“Part of the mind control. She craves her father’s love, so I’m transferring that emotion. She’s a very smart young lady. She knows I’m manipulating her. Which gives her the false sense she’s maintaining control in the relationship. But her weakness is logic. If you can make an extremely logical case for something, you can probably get her to do it.”
“I could make it sound logical to fall in love with me.”
“She’s twenty.”
“So?”
“Girls that age are biologically drawn to strong young men of a similar age. Love is not a logical act.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not saying it’s impossible to make her fall in love with you, but I doubt you can. Your age and your looks are acceptable, but not an advantage for a nice looking twenty-year-old, in my opinion. Killing and copulating are acts. They’re specific, physical acts that take place and are quickly ended. Love is an emotion. It’s a feeling you have, not an act you perform.”
“Example?”
“Do you ever play poker?”
“I’ve played a couple of times.”
“And Kimberly’s fallen in love a couple of times.”
“So?”
“Trying to get you to play poker with me at one o’clock this afternoon is an act. I might have to persist, but I could probably talk you into playing a few games of poker with me today, or some other day. But trying to talk you into become a professional poker player today is too much to shoot for. Do you understand?”
“Getting her to fuck me is easier than getting her to fall in love with me.”
“Crude, but accurate.”
“And she calls you Daddy.”
“She calls me Daddy, yes. And she goes by the name, Maybe Taylor. Thinks I don’t know Taylor’s the name of the young man she killed. Her former boyfriend. In fact, I’m not supposed to know anything about the boyfriend, so put that part out of your mind.”
“Why Maybe?”
“Her choice of names. It means maybe she’ll kill for me, maybe she won’t. It’s her way of not having to think about killing as a profession.”
“The Daddy thing will be hard to navigate around, if I’m going to seduce her.”
“You’ll work it out. She already loves me, or at least, the idea of me. I’m her closest confidante, her only true friend. But I haven’t taken our relationship into any sort of sexual area. It’s a logical extension for her, but impractical for me. You, on the other hand, are young enough. And you’re cunning, and manipulating, given you haven’t tipped your hand to Creed about Area B. And Kimberly’s extremely vulnerable to a sexual relationship.”
“Why’s that?”
“She has female problems that can be exploited. She thinks I’m older, despite the voice disguising equipment. So when you speak to her in your real voice, she’ll be curious enough to open her mind to the possibility of romance. At that point you can confess you’ve fallen for her.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“She’s dying to feel loved. It’s your ticket to ride.”
“That’s a pretty hip comment.”
“I have my moments.”
Sam took a minute to work it around in his mind. Then said, “I understand the Daddy thing. But it places a huge obstacle in my path.”
“You need to let that go. It’s not as big an issue as you think. It helped convince her the best way to earn her father’s respect and love is to excel at what he does.”
“What, kill people?”
“Yes.”
“She’s seeking his approval.”
“Exactly.”
“And will he approve?”
“I can’t answer that or any question about how Creed might react to a given situation. And I say this after studying him for twenty years.”
“He’s a true psychopath, isn’t he?”
“No. His assistant, Callie Carpenter’s a true psychopath.”
“I know about that from personal experience. She nearly killed me once.”
“If she wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Creed stepped in.”
“He saved your life?”
“Yeah. Twice, in fact. But it doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“He only saved my life after kidnapping and mentally torturing me.”
“So you still want revenge.”
“I’d give ten years of my life to make him suffer a day. Until you happened along, my best shot was forcing him to know Rachel and I were underground together, beyond his reach. But I have a sinking feeling he might be pleased when he finds she’s stuck in a bunker for a few months or years.”
“You may be right about that.”
“But she’s supposed to be his girlfriend.”
“Yes, but Creed’s in a category unto himself.”
“And Kimberly?”
“She’s a different breed altogether. A cold-blooded killer, but completely predictable. At least, for now.”
“How would this work?”
“I can arrange murder-for-hire contracts that will come directly to you, and you can farm them out through Kimberly, and another lady who works for me, Hailey Brimstone.”
“Brimstone? Are you for real?”
“You’ve met her.”
“I don’t think so.”
Doc Howard pressed a button on his cell phone. “Lou? I’m with Sam. Can you bring Hailey in here?”
When the guy named Lou showed up with Hailey, Sam did a double-take, because Hailey Brimstone looked exactly like Sam’s wife, Rachel.
“I didn’t dream it,” Sam said. “She was here, in my room when I was half-conscious.”
“That’s right,” Doc Howard said. Then he introduced them and told Hailey he was retiring, but said Sam would continue to provide her with work, if she was interested.
She was.
Sam watched every movement Hailey made while she was in the room. When she left, he said, “Creed recruited her to mess with my head?”
“Yes.”
“I am definitely in. Tell me about the contracts.”
