Текст книги "Firestorm "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

10

I've been having complaints about you, Dickens.” Ki Yong's voice was silky soft. “Trask isn't pleased with you.”

Dickens's hand tightened on his phone. “Then get someone else to do his dirty work. I don't like the idea of risking my neck to please that crazy son of a bitch.”

“You think he's crazy?”

“What do you think?”

There was a silence at the other end of the line. “You may be right. I've noticed signs of instability. But it's of no importance as long as he's kept under control. That's why I have loyal men like you to keep an eye on him.”

“They'll catch him. He takes too many chances. He doesn't give a damn about the risk as long as he makes his kill.”

“He's very clever. He has a chance of doing what he wants and surviving.”

“How many kills? He's lost focus. He took me off Raztov and put me on Kerry Murphy. And then last night he told me to scout around the wharf district for a deserted warehouse.”

“Indeed? How curious. I wonder what he could be planning.”

“Whatever it is, he doesn't give a damn whether I get stung.”

“I'm sure you're wrong. You know too much. He wouldn't want you caught.” He paused. “How much do you know, Dickens? Have you found out where we can find Trask?”

“How could I do that?” Dickens didn't try to hide the frustration in his voice. “When he wants to see me, he doesn't let me know until thirty or forty minutes before the meeting, and it's always a different place. Most of the time he communicates by phone. He's damn careful.”

“There must be some way to do it. If you could arrange a meeting with him on some pretext, I would be very grateful. And you would become very rich.”

“You've told me that before. He won't go for it.”

“Continue to try. The ideal situation would be to have him willing and cooperative, but I don't want him caught by the authorities. The simplest way to prevent that from happening is to take him off the scene.”

“Before he makes his kills?”

“I don't care about his revenge. I care about plucking the prize he's holding under my nose. I can do that if I can catch him.”

Dickens was sure Ki Yong could. In his dealings with the North Korean, he had always found him to be a cold-blooded son of a bitch. He could almost pity Trask if Ki Yong ever got the upper hand.

Almost.

“I'll do the best I can.” He was silent a moment. “He's got a bug in his ass about Kerry Murphy. I might be able to use her to get to him.”

“Kerry Murphy . . .” Dickens could almost hear the wheels turning in Ki Yong's mind as he went over everything Dickens had reported to him on the woman. “It's possible, I suppose. But there's really no revenge factor involved. Would there be enough emotion involved to spur him to an indiscretion?”

“How the hell do I know? But he took me off Raztov.”

“And that alone is enough to explore the situation,” Ki Yong said. “You may have hit on a way to benefit both of us, Dickens. Do keep me informed.” He hung up.

Dickens pressed disconnect and thrust the phone in his pocket. Arrogant son of a bitch. He disliked Ki Yong as much as he did Trask, but the Korean paid well and he'd rather deal with his icy ruthlessness than Trask's volatility. He could judge which way Ki Yong would jump, because he was always motivated by cool logic. Trask was brilliant, but vengeful men were often erratic, and Dickens distrusted unpredictability. Dickens couldn't see where Trask was leading him, and if he wasn't careful, the bastard could get him killed.

Like tonight.

He parked the car and sat there looking at the row of deserted warehouses that lined the street. Two were condemned, and he'd be lucky not to have the floor give way and send him crashing into the basement.

What the hell was he doing here, anyway?

Doing what that crazy bastard told him to do. He got out of the car and headed for the first warehouse. Get it over with and get out.

This couldn't go on. He needed to put an end to being at Trask's beck and call. He had to find a way to serve Trask up to Ki Yong on a silver platter, line his own pockets, and get out.

But to do that he might have to find a way to stake out Kerry Murphy for Trask. . . .

Why do you hate your father?” Silver picked a blade of grass and chewed thoughtfully on it.

“I don't hate him. I just don't like him.” Kerry looked out at the lake. “And you should know why I'm not fond of him. He stuck me in that asylum.”

