Maybe

Darwin’s old job?”

“I can’t speak for the rest of the committee, but you’ll certainly get my vote.”

“What sort of proof will you require?”

“Her hands and head.”

“Both hands?”

“Yes.”

“How long do I have?”

“Minutes, not hours.”

“Count on me,” he says.

Darwin hangs up, thinking whatever happens, happens.

He tosses the voice-altering device in the trash, grabs his cell phone, suitcase, and doctor’s bag, and heads for the lobby.

From this point on, whether he lives or dies, he’ll do so as a civilian.

28

Lou Kelly.

SHERRY CHERRY WANTS Lou to sneak her out of Sensory Resources. She wants to go to dinner in Roanoke, someplace fancy. Then she’d like to spend the night with Lou in a nice hotel. Lou would like to do those things, too.

But he also wants to be head of Sensory Resources.

As Lou sees it, there are three issues. One, he’s fallen for Sherry, and wants her to be a big part of his life. Two, the chairman of Homeland Security has ordered her death. Three, Donovan Creed has ordered him to protect her at all costs.

If he lets Sherry live, he loses the Sensory job, and Creed will eventually bully the committee, the CDC, and the President himself into putting Sherry in the bunker in exchange for her loony tunes daughter, Rachel. If Lou kills Sherry, Creed will probably try to kill him. On the other hand…

Is there another hand?

Yes.

As head of Sensory Resources, Lou can discharge Creed, put a bounty on his head, and double the security around Sensory until Creed is terminated.

It’s not a great hand, but it’s the one he intends to play. He cringes, thinking about putting a bounty on Creed’s head. There are only so many times you can attempt to kill Donovan Creed and expect to live.

Lou’s been told by Holden Prescott he has minutes, not hours, to kill Sherry. But if he disconnects his phone, Prescott will assume he’s killed her and is busy disposing of her body.

Lou has every intention of being busy with Sherry’s body. It’s the least he can do. Give Sherry a nice evening and cap it off with one last round of sex before taking her life.

He doesn’t look forward to cutting off her head and hands, though.

29

Donovan Creed.

I’M ON THE jet with Miranda and Dr. P., heading back to Vegas, where I have every reason to believe my daughter is holed up in a hotel room with Rachel’s husband, Sam Case. There’s a slight chance she could be in there with some random guy, but I don’t believe a random guy would have booked the room in my name.

I’d call Kimberly, but I don’t want to take a chance on losing Sam. If she’s fallen for him, she might tip him off and help him escape.

The jet we’re in has four captain’s chairs, two facing forward, two back. There’s also a sofa and table just aft of the chairs. Two additional captain’s chairs rest against the back wall where the carry-on bags are stored. Behind that is a full-sized bathroom.

I’m riding backwards, in one of the captain’s chairs, facing Miranda. Dr. P. is semi-reclining on the sofa, facing me. He’s either napping, or pretending to nap. He told me Sam hasn’t left the bunker at Area B. Either that’s a lie, or Sam found a way to leave and re-enter Area B undetected.

I don’t think Dr. P. is lying about Sam. If he truly wants to retire from the business, why bother lying about Sam?

We’re at 40,000 feet now, and there’s no way Dr. P. can listen in on my calls while I’m watching him.

I call Callie.

“Hi boss,” she says.

“What’s up?”

“Same old. Can you talk?”

“Yes.”

“She’s still in there.”

“Have you gotten close enough to listen?”

“No. I don’t know how extensive her training has been, but if I’m close enough to hear, I’m close enough to be noticed through the peep hole.”

“Where are you?”

Callie laughs. “Down the hall, in the cubby with the ice machine. I’m using my makeup mirror to keep an eye on the room.”

“And Gwen?”

Callie sighs. “Gwen’s texting me to death. I’m either going to have to get a new girlfriend or get out of the business.”

“The pretty ones are always high maintenance,” I say, noting the smirk on Miranda’s pretty face. She glances behind her to make sure she’s not being watched, then lifts her tank top and gives me a double.

I smile, enjoying the view. She allows me five seconds of entertainment before putting the twins back to bed.

Callie says, “I can think of a dozen ways to get in their hotel room. And all of them involve eating a sandwich while watching the Dani Ripper thing on TV. After I tie Sam and Maybe to their chairs, of course.”

“I’ll bring you some fries,” I say. “In the meantime, eat ice.”

“Forget the fries. You’re buying me and Gwen a steak dinner at Switch.”

“She’ll eat steak?”

“On steak day.”

“She has a steak day?”

“Steak day, fruit day, smoothie day, vegetable day, sweet day-how many is that?”

“Who gives a shit?” I say.

“Good point.”

She pauses, then says, “Remember the last time we went there?”

“Switch?”

“Yeah.”

“I do. A lot’s happened since then.”