“They’ll pay twice what you need to compensate Hailey and Kimberly for their work. You can use the balance to fund your courtship with Kimberly.”
“Do we plan to tell Creed what we’ve done to his daughter?”
“That’s up to you. But the longer it continues, the sweeter the revenge. You’re manipulating her into the family business, so to speak. Though Creed is unpredictable, it’s likely he’ll be devastated to learn his daughter has turned into a murderer. If you really want to punish him you could possibly get her to commit terrorist acts. And imagine how he’ll feel when he learns Sam Case is coupling his daughter!”
“Coupling?”
“I’m old. Screwing her.”
“We say fuck.”
“Of course you do. Screwing isn’t vulgar enough. Very well, you’ll be fucking Donovan Creed’s daughter, and she’ll be killing for you. Could there possibly be a better revenge?”
“Killing Callie Carpenter would sweeten the pot.”
“You’ve got enough on your plate with this.”
“You haven’t said what you want from me.”
“You’ll earn your keep.”
“What will I have to do?”
“More than two things, less than six.”
“Are they legal?”
“What do you think?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m in.”
“I thought you might be.”
“Can I ask you why you did this to Kimberly? I thought you were Creed’s friend.”
“In the business we share, the concept of right and wrong is blurry, and lines are often crossed. It’s wise to give Donovan Creed a reason not to kill you. I recently had power over him, then I lost it. I always like to have something in reserve. His daughter is one of his weaknesses.”
“He’s got others?”
“Yes.”
“Such as?”
“Your wife, Rachel.”
“What’s Kimberly’s deepest, darkest secret?”
“She suffers from vaginismus.”
“What’s that?”
Doc Howard spent the next thirty minutes explaining vaginismus, and the effect it’s had on Kimberly.
Sam ended the conversation saying, “It’s a slam dunk!”
Doc Howard said, “What is?”
“Using Kimberly to punish Creed.”
48.
Present Day, Present Time.
SAM PULLS INTO the parking lot of the bowling alley, and waits.
Within seconds, Doc Howard calls and says, “To start things off, I want the Bin Laden death photos.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“How the hell—?”
“Sam? The government keeps the most valuable documents, photographs, paintings, patents, and other treasures underground, in Area B. You live and work there.”
“Those things are locked up in a whole different part of the complex. There’s never been a security breach in the history of the facility!”
“You’re a computer expert, with full access to the government’s computers.”
“No one gets full access.”
“Good thing you’re a computer expert.”
“You expect me to hack into the government’s computers? The most sophisticated system in the world?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I know twelve-year-old kids who could do it. You just happen to be the guy on the inside.”
“You want the actual photographs or the digital images?”
“One should be as good as the other.”
“If we’re talking about the digital prints, I can probably deliver them, if they’re in the computer.”
“You know damn well they are. They digitally catalog every item in the vaults.”
“What are your plans for the photos?”
“That’s my business.”
“What if I refuse?”
“You’ll be dead before we end the call.”
“How?”
“Remember the tracking device in your rental car? We planted explosives under the driver’s seat. But don’t try to run, or I’ll have to do this.”
“What?”
Sam hears a click.
“Did you just lock my doors?”
“I did. You’re spam in a can.”
“I don’t understand the reference.”
“It sucks being old. Though you might never know.”
“Look,” Sam says. “Not saying I’d ever double cross you, but what if I said sure, I’ll help you, but change my mind later, when I get back in the bunker?”
“You may be able to survive in there for many months. But sooner or later the government will release you. When they do, I’ll catch you, and turn you over to Creed.”
“And if Creed’s dead?”
“Callie. Are you, in fact, refusing to get me the photos?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good. So answer the question I asked earlier.”
“Which one?”
“Was having sex with Kimberly everything you hoped it would be?”
“Yes. And then some.”
“Good. I love it when a plan comes together. How did it make you feel?”
“Great. You knew it would, and it did. It felt, and still feels great.”
“You’re not falling in love with her, are you?”
“No chance. Kimberly Creed is inferior to me in every possible way. And now I’ve made her my fuck pony.”
“Was it hard to bed her?”
Sam laughs. “Fucking her was child’s play! And I’ll continue to fuck her as long as it suits me, though she’s not much of a lay. If not for the connection to Creed, I wouldn’t travel across town to do her.”
“One last question, if I’m not being too nosey. While you were having sex with Kimberly Creed, who were you thinking about, Donovan? Or Kimberly?”
“Both.”
“Good for you, Sam.”
49.
Doc Howard.
DOC HOWARD PRESSES the rewind button for the third time. “Was having sex with Kimberly everything you hoped it would be?”
“Yes. And then some.”
He fast forwards to “Kimberly Creed is inferior to me in every possible way. And now I’ve made her my fuck pony.”
