Текст книги "Black Sun"

Автор книги: Graham Brown

Соавторы: Graham Brown
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

CHAPTER 68

Hawker became aware of being conscious, and by extension alive, when the pounding in his head became too much to bear. He woke with his back to the stony ground and some type of wet cloth over his eyes.

The quiet around him seemed complete—the exact opposite of all he remembered.

He tried to move but found it too painful.

“Hawker?” a voice called to him. “Can you hear me?” The voice was kind but worried. He recognized it as Danielle’s.

He managed to move his hand, trying to bring it up toward the cloth, but he lacked the strength even to do that.

Danielle pulled the cloth from his eyes.

At first he saw only shadows, blurs of light, and the outline of her face. But slowly his eyes focused and the details appeared. She was a mess, but God she was beautiful.

“What happened?” The words croaked from his throat, dry as dust.

“You put the stone into place,” she said. “The blast knocked you a hundred feet, and you landed in the water.”

He looked at her. Her clothes were damp, and muddy in places instead of dusty. “You end up in the water, too?”

“I didn’t want you to drown.”

He was thankful for that. He tried to prop himself up. She helped him.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two hours,” she said. “I thought I’d lost you.”

They were up on the mesa. It was completely dark. “Aside from getting my ass kicked, did anything happen?”

She smiled for the first time, but there was still a sense of sadness in her eyes. “See for yourself.”

She helped him turn around.

Out over the cenote, against the backdrop of the night, he could see ghostly filaments of light rising upward. They poured from the island at its center, a twisting, almost invisible column of light.

He followed the strands upward, into the dark of the sky, where they spread into a shimmering curtain of white and blue. The display moved in a curious fashion, flowing and bending back in upon itself. At times it seemed to flicker and fade, as if it might be a mirage, but then the brightness would grow once again and the color would become more intense than it had been before.

“What is it?” Hawker asked.

“Charged particles in the atmosphere, channeling along the magnetic lines and funneling themselves harmlessly into space,” she said.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s an aurora,” she said. “I’ve seen one before, although normally the charged particles are coming down into the planet.”

“Shield of the Jaguar,” Hawker said.

She nodded, but the sad look returned.

Suddenly he remembered about Yuri.

He looked around. Back toward the cenote he saw a man whose features he couldn’t make out sitting and staring at the curtain of light in the sky. Beside them a smaller figure lay draped beneath a jacket.

“Please tell me …,” he began.

She shook her head. “It was too much for him,” she said.

Hawker closed his eyes, choking back a wave of emotion.

“He fell limp the instant it happened,” she said. “The soul stone flew out of his hands toward the well at the same moment you were being flung away from it.”

Danielle paused, trying to control her own sadness. “There was a trickle of blood near the base of his skull. A tiny hole like he’d been hit by a dart. I think the sliver was pulled from his body in the same way.”

A wave of numbness flowed through Hawker’s body. He’d known, even before he released the counterweights. He’d known what was going to happen to Yuri, but in that moment he realized that something far worse was going to happen if he didn’t. The only comfort he could find was that Yuri had given his life for many, perhaps for billions around the globe.

Sacrifice of the Body.

It was a Mayan belief, a Christian belief, a Jewish and Muslim belief as well. Innocent blood, shed for the rest of us. To make the rains come, to make the crops grow. To save the world.

Four days before Christmas, on the turning point of the Mayan calendar, a day known as 4 Ahau, 3 Kankin, the story found truth once again.

CHAPTER 69

Bethesda Naval Hospital, Bethesda, Maryland

Forty-eight hours later, Hawker, Danielle, and McCarter arrived back in the United States aboard an air force transport. For Hawker it was the first time he’d set foot on American soil in over a decade, though so far none of them had seen much of it. Lingering problems with Hawker’s eyes, official secrecy, and a tight security cordon meant waiting in ambulances at Edwards Air Force Base and several days in the confines of the Bethesda Naval Hospital.

During that time, Hawker’s eyesight returned to normal, Danielle was treated for low-level radiation poisoning, and McCarter’s leg was operated on and his infection finally, adequately addressed.

With those efforts winding down, Danielle found herself growing frustrated. Aside from the treatment and long debriefing sessions, she and the others had been confined to their individual rooms. She wanted to talk with Moore, to check on McCarter, and mostly she wanted to speak with Hawker. But so far she’d been unable to either sneak past the guard at her door or convince him to look the other way.

