The Chemist Part 28

"Gimme a sec," Daniel whispered.

She could barely hear his movement over the sound of her own heartbeat and the panting of the dogs. There was a tinny creak, and then a quiet metallic groan. A faint green light glowed to her right. She could just make out Daniel's shape-his hand lit up as he touched a glowing keypad. Suddenly, brighter white light burst through a long line beside him. As he yanked the crevice open and more light flooded the s.p.a.ce, she saw what he was doing. He was at one of the old cars on blocks. He'd opened the fake battery, entered his birthday code, and the false engine had opened. It was the stash of rifles, illuminated from the inside.

"Put some of those in the Humvee," she whispered to Daniel. The low volume was probably unnecessary, but she couldn't make herself speak louder.

The light was enough to brighten a s.p.a.ce about fifteen feet around him in every direction. The two dogs stood by the door, facing out as if expecting intruders, waiting and panting.

Alex sprinted to her duffels and threw off the old tarp. She unzipped the side of the bottom bag and grabbed a pair of latex gloves. She pulled them over her bleeding hands. She took a second pair and stuffed them halfway into her front jeans pocket.

When she turned, Daniel had already moved on to the hollow tractor tire. He had two rifles slung over his back, and cradled in his arm were two Glocks and the shotgun she'd been wishing for. As she watched, he reached for the SIG Sauer he'd seen her practice with. He might be new to her world, but his instincts seemed up to the task.

It took her two trips to get her bags into the vehicle hidden behind the hay bales. On the first trip, she gave Daniel the gloves as they pa.s.sed each other. He put them on without asking for an explanation. She was happy to see the Humvee's interior lights had been disengaged. After her stuff was in, she loaded the grenades but chose to leave the rocket launchers behind-she wasn't sure she could figure out how to use them without blowing herself up.

"The cash?" Daniel asked when she pa.s.sed him.

"Yes, all of it."

He moved quickly in response, and for one crazy second she had a sense of dej vu. They worked well together-just like doing dishes.

There was a supply of Kevlar. She put a vest on and tightened the straps as far as they would go, but it still hung a little loose. It wasn't unbearably heavy, so she guessed it had ceramic plates. She pulled another for Daniel. There were a couple of Batman wet suits, but they were too big for her and would probably take too long for Daniel to struggle into. She smiled when she found two thick baseball caps. She'd heard about these but thought only the Secret Service used them. She stuck one on her head and took the other to Daniel along with the vest.

He put both on silently, his face determined and pale. She wondered how long he could hold it together. Hopefully, the natural adrenaline would last until they got out of this.

She strapped a long, thin blade to her thigh, wrapped a holster belt under her usual leather utility, then slung another over her shoulders. She went to the back of the Humvee. She took one of the Glocks and put it on her right hip. She put the SIG under one arm and her PPK under the other. Then she holstered the sawed-off shotgun on her left hip.

"Ammo?"

He nodded. He'd left his favorite rifle slung over one shoulder. She jerked her chin toward it.

"Keep that on you, and take a handgun, too."

He picked up the other Glock and gripped it in his gloved hand.

"We need to wipe down everything you touched."

Before she was finished speaking, he was in motion. He grabbed the tarp that had hidden her bags and tore off two long strips. He threw her one and went out to the lock, Einstein shadowing him. She started on the first car he'd opened. It didn't take them long to get everything. There was blood on the pieces of tarp, so she stuffed them into the back of the Humvee, too.

She stopped to listen for a moment. Nothing but four nervous animals breathing.

"Where do we go now?" Daniel asked. His voice was strained and more inflectionless than usual, but he sounded in control. "Your place up north?"

She knew her expression was hard-and possibly frightening-as she told him, "Not yet."

CHAPTER 18.

You're going back," he said in a hollow whisper.

She nodded.

"Do you think Arnie might still be-"

"No. He's dead."

Daniel's body swayed ever so slightly in reaction to the cold certainty of her words. "Then shouldn't we be running? You told me if they come for us, we run."

He was right, and it was also her nature to run.

She wondered if this was the feeling those mothers had-the ones you read about in the news who lifted the minivan off their child. Desperate, terrified, but also as powerful as a superhero.

Alex had her way of doing things: plan, plan, plan, plan for every possibility, and then, when disaster hit, execute the plan that was the best fit. She did not do spur-of-the-moment. She did not do instinct. She did not do fight; she did flight.

But she didn't just have herself to protect tonight. She had a minivan to lift.

There was no plan, only instinct.

Her instinct was that a serious attack was happening, a well-coordinated one organized by people who had more intel than they should have. She and Daniel could run, but who knew what else the hunters had set up? There could be another trap.

