Simple Genius

Alicia was carried alongside the deck and into some chairs at the other end of the pool. The three armored men were knocked unconscious when they collided with the stone fireplace.

As soon as the silo emptied out Sean sloughed through the knee-high but rapidly receding water toward Alicia. “Sorry about the tsunami,” he called out. “It was the only thing I could think of.” As he drew closer he realized something was wrong.

Alicia was clutching at her prosthetic, writhing in pain.

He ran forward and knelt down next to her. “Alicia, what is it?”

She moaned, “When the water hit me. It feels like a piece of steel is wedged in the top of my thigh. I can’t walk.”

“Oh damn!” Sean examined the leg. The next thing, he was tumbling headfirst into the pool water. His skull felt like it had been cracked. He settled down on the bottom of the shallow end and then propelled himself back to the surface. As soon as he did something settled around his neck and was pulled tight. He instinctively grabbed for whatever it was, but it was imbedded so tightly in his neck already that his fingers couldn’t reach it. He looked behind him.

Alicia had a garrote around his neck. She was strangling him.

He couldn’t breathe; his eyes were bulging out of his head. He tried to throw her off, but she wrapped her good leg around his middle and pulled on the cord with all her might. In a panic, he swung his fists behind him, trying to hit her, but missed. He aimed a punch at the leg wrapped around him, but she kicked him in the back with her other leg knocking the wind out of him. He toppled forward into the water, carrying her on his back. Yet unlike him Alicia was able to draw a deep breath. His brain was about to burst and the damn cord kept tightening. He had to take a breath. He felt himself failing. His body was shutting down.

Help me, Michelle. Help me, I’m dying. But Michelle wasn’t here.

And then like a miracle the pressure was gone from around his neck. And then so was the weight of Alicia. In a second he erupted out of the pool, taking huge breaths and retching in the water.

“Come on!”

His bursting brain could barely understand the words. Yes, it was Michelle; she’d gotten here in time to rescue him. She was safe. Safe!

“Now!” the hand grabbed him roughly.

He looked up into the face. Ian Whitfield stared back at him. Lying unconscious on the concrete pool surround was Alicia.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” the head of Camp Peary urged as he hauled up Sean.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sean managed to say, coughing up water and rubbing at his torn-up neck.

“No time to talk. Just move. This place is crawling with people.”

“Yeah, your people, you sonofabitch.”

“Not tonight they’re not. They’re two squads of paramilitary from the camp and they don’t report to me. Come on!”

Whitfield fast limped toward the gap between Hut Number Three and the main garage.

Sean hesitated for an instant. He looked down at Alicia. The paperweight she’d slugged him with was lying beside her. She’d tried to kill him. But why? The next second he heard cries coming from behind him. He ran off and joined Whitfield, who was crouched down next to a tree.

“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Sean demanded in a weak, scratchy voice.

“Not now,” Whitfield snapped. He pulled a pistol from his belt and handed it to Sean while he picked up an MP5 he’d obviously hidden behind the bush earlier. “If you have to use it, make it a head shot. The body armor they’re wearing will stop any pistol ammo.”

“Where are we trying to get to?”

“I’ve got a boat tied up about two hundred yards down from the dock.”

“Aren’t they patrolling the water?”

“Yes, but once we get to the boat I’ll hide you under some tarp. When they see it’s me, they won’t bother us.”

“Let’s go then.”

Whitfield put up a hand. “Not so fast. I’ve seen the grid search they have in place. As soon as they clear one area we enter it. We’ll work our way backward to the river.”

“Where’s Michelle?”

“No clue.”

“She was under the truck when it left Camp Peary.”

Whitfield looked stunned for a moment and then his features turned grim. “Shit.”

“Was it heroin they brought in on that plane? And the Arabs? Who were they?”

Whitfield brandished his weapon threateningly. “Look, King, I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation about jackshit. I’m here to save your neck and maybe right a few wrongs. Don’t make me reconsider my decision.”

CHAPTER 85

MICHELLE DITCHED THE MERCEDES before hitting the main road leading to Babbage Town and struck out through the woods to the river with Viggie in tow. On the drive over Viggie had explained how someone had come into her bedroom and pressed something against her face. The next thing she knew she was tied up and in the back of the plane.

Before plunging into the woods Michelle saw a stream of black Suburbans hurtling down the road to Babbage Town; Merkle Hayes’s police cruiser was leading the procession. At least the cavalry was here.