Arnold Moore arrived on her fourth day in “captivity.” He looked like he’d been fifteen rounds with a prize fighter.

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked.

“Took a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he said, before explaining the truth, his theory of twisted magnetic lines and how close they had come to Armageddon. “The wave still affected the world,” he said. “The three stones and whatever energy was created from the shard Yuri carried had acted to dampen it and channel the excess, but there were blackouts all over the country and across the Pacific, from Kamchatka to Mumbai. It would have been far, far worse had we not succeeded.”

“Were we really that close to war?”

“The fact that most satellites were spared kept it from happening,” Moore told her. “The president used the hotline; he was able to convince them that wave was a natural occurrence, but I don’t think it would have worked if they could not look down on us and be sure we weren’t launching missiles.”

“The children will not learn,” she said. “Maybe we’ll learn now.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“What happens next?”

Moore brightened. “Well, for one thing, your intrepid chief might get an award of some kind, maybe even a Nobel Prize for his revolutionary new theory on the workings of earth’s magnetic field. What do you think sounds better: ‘Moore’s theorem’? or the ‘Arnold axiom’?”

“Go with the first one,” she said smiling.

“Noted.”

“I want to get out of here,” she told him.

“Of course you do,” he said. “Someone’s coming to see you first. And I figured you’d want something proper to wear when you meet the president of the United States.” He offered her a tote bag filled with clothes from her home.

She took the bag eagerly and started pawing through it. She couldn’t have been more excited if it were filled with gold.

He turned.

“Where are you going?”

“To find McCarter and relieve him of his temporary status and then to see Hawker. It’s a long story but I still have a rather large check to write him.”

She shook her head. “He’ll never take it,” she said.

“He earned it.”

“I’ll go half with you. It was my butt getting rescued.”

Moore nodded.

“Something good better be happening for him,” she said sternly.

“It’s in the works” was all he would say. He ducked out the door.

Danielle turned her attention to the tote bag and examined the selection of clothing. Moore had chosen surprisingly well.

After four days in the hospital, Hawker was getting used to it. He liked pressing the button and asking for new pillows or more ice water or another serving of whatever it was they’d been feeding him. He didn’t know why so many people complained about hospital food. So far he liked it. And besides, it was great to have things brought by.

On her fifteenth trip to his room, the nurse scowled at him.

“What else do you have to do?” he said.

“Plenty,” she said, shoving a bottle of water at him.

“Here,” she added, offering him papers and a clipboard. “You’re being discharged. You’re to meet Mr. Moore in the conference room.”

Five minutes later, Hawker walked past a group of guards that looked like Secret Service agents. He stepped into the room to find McCarter and Danielle. They embraced, reunited at last.

“What’s going on?” Hawker asked.

“President’s coming,” Danielle told him.

“Do we like him?” Hawker asked.

“What do you mean?” McCarter said.

“I’ve been gone for a while. I haven’t voted for anyone since Perot in 2000,” he said.

“Perot didn’t run in 2000,” Danielle said.

“I wrote him in,” Hawker said. “Bush, Gore?” He shook his head and shivered as if the chills had just come over him.

A moment later the door of the conference room opened and a pair of Secret Service agents entered. The president followed, accompanied by Arnold Moore and Byron Stecker.

The three patients stood at this unexpected arrival.

“Sit down,” the president said, as he himself took a seat.

Hawker noticed that Moore’s face seemed to bear some healing abrasions and other wounds and his gait included a pronounced limp. Despite that he seemed a hell of a lot happier than Stecker.

President Henderson offered his thanks, and the thanks of the nation. He explained the story that was being released in bits and pieces.

“We’re telling the world that a joint effort between the United States, Mexico, Russia, and China has averted this catastrophe. Of course, the ranks of the conspiracy theorists are running wild with the occurrence and its perfect coincidence with the Mayan prophecy, but we are reporting that this system was designed eleven years ago, during a solar flare event that had similar, if less pronounced effects, and that it was only a fluke that the event occurred on December twenty-first.”

“I’m guessing that very few are buying that,” McCarter offered.

The president shrugged. “Conspiracy theories are a growth industry. I’m just glad they don’t need a bailout.”