He fast forwards to “Fucking her was child’s play! And I’ll continue to fuck her as long as it suits me, though she’s not much of a lay. If not for the connection to Creed, I wouldn’t travel across town to do her.”
Doc Howard smiles, thinking of the many ways he can use it. The big question is who should he play it for first? Sam, Donovan, or Kimberly?
He tries to give an evil villain laugh, but starts coughing in the middle of it.
Getting old’s a bitch.
50.
Maybe Taylor.
KIMBERLY LIKES HAVING an alias. For one thing, it helps her separate her killing life from her personal life. She also likes Sam far more than she thought she would. He grows on you. Like a wart, she thinks, smiling.
What she doesn’t like is her current relationship with her father. Specifically, she doesn’t like the way she’s been treating him. He’s got a life, and she’s a grown woman. They live in separate states, and his job keeps him traveling from place to place on a moment’s notice. She’s only recently begun to understand that part, but she now understands why it’s hard to schedule visits in advance.
And her father has enemies.
And those enemies might decide to come after her, to get back at him. He has to worry he could be leading those sorts of people to his daughter every time he meets her someplace.
Of course, this is one of the main reasons she decided to work for Sam almost a year ago. When he talked about helping her get in shape and learn self-defense, she thought of her father. If she could protect herself, maybe he wouldn’t worry so much about her safety. Then, over months, as she and Sam became closer, she told him about her father, what he did for a living, and Sam said he could provide her with that type of teaching as well. She didn’t have to kill people if she didn’t want to. But wouldn’t it be nice to know how?
From there, it was just a hop, skip and a jump—as Sam would say—to wondering how it felt to kill someone. Not a spur-of-the-moment killing, like with her boyfriend, Taylor, but a premeditated one, like her father routinely performs.
What better way could there be to understand his psyche than to enter his world?
After the breakthrough with Sam today, her head’s in a good place. Her female plumbing seems to have been restored, and she’s on the threshold of what could be a budding romance with an older guy who happens to be her adoring boss. For all the protesting she’s done, she’s secretly excited about having Sam as her boyfriend.
With so many things going for her, she suddenly regrets the phone message she left for her father.
She calls him back, gets his voice mail again. Says, “I’m sorry about the message I left a few minutes ago. I didn’t mean to say those things. I’m booking a flight to Vegas as soon as I hang up. I’m coming today, because we need to talk. There’ve been some major changes in my life, and I want to discuss them with you. I can’t say you’ll be happy with them, but I’m in a happy place. You’ve always said if I’m happy, you’re happy. So we’ll see. Anyway, call my cell if there’s a problem. Otherwise, I’m on my way to Vegas to see if we can be friends again.”
51.
Donovan Creed.
JEFF AND I sleep most of the way to Chicago. About an hour out, I give Bob Koltech a sack of cash and have him order a limo on his dime, so I won’t leave a paper trail.
“How much extra to spend the night here?” I ask.
“Just our rooms, food and transportation,” Bob says.
“How’s five grand sound?”
“Generous.” br />
I peel off fifty bills from one of the stacks in my case and add it to Bob’s bag.
“Don’t buy any liquor with that,” I say.
“What time you want to leave tomorrow?” he asks.
“I don’t know. We might even leave this afternoon, if my lady friend wants to come to Vegas.”
“Okay then. No liquor.”
When we land, Bennie the limo driver’s waiting for us with a stretch limo and a big smile. “You guys headed to UIC?” he says.
“We are,” I say.
“Good thing I’m your driver,” he says.
“Why’s that?”
“UIC has more than a hundred buildings on campus.”
“Over how many acres?”
“Two hundred forty.”
Bennie’s a proud father. Because his son is enrolled at UIC’s medical school, we get the full lecture on the ride over. The part I remember, UIC’s the nation’s largest medical school and has an annual budget of more than three hundred million dollars. Bennie claims thirty-five percent of the students speak English as a second language, which impresses him, for some reason.
“That’s amazing!” I say, noting the smirk on Jeff’s face.
Bennie says, “Which building you want?”
“Center for Magnetic Resonance Research.”
“Never heard of it.”
I punch the information into my cell phone. “1801 West Taylor Street.”
“Oh. You shoulda said MRI. So, you gonna enter the beast?”
“We’re just doing a short tour.”
“If you’ve got a pacemaker, or any metal inside you, they won’t let you near the beast. Can’t even enter the building! That’s the big boy I’m talkin’ about, the biggest MRI machine in the world.”
“Maybe we’ll get to see it,” I say.
Bennie looks up in the mirror to catch my eye. He nods his head to the side, indicating Jeff. “He don’t talk much, does he?”
“English is his third language.”
“No shit?”
“Hakuna uchafu,” Jeff says.
Bennie says, “What’s that?”
“Swahili,” Jeff says.
“No shit?”
Jeff smiles. “Exactly.”