“You didn't like him before that. Your relationship with him has always been troubled.”

“Not all children get along with their parents.”

“But you're very affectionate. You believe in maintaining family ties. You forgave your brother. Why not your father?”

“I'd rather not talk about it.”

“Okay, then just think about it.”

She looked at him in exasperation. “That's the same thing as—” His expression was alight with mischief, and she found herself smiling grudgingly. “Stay out of my business, Silver. I don't want my relationship with him glued back together.”

“Why not? Don't you think you should ask yourself that question?”

“No.” She rolled over and sat up. “I think I should ask you why you seem happy to lie around and ask me stupid questions instead of teaching me. When are we going to make some progress?”

“This is only the third time we've been here. And I am happy.” He stretched and reached for another blade of grass. “And so are you. You like it here.”

What was not to like? Delphiniums and green grass, a glittering lake and this man who had become a part of her. “You probably brainwashed me.”

He shook his head. “You've just gotten used to me. Having me here isn't so bad, is it?”

She had gotten used to him. It was strange how comfortable she was with him now. She actually was beginning to look forward to opening her eyes and seeing him sitting by the lake and smiling at her. “Yes.”

“Liar.” He chuckled. “You like me.”

Jesus, she loved his laugh. His voice was deep, but there was a note of boyish enjoyment. “Sometimes.”

“Most of the time.”

“When you don't interfere in my business.” She frowned sternly. “Stop it and get to work.”

“I'm already working.”

She stared at him warily. “Have you been messing with me?”

“Just building a few barriers. I wanted to protect you.”

Don't soften. “Then why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”

“I didn't have to have your help. The defenses will be automatic. When you need them, they'll be there.”

“Just like that?”

He nodded. “Just like that.”

“Show me.”

“Trust me.”

“Show me. I want to see what—”

She screamed as pain tore through her.

Daddy!

Fire. Smoke.

Mama. Help Mama.

Couldn't help her. Couldn't help her. Couldn't help her.

The man was looking down at her and there was something in his hand.

No! Go away! Go away!

Gone.

“Sorry.” She opened her eyes to see Silver's face above her. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I showed you,” he said simply. “I attacked and you fought back.”

“Shit.”

“You wouldn't have thanked me for being gentle. I had to hit you where it hurt.”

“You did that.” Her lips were trembling and she tried to keep her voice even. “It hurt like hell.”

“I know.” He reached out and gently touched her cheek. “But you can stop it sooner next time, now that you know you're capable of doing it.”

She drew a deep breath. “All right. You found a way to protect me, now find a way to show me how to push.”

His hand fell away from her. “You're pretty pushy as you are. You just learned something pretty darn big. Absorb it before you leap forward.”

“I don't want to absorb it. I want to build on what I've learned. Teach me.”

“I told you I wasn't certain I could help you out there.”

“Screw being certain. I've got to try to learn. Tell me how it works with you. How do you make people do what you want?”

“First, you have to make sure the subject isn't closed to you.”

“Trask isn't closed to me. He erupts like a volcano every time I'm near him.”

“Then you have to go in and block out all the distractions and try to find the path.”

“What path?”

“You'll see. When you go into the psyche, it's like a twisting tunnel with offshoots everywhere. Most of them are short and some are blocked. But there are some that go all the way to the center of influence. When you find one, settle in and start pushing. Don't try commands. Suggest.”

“Suggest what?”

“If you want him to go jump in the lake, suggest he's hot and wants to go for a swim.”

“And he'll do it?”

“It works for me.” He held up his hand as she opened her lips. “Yeah, I know. It has to work for you.”

“And I can't practice on anyone, dammit. I can't go into anyone but Trask.”

“You can go into me.”

“And there's no way you'd let anyone control you.”

“It's all I can offer. It's a pretty big concession for me.”

She sighed. “Okay, I'll try.”

“At least you'll get the basics. But don't get impatient if you don't have a breakthrough right away. Concentrate and pretend there's a wall before you and you have to chip away at it to get to the other side. . . .”