McCarter laughed. “It would be appropriate if we could find a way to credit the Mayan people, their religion. They kept this legend alive for thousands of years. In the face of all they’ve been through since the Europeans reached the Americas, they maintained their beliefs and that was the key.”

The president seemed to make a mental note of this. “No doubt you’re correct,” he said, with great sobriety. “I’ll make sure we discuss it with our counterparts in Mexico.”

Danielle asked the next question. “And what about Saravich? Where is he?”

“He’s been treated and released,” the president said.

“Released to where?” she pressed.

“He’s boarding a British Airways flight to London,” the president said. “From there it’s direct to Moscow.”

“And then what?”

Hawker could hear the concern in her voice, perhaps more plainly than she’d like. But she’d told Hawker the story. Saravich had saved her, and together they had saved him. His brother had saved Yuri from the Russian Science Directorate and then from freezing to death on the Arctic ice. By extension those acts had helped save them all. In both cases the men had violated the directives they’d been charged with. Hawker’s kind of people.

“Don’t worry about him,” the president replied. “Ivan Saravich is a hero of the Russian people. Like the three of you, he is a hero to the world at large. The leaked story will indicate that his guards were killed in the battle with Kang and his army, but that his actions were instrumental in destroying that army, which they were. And if I know anything, I’d guess that Ivan Saravich will become a Russian celebrity of some sort and enjoy a long and honored life.”

Danielle sat back, seeming satisfied and hopeful.

“And what about us?” McCarter asked.

This time Stecker answered. “In your case,” he began, “it’s simple. First, you’ll be sworn to secrecy under the Anti-Espionage Act of 1949. Under the terms of that act—”

“Oh, spare me,” McCarter said, holding up a hand.

“I’ve been down this road before. I get it. I promise you, I have no intention of returning from sabbatical to announce that I’ve been working as a spy, escaping from hired killers, and carrying around a magic stone that saved the world.”

He paused, then added, “Although maybe I should. They’d probably send me on another sabbatical, this time for mental health reasons.”

Hawker almost laughed. The feeling bubbled up within him and he just barely held it back. Without seeing the truth, it was too absurd to believe.

Across the table, even the president smiled. He turned to Stecker. “I’m thinking we can cross that one off the list.”

“And what about Hawker?” Danielle asked, attacking like a good lawyer.

Moore reacted first. And Hawker guessed there were additional considerations, no doubt involving the CIA.

Fine with him. If ever there was a time to fight it out, this was it.

“A deal has been crafted,” Moore said.

Before Hawker could reply, Danielle jumped to his defense. “There’s no need for a deal here. I mean, my God, what could he possibly still owe you?”

“Nothing,” Moore admitted. “In fact, it’s my understanding that he’s come into a large sum of money. Enough to make certain that he’ll never owe anyone anything.”

Moore looked at him. “If I were you,” he said, “I’d take that money and disappear, and never work another day in my life.”

Hawker leaned forward. “And on the odd chance I don’t want to do that?”

Moore raised an eyebrow. “Then you can have a full pardon,” he said. “Or a grant of immunity at all levels, or whatever you want to call it, accompanied by the CIA’s express, written apology for the situation they put you in years ago.”

As Moore spoke, Stecker squirmed, but he made no move to refute what was being said.

“In return for what?”

“Your agreement to continue working as an agent of the United States for the next five years.”

“Undercover,” Hawker said to clarify. “For the CIA?”

“No,” Moore said. “For the NRI.”

Hawker sat back, surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” Danielle interjected. “You can still go find that beach.”

Yes, he could still go. And where would it lead him? Out on his own again. Certainly she didn’t mention coming with him.

“There is a catch,” Moore said.

Only one? Hawker thought. Must be a hell of a deal.

Moore cleared his throat again, and it seemed to Hawker as if he were looking for the words.

“Among other things,” Moore said, “it is your particular status in the world, as a known pariah of sorts, that makes you uniquely valuable. As has been discussed among the three of us behind closed doors, you are a unique asset in all the world. You can go to places we could never get an agent; you can find your way into organizations that would be impossible for us to infiltrate or even get close to without ten years to set up a cover. For you to be most effective, you’ll need to maintain that status.”

Moore cleared his throat again. “In other words,” he said, “it must appear as if you are still on the run. Which means you will have to leave the United States within twenty-four hours.”

