“Occupants?”
“Give me a minute,” Dewey said. More typing followed. “A financial group. A pizza place on the bottom floor. Hmm…”
“What?”
“The top two floors are rented to a company called Zodiac, but there’s something fishy.”
“Fishy?” Clark asked.
“Hold your horses.” Dewey typed away, then turned to another folder and clicked on an icon, then more typing. Within seconds, the screen filled with lines and arrows. Thirty seconds later, the movement stopped. “They’re like the other companies.”
“What other companies?” Clark said.
“The companies we investigated last year as part of that thing in Nashville.”
“Huang Lei,” Clark said. “Like the shell companies that Huang Lei owned. Why didn’t you find this one?”
“I didn’t do most of that work,” Dewey said in a squeaky voice. “That was mostly Karen and her friend, Keyla. Besides, this company dates back to the early nineties. It didn’t fit the profile.”
“I need to know everything about this company,” Clark said. “Especially if it is Huang Lei. Call me as soon as you can. I’ve got to brief Eric.”
“Sure, sure,” Dewey said. “There’s always a rush. I get it.”
“Just relax,” Deion’s voice came from behind him.
“I’m relaxed,” John said without turning. “Kara is relaxed. We’re all relaxed.”
Deion took the seat between John and the wall. “Hello, John. Kara.”
Kara leaned over the table and hissed, “You can’t take him. Hasn’t he suffered enough?”
John turned to Deion, who was watching him intently. “Kara didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Oh, please,” Deion said. “You didn’t know about the master tablet. She used Elliot’s credit card to book the flight from Las Vegas to Chicago. We have a video of her holding your hand as you strolled through O’Hare.”
John sighed. Deion was always one step ahead of him. “Is Eric outside?”
Deion shook his head. “I came alone.”
John digested that piece of information. He was far stronger than Deion and briefly considered attacking him.
But…
Deion was quick. More experienced. There was no doubt he had a gun. John had the M11, but Kara was too close. Gunfire would put her in danger, not to mention the restaurant full of old men drinking their morning coffee.
Plus, Deion was tough. He had trained with the Airborne before graduating from the Farm. His time with the CIA’s SOG had taught him all kinds of hand-to-hand combat. He might not be as good as Eric, but he was at least as good as Taylor Martin.
Maybe even as good as Redman.
Before he could speak, their waitress brought Kara’s plate and then turned to Deion. “Are you joining them?”
“Coffee, ma’am. Black.”
“Be right back,” the waitress said. They sat in uncomfortable silence until she returned with Deion’s coffee. “Anything else?”
“No thanks, ma’am. Just going to catch up with my old friends.”
“Sure, hon. If you need anything, let me know.”
The waitress left, and Deion took a sip of his coffee. “Not great, but not bad.”
“What are you going to do?” Kara asked. “He’s dying—”
“I know,” Deion said.
“Then let him go,” Kara said. “He’s paid for his crimes. How can you do this?”
Deion grunted. “Remember the weave? I do. You said he should suffer a fate worse than death.”
John opened his mouth, but Kara beat him to it. “The man sitting next to you didn’t blow up the Red Cross!”
“He did,” Deion said, “and… he didn’t. I didn’t want to see it at first, but I actually agree. John isn’t the same person that killed all those children.”
It was the last thing he’d expected from Deion. Deion was the hard-ass who always pushed him, who always watched him with a wary eye. “Thank you.”
Deion shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I mean it.”
John took a sip of his bitter coffee. His hand shook, and he spilled a few drops down the front of his shirt. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”
Deion glanced down at the table and whispered, “Nope.”
“What?” Kara said. “You’re still going to…”
“I don’t have much choice,” Deion said. “He’s a trained killer with a billion dollars’ worth of R&D in him. You think I can just let him go? You think Steeljaw is gonna let him go?”
“Eric’s not a bad man—” Kara started.
“You’re fooling yourself,” Deion said. “Eric is goal-oriented. It’s what’s kept him alive. He’ll do what he’s got to do. That means taking care of John.”
“You mean killing me,” John said.
“You shouldn’t have left the base,” Deion said. Before Kara could speak, he held up his hand. “I understand, Kara. I get it. John wants to die free. It’s not going to happen. Just like he can’t go back and stop himself from killing those kids.”
“You’re not going to kill him here,” Kara said. “Not inside the restaurant. Not outside in the parking lot, either. That’s too messy.”
“We’re returning to base,” Deion said. “A Gulfstream is waiting in Columbus. We’ll go back…”
“And what?” Kara asked.
“Eric will do what he feels he has to do.”
“This can’t be happening,” Kara said. “I’ll beg. Please!”
“Hush,” John said. “You’ve done too much already.” He turned to Deion. “Is Eric going to lock her up and throw away the key?”
Deion chewed at his lip. “Can’t say. I mean, in my opinion, she ain’t done nothing that can’t be forgiven. That’s what I’m going to tell Eric. Nancy might be a different matter.”
“She will want me dead,” Kara muttered.
Deion’s mouth opened and closed. “Nancy wants a lot of people dead. Steeljaw has the final say, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”
John doubted that. If Nancy wanted her dead, she would put the bullet in her brain herself and to hell with the consequences. “Can Kara finish her breakfast?”
Deion blinked. “I’m going to drink my coffee. When I’m done, we’re leaving.”
Kara started to argue, but John pointed at her scrambled eggs. “There’s no fighting it, Kara, and that’s… okay. Just eat. I want to watch you eat. It may be the last thing I ever do in the real world. Please?”
Kara stared at him and tears rolled from her eyes. She finally nodded, took her fork, and picked at her eggs. She looked up and started to speak, but he shook his head and pointed to the plate. “Better try the bacon.”
She bit into a piece of bacon, chewed it, then washed it down with coffee.
They continued like that until the plate was nearly empty, then Deion put down his empty cup and said, “Time to go.”
They stood and Kara grabbed the check and followed Deion to the front. They stopped in front of the register, and Deion took the check from her. “I’ll pay,” he murmured. “It’s the least I can do.”
Huang Lei read through the stories popping up on CNN and Fox News about the OTM data disclosure. The public was outraged, and the online response was livid.
Members of the House and Senate were frantically releasing statements, and there were rumors of special prosecutors and investigations into the president, his abuse of power, and the shadowy organization that had been a thorn in Huang Lei’s side since his frustrated attempt to unleash his virus on the United States.
Even better, the news sites were filling with comments questioning the government. Conspiracy theories ran rampant.