I told you that it wasn't going to be easy,” Silver said. “We might as well stop for now.”

The lake and field disappeared in darkness.

She opened her eyes to see Silver sitting beside her bed. “Why didn't it work?” Her hands clenched into fists. “I tried so hard.”

“Maybe too hard.” He stood up. “We'll try again tomorrow.”

“You want me to keep chipping away at that imaginary wall?” She grimaced. “I feel like blowing it up. Was there any progress at all?”

“A little.” He smiled. “I could feel you plugging away at it.” He headed for the door. “As I said, we'll try again after you get some sleep. You need the rest.”

“What time is it?”

“Three forty-five in the morning.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “You'll find you're pretty exhausted. Sleep late.”

She shook her head. “I'm wide awake.”

“You'll wind down soon. It will be like pulling a plug out of a dam.”

She made a face. “You're just full of similes tonight. Walls and now dams.”

“I'll try to be more original in the future. Good night.”

“No, I want to try again. I can do it. I know I can do it.” She added hurriedly as she saw he was going to refuse, “Just one more time. Please.”

“You're relentless.” His lips lifted in a half smile. “Okay, once more.”

She was in!

“Congratulations. Now find the path.”

“Don't nag me. I'm still getting used to—”

What?

Shadows.

“You're not like Trask. I can't feel what you're feeling. You're . . . hidden.”

“I know. That's exactly the way I like it. Do what you can, learn what you can. Now, find the path.”

“I can't see anything.”

“Feel it. Concentrate. You wanted this. Now, see it through.”

“Stop barking at me. I can't help it if I'm intruding where I'm not wanted. Well, maybe I can, but you deserve it. Now you see how it feels.”

He was silent. “You're right. I deserve it. But that won't keep me from bitching.”

“Obviously.”

“So get your ass in gear and find that path.”

I didn't do it, did I?” She got out of bed and walked over to the window. “I found your damn path and I settled into your damn influence center and zilch.”

“I warned you it might not work with me.”

“It might if you'd lowered your blasted protective barriers just a little. Would that have been too much to ask?”

“Yes. I gave you all I could.” He was silent a moment, his gaze on her tense back. “You've learned a lot, and you'll learn more with practice.”

“But I don't know if it will work with Trask. Maybe he'll know I'm there. Maybe I won't be able to find my way through that cesspool of a mind. Maybe when I thought I was pushing with you, it wasn't happening.”

“You were pushing.”

“How much? Enough?”

“I don't know.”

“Neither do I. It's like stumbling in the dark, and I won't be sure until I run into Trask.”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.” He headed for the door. “And now I'm going to bed. You may not realize it, but you wore me out.”

“Yeah, keeping me from seeing anything, keeping me from making a dent, you secretive bastard.”

“I'm glad you're beginning to understand me so well. See you after you've had some sleep.”

She watched the door close behind him.

Loneliness.

Jesus, it wasn't bad enough that she felt a sense of desolation when they separated mentally. Now she was feeling physically lost when he wasn't in the same room.

Get over it. It was all a part of this damn togetherness. Or if she couldn't get over it, just ride with it until she could bow out of his life.

Loneliness.

Pretend it was another wall to overcome. Chip away, and maybe she'd be better at pushing the loneliness away than she was at being on the attack.

But there was no way she was going to be able to sleep right now. She'd done too much, and too little. So much for winding down. She felt as tense and strung out as a dope addict trying to go cold turkey. Hell, perhaps that merging between them was addictive. She'd become aware that the time she spent with Silver by the lake was lazily seductive, almost sensual in its beauty.

Because he wanted it that way for her.

Stop thinking about him. He was already dominating too much of her life. Take a shower and relax.

She turned and headed for the bathroom. That was the right idea. A hot shower and she'd be fine. She'd be able to go to sleep and practice the control Silver had given her to push away all thought of him.