The words were like a dagger to the heart. He looked over at Danielle.

“Give me a few hours to think about it,” he said.

“I think we can do that,” the president said.

And with that the meeting adjourned. Stecker left immediately, muttering to himself. The president shook hands with all three heroes and then left with the Secret Service. Moore lingered, speaking to Danielle, before departing.

And then Hawker, McCarter, and Danielle were left looking at one another.

“What are you going to do?” Hawker asked McCarter. “Maybe you should join up full-time. I mean look, they want to hire me; they must be desperate.”

McCarter laughed. “No thanks,” he said. “I have a son and a daughter who both have their mother’s eyes. I’m going to go see them, and stay until I’m driving them crazy. Might even reprise my Moses Negro look.”

He laughed. “At the very least I have a couple of great stories to tell my grandkids, while they’re still young enough to believe them.”

Danielle hugged him.

“Stay in touch,” she said.

“I will,” he promised.

McCarter shook Hawker’s hand and then they hugged.

“Stay out of trouble,” Hawker said.

“Godspeed,” McCarter told him. “Whatever you decide.”

McCarter left to collect his things and Hawker found himself looking at Danielle, fixed on her eyes. Lost for a moment.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Want to help me figure it out?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“I got to go get my stuff before the nurse burns it,” he said.

“You have stuff?”

“A few things.”

She smiled. “All right. Meet me downstairs. I’ll wait for you.”

Danielle went back to her room, thrilled to be leaving, excited for a chance to be out in the free world again.

As she was packing up her stuff, the door opened. From the corner of her eye, she saw a huge bouquet of flowers. Somewhere behind it stood a man.

“You can give those to another patient,” she said happily. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Okay,” the man said in a surprised tone.

She recognized his voice.

“Marcus?” she said, spinning around. “What are you … what are you doing here?”

He looked good, looked fit. Serious as always.

“I blackmailed Arnold,” he said. “I wanted to make sure I came to see you.”

“Why?” she said. “I mean not why. It’s just I’m … I’m getting out. I would have come to see you tomorrow.”

She felt her equilibrium tumble. She had planned to go see him as soon as she got out of the hospital, but she hadn’t expected him here. She was unsure of how to react. She wasn’t ready. “You got your hair cut” was all she could come up with.

“A couple of times,” he said. “It’s been eight months.”

He moved toward her and they embraced and still she didn’t know what to say.

Hawker thanked the nurse for not throwing his watch and his pen away. That was the extent of his things.

“It doesn’t work,” she said, pointing to the watch.

He knew that. In fact the dial was cracked, the hands frozen at the exact time of the blast. For reasons he found hard to explain he didn’t want to let it go. It was proof of what had happened. Proof that man had done some good to his fellow man, despite what must have been a horrendous cost.

“It works for me,” he said.

She gave him a look that said he was even crazier than she thought and he stepped out of the room and headed down the hall.

–

Danielle sat on the bed. Marcus sat beside her, holding her hand. It felt so familiar and yet strange at the same time.

“So much has happened,” she said. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Who was it that took you?” he asked.

She was about to answer but caught the words in her throat. He wasn’t part of the institute anymore; he wasn’t cleared to know.

“Right,” he said. “This again.”

She gazed at him, her eyes asking for some slack.

He seemed to get the message. “I have something for you,” he said. “I know I handled things badly when you left but now that you’re back …”

He pulled out a small case. She knew it held a ring.

She did not reach for it.

“I know we fought about the job,” he said, “and about you going back. But now that—whatever you were doing is over—we won’t have anything to cause those arguments anymore.”

Her mind whirled. He was right about all that, but she didn’t want to do this now. She needed a minute.

“I said a lot of things that were cruel,” she began. “I was angry at you for not supporting me.”

“I didn’t want you to go, because I was worried about you and I didn’t like being left behind. So I’m sure I was just as much in the wrong as you.”

Maybe time did change things. They were finally saying the right words instead of just trying to win the argument.

“You know this can be good,” he added. “You know it was, before our egos got in the way.”

He opened the case. Of course, the diamond was perfect.

On his way to the elevator Hawker passed the nurse’s station. All smiles for him. “Having a good day?” he asked.

“You’re leaving,” one of them said. “We’re ready to party.”

He had to laugh.

He stepped into the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. From there he walked to Danielle’s room. Hearing her talking to someone, he glanced inside. They were sitting on the bed holding hands.

