The Chemist Part 52

"My parents evidently a.s.sumed I would be very boring. I cleared that misconception up pretty quickly."

Alex chuckled once. As was so often true lately, the laugh carried with it the barely disguised sound of panic. It was nice to talk like she imagined normal people did, to try to forget that this might be the last friendly, mundane conversation she would ever have, but she couldn't keep her thoughts focused on pleasantries.

Val patted her head. "It's going to be okay."

"You don't have to pretend to have faith in the plan. That's only for us suckers who are putting ourselves into the line of fire."

"It's not a bad plan," Val a.s.sured her. "I'm just not a risk taker. I never have been." She shrugged. "If I were brave, I would do it."

"It wasn't fair for me to ask you."

"No, it was. I do... care about Kevin. Part of me just can't believe that what you say is happening to him is actually happening. He's always seemed so invulnerable. That's what pulls me to him. Like I said, I'm not brave, so I'm fascinated with people who are. The other part of me..."

Val leaned back for a moment, the little brush with lip gloss on it trembling suddenly. Her face was still perfect, but suddenly it was the doll's face again. Exquisite, but empty.

"Val, are you okay?"

Val blinked and her face came back to life. "Yes."

"You'll leave here, after your part, right?"

"Absolutely. I have lots of friends who can protect me. Maybe I'll go visit Zhang. I'm sure he's still stuffy, but he has an amazing place in Beijing."

"Beijing sounds lovely," Alex half sighed. If she lived through tonight, she'd do whatever she had to in order to get her hands on a pa.s.sport. She'd blow the rest of her savings-all of Kevin's drug money. To be out of the easy reach of the American government sounded like a practical version of heaven.

"If..." Though when was probably more appropriate, Alex thought to herself. "If you don't hear from any of us by sunrise, go see Zhang. If I can, I'll call you from a pay phone."

Val smiled a little. "You have my number." Her lips pursed. "You know, there's a guy... I might be able to get my hands on a service-dog vest."

Alex stared at her for a moment, then felt her face start to crumple. With the new plan, the suicidal plan, there was really no way for Alex to keep Einstein safe.

"That's a brilliant idea. That makes me feel better." Her positive words didn't match her expression.

Val reached out with one bare foot and stroked it along Einstein's back. His tail thumped once against the marble floor, but without much enthusiasm.

"Okay," Val said in a brighter voice. "You're done. I'll throw on my things, and we're off."

While Val disappeared into the closet, Alex checked out her face. Val had done another excellent job. Alex looked pretty, but not flashy. The hair was obviously hers, which was important; she would definitely be scrutinized tonight, and a wig would be the most obvious tell. She looked more or less credible for the role she'd chosen. Of course, she'd feel more comfortable with no makeup at all-in her experience, that was the way people in this specific role presented themselves, without fuss or vanity. But that was just baggage from her past.

She knelt down on the floor beside Einstein. He looked up at her with eyes that were unmistakably pleading. She stroked his muzzle, then rubbed his ears.

"I'll do everything I can," she promised. "I won't come back without him. If I screw this up, Val will take care of you. It will be okay."

Einstein's eyes didn't change. They accepted no excuses or consolation prizes. They just begged.

"I'll try," she vowed. She laid her forehead against his ear for just a moment. Then, with a sigh, she got to her feet. Einstein put his head on his paws and huffed out his own sigh.

"Val?" Alex called.

"Two seconds," Val called back. Her voice sounded far away, like she was at the other end of a football field. This bathroom was nice-like the bathroom in a fancy hotel suite-but not insane like Val's other place. Maybe the excess here was saved for the closet.

She heard Val shut the closet door and glanced up; she felt a brief jolt of shock at the change, then nodded.

"That looks about right," she approved.

"Thanks," Val replied. "Some parts of being a spy I could handle."

The outfit Val was wearing was not inconspicuous. She had on a long flowy dress kind of thing that covered her from chin to wrist to floor, similar to a sari, but with more coverage; it had scarf-like pieces that cascaded around her, obscuring the shape of her body. It looked like something straight off an avant-garde runway, and probably was. It was memorable. But from behind, all you could see about her body was that she was tall. She wore a thick, dark wig with corkscrew curls that jutted out wildly in every direction. It, too, called attention at the same time that it obscured the shape of her head and covered parts of her face. With the wide-framed black sungla.s.ses she held in her hand, she would be well hidden.