She was out of the shower and drying off when her phone rang. She froze. It was after four in the morning. Jason?

She hurriedly wrapped her towel around herself and ran out of the bathroom to pick up her cell phone on the night table.

“You sound very alert for this hour of the morning. Am I keeping you awake, Kerry?”

Not Jason. The man's voice wasn't familiar. It was deep, smooth, every syllable precisely enunciated. “Who is this?”

“I believe you can guess. No, that's a childish game, and we're not children. This is James Trask.”

Shock ripped through her.

“You're not speaking,” Trask said. “Don't you believe it's me?”

“Yes.” She had to steady her voice. “What do you want, Trask?”

“I thought it was time we talked. I've been thinking about you a good deal lately.”

“I can imagine. You're probably salivating over the idea of incinerating me like you did Joyce Fairchild.”

“Oh, I'm way past that stage. I admit that was my first impulse. I was very annoyed that you managed to escape when I set Firestorm loose on you in Macon.”

“My sister-in-law didn't escape. Her baby died.”

“Do you expect me to regret that? They were in the way.” He paused. “It's really your fault the baby died. You shouldn't have teamed up with Silver.”

“And that's your excuse?”

“I don't make excuses. I'm just commenting.”

His voice was casual, without expression, and she had to take a moment to smother the flare of anger. “Why did you call?”

“I wanted to hear your voice. I've been sitting here looking at your photograph and thinking how alike we are.”

“Bullshit.”

He chuckled. “You sound so indignant. But it's true, Kerry. Think about it.”

“You're a murderer. I don't have to think about it.”

“Is that supposed to make me angry? Murder is only a word. You could probably kill given the right circumstances. Can't you think of one?”

“No.”

“What if you were able to kill me?”

She drew a deep breath. “I'm going to hang up.”

“I don't think you will. You're too curious about me. Just as I'm curious about you.”

“I'm only curious about how a bastard like you justifies murder.”

“The trick is not to try to justify, just accept. And your curiosity extends beyond that question. Why else did you go to Marionville?”

She didn't answer. “Why did you follow me?”

“For the same reason that drove you. I'm beginning to believe we're kindred spirits.”

“No way.”

“Did you enjoy the Krazky house? I was particularly proud of my work there.”

“Three children died in that fire.”

“Tim Krazky was a bully. I don't like bullies.”

“So you killed him and his family.”

“Fire cleans and destroys all the ugliness. Tim Krazky was very ugly.” He chuckled. “Though you'd think he was even uglier after the fire got through with him.”

“My God, you're sick.”

“I'd be insulted if I thought you really meant that. But I know it's just part of the battle you've been fighting all your life. You got off on the wrong path and you're blind to the truth, but that's okay. I'll teach it to you. Unless Firestorm has to kill you. I find I'm regretting that possibility. Isn't that strange?”

“The battle I've been fighting is against people like you.”

“There is no one like me. Except perhaps you.” He paused. “But you didn't answer me. If you had the opportunity to kill me, would you take it?”

“Yes.”

“That was difficult, wasn't it? Most people find it hard to admit the capacity to kill. It's so much easier once you face your true self.”

“Is this conversation going somewhere?”

“You're cutting to the chase.” He chuckled. “I'd do the same. I knew we were alike the moment I watched you standing in those ruins at Marionville. I felt a closeness to you that I've never felt with anyone else before. We're two sides of the same coin.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know exactly what I'm talking about. We both love the child.”

“Child? Fire. You're talking about fire?”

“Of course. You probably think you hate fire, but it's not true. It's dominated your life, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.”

“You're crazy.”

“No, you're just not seeing clearly. I believe it's my duty to open your eyes before the child takes you. My duty and my pleasure.”

Smother the anger. “Then meet with me.”

“You're not ready yet. You need to be seasoned. You need to feel the power of life and death and know that you're in control. There's nothing like that emotion on the face of the earth.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You will. How is your dog?”

The change of subject threw her off guard. “What?”