If she could find out who they were and what they knew, her escape with Daniel had a much better chance of success.

Finding things out was her specialty, after all.

Attacking was not, but that just meant it would not be expected. h.e.l.l, she was more than a little surprised herself.

The hunters didn't know about the Batcave, or they would have been waiting for her here. They didn't know about the resources she had access to.

If she thought this through at all, she would probably change her mind. But she was high on her own adrenaline now, and trying to make the smart choices. Not just the ones that would save them tonight, but that would save them tomorrow and the next day. She couldn't make the right choices if she didn't have the right information.

"Running would probably be safest in the short term," she answered.

"Then?"

"I haven't had this chance before-to interrogate one of the a.s.sa.s.sins sent for me. The more I know about who they are, the safer we'll be in the future."

A second pa.s.sed.

"You're not leaving me behind," he stated evenly.

"No, I need your help. But only on one condition."

He nodded.

"You have to do exactly what I say. I don't care if you like it or not."

"I can do that."

"You have to stay in the car."

His head jerked back just a little, then his lips tightened.

"Exactly what I say," she repeated.

He nodded again, not pleased. She was not convinced he meant it.

"I'll need you to cover me," she explained, "and the Humvee is the best place for that. You can't watch my back if someone shoots you. Okay. This is going to get ugly. Can you handle that?"

"I've handled ugly."

"Not like this." She paused for a second. "My best guess is that these guys think they're here for Kevin and you. There's a chance I'm already dead, as far as the people who matter are concerned. That means I have to do things differently than I usually would. I can do only those things that Kevin could do. It's going to be old school, and we won't be able to leave any survivors."

He swallowed, but nodded once more.

"All right, take the night-vision goggles, you're driving."

She truly wished he didn't have to see what was coming-to see her the way she was going to have to be-but there was no help for it now.

As they drove carefully through the barn door, the dogs silent in the back of the Humvee except for some heavy breathing, she could feel herself changing, getting ready. It was going to be both ugly and very, very messy. That was, if they didn't get her first.

She pulled a small syringe from a bag in her pack. Her last, but then, if she didn't use it now, she might not live to need it another night.

"Do you trust me?" she asked him.

"Yes." The way he said it gave unusual weight to the simple affirmative.

"I've got only this one dose left, so we're going to have to share a needle, like junkies. My blood's clean, I promise."

She stabbed herself in the leg and depressed the plunger a little less than halfway. Daniel was bigger than she was.

"What is it?" he asked nervously.

She'd forgotten. He didn't like needles. "A synthesis of dextroamphetamine and an opioid-kind of like... adrenaline and painkillers. It will help you keep going if you get shot." Anywhere but the head or heart, she didn't add.

He nodded, and then very carefully kept his eyes forward as she stabbed him through his jeans and into his thigh. He didn't wince. She pushed the rest of the solution into his body. It was enough to last for thirty minutes at most.

"How well can you see?"

"Surprisingly well."

"Can we go faster?"

He stepped on the gas as his answer.

"When you're in place," she instructed, "get in the backseat and crack open these little side windows. Shoot anything human that isn't me. I shouldn't be hard to pick out-I'll be a lot smaller than anyone else you'll see."

His lips tightened again.

"You stay in here no matter what, you got that?"

He nodded.

"Are you going to have a problem shooting these people?"

"No." He said it forcefully, then clenched his teeth.

"Good. Anything goes wrong-your gun jams, someone gets into the Humvee somehow, whatever, you throw a grenade out the window. That's the signal that you need help. Do you know how to use a grenade?"

"What's your signal?"

"Huh?"

"If you need my help, what's your signal?"

"My signal is stay in the car, Daniel. The grenade?"

"I think so," he grumbled.

"This might take a little while, so don't get antsy. I won't start an interrogation until I have everything secured. Oh, pull the goggles off before you throw a grenade, or close your eyes. Look out for flares-they'll blind you."

"Got it."

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Daniel jumped a foot, hitting his head on the low ceiling.

"The h.e.l.l?" Alex shouted.

"It's Kevin's phone," Daniel said, patting his vest frantically with his right hand. He dug the phone out of a snap pocket meant for ammo. She took it from him as he fumbled with it.

An unfamiliar number glowed on the display. She jabbed the answer b.u.t.ton.

"Danny?" Kevin barked in her ear.

"Rotten timing, Beach! He'll call you back!"

"Put him on, you-"

She hung up and powered the phone off.

"Stay focused. You can call him back when we're finished."

"No problem."