"Shall we?" Val asked.

Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

ALEX PARKED VAL'S tacky green Jaguar at a meter on the hill overlooking a large, dingy-gray concrete office block. Val had insisted on the green car-a gift from another admirer, naturally. It was the one, she said, that she wouldn't miss if she had to submerge it in a lake.

From this angle, Alex could see the entrance to the underground parking garage. It was kind of sad, actually, that Carston had never moved to a better office. Maybe he liked the depressing surroundings. Maybe it seemed appropriate to the job and he liked things to conform. Making things easier for Alex had probably not been on his agenda, but it was nice it had worked out this way.

She and Val sat in the Jag for more than an hour, Val getting out to feed the meter once. They didn't talk; Alex's mind was miles away, working overtime to think through the flaws in her plan and try to fix them insofar as that was possible. There was so much that had to be left up to chance; she hated chance.

Alex imagined Val's mind was in Beijing. It was a good place to run to. Val might even be safe there. Alex wished she and Daniel were getting on a plane to Beijing right now.

Daniel probably wasn't enjoying the wait any more than she was. He'd be at the park now, nothing to fill his time until Alex arrived, no way to know what was happening. At least she had Val to sit with, even if neither of them was very good company at the moment.

Finally there was movement below, and she sat up straighter. The white-and-red-striped arm at the mouth of the garage was rising to let someone out. The last two alarms had both been delivery trucks, but this time a dark sedan was pulling out of the garage. Alex started the engine and rolled out onto the street. Someone honked behind her, but she didn't spare him a glance. She didn't take her eyes off the car. From this distance, it appeared to match Carston's black BMW. It was only just after four o'clock now, not quite time for government employees to be heading out.

Here was the first big chance. Once Erin Carston-Boyd was sure her daughter was missing, she would have called her father in a panic. Right? She knew he had some kind of important government job. She would consider him powerful and capable. She wouldn't rely on just the police with her daughter kidnapped. Should it have taken this long? When Alex had last been able to check, no call had come and Carston was still in his office. Managing Kevin's interrogation, no doubt.

She thought he would head to his daughter's side. It seemed the only response. But what if Carston had other options? What if he sent a special ops team instead? Was he that cold? If he had to be... probably yes.

But surely Deavers could manage the interrogation by himself for a few hours. Right?

Alex's driving was much more offensive than defensive as she weaved her way forward, refusing to stop for even the pinkest of yellow lights. She knew the two best routes from Carston's office to the zoo, where she a.s.sumed Erin's call had come from. Would the terrified mother leave the last place she'd seen her daughter before she was positive the child wasn't hiding somewhere in the foliage? If the call came from a police station, of which there were several possible options, Carston could take a number of different routes.

So many things left to chance.

The BMW was heading down the correct street, the one she would have chosen as the quickest route to the zoo. He was driving a little erratically as well. She carefully moved up from behind two other cars. She didn't want to spook him.

It was the right car. The plates matched. It looked like the back of Carston's mostly bald head.

Alex watched for eyes in the rearview mirror, but he seemed to be focused on the road. She maneuvered into the parallel lane.

She supposed she should feel better that this part was going according to plan. But it felt like someone was drilling a wide hole into the bottom of her stomach; she thought she might gag as she pulled alongside his car. Because if this part worked, that meant she had to go forward with the rest of the plan.

The light turned yellow ahead. Cars streamed through, but Carston was slowing. He knew he was too far back to make it. The car in front of him braked, too. Alex could have pulled up to the line in her lane-the car in front of her had turned right. Instead, she stopped directly beside Carston.

She waved, her face pointed straight toward his profile. The motion was deliberately large, meant to catch his peripheral vision.

Carston glanced over automatically at the movement, his mind clearly far away, worry making a crinkled mess of his forehead. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing. In that instant of shock, before he could smash down the accelerator, pull a gun, or dial a number, she held up the phone in her hand. She had the image zoomed in on the girl's sleeping face.

He locked down his expression as the facts began falling into place.

