reached out to me. Completely out of the blue.”
“Why you?”
“Lesley was locked up because of you. She escaped-she’s a resourceful woman-and wanted revenge. For the jail thing, obviously, and the millions of dollars your meddling has cost her. Only her operation was down the pan. The NYPD was all over it. And the feds. Parts she couldn’t control. So she needed a new partner. Fast.”
“The first part I can understand. I like a good bit of revenge, myself. But how did she wind up at your door?”
“She talked to her sources-the ones that were left-and reviewed her options. I may be a late entry, but I’m top of the FBI charts right now. So she heard about me and thought we could help each other. Mutual benefit, she called it.”
“Why did she go after Tanya? Not me, direct?”
“No one knew where you were. You’d moved hotels, apparently, and not told the FBI where you’d gone. So she needed bait. And a substitute, in case she failed to reel you in. She likes her fun dirty, or so she led me to believe.”
“OK. So, Lesley wants revenge. That part’s clear. But what’s in it for you?”
“Taking you out of the game. The FBI are predictable. I got the measure of them a long time ago. Any agent I can’t fool, I bribe. You, on the other hand, are a loose cannon. I wanted you out of the picture.”
“By dragging me to the clinic?”
“For starters. Then you were supposed to be running all around the city, looking for Tanya. So when you turned up here and refused to talk, I improvised. Added a little icing to the cake.”
“Lesley’s not the only resourceful one, then. I’m impressed. So, is it far, to where she’s holding Tanya?”
“Answer my questions and you’ll find out. Continue to annoy me, and you won’t.”
“What do you want to know?”
“At last. Now you’re being sensible. So. Back to the FBI. They didn’t respond to my warning in the way I expected. I need to understand why. Start with the visit to the clinic. They found the memory stick?”
“Your ultimatum? Yes.”
“What action did they take?”
“They flew to Washington.”
“Why?”
“The wording was ambiguous. They thought you’d planted bombs there.”
“That’s interesting. Something to tighten up on, next time. If there has to be a next time.”
“I take it we’re not talking about bombs? Conventional ones?”
“No.”
“You’ve been implanting capsules of that drug? Remotely controlled? In your patients? Three hundred and twenty of them?”
“Yes. Hammurabi pods, I’ve named them. Ancient justice, modern technology.”
“That’s fine. But when you talk about them, remember who your audience is. Less history. Less symbolism. More facts. More specifics. Then perhaps fewer people will get hurt.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But tell me, what did the FBI do when they got to Washington?”
“Launched into their standard bomb-threat protocols, they said. I can’t tell you what those are because I didn’t go with them.”
“No, you didn’t. That’s interesting, in itself. Why did you stay behind?”
“To look for Tanya, just as you planned. Then my thoughts strayed back to your video. I put two and two together.”
“And you sprang into action, single-handed?”
“No. I called them. The FBI bosses. I tried to fetch them back.”
“But they didn’t come? And they only mustered up ten people? Raided one building?”
“I don’t think they really believed me.”
“Well, at least you can go to your grave knowing you were right.”
“That’s a comfort. But on that, let me ask you something. The FBI. I told them to shut off your patients’ broadband. If they had done it, would that have helped?”
“Of course. Without a signal, nothing would happen.”
“The devices weren’t set to go off at a certain time? Or if they lost contact?”
“No.”
“Why not? That would be a lot easier.”
“If you just wanted to kill a lot of people in a messy way, yes.”
“Which differs from what you’re doing, how?”
Taylor glared at me.
“You fool,” he said. “How can you ask me that. You saw the video. You saw what I want.”
“Yes, I saw it,” I said. “You want vengeance. People drowning in blood. That seemed clear.”
“How stupid can you be? Vengeance is not the goal. It’s a language. A means to an end.”
“What end? More money, somehow? Haven’t you sucked enough out of the place?”
“My mission in all this is to bring an end to the killing. That should be obvious, even to a government puppet like you.”
“You’re killing people because you’re against killing people? You don’t see a tiny discrepancy there?”
“Do I have to spell it out? The people who are going to die, they’re dying anyway. What I’m doing is taking their pointless, inevitable deaths and giving them a purpose. Individually their passing means nothing. By molding them together, symbolically, I can save thousands of other lives.”
“Really. And who made that your job?”
“Everyone has a purpose in life, Mr. Trevellyan. A unique part to play. You have yours. This is mine.”
“How do you know? Maybe your purpose is running your clinics? Saving all those innocent Americans you were so worried about.”
“I thought so, too, at first. I was saving lives. A handful. And that was enough. Until I woke up to the full potential of what I’d created.”
“What woke you? Your new partners waving dollar bills under your nose?”
“I’ve told you, it’s not about the money. The golden goose is dead now, anyway. My clinics are finished because of this. And there are no new partners. I misled you about that. I brought those guys in myself, because the old help was too slow.”
“So what raised the stakes?”
“It’s hard to give it a name. Call it fate, if you like. I had a very special opportunity. Only I was too blind to see it. I was happy messing around in the foothills instead of heading for the summit. So I was given a wake-up call. That’s the way I see it.”
“Who called? Your bank? Your broker?”
“My wife. In a way.”
“Oh, OK. Blame your other half. That’s original.”
“Your FBI friends didn’t tell you about her?”
“Nothing specific. Just a rumor you’d got married.”
“We did. Seven years ago. And then, because I had my head in the sand for so long, she was taken from me.”
“She was kidnapped? You’re being coerced into this?”
“No, for goodness’ sake. She was killed. By the U.S. Army. And you know when?”
“Obviously not.”
“March 20, 2008. What do you think about that?”
“Well, it’s a terrible shame and everything. But really, so what? Dozens of people were probably killed that day.”
“Are you brain-dead? The date? The fifth anniversary of the invasion? My wife, an Iraqi? Me, an American? And me, the only person on the planet with the resources to end the war without wasting a single extra life? Apart from the worthless fools who’ve interfered, of course.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
