"You from around here?" Riley asked.
"No. I used to work this area, though, when I was first assigned to the force." Giannini took a large bite of her sandwich. Riley was amused to see Merrit dubiously eyeing the massive amount of bread and cold cuts.
"How long have you been a cop?" Riley asked.
"Fourteen years."
"Like it?"
Giannini cocked an eyebrow at Riley and answered with her mouth full. "You writing a book or what? It's a job." She swallowed. "Yeah, I like it. Makes each day interesting. I'd go crazy if I had to get up every morning and do the same shit every single day." She turned to Merrit. "So, Doc. Any idea where your killers might've gone? You've been awfully quiet."
"They've found a place to hide," Merrit said.
"Yeah?" Giannini shook her head. "Doing what? They got to eat, don't they? And what're they waiting for? Do they need money? Maybe they're looking for a job. Maybe they're ripping people off. You haven't given us shit to work with. All you want us to do is tell you if anything unusual happens. Yet we just wasted a morning walking around the streets looking for God knows what. You must have some idea what you're looking for." She turned back to Riley. "How about giving us a description of your suspects other than that they're wearing animal skins."
For the briefest moment, Riley was tempted to chuck it all and tell her. He remembered his bitterness about not being told himself, yet here he was doing the exact same thing.
"We don't have anything more than that," he said quietly.
"Bullshit!" Giannini spat out, slamming her sandwich on the table. "Then what the hell is she doing?" she asked, pointing at Merrit. "Making a psych profile out of thin air?"
"I'm… I'm basing it on the crime scenes," Merrit stammered. "I'm tracking their actions and trying to get an idea of who we're after."
"I told you I've been on this job for fourteen years, and I've never been involved with something as weird as this," Giannini said. "The chief may have bought off on all this crap for his own reasons, and that's fine and dandy, but that don't mean I have to. I checked with my source in the FBI and he says there's no Special Agent Riley listed in his computer. I called the coroner's office and they told me the bodies of the Sattler brothers were taken away by people from the federal government and they have no idea where they are now. There wasn't even an autopsy."
Giannini leaned forward. "So who are you and what's going on? And don't give me any of your supersecret federal bullshit. That stuff only works in the movies. I'm a cop and this is my city and you're fucking with it."
Riley hadn't moved the entire time she was speaking. When she ran out of steam he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "I'm not going to give you any bullshit, all right? If I tell you what's really going on, it's not going to be like in the movies, because the people you're dealing with don't play games and don't make speeches. They could kill us both. You've got fourteen years being a cop; well, I've got quite a few years playing another game altogether and it's got its own set of rules. I didn't make the goddamn rules and I don't like them and sometimes I don't even see a reason for them, but that doesn't mean I can just do whatever I please.
"There's a price to everything. You should know that — you're a cop. You break the law and you pay the price. If I tell you what's really going on — since you obviously know that the cover story is bullshit — then you'd damn well better be ready to pay the price when the hammer comes down." He opened his denim jacket and pulled up his T-shirt, briefly exposing the puckered skin where high-velocity bullets had exited his body. "I've paid the price before. Are you willing? Are you really willing?"
Giannini's voice was flat. "I'm willing."
Riley stood. "Let's go to the car." They threw the remains of their lunch in the garbage and made their way to the police car. A cable TV van had blocked them in while the workers were playing out cable into an open manhole. Giannini had to get the truck to move before they could pull into the traffic.
"Find someplace to park and Doctor Merrit will tell you about what we're after."
Giannini parked underneath the elevated highway and, with the roar of traffic overhead, Merrit begin relating in a monotone the story of the Synbats from inception to breakout. Riley picked up the action from there until arriving in Chicago. When he was done, Giannini stared at him. "If it wasn't for seeing those bodies in that trailer, I'd be looking around for Candid Camera right now. This is the craziest stuff I've ever heard." She blinked. "You're not bullshitting me, are you?"
Riley shook his head. "No."
The detective slumped back in the car seat. "Holy shit," she muttered. She stayed silent for a few moments before finally turning back to Riley. "So, you're army, Special Forces?"
Riley nodded.
"And these things beat you and your men down there in that park?"
Riley nodded reluctantly.
"Then how the hell do you expect to catch them up here?"
"Because we didn't know what we were up against in Tennessee. I was lied to, just as you were lied to by me. And that's why I'm telling you the truth now. My men are here in the city. First sign of the Synbats, we're going in hard."
"First sign will probably be some dead bodies, if what you say about these things is true," Giannini said.
"I know that," Riley replied.
The lieutenant turned to Merrit. "You made these things?"
Merrit didn't hear her; she was lost in her own thoughts. Giannini repeated the question.
"I was part of the team that developed them."
"Jesus Christ!" Giannini exploded. "What the hell were you thinking when you did that?"
Merrit turned away and stared out the window. "I'll pay for it," she whispered.
"That's not the issue right now," Riley interceded. "The fact is that the Synbats were created and they're out here in the city somewhere."
Giannini sighed and sank back in the driver's seat, peering out the windshield. "All right. I can't tell anyone that I know this, right?"
"If you do, you'll be out of circulation as soon as Lewis finds out," Riley said.
Giannini considered that for a few moments, then switched tack. "You think the gorilla that stole the shopping cart might've been one of your creatures?"
"It's possible," Riley answered. "It's also possible that the man was just drunk."
"What would they want a shopping cart for?"
"I don't know," Riley said. "But I guess we'll find out. Sooner or later they'll kill, and you'll hear about it. Then we go in and nail them."
Giannini looked at him. "And what if you don't? Huh? What if you don't get them, and they multiply?"
"We'll get them," Riley insisted.
"Uh-huh."
Outside the windows dusk was settling over the city. Riley had dropped off Merrit at the command center an hour ago and checked in with Lewis. They'd found no sign of the Synbats during their daylight covert search. Riley had continued on down to police headquarters on State Street. Giannini greeted him with the news that there was no news.
"I've checked everything. Nothing that could be your creatures." Giannini looked up at Riley from the police reports. "Let me ask you something."
"What?" Riley replied warily.
"The feds lied to you — just like you lied to me, until I got on your case. Now you're up here trying to clean up this big pile of shit these same people laid in your lap." She rubbed a hand wearily across her forehead. "And you said you've been doing this for a long time and this isn't the first time you've been involved in something like this. Right?"
"Yeah," Riley admitted.
"So why are you doing it?" Giannini demanded. "Why are you doing this? I don't know you, but I get feelings about people. You have to, to be a good soldier. And I feel that you're a good person. You wouldn't have told me what's going on if you weren't. So why are you still doing it?"