Deliverance (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

M
aliha was passing through the wind farms on her way back to Chicago in the middle of the night when something astonishing happened. She felt Yanmeng’s sweet touch on her shoulder. He was remote viewing her.

She was so unprepared for it, and so overwhelmed with emotion, that she swerved the Zonda onto the shoulder of the highway at ninety miles per hour. She fought to keep the car under control as she slowed down enough to pull back into her lane without flipping. The nearest vehicle behind her was a semi, about a quarter mile back. She put on her emergency flashers and pulled over in a controlled fashion.

The touch came again, a little stronger, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Alive, alive, alive! Oh, my friend . . .

There was a knock on her window. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she noticed the truck’s headlights. The driver had pulled off on the shoulder behind her.

“Somethin’ I can do for ya, miss? You got car trouble?”

Maliha didn’t roll down her window. She had to be cautious even though he seemed sincere. “No problem. Everything’s okay. Thanks for stopping.”

“Should I call the Highway Patrol?”

“No. Really.”

“I seen you go off the road. I got some hot coffee if you want it.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’m fine. I’m going to ask you to leave now.”

“Whatever you say. Just tryin’ to help.”

She watched him walk away and turned her attention back to Yanmeng. She had the feeling she was wasting precious time.

Yanmeng tapped her on the shoulder several times. It seemed clear he wanted to tell her something, but how? There was no exchange of thoughts. Maliha had a flash of inspiration. Yanmeng had been able to move his son Xietai’s blade when it was descending on Maliha’s back. If he could deflect that powerful blow, he could move Maliha’s hand when she was cooperative.

She looked around for something to write on and spotted her briefcase. Turning on the car’s interior light, she scrambled for something that would write boldly on the light tan leather. Nothing was available, so she propped her left arm on a jacket and cut a gash with a knife. Dipping her finger in the blood, she wrote the alphabet on the side of the briefcase, forming every third letter and leaving the rest as dashes to save time and blood. She wrote the numbers zero through nine, and made two circles, one with “yes” inside and the other with “no.”

Maliha had drawn a basic Ouija board. Yanmeng, viewing her from above, would be able to see it. She moved her hand lightly over the “talking board” and spelled out the first question.

R u safe

For a minute nothing happened, and Maliha worried that her friend wasn’t strong enough to move her hand. Her hand began to wobble and then moved in a smoother way, about an inch above the board, to one of the circles she’d drawn.

Yes

She spelled out another question.

where

Her hand, moving under his control, spelled out
3481
. She memorized it. It had to be a room number. Then Yanmeng asked a question of his own.

coma

She pointed at the “yes” circle. She knew he’d been in a coma.

eliu ok we get u

Her hand trembled with the relief he felt as he watched her spell out that message. It was his turn.

danger

In his desperate circumstances, he was worried about the danger involved in rescuing him. Maliha suppressed a groan.

get u

Her hand moved after he read the message, but it dragged slowly across the leather. He was at the limit of his strength.

go now

love u

lov

His touch moved to caress her cheek, and she leaned into it. Then it was gone.

The cut on Maliha’s arm had stopped bleeding. She could see that the edges were smooth and would heal well. She wrapped her arm with strips torn from a T-shirt from her duffel bag.

She couldn’t wait to share the good news. She phoned Amaro and told him. There was relief in his voice, and she wondered if all of them had been worried about the same thing—that it wasn’t going to turn out well.

“We have a location and we’re going in. Be sure to tell Eliu the good news. I’m going to get to an airport and fly home. This is going to take some planning.”

“Hound told me the place has major security.”

“Yanmeng implied as much. Then we need a major plan.”

“Hey, what are you going to do with your new car if you fly home?”

“Long-term parking.”

“What makes you think it’ll still be there when you go back to pick it up?”

“The Zonda protects herself. She slaps the hand that tries any funny stuff.”

“Oh, come on—you think an alarm is going to stop anyone?”

“No. I meant the flamethrowers and the electric shocks. I guess it would be safer to lock the beastie up. I’ll rent a storage unit.”

B
ack in her Chicago home, Maliha convened a planning session. She escorted Eliu from the secure haven to her public condo to join in and to learn the latest about her husband. Maliha had called her from the airplane and told her about the remote viewing contact. She’d been worried that Eliu would feel slighted because Yanmeng hadn’t had time to view Eliu in the brief period that he was alert. She needn’t have worried. Yanmeng had sent a message to his wife first. It was Maliha who came second.

Not practical as far as his rescue, but I would have done the same thing if I were him—go for my spouse. I like the sound of that.

Amaro rolled a large dry-erase board out from his bedroom. What he did with it, Maliha never knew, but he’d requested it and that was good enough for her. Now it came in handy. Hound displayed the pictures he’d taken of Qixotic Labs on a large monitor
,
and then drew a diagram on the board. Eliu reacted with shock.

“I can’t believe he’s locked away in there. You’ll never get him out,” she said.

“We will. I told him so. There are no limits on this operation. We’ll do whatever it takes.” Maliha said it firmly. Eliu nodded, but hesitantly. Maliha didn’t blame her. The woman didn’t follow their activities closely, and she had no idea what they were capable of doing.