He pulled back quickly, surprised, stunned. He was certain that they hadn’t seen him, but feeling like an intruder, he backed away. Right into Arnold Moore.

Moore stepped past him and peeked into the room, then came back to where Hawker stood.

“Bad timing,” Hawker said.

“There’s some history there,” Moore advised. “I’d tread lightly if I were you.”

Hawker clenched his jaw as the reality of the situation crashed in on him. Things happened when people were under pressure and far from home, but the normal world was something different. He wanted to talk with Danielle, tell her how he felt, most of which she already knew or guessed at. But what would that lead to? She was getting out and lining up on final approach for a normal life, one without blood and death and destruction around every corner. Just as he’d suggested she should. How the hell could he ask her not to?

“Might be better if I don’t tread at all,” he said.

Moore nodded, noncommittal. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down the hall. “You make a decision?”

“Yeah, I’m in,” Hawker said, making it that moment. “Send me on my way.”

Moore pulled a passport wallet from his coat. “Instructions are in there, along with new ID and papers,” he said. “We have a car waiting outside, and a ticket for you to Miami. Transport will be standing by.”

Hawker studied Moore. He had a new sense of the man. He guessed they’d argue plenty over the next five years. But at least he knew he could trust him.

“I’ll give you your money back,” he said. “When the five years are up.”

“Interest?” Moore asked.

“Probably not.”

Moore shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

Hawker took the papers. “Don’t you drag her back in,” he warned.

“Once was too often,” Moore assured him.

Hawker nodded and then reluctantly started for the far door. “Tell her I said goodbye.”

“I will,” Moore promised.

Danielle pulled the ring from the case. The facets caught the light and it sparkled almost like the Brazil stone. It was awfully pretty. But pretty things did not move her anymore. Never really had. She pushed it away.

“I don’t want you to be angry,” she said.

He looked as if he was. But it didn’t matter. She’d decided something in San Ignacio, even before she’d kissed Hawker. It had to do with living for the future.

“I went back to the NRI because I had to,” she said, stating her original position. “But also because I wanted to.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You like your life,” she said. “You like teaching, and your friends, and the university. You like the consulting work and the lobbying firm. But for me those things were just okay.”

“You’ll get used to them,” he said.

“I don’t want to get used to anything,” she said.

He inhaled a deep breath and looked away, as if trying to hold back.

“I don’t feel pity for you,” she said. “You have almost everything you want in life. You got shot and almost died and instead of crawling into a hole you’re in the world building an empire. The only thing about your life that brings you pain is me.”

“That’s not always the case,” he said with conviction.

“No, not always,” she said. “But it shouldn’t ever be. If I stay and live your life, I will resent you forever, because this isn’t where I belong. And if I continue with the NRI, you will always worry about me and always be reminded of what happened to you. I don’t want either of those things.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But until I find it I’m not willing to give up the search.”

He looked as if he was about to launch into the full-court press, the all-out effort to change her mind, but he didn’t. Reluctantly, he put the ring away, closed the box, and stood up. A long moment of silence followed. “You win,” he said finally.

“No one wins,” she said. He leaned toward her. They hugged and he walked out.

She watched him go, knowing she’d hurt him again, but feeling like she had finally done the right thing for everyone including herself. She gathered up the rest of her belongings, walked out and down the hall. Moore waited there for her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, certain of it for the first time in a while. “I am.”

“I saw Marcus leave,” he said. “You not going home?”

“The NRI is my home,” she said. “And I’m grabbing on with both hands.”

He smiled. “You’ll end up old and lonely like me.”

“I can think of worse things,” she said. “Where’s Hawker?”

“He’s gone,” Moore said.

Her heart dropped. This could not be happening. If Hawker vanished into the haze she might never find him again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Did he say where he was going?”

“No,” Moore replied. “But he’ll check in when he gets there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He took the deal,” Moore said.

She was very surprised. “You’re serious?”

“Uh-huh,” Moore said. “Now, I just need to find someone to be his contact. Someone who might be able to keep him under control and out of trouble. I was thinking Carson or Palomino or …”

She glared at him. “You give that job to anyone but me and I will kill you right here and now.”

“Well,” he said, false shock covering his face, “since I can’t even afford a funeral these days … I guess the job is yours.”