped. She was certain of it.
Kira pushed Desh away as several more tears began to slide down her face. "You need to keep your distance," she said.
It was 9:59 and the second hand on Desh's watch was sweeping around the dial at a sickening pace. "Kira, you're the most extraordinary woman I have ever known," said Desh with absolute sincerity.
She forced a brave smile for the benefit of Desh and the two other members of the team. "Thanks. I just hope I was wrong about that afterlife thing," she said.
And with that, Kira Miller closed her eyes and awaited oblivion.
46.
Kira's three companions closed their eyes with her. Precious seconds continued ticking.
An explosion rocked the room!
It was intense beyond reason. The flash from the explosion was as bright as a supernova and blinded everyone in the room, even through closed eyelids.
Desh realized he couldn't hear and then instantly realized something else: the explosion had been from a stun grenade, not from the device in Kira's head.
He swung around to defend himself but it was too late. Two men grabbed him roughly, one of them pressing a gun to his face. The other pulled his arms behind his back and tightened an all too familiar plasticuff restraint around his wrists. He knew not to resist. Deaf and blind with a gun in your cheek was not an ideal tactical position in which to be. He was pushed roughly into the wall and was frisked expertly, his weapons quickly removed.
Desh's eyesight and hearing gradually returned. The room began to come into focus once again.
Kira Miller was standing next to him! Alive! And it was after 10 o'clock.
Desh and Kira had been forced next to each other, flanked by two armed commandoes who had each worn electronic earplugs and goggles during the raid. Griffin and Metzger had been herded together about ten yards away, flanked by their own heavily armed guards. Putnam's b.l.o.o.d.y, bullet riddled body lay between the two groups.
The commandoes must have arrived through Putnam's tunnel in the bas.e.m.e.nt, Desh realized, lobbing in a few flashbangs to easily overpower the inhabitants of the living room.
A handsome, clean-cut civilian of average size and weight, wearing casual slacks and a sport coat walked briskly and arrogantly into the living room. His blue eyes were eerily calm, but there was also both a shrewdness and a menace to them; like those of a poisonous snake just before a strike.
Kira Miller gasped! She reached out to steady herself, having momentarily become dizzy.
"Alan?" she croaked in dismay, barely able to get the name out.
"h.e.l.lo, Kira," he said cheerfully. "Happy to see your big brother alive?"
Kira was too stunned to reply. She stood facing him with her mouth open.
"Or just happy that the device Putnam put in your skull was a bluff?"
Kira's mind awakened from its paralysis. She didn't understand. Anything. Her brother was alive! And Putnam's bomb had been a bluff! Her emotions were at such a fever pitch she was afraid she would explode after all.
"Search their pockets carefully," Alan Miller instructed the men. "If any of them have small pills on them, it's important they be found."
The men conducted a full body search and quickly found the gellcaps Desh and Metzger were carrying in their pockets. The soldiers handed them to a delighted Alan Miller. He pocketed the gellcaps and turned to his sister. "Thanks, Kira. I can use all of these I can get."
"What's going on Alan?" pleaded Kira, recovering some of her equilibrium.
Her brother grinned. "Isn't it remarkable. As brilliant as you are and you have no f.u.c.king clue." He sighed. "I suppose I can spoon feed it to you. But not here. Let's adjourn to more comfortable surroundingsa"at least for me," he said, quite pleased with himself.
As he finished speaking the all-too-familiar sound of helicopters filled the living room. "Right on schedule," noted Alan. He gestured to the front door. "After you," he said.
Two commandoes raised automatic weapons and motioned them toward the door.
"What about them?" said Kira, gesturing to Griffin and Metzger.
Alan frowned. "They won't be coming with," he shouted over the incoming helicopters. "We'll see. If I think I can use them as leverage with you, perhaps I'll let them live out the day."
Alan Miller exited the house with his sister and Desh in tow as three helicopters landed on Putnam's property. The two outer choppers were of military design, but the one in the middle was civilian. It was white with red accents and was roughly the same size as a Blackhawk. The word Sikorsky was printed tastefully on its sh.e.l.l. This model was very exclusive, the type used by CEOs and heads of state, and could seat up to ten pa.s.sengers in decadent luxury.
Alan nodded at the commandoes. "Secure them," he ordered.
The soldiers opened the door to the chopper and pushed the two captives inside. The pa.s.senger compartment was truly spectacular: more opulent than the most luxurious limousine. There was enough headroom to walk through the cabin comfortably, a fully stocked bar, lacquered wood cabinetry, mirrors and inlaid video screens. The seats were all cus.h.i.+oned captain's chairs covered by the finest leather, with burled walnut finishes, separated from each other by s.p.a.cious armrests with compartments for wine gla.s.ses and phones.
Desh moved! He head b.u.t.ted one of the commandoes to the floor of the cabin and threw his shoulder into the other, slamming him against the c.o.c.kpit door. The man on the floor recovered with remarkable rapidity and rammed his rifle into the back of Desh's leg. Desh fell to his knees. By this time the other soldier had recovered and landed a fierce blow to Desh's face. He then clutched a fistful of Desh's hair and threw him back into a captain's chair at the back of the Sikorsky. "Don't try that again, a.s.shole," growled the solider. "Next time I won't be so gentle."
The soldiers proceeded to bind the two prisoners securely to the chairs. As an added precaution one of the men strung razor wire across the aisle just below their chins. If they moved forward the wire would slice into their necks.
When his men reported that all was secure, Alan Miller entered the helicopter and nodded for the commandoes to leave. He opened the door to the c.o.c.kpit. "Make sure we aren't being followed," he directed the pilot. "Let me know if you see anything suspicious."
Alan closed the c.o.c.kpit door and walked a few paces to the bar. He added several ice cubes to a c.o.c.ktail gla.s.s and then calmly, deliberately, filled it with equal parts Scotch and club soda as though he didn't have a care in the world. Finally he sat across from his sister and Desh and took a sip of his drink, closing his eyes to savor it.
"Now, that's more like it," he said. "No reason not to be civilized," he added smugly.
He reached out and rapped on the cabin door twice, and moments later the helicopter lifted off.
"Finally," said Alan Miller, "we can have a private conversation. The pilots can't hear anything being said in this compartment."
The all-enclosed cabin was carefully designed to keep the din of the helicopter blades from encroaching, and Kira realized they would be able to converse without shouting. Executives demanded a quiet ride and had the money to ensure they got it.
Kira was wounded to the depths of her soul. The pain in her eyes was profound. "It was you all along," she said numbly to her brother.
He nodded. "For someone so brilliant, you don't catch on very fast," he commented.
"My teachers," she said weakly. "Mom and Dad. Uncle Kevin. It was you?"
Alan grinned. "Who else?" he said proudly. "But don't beat yourself up. I was the model big brother around you. A perfect angel. Otherwise, I'm sure you'd have at least considered a possibility so obvious it could have bit you in the a.s.s."