“Amaro, are there aerial photos available?”

“Only from military satellites. I know someone who has access,” Amaro said.

“There’s something the great Amaro can’t do?” Hound said.

“I’d rather call in a specialist and not waste time. Lady Gray already has experience with milsat.”

“I didn’t think you hackers made nice with each other,” Hound said.

Amaro glared at him. “I’ll go set that up. Photos in ten.”

“What’s this Lady Gray like? Is she hot?”

“Cut it out, Hound. We have a lot of work to do,” Maliha said.

“Just playing with the kid.”

“Not helpful.” Maliha looked over the drawing on the board. “Forget about going in the front, past those checkpoints. We don’t have time to set up IDs, and we’d have to make it through the retinal scanner before even entering the building.”

“Makes you wonder what the DOD is doing in there,” Amaro said. He’d come back after making contact with his hacker friend.

“How about we blow the whole place up on the principle of ‘There be Evil’? That is, after Yanmeng’s out,” Hound said.

Explosives. Good.

“We want to minimize casualties. Not everyone in the building is evil,” Maliha said.

Tranquilizer guns.

“Matter of opinion,” Hound said. “Blow holes in the fences and go in with an armed force. I can have a team of mercs there in a few hours.”

Holes in the fence—distraction.

“Automatic weapons in the guard towers would take out a ground-based assault,” Maliha said. “Unless . . . unless we knock out the towers first. But if we do that on the way in, we’re going to have an army of guards after us when we get into the building.”

“Stealth entry, big-bang exit,” Amaro said.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Hound said. He slapped his fist into his palm.

“How will Yanmeng be safe during this exit?” Eliu said. “Don’t get carried away with the logistics of it. You’re there to get
him
out safely. Somebody has to carry him because he’ll still be in a coma. Badly injured and needing special care, too. He won’t be able to do his part in a firefight.”

Get him out by air?

Amaro got a text message. “The aerial shots are ready.” He brought in a computer and put them up on the monitor in a slide show. They all sat staring at the screen.

“I’ve got some ideas. Hound, call your mercenaries. We need support for the big bang. They won’t be going into the building, just raising hell to help us get out. They have to be able to, um, exercise restraint in not blowing everybody away. Make it clear their mission is diversion.”

“Got it. Equipment?” Hound said.

“A lot, and I have a source if you don’t. We’ll talk about that in a few minutes. I have something to get rolling, too. We’re going to need air support.”

“Damn. I wish Glass was here.” Hound’s fiancée was a helicopter pilot. “She’s experienced under fire. Rock steady.”

“No time for that,” Maliha said. “I know of a rescue team with plenty of short-haul experience and sealed lips. They do extractions from hostiles.”

Hound nodded.

“Who’s going into the building?” Amaro asked.

Maliha noticed that Hound stiffened at the question. His mouth narrowed to a line.

What?

“Hound and I,” she said. “Hound, you’ll carry Yanmeng and I’ll have your back.”

The corners of Hound’s mouth turned up almost imperceptibly.

Oh. He thought I was going to suggest Jake.

“What about Jake?” Amaro said. “He . . .”

“He’s busy tracking down Dr. Bakkum’s son. There’s no one who could do a better job of protecting him, and we owe that to the doctor.”

She walked over to the monitor and pointed at a fenced area separated from the main compound. There were several small buildings, some circular tanks, and a large rectangle of water-reflecting sunlight. “This is how we’re getting in.”

“What’s that?” Amaro said.

“It’s a water treatment plant for Qixotic. They must have a need for specialized treatment and they don’t use regular sewers. The end of the road for the water is a constructed wetland—see those trees and tall grasses with what looks like streams running through them? That spot that’s reflecting sunlight is a sewage settlement lagoon,” Maliha said.

“Specialized treatment, like chemical removal?” Amaro said.

Maliha nodded. “In addition to the usual blackwater processing. The settlement lagoon is the first step. Raw sewage goes in there, scum like oil rises to the top and heavier wastes sink to the bottom as sludge. The water that’s left in the middle is drained off and ready for further treatment. When you consider what kind of stuff Qixotic dumps down the drain, that lagoon should be toxic as hell. That’s why the only security there would be a fence to keep the public from stumbling in and coming out as mutant superheroes.”

“Seriously? We’re going into that?” Hound said. “Shit.”

“In twenty-four hours, if we can put it all together by then,” Maliha said.

There was a knock on the door. Maliha dashed there and yanked open the door, expecting to see Dr. Bakkum depositing another box out in the hallway. There was no one in sight, but there was a box.

The doctor couldn’t get away that fast. I was here in a couple of seconds. The messenger had to be Elizabeth.

Maliha had a sinking feeling. The box was fairly large and heavy.

Big enough to hold a head. Not now. Not when we’re so close.

Maliha cut open the box. Eliu picked up on Maliha’s sharply elevated level of worry and buried her face in Amaro’s shoulder.

Inside the box was Yanmeng’s severed foot, a note, and a picture. The picture showed Dr. Bakkum hanging upside down over a tub, her throat slit and blood drained.

Sickening. Damn Elizabeth.

Hound came over to look. “That’s one nasty woman.”