I move over to the bed. Oscar stands and steps to the side so I can see all the weaponry laid out behind him. There is a lot of firepower! I pick up a suppressed handgun. It’s a Beretta, similar to my old ones but not as cool. I regard it in my hand for a moment and then turn and take aim at Matthews.
“Give me your cell.”
I hold out my hand, and he reaches inside his pocket, takes out his phone, and hands it to me.
I look down at it. It’s turned off, like he said. “What’s the security code?”
“Four, seven, eight, two.”
“Thanks. Now, is there anything else you think I should know? Anything else that might help us stop this?”
He shakes his head. “It’s all in the case. Just, please, promise me you will stop him.”
“Oh, you’ve got my word on that, General.”
I pull the trigger, and a split-second later, Matthews’ head snaps back. A deep crimson sprays across the wall behind him. He slumps forward and falls to the side.
I look at Ruby and Oscar in turn. Neither of them says anything.
“Pack everything up, including his briefcase.” I hand the gun to Oscar. “I’m sorry about this, but you’re here, which means you’re part of the fight now. I need all the help I can get. I’d give you the ‘if you want out, now’s your chance’ speech, but there’s no point. There is no out, understand? You grab a gun, and you don’t stop shooting until everyone’s dead. Whether that’s us or them, that’s for fate to decide. But this is it. We’re gonna lay low here until the morning. As soon as Jonas arrives, we’re leaving town.”
“You gonna tell us the plan?” asks Ruby.
“Once we’re all together, yeah.”
She smiles. “Groovy.”
Oscar hangs his head. “Shit…”
23
We gathered our things and found an empty suite one floor down. We broke in and spent the night, though no one slept much. We just sat, mostly in silence, watching the TV. I worked my way through the documents in Matthews’ briefcase, mostly to keep my mind occupied.
I contacted Jonas and left him an update. While it was good The European was finally dead, I had to assume our hotel was compromised. If he had been working for the powers that be and he managed to find us, chances are they know where we are, too. I told Jonas to meet us in the short-term parking lot of the Atlantic City airport.
We commandeered a Mercedes saloon car from the lot at Caesar’s and headed there, stopping briefly on the way for breakfast. We’re currently parked nose first in a space not far from the entrance to the airport, anonymous in a sea of vehicles patiently waiting their owners’ return.
Oscar’s standing next to the car, leaning against the driver’s door with his arms folded across his chest. Ruby’s still inside, stretched across the back seat with her eyes closed. I’m not sure she’s actually asleep, though. She’s holding her shoulder, which I know is still giving her grief. I’m sitting on the hood with my leg resting up on it. The warmth of the engine is providing some relief from the pain and stiffness in my knee — a result of my run-in with The European last night.
I’ve got the flash drive in my hand, spinning it absently between my finger and thumb. All this time, I’ve been hoping the information on this drive would cause people enough concern that it might keep me alive long enough to stop Cunningham, but it turns out it barely scratches the surface.
North Korea is still invading most of the eastern hemisphere. The assault has been relentless, according to the news reports we’ve watched and heard. Even the most naive of us can see this had to have been planned months, or even years, in advance. It’s too slick, too coordinated… Cunningham’s a real sonofabitch, and the more I think about how he’s played us all, the more I blame myself for not stopping this sooner. First it was Cerberus, now the Koreans… I’m sick of arriving at the party too fucking late.
Well that ends right now.
“Heads-up,” says Oscar.
I look back at him over my shoulder, and he gestures to my left with his head. There’s a car approaching, and even from where I’m standing I recognize Jonas’ squat frame behind the wheel.
Oscar moves along the side of the car and stops next to the trunk. I follow him and knock on the window as I pass. Ruby sits up, instantly awake and aware.
“Showtime,” I say.
She nods and climbs out, and we form a loose line by the Mercedes. The car slows to a stop next to us, and Jonas gets out.
He regards each of us in turn with an expressionless gaze before stretching his arms and back. He idly glances around the parking lot and looks up as a plane takes off nearby. He watches it climb until the noise is barely audible.
He looks at me and gestures to my bruised cheek. “So… how’s it going?”
I shrug. “Oh, we’ve been having a blast… You good?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He looks at the others. “This the rest of the team?”
I nod. “Yeah, this is Ruby DeSouza…” She nods at him, a gesture he returns. “And this is my arms dealer, Oscar.”
“Arms dealer, huh? This doesn’t sound like your usual gig…”
Oscar smiles humorlessly and casts an unhappy glance at me. “It’s not.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “Forgive ol’ Oscar here — he’s always a little cranky before lunch. Come on, we need to make tracks. You can put your car in our space, we’ll take our ride.”
He nods. “Okay. You figured out a plan yet?”
“I have. I’ll tell you on the way.”
Oscar’s driving, and we’re coasting along Route 40 toward I-295, which will take us into Wilmington, Delaware. I asked Ruby where her friend lives — the one who put together the body wrap she wore just before she was committed to Stonebanks. That needs to be our first call.
Ruby’s up front, staring straight ahead in a kind of trance. I think she’s psyching herself up or something. There’s a very somber atmosphere in the car. No one has ever experienced a global war before. I fought in Desert Shield, but that wasn’t on the same scale as World War II, for example. What’s happening now… all this… is. And the real kicker is that because of 4/17, the North Koreans are just walking in and doing what they damn well please. It’s a very worrying time. Even though we know the fighting is on the other side of the world, we can’t help looking up every now and then to see if there are any planes overhead waiting to drop bombs on us. The people not directly under attack are slowly being crushed by their own paranoia. The scenes on the news say it all — it’s chaos.
I do have complete faith in Josh and GlobaTech, don’t get me wrong. They have a ridiculous amount of manpower and technology, but at the end of the day they’re essentially one company — not an army, a company—fighting an entire nation. And Cunningham’s played it just right so the United States doesn’t look bad for not getting involved, because GlobaTech has been billed as the savior for everyone — thanks to the president’s marketing machine.
I’ve brought Jonas up to speed on everything, in light of us getting Matthews’ paperwork. I think it actually opened his eyes to the scope of this thing. When we first spoke back in New Hampshire, he seemed skeptical that anyone would do this for reasons other than money and fame, but now I think he gets that this is about more than just a big payday.
I guess now is as good a time as any to tell them my big idea. This should cheer them up…
“Okay everyone, listen up.” I shift slightly in my seat behind Oscar. Ruby turns around so she’s facing the rest of us. Beside me, Jonas looks across patiently. “This is what’s going to happen. First, we stop off at Wilmington and get some disguises from Ruby’s friend. I’ve seen this person’s work firsthand,” I glance at Ruby, who smiles, “and it’s brilliant. We’re not talking any extreme Mrs. Doubtfire shit — we’re going to get a little makeover in order to conceal our features enough to buy us a little more freedom once we hit the capital.”