Quickly, she hopped out of her car and reached for the pa.s.senger door of his. She didn't look back to watch Val slide over into the driver's seat, but she heard the door close behind her. Alex waited with her fingers on the BMW's pa.s.senger-door handle until she heard the locks click open. She climbed in next to him. The whole wordless exchange had taken less than two seconds. The cars behind them might be curious, but they would probably forget the transfer by the next light.

"Turn left," she told Carston as Val went right and headed east. The Jag disappeared around the corner.

Carston was quick to recover. He put on his blinker and pulled across the left lane, nearly hitting the van headed through the light. Alex took his phone out of the cup holder, powered it down, and shoved it in her pocket.

"What do you want?" he asked. His voice sounded calm, but she could hear the strain in his lack of inflection.

"I need your help."

He took a moment to digest that.

"Turn right at the next corner."

He complied carefully. "Who is your partner?"

"Someone for hire. Not your concern."

"I really believed you were dead this time."

Alex didn't respond.

"What have you done to Livvy?"

"Nothing permanent. Yet."

"She's only three." His voice quavered uncharacteristically.

She turned to give him an incredulous look, which was wasted, as he never glanced away from the road in front of them. "Really? You expect me to care about civilians at this point?"

"She's done nothing to you."

"What did three innocent people in Texas do to you, Carston? Never mind," she said when he opened his mouth to answer. "That was obviously rhetorical."

"What do you want from me?"

"Kevin Beach."

There was another long pause as he rearranged things in his mind.

"You're going to turn left at the next block," she instructed.

"How did you..." He shook his head. "I don't have him. The CIA does."

"I know who has him. And I know Deavers is following your direction in his interrogation," she bluffed. "Your specialist is the one leading the case. I'm sure you know where they're working on him."

He stared stone-faced through the windshield.

"I don't understand what is happening," he muttered.

"Let's talk about what you do understand, then," Alex said in a bleak voice. "Of course you remember a little concoction Barnaby and I created for you called Deadline."

His pasty skin started to mottle, blotches of puce blooming on his cheeks and neck. She held her phone out and his eyes flickered to it automatically. The photo was back to its original size now, and the IV hooked into his granddaughter's arm was conspicuously in the foreground. There was a saline bag, the nutrition bag, and a smaller, dark green bag attached underneath it.

He stared at the photo for one long second, then his eyes were back on the road.

"How long?" he asked through his teeth.

"I was generous. Twelve hours. One hour has pa.s.sed. This operation shouldn't take more than four, at most. Then Livvy is delivered safely back to her mother, no worse for wear."

"And I'm dead?"

"I'll be honest, the odds aren't good that either of us makes it through unscathed. A lot is riding on your acting abilities, Carston. Lucky for you, we both know how convincing you can be."

"What happens if, through no fault of mine, you die?"

"Bad luck for Livvy. And her mother, for that matter. Things have been set in motion. If you care about your family, you'll do your very, very best to get me out alive."

"You could be bluffing. You were never this cold-blooded."

"Policies change. People change. Shall I share a secret?"

She gave him a moment to respond, but he just stared straight ahead with his jaw locked.

"Kevin Beach wasn't in Texas when Deavers sent the kill squad. I was." She let those two words hang in the air for a moment before she went on. Carston wasn't the only one with acting abilities. "I'm not the person you used to know, Carston. You'd be surprised at the things I'm capable of now. Take the next right."

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish here."

"Let's get down to it," Alex said. "Where is Kevin?"

Carston didn't hesitate. "He's in a facility west of the city. It used to be a CIA interrogation suite, but they haven't used it in years. Officially, it's abandoned."

"The address?"

He listed it from memory without a pause.

"What kind of security?"

He glanced over, his eyes studying her for a second before he responded. "I don't have that information. But knowing Deavers, it's more than is necessary. He'll go overboard. He's terrified of Kevin Beach. That's why he came up with the whole charade with the brother. No risk, that's what he called it." Carston chuckled once. It was a bitter sound, in no way amused.

"Does he know my face?"

Carston's eyes jerked to her in surprise. "You're going in?"

"Will he recognize me?" she demanded. "How much of my file did he see? Did you show him the footage from the Metro?"