“No one can take my sunshine away.”
And what if the DAR wasn’t the only group who wanted the serum? Another thing he’d never thought of until Amy laid him out. The value of their discovery was literally incalculable. Controlling it would be like holding a patent on the wheel. No wonder Abe had been so rigid about his nondisclosures, his loose-lips-sink-ships policy. The problem was that Abe hadn’t gone nearly far enough. They should have been operating in perfect secrecy on some remote Pacific island.
If the DAR knew about their work, maybe the Children of Darwin would too. Plus their mysterious backer, whose deep pockets had financed the lab in the first place. Ethan had always suspected that might be Erik Epstein—who else would benefit so highly?—which meant he and Abe had been working for a rogue state currently surrounded by American troops.
All those forces arrayed against him, and here he was huddling in a cabin, waiting for the sky to fall and crush him. Not to mention his wife and daughter. Because of what Ethan had done.
No, that was imprecise. It wasn’t because of what he’d done. It was because of what he knew. The difference was important. The former was about punishment for a sin already committed. Nothing to be done about that.
But if people were after him for what he knew . . . well. That made things clearer.
Ethan focused on his wife and daughter. Amy was gazing down at Violet, a faint smile on her lips. A knit blanket draped her shoulders, and the fire wrapped them both in soft flickering light. His daughter’s tiny hand clenched his wife’s index finger. What wouldn’t he do to protect them?
“No one can take my sunshine away.”
He’d have to act soon. Every moment he stayed with them, he put them at risk.
If he was going to leave them, maybe forever, he’d have to act soon. Now.
Ethan was trying to make himself stand up and walk away from everything he loved when he heard a sound that didn’t belong. It wasn’t menacing in its own right, not something he would have noticed under other circumstances. But now it meant the world. Meant, in fact, that the world was ending.
It was the sound of a car door closing.
They were here.
CHAPTER 42
“I’m not convinced.”
Secretary of Defense Owen Leahy stared across the coffee table at the president of the United States and thought, This can’t be happening again.
“I understand,” Clay continued, “that a military response may be necessary. But I’m not convinced I need to take that step now. Epstein and I are still in discussion.”
“Sir, the situation in Cleveland—”
“I know what’s happening in Cleveland. People are hungry and scared and angry, and they want a quick fix, want to know that payback has been doled out.”
“It’s more than that—”
“Luckily, we live in a republic, which means that they elect us for the exact reason that in a time of crisis, it probably shouldn’t be the victims calling the shots.” Clay stroked his chin. “Attacking the New Canaan Holdfast won’t get blankets or food into Cleveland.”
“It’s not about food and blankets. It’s about the fact that terrorists are operating with impunity on American soil.”
“An attack on the NCH won’t disrupt the Children of Darwin. Intelligence suggests that it’s unlikely they report directly to anyone in the Holdfast.”
All right, enough. Leahy said, “Sir, that’s not the point, and I need you to stop acting like this is a graduate seminar and we’re debating.”
Clay’s eyes flashed. “Excuse me?”
“This isn’t the time for a lecture on the benefits of living in a republic. Do I need to lay it all out for you?”
“What you need to do is watch that tone.”
Leahy almost laughed. For years, simply microchipping the gifted had seemed a difficult enough goal. Now there was the opportunity to do so much more. He had no intention of letting Clay’s soft sensibilities get in the way of that.
And every normal in America should hit their knees and thank us for it. Because our work, unsavory as it may be, is all that is protecting their children.
“Now, if that’s all . . .”
“It’s not.” Leahy leaned forward, enumerating on his fingers. “Here are the facts. Three cities are under terrorist control. Casualties are in the thousands, property destruction in the hundreds of millions. Faith in the government is the lowest in history. All over the country, people are stockpiling food, hiding in their basements.” That was five, and he switched to his left hand, kept counting. “John Smith is at large in the New Canaan Holdfast. Erik Epstein is a puppet, and we’re not certain for whom. Our intelligence shows that Holdfast technology already outstrips our own. We know they’re manufacturing weapons and funding research labs developing God knows what. And now the American ambassador to the Holdfast has been murdered in public, in front of his family.” He held up all ten fingers. “Do I need to go on?”
“Owen—”
“No, sir. No more discussion, no more thinking it over. For the good of the country, it’s time to act. You have to give the order to attack. You have to do it right—”
“I don’t have to do a goddamn thing.” Clay leaned forward. “I’m the president of the United States. I decide when we attack. If you can’t deal with that, I’ll accept your resignation right now. Do you get me?”
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked off the seconds. Leahy shrugged, said, “I get you.”
“Good.” Clay rose. He turned his back and went to his desk, the dismissal evident.
Ah well. You knew it might come to this. Leahy said, “But you’re only half right.”
The man spun. “Owen, I swear to—”
“You are the president.” Leahy flashed a thin smile. “But you’re not the only one who can order an attack.”
CHAPTER 43
Ethan leapt to his feet. In the opposite chair, Amy startled, joggling Violet. His wife read his face, said, “What is it?”
“Someone’s here. Take Violet into the kitchen.”
She didn’t hesitate, and he loved her for that, for not wasting precious time. His wife was stronger and better than he was. She’d manage without him. He wished he could have told her he loved her, that he could have apologized for bringing this all down on them. But they’d survive, and that was the most important thing.
The revolver was on the side table. The weight that only a week ago had felt so strange in his hands was now comforting. He made sure all six chambers were loaded.
You keep telling yourself you’ll do anything to protect them. Time to prove it.
He slipped to the front door and flattened himself against the wall beside it. The door had a small window with a dusty curtain. Through it the front yard looked as he remembered, dotted with thin trees and carpeted with pine needles. Their stolen truck was parked facing out, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. No sign of another vehicle. Had he been hearing—
Something moved behind the truck bed. Ethan’s chest felt like there wasn’t room for air, and his hands went sweaty. Best to do this fast. If he stalled, he might lose his nerve.
A sharp, short inhale through his nostrils, and then he yanked open the door and came out with the gun up. Cold air and the smell of pine sap, needles crunching underfoot, the gun shaking. Two steps, three, and then he caught another flash of movement, from the other side of the truck; the guy had circled around. Ethan whirled and lined up the sights and pulled the trigger.