“I've decided to let your wonder dog get in a little practice. I'm having to run a few tests to correct some problems in one of my pieces of equipment. It didn't work properly on your brother's house in Macon. I think I've made the right adjustment, but I need a trial run.”

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. “Trial run? One of the people on your hit list?”

“Oh, no. I have something else in mind. Something that will bring us together. I have a challenge for you. Do you know how many warehouses there are in the Washington area?”

“I've no idea.”

“Then you'd better find out. Or let your dog sniff it out. Now, what's his name? Oh, yes—Sam.”

“You're saying you're going to destroy a warehouse.”

“Yes. But it wouldn't be a true test unless there was something besides real estate to burn.” He paused. “I'm choosing very carefully. I want someone young, with her whole life before her. Maybe a teenage girl . . .”

“You bastard.”

“Yes, I can almost visualize her. A little plump, with long dark hair. Lovely, silky olive skin. If she wasn't wearing those hideous torn jeans, she'd look like a young Mona Lisa. So much potential and so little judgment.”

“Who is she?”

“Find the warehouse and maybe you'll find her.”

“And expose myself so that you can kill me.”

“There's always that possibility.” He sounded amused. “But how exciting it will be for you to find out if you value your own skin more than that poor innocent teenager. It will be a journey of self-discovery.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“It could be I'm bored and want to challenge myself and you. It could be that I want to draw you close to Firestorm and burn away all the lies you've been telling yourself.” He was silent a moment. “Or it could be because I'm lonely. You're the first woman I've felt this close to since Helen. It doesn't really matter which is true.”

“Helen?”

He ignored the question. “I'm hanging up now. I've enjoyed talking to—”

“Wait. When are you—how much time do I have?”

“Two days. Midnight. The infamous ticking clock. Isn't that exciting?” He hung up.

Christ.

She threw the phone down and ran toward the door. She had to get to Silver.

Two days . . .

For God's sake, stop shaking.” Silver grabbed a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around her. “It's going to be okay.”

“You didn't hear him.” She clutched the blanket closer. Lord, she was cold. “He'll kill her.”

“He may not even have a target in mind.”

“He knows who she is. He's already decided who he's going to kill. I could feel it.”

“A teenager. A warehouse.” Silver's forehead creased. “A runaway using a warehouse as base?”

“It makes sense. Unless that's what he wants me to think.” She lifted a shaking hand to her temple. “But I don't think he was lying. He was enjoying it too much. He wanted me to know how bold and clever he is. He practically drew me a picture of her.”

“Then maybe we can find her,” Silver said. “Or the warehouse.”

“He asked me if I knew how many warehouses there were in this area. There could be hundreds, thousands.”

Silver nodded. “But if this teenager is using the warehouse to live in, then she'd have to feel secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't be discovered. That means no security guards or people working in the place.”

“Which doesn't narrow it down very much.”

“We'll take what we can get.” He reached for the telephone. “And we need some help with those statistics.”

“Who are you calling?”

He was dialing quickly. “George.”

He didn't give you any other hint, Kerry?” George asked. “It's not much info to go on.”

“We've already established that fact,” Kerry said. “And I've told you everything Trask said. Judge for yourself.”

“We are a bit testy, aren't we?”

“There's a teenage kid who may die in order to draw me to that warehouse. You're damn right I'm testy.”

“Easy,” Silver said.

She whirled on him. “Stop that soothing bullshit. Nothing is easy about this. It stinks.” She turned back to George. “We're going to find that warehouse. Hell, he wants me to find it.”

“Then he should have given you more information.”

“But then it wouldn't be a challenge for me. Can't you see?”

“He may call again.”

She shook her head. “Only after he burns her to death.”

“You seem certain.”

“I'm beginning to know him. He'd call me and crow if I didn't find her. He might give me a second chance to stop another fire, but it would be too late for her.” She drew a shaky breath. “So narrow down those warehouses for us. Get on the phone and call all those computer gurus in the Secret Service and get me a list we can work with.”

