Encrypted (60 page)

“Well?” Dr. Henderson asked as his eyes flicker
ed
over to the CIA liaison. “If this doesn’t clump
,
we have broken about half a dozen laws for nothing.”

“It isn’t instantaneous,” Amanda answered
,
well aware that simply drawing Devlin’s blood without his permission was considered assault. “It can take a few minutes.”

She got discouraged
,
though
,
as the fluids just swirled together going from clear on one side and red to the other, to a pinkish fluid in the middle. Absolutely no sign of antibodies
were
in Devlin’s blood.

“Maybe I should check under the microscope.” It had been years, probably back in Microbiology 101, that she’d performed such a crude test. “I might be able to identify micro-agglutination.”

Dr. Henderson nodded as Devlin nearly tipped his chair over backwards. So much for staying quiet.

When Amanda picked up the slide, tilting it
accidentally
, a clump settled on the edge of the fluid pool. She had forgotten step three. Rock the slide to isolate the clumping on the periphery.

Gently
,
she tilted the slide back and forth as more and more
—
and more
—
clumps appeared.

Amanda and Dr. Henderson looked from the slide
,
to each other
, and
to Devlin.

The CIA liaison
was
suddenly perfectly still.

* * *

Ronnie shifted on the chopper’s seat. Not because of rough flying, although the storm brewing was knocking them around far more on this leg of the trip than it had heading out of Manhattan, but because there was literally no room for her legs. The
helicopter
’s
interior