The jets veered skyward again. He had fooled the missile, but not the pilots. They knew he was still alive.
And King was out of moves.
# # #
The Sukhoi fighters needed only one more pass. The pilots were relatively inexperienced, but they were learning from their mistakes. The engagement had already lasted longer than either man expected; now it was time to finish it decisively.
The helicopter was descending again, its operator evidently desperate to land before the next missile blew him out of the sky. The pilot of the lead Su-25 decided not to give him that chance. He changed the targeting selector on the missile’s guidance system to visual, put the helicopter in the crosshairs, and thumbed the launch button.
The R-73 missile, NATO designation AA-11 Archer, dropped away from the wing and shot through the sky at Mach 2.5. The pilot kept his targeting sight on the fleeing aircraft until, a few seconds later, both the missile and the helicopter exploded in a ball of smoke and flaming debris.
Sigler is dead.
›››Understood. What is your status?
I’m back in Addis. I have Sara Fogg and Felice Carter with me. Fogg believes that Carter can infect others by some unknown vector. We’ll need to keep her isolated.
›››Transportation will be arranged. Bring the women to the Brainstorm facility.
Are you sure that’s a good idea?
›››Your inquiry is irrelevant. It is the only logical course of action. The vaccine must be developed. The facility has been upgraded to ensure the highest probability of success in accomplishing that goal.
ENDGAME
24.
Unknown Location
See that ball of fire down there? That’s your boyfriend.
Fulbright’s gleeful pronouncement still echoed in Sara’s ears. She had kept a brave face, denying the rogue CIA agent the pleasure of watching her cry. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to believe him.
That was, she knew, the first stage of grief: denial.
As an intellectual matter, she did believe him but her heart wasn’t ready to deal with it just yet. There would be time for tears later, if she survived.
A Gulfstream V jet had been waiting for them at the private airfield used by the contracted commandos. Still unconscious from the sedative injection, Felice had been buckled into one of the rear seats, while Sara had been allowed to sit where she pleased, but always under Fulbright’s watchful eye. How long they flew, she could not say, but when they arrived at their destination, it was mid-morning, and the physical environment did not seem that much different than the place they had just left.
A fit but pale-looking middle-aged man got out of a dark green Range Rover and greeted them as they descended from the jet. His hair was gray, but Sara couldn’t tell if he was in his late forties or his early seventies. When he approached and introduced himself, Sara got the impression that it was as much for Fulbright’s benefit as for Sara’s.
“I’m Graham,” he said, affably. “I kind of keep things running around here.”
“Just take us to Brainstorm,” Fulbright answered impatiently.
“As you like.” Graham chuckled then turned to Sara and extended a hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss…?”
Sara narrowed her eyes, appraisingly. Despite his attempt at charm, Graham-was that his first or last name?-had given her no reason to think he was anything but another villain in Brainstorm’s employ. “It’s ‘doctor,’ actually. Dr. Sara Fogg.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard wonderful things about you, Dr. Fogg. I think you’ll be pleased with the research facility here.”
“I’ll be pleased when I’m not being held prisoner.”
Graham inclined his head. “Touche. I do hope that, in time, you will see that benefit of the work you will do here far outstrips the sacrifices you have made.”
“I’m not the only one who was sacrificed.”
If Graham heard her muttered comment, he chose not to acknowledge it.
# # #
The main house-what Fulbright had called the ‘Brainstorm facility’-was a palatial two-story villa that might have been transplanted from the south of France or the Catalina hills of California. Sara was escorted to a luxurious private room where Graham invited her to “freshen up” and join him for a meal if she was so inclined. A closet full of clothes, ranging in style from dress casual to blue jeans and T-shirts-all of them clothes that she might have purchased for herself, every garment the correct size-was provided, and the bathroom was stocked with her favorite brands of toiletries. Someone had been doing their homework.
No demands were made of her, but there was little question that she was a prisoner. Nevertheless, she took advantage of the chance to shower away the residue of her plunge into the Indian Ocean and the general grime of days spent in the field.
As the hot water cascaded down on her shoulders, she pondered her next move. Things were so much clearer in Jack’s world. If you were captured, you would fight back, resist, try to escape or confound your enemy’s goals in any way possible. But it was different for her. Yes, she wanted to escape, but she could not afford to so easily dismiss what her captor was attempting. Even if she was being lied to, even if they were secretly trying to turn the discovery into a weapon, the opportunity to do research on the contagion and to find a way to counteract it, was not something she could easily pass up.
It was the best way she had to fight back, resist, and confound her enemy’s goals.
The door was locked from the outside, but as soon as she knocked, it popped open revealing an empty hallway. As she stepped into the hall, Graham appeared on the staircase landing, midway down the hall. “This way, Dr. Fogg. Lunch is already set.”
The kitchen furnishings, like everything else in the house, were modern, giving the whole place the feel of being on a space station designed by a 1950’s science fiction writer. She found Fulbright seated at the oval-shaped glass dining table, pensively eating a sandwich.
“I can only provide light fare right now,” Graham apologized. “But I promise dinner will be superb. I don’t get the chance to entertain here very often, so I will be pulling out all the stops.”
“I’d hate for you to go to any trouble,” Sara replied, with undisguised sarcasm.
Fulbright looked up at her, but said nothing.
“No trouble at all.” Graham elected to ignore the venom. “There’s no reason your stay here has to be unpleasant.”
“That sounds like something he might say.” Sara jerked a thumb at the rogue CIA officer. “As a threat,” she added.
“Please understand, Dr. Fogg. You have important work to do here. Work that will benefit us all; the entire human race.”
Sara settled into a chair and started assembling a sandwich from a plate of assorted cold-cuts and cheeses. “Fine,” she said at length. “I’ll play along, but I can’t have you telling me how to do my research. You need to give me whatever I ask for.”
“Within reason, of course.”
“First, I want you to stop sedating Felice Carter.”
Fulbright looked up sharply. “Weren’t you paying attention back there? She can infect people, maybe without even thinking about it. If she feels the least bit threatened…” He snapped his fingers. “Poof, we’re mindless drones.”
“That’s exactly why I need her awake and alert. Just because she’s unconscious doesn’t mean that her fear response is turned off. She needs to know that she isn’t in any danger. I can explain that to her. More importantly, I need to be able to talk to her in order to figure this thing out. The answers are all in her head.”
Graham was about to say something, but was interrupted by a buzzing noise from his pocket. He took out a smart phone and looked at the display for a moment, then tapped a few keys and put it away. “I’m sorry. Unrelated business. With respect to your request, Dr. Fogg, I certainly think we can accommodate you if you feel it’s that important. I trust you will take all the necessary precautions.”