He was out with one of his bimbos the night Gia went into labor. Her folks were back in Iowa, she had no close friends, and she still remembered that cab ride to the hospital as the lowest, loneliest moment of her life.
But when the pain was over and she'd cuddled her daughter, the loneliness vanished and the world became a wonderful place.
God, she'd loved that little girl then and loved her more now. In fact she loved being a mother, plain and simple. Even loved being pregnant.
She tried to imagine what it would be like having two children, and wondered for the zillionth time what the new baby would be like. If she—and she couldn't think of her any way but as a she—had only half of Vicky's intelligence and joie de vivre, she'd still be a joy.
The baby gave her a good kick, then another. She'd been pretty active for the past hour or so. Maybe she sensed that her mother was hungry. Gia looked at her watch: 12:30 already.
"Ready for some lunch?"
Vicky looked up from the book. 'This is so funny!"
"Hungry?"
"Yeah. I'm starving. Can we go to Burger King? Pleeeeease?"
"Not today." The thought of burnt meat—blech. "How about Kosher Nosh?"
"But we were there yesterdaaaaay."
Vicky was in full whine mode.
"You can have that hummus and pita platter. You liked it last time."
"Can't I have a cheeseburger?"
"They don't make cheeseburgers there. Remember the hummus? You said it was the best you've ever had."
"Oh, okay. But can I get a big pickle too?"
"You can have two big pickles if you want."
Vicky headed for the cash register. "Let's go!"
Gia followed her with a kicking baby and a watering mouth. Not for the pickles. For herring… pickled herring in sour cream. Yum. She could almost taste it.
13
Cal stepped into the Kosher Nosh and looked around.
The 0 had described the woman and the child and had said they'd be crossing the street shortly after leaving the deli. Cal just wanted to make sure they were where they were supposed to be.
"To eat in or to go?" said the bearded man behind the counter.
Eat? With his stomach feeling like it did? Out of the question.
"Just looking for a friend."
"Look away."
The place was three-quarters full, but he spotted her short blond hair almost immediately. Couldn't tell from here if she was pregnant, but she was sitting with a dark-haired little girl that fit the Oculus's description. The kid was reading to her from a book and they both were laughing.
Cal felt the room sway around him. Mother and daughter—had to be. Out together and enjoying each other.
His legs felt unsteady as he saw what might have been. He grabbed a chair and dropped into it.
That woman… that child… had things been different, had his parents not left him to die in a cold squatter's building, the Twins wouldn't have had to rescue him. He might have had a normal childhood, might have married a woman like that and had a child like that.
This wasn't the first time he'd thought of this, but most times he could lock it away—dreaming about might-have-beens was a form of self-torture. Useless. Destructive.
But today, now, at this moment, he could not sweep them under the rug. He was going to destroy a family.
"Find your friend?" the bearded man said.
Cal shook his head. "No."
He could say no more. He turned and staggered back to the sidewalk.
Miller stood on the corner, waiting.
"They in there?"
Cal nodded. "They're there, but 1 can't do it."
"What?"
"1 can't. I just… can't."
"Shit." Miller spit into the gutter. "You're turning into a real pussy, you know that?"
Cal didn't care what Miller or anyone else—including the Ally—thought, he wasn't getting behind the wheel of that truck.
"Let's just call it off, okay?"
"Call it off? We can't call it off! It was an Alarm, an order straight from the top."
"You sure about that?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, it doesn't feel right. Something's wrong, Miller. It felt wrong when she got the bull's-eye put on her the first time, and it feels even more wrong now. And December—I don't even want to think about December."
Miller's features hardened. "We're soldiers, Davis. We've sworn to follow orders."
"Which means we'd make good little Nazis, right?"
"Don't try that hot-button shit on me."
"Well, why don't we grab her, take her to one of the safe houses, and grill her about her connection to the Otherness?"
"Did the 0 see us grilling her? No, he saw us offing her. So that's what we're gonna do."
"What if there's been a mistake?"
"Shit, Davis. The Ally don't make mistakes. We see only a tiny piece of the picture. These orders come from a source that's got the widescreen view and knows and sees a helluva lot more than we do. We do what needs to be done and we move on. No looking back."
Cal shook his head. "I'm saying it feels wrong."
"Don't matter what you feel. We've got to trust that what's good for the Ally is good for us. We can't do that, we might as well go Home and gather everyone together for a Kool-Aid party."
In the rational part of his mind Cal knew Miller was right: If they started second-guessing the higher wisdom that had recruited them, they'd be ineffective against the Otherness. But emotionally he felt as if he should be protecting that woman and child, not plotting their deaths.
Cal shook his head again. "I can't do it."
Miller leaned into him and spoke through bared teeth. "Then I guess it's up to me, just like it was in December. And if I'd been behind the wheel in November we wouldn't be having this argument. It would have been a done deal. But the 0 said he'd seen Zeklos behind the wheel, so the pussy got the gig. And fucked it up. Well, no more fuck-ups. I'll take the truck, you drive getaway."
He stomped off, leaving Cal standing on the corner.
Cal didn't want to drive getaway either, didn't want to have anything to do with this. In fact, he wanted to go back to that deli and tell the woman to stay put, or stay away from 58th Street, or call an armored car to take her home.
But he didn't.
14
After Jack pressed Zeklos's call button for the second time, a tiny voice came through the mini speaker.
"Who is there?"
Good. He was home.
"Jack. You know, the Heir head. We need to talk."
The door buzzed open and Jack pushed through. Upstairs, on the second floor, he found Zeklos waiting in his apartment doorway.
"I am surprised to see you. Davis told me you were going away."
"Change of plans." He held up a grease-stained White Castle bag. "Hope you're hungry. Burgers and coffee. Best burgers in the world."
Jack meant that. He'd come over by way of the Manhattan Bridge so he could stop at the White Castle on Willoughby. Only about half a dozen stores in the city and Jack knew them all. Gia called them ratburgers, but he loved them. Figured they might be a treat for Zeklos. Nothing like sharing food to lull someone into opening up.
And Jack needed him to open up. What he really wanted to do was hog-tie him and grill him, but he'd learned last Friday night that Zeklos wasn't easily pried. He'd have to be teased open.