Savant

been constructed, which will be brought to the surveillance subject's attention. There is considerable history between the two assets, and subject's skills in such areas are unique. In time, he'll destroy the person who has the special weapon.'

'Assuming he does that, what stops him from taking it and killing with it himself?'

'Well—' The doctor had to stifle a laugh at that one. 'He neither likes nor trusts that type of weapon. It's much more likely that he'll destroy it along with the man, or damage it in some irreparable way. But as far as him sniping people-no. That wouldn't be his style at all.'

'Um.'

'Too, there's the matter of the implant. We'll continue to have him in our sights, and should it become necessary, we can simply put an end to him.'

'What's to stop the sniper from using that same implant to track the target's whereabouts?'

'Nothing. But so far he's evidenced interest only in random kills of civilians. If he'd wanted to shoot our subject he's had hundreds of opportunities to do so. What we must do now is notify subject so that he can take certain precautions.'

'You understand, Dr. Norman, I'm not personally questioning your methodology or tactics, but I'm going to be asked such things as—is this subject the only one you feel is competent to remove the person in question? And what sort of backup do we have, in the wings as it were, should things not work out as planned? Contingency plans? Backstops? Failsafes? That kind of thing.'

'The most obvious aspect is that the OMEGASTAR tracker is a two-way unit. As he tracks subject, he too is under surveillance, in the sense that the control center monitors the locations of both the mobile tracker and the implant. So we have whatever backup we need from Clandestine Services, but the idea of utilizing the subject, to turn him back around, plays along a number of lines: first, there's the revenge aspect, subject is much attuned to that element; second, their past shared history will work to our advantage; third, there's subject's presentience. Should the person who is our SAVANT sniper decide to distance himself from the mobile tracker no one is better qualified to trail him than a man who has proven himself to be a stalker of unsurpassed efficiency. But rest assured that other measures have been taken.'

'Excellent! Just a minor point—is there any chance that the subject, given his unique, er…personality, might ignore your attempt to communicate with him about the possible danger to him, and so on?'

'No. We'll be calling attention to the communication in a way that he'll find singularly disturbing.'

'You mean with the dead animal? You mentioned to me something about roadkill?'

'Yes.' The doctor had a distasteful expression. 'This will disabuse subject of any notion he might entertain to, for whatever reason or whim, ignore our communication. It is a bit more subtle than it might appear. For all its crudity, he'll immediately pay attention to our message, but he will also grasp the implicit threat, albeit a nonchallenging one.

'He will be told the truth, without ornamentation: that there is only one reason he was permitted to be released from death row initially, that he has been a field experiment to give priceless insight into the behavior of one such as himself. That, when he was undergoing drugged hypnosis sessions, a device was surgically implanted in his brain to allow him to be monitored and followed; that while we understand he'll be enraged and wish to destroy us for this, that such a measure was the only way he would have been granted the freedom that he has. It will appeal marginally to his sense of logic. The implant, which he will despise, permits him to escape the confines of solitary and to do those things he does so willingly and so well.'

'You are, I'm sure, aware of the incident with the motorcycle club that he blew up?'

'Of course.'

'It seems to me, and forgive my continuing to play the devil's advocate here, but it seems unlikely such a man will willingly do your bidding. I should think his anger would preclude it. After all, the implant is a locator, not a control. What if he merely ignores both the message and the sniper?'

'When he is asked to extinguish this other asset, it will be made clear that the same person tried to assassinate him in Vietnam. That the target is at this moment trying to kill him. His survival instincts are astonishing. He'll be shown current photos of the sniper and schematics of the SAVANT weapon system, copies of the photos of some of its victims, and a piece of the OMEGASTAR unit that will not only allow him to track the sniper's moves but also educate him as to some of the mobile tracking capabilities we have. He is, in some ways, a true genius. I assure you he'll experience no difficulties in assimilating this data in all its implications, and he'll see that it is in his immediate best interests to destroy the target we give him.'

'I know how high you are on the subject's proven abilities—and I'd be the last to quarrel with such an opinion—but from what I've heard, the sniper has a similarly impressive track record, and considering the fact he's armed with a long-range silent killing device that's without equal, and that he's able to monitor the subject's every move…' He let the question go unasked.

'It won't be a simple task. But think of it this way-imagine a batting contest between the greatest power hitters of all time: Joe DiMaggio, Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, and so forth. Who would win if they all entered a batting contest? You might argue that Ted Williams had the most perfect coiled-spring swing, or that Ruth had the greatest raw power, or that Joltin' Joe's numbers were the best, or that he was the most graceful natural athlete—and so on. You apply those kinds of criteria in hypothetical situations. But what if—just for the point of our discussion—we learn that King Kong has always enjoyed playing the game. We watch him at bat and he knocks them out of the park, and for a bat he uses a small tree.' The man on the phone laughed at the analogy but Dr. Norman continued, in a serious tone. 'And then you said to King Kong, 'King—only the one who wins this contest survives.' I would not wish to be Mr. DiMaggio or Mr. Ruth under those conditions. This is not a very carefully drawn parallel, but I guess what I'm asking you to understand is this: Whatever high technology we've given the man with the sniper rifle, I'm about to take away his most effective weapon. That has been secrecy. I am going to hand him to King Kong, one might say. And all the sophisticated electronics and weapons in the world will not counterbalance the subject's natural abilities and his drives. He is—in every sense of the phrase—a born killer. He's also the ultimate survivor.' Then Norman said in a low whisper, 'Truly, I would not want to be in the other man's shoes.' And he meant it.

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13

Kansas City, Missouri

Why don't we let this short cut grow out, Julie?' the hairdresser asked. 'I've got a great cut in mind for your head.'

'I like it like this, Sandra. It's nice 'n' short and I don't have to fool with it.'

'You've got some natural curl in your hair. Do you know how many heads I cut would kill for some natural curl? My God, woman…'

'Whack it off,' Julie said, laughing, knowing it bugged Sandra. Julie Hilliard was thirty-two and, like many women, had different looks at different times. She knew she could let it grow out a bit and Sandra would tease it to hell, and she'd put on a bunch of makeup, a ton of blush and lip gloss and mascara for miles, and some big dangly earrings, and smile with lots of teeth showing instead of her usual thin-lipped cop look, and she looked like an attractive woman. But Julie Hilliard was a cop, one of Kansas City's finest in a progressive shop that was staffed with more female dicks than any other homicide department in the country. She was also one of only two women on the prestigious Kansas City Metro Homicide Squad, a slot that had taken her eleven kick-ass years of casemaking to attain. Homicide was what she lived, breathed, and ate. And her look was just fine, thank you.

'Not only that, this cut is all wrong for your face.' Sandra had the scissors going but she was going to bitch about it all the same. 'You've got terrific eyes, and you should spotlight them. This downplays them.'

'The A-holes I deal with, they don't like my eyes anyway.'

'Yeah, but God forbid you'd want to get married someday…'

'Oh, Lord.'

'Meet a nice guy, settle down—'

'You sound like my mother, now.'

'Well, I'm just saying…I could make you so much prettier. Check it out, perm those curls, eh? Layer through