“The Washington area could include Baltimore and several towns in Virginia and—”

“Then you'd better get on the ball, hadn't you?” Silver asked.

George smiled. “I just wanted to point out what a difficult task you've set me. I wouldn't get any pleasure out of success if you didn't appreciate that failure is such a strong possibility. But don't worry, I'll persevere.” He turned to the door. “You'd better get her a cup of tea, Brad. She looks like she can use it.”

“I don't want tea. I don't want any of your little civilized niceties. I'm feeling as barbaric as Attila the Hun at the moment.”

“Ah, that's when you need those niceties the most,” he said as he shut the door behind him.

“He didn't tell us how long it would take.” Kerry shook her head. “What am I thinking? How could he even know?”

“I'll check with him after he talks to Secret Service headquarters. He'll have an idea then. It shouldn't take that long.”

“It's just that there's no time. Trask's damn ticking clock.” She closed her eyes. “I can hear it. It's like a heartbeat. Her heartbeat.”

“No matter what happens, it's not your fault, Kerry.”

“That's not going to help if I have to watch her burn to death.” Her lids lifted. “Who is Helen?”

“The woman he said he'd been close to?” He shrugged. “I don't know. There's nothing about her in the dossier I received on Trask.”

“I know.” After Joyce Fairchild's death Kerry had forced herself to go over every detail of Trask's dossier. “But she meant something to him. Maybe she still does. I need to know about her.”

“I'll call Travis and see if he can tap some of his sources and dig deeper.”

“I'd think they would have already done that.”

“Me too.”

“It doesn't make sense.” She thought about it. “Unless they don't want anyone to know who she is. Maybe she's under the witness-protection program or something.”

“There's no use guessing. We'll find out. No last name?”

She shook her head. “I've told you everything.” She grimaced. “Not that you probably wouldn't have known anyway. But this is one time I don't want to keep anything to myself. I'm scared to death.”

“You have a right to be.”

“Oh, not because this is probably an elaborate trap. It's because he said we were alike.” She stopped. “It was a lie. I'm not like him.”

“Of course you're not.”

“When I dream of fire, it's a nightmare. Just because I keep having those dreams doesn't mean I have some sort of sick fascination.”

“You're preaching to the converted.” His gaze searched her face. “Why are you even dwelling on that bastard's fantasies?”

“I don't know. He was so . . . sure.” She tried to smile. “And he hit on the one insecurity that dominates my life.”

“If he's sure, it's because he's talked himself into it.” He grasped her shoulders. “Take it from someone who knows. You have all sorts of guilt feelings, but your horror of fire is real. It's not some kind of charade you're hiding behind.”

She drew a deep breath as relief rippled through her. Yes, Silver would know. Not that she'd really had any doubts. It had just been a thought triggered in that hideous conversation. “Thank you.” Another thought occurred to her. “He says he's never felt closer to anyone than he does to me. Do you suppose on some level he's aware that I'm reading what he thinks?”

“It's possible. It would be one explanation for his fascination with you. But you can be sure that it's not because you're soul mates.”

“That's good to know.” She was suddenly aware of the warmth of his hands on her shoulders. Acutely aware. And even more aware of the response of her body to that touch. Dear God, not now. “Evidently you're not the only one who was able to tamper with my mind.” She stepped back, and his hands slowly fell away from her. “I have to go get dressed. I'll see you in the library after you've talked to Travis?”

He nodded. “You're sure you don't want to try George's favorite antidote to the trials of life?”

“I don't want tea.”

“Then I could think of another antidote.”

“No.” She grasped the blanket around her as she headed for the door. “I don't want you monkeying around in my head and trying to make everything all right.”

“I had no intention of monkeying around in your . . . head.”

She faltered in midstride. Don't look back at him. She didn't want to see what she knew she'd see.

Hell, she didn't need to see his expression to know what he meant.

She opened the door. “I'll find my own antidotes.”