Page 93 of Blood and Fire
“Explain to me again how you and Melanie are in Tacoma, thumbs fully inserted up your asses, a six hour drive away from this disaster.”
Hobart passed the buck. “Ah…ah…well, Zoe was team leader, and I…ah…she’d decided that speed was crucial, so she, ah…well, our intelligence indicated that McCloud was going to be—”
“Do not speak of intelligence,” King cut in. “That quality has not been demonstrated to me, certainly not by you. No one else available? What about Nadia? She’s had three times as much combat experience as you, Hal or Jeremy. Why was she not on the team?”
“Uh…uh…well, Zoe assigned her to Aaro, and he—”
“Who the hell is Aaro?” he bellowed.
“An associate of the McClouds. He transported Ranieri and Parr to the cabin, after the fight at the diner. Zoe wanted Nadia to plant tracking and spy software on Aaro’s phone, and the only way—”
“Plantingtracking softwaretook precedence over this mission? How far is she from the cabin? Patch her in to me immediately.”
“Um…there’s a problem. With Nadia.”
“What?” he roared.
“Well, uh…she’s dead.” Hobart’s voice was a miserable croak.
King went very cold. Several seconds ticked by. “Explain.”
“She, ah…her cell phone just exploded. Twenty minutes ago.”
King struggled for self control. “It took you twenty minutes to come to the conclusion that this fact might be of interest to me?”
Hobart began a gabbling litany of excuses. King called up Nadia’s signal, to see for himself. Sure enough. Flatlined. “Where is her body?”
Hobart hesitated. King exerted effort not to call Hobart’s Level Ten command sequences, and make him stop using oxygen he did not deserve to breathe, since he had no brain cells to nourish.
“She was at the Justice Center, at Southwest Third Avenue,” Hobart said. “Her tag is moving now. I imagine she’s being transported to the county medical examiner.”
Another body with the ME, to keep Reggie, Cal, Tom and Martin company. No way to clean up. No damage control. Again.
“Show me the satellite shot over Zoe again,” he said.
Waving conifers filled the screen. King stared at them in silence, as if he could find some pattern, some plan in the wintry forest.
Then he saw it. A torso, barely visible in camo fabric, emerging from under an overhanging cliff. Crawling out, onto tumbled rocks.
Zoe struggled to her feet, stumbled towards the creek and waded into the water. King winced as she lost her balance, splashing full length. She struggled upright, swaying. Lifting her face to the sky, her big, dark eyes imploring. She held the com. She lifted it to her ear.
“Patch her through to me,” he commanded.
The sound quality changed. He heard the staticky buzz, and beyond, birds, water, wind rushing in the device’s microphone.
“Zoe?” he asked, and then yelled. “Zoe! Do you hear me?”
“I’m ready.” Zoe’s voice was barely audible, a froglike croak.
“Ready for what?” he snapped, irritated.
She blinked up at the sky. “I failed you,” she said. “I’m ready.” She closed her eyes, waiting for her Level Ten death command.
The martyred look on Zoe’s ravaged face made King’s teeth grind. As if she could have it so easy. Watching Zoe die was a luxury he could not afford. For now. “No, Zoe,” he said sharply. “Get out of the water.”
She gaped at him, stupidly. It infuriated him. The one tool he had on the ground was blue-lipped, standing in icy water like a shit-brained lump. “Move, Zoe,” he commanded. “You must fix this.”
She stepped forward, fell to her knees. Icy water sloshed over her chest, her shoulder. She half crawled, half swam to the bank.Hold the com to your ear, bitch. Do it.She crawled onto the rocks, lifted the phone. Her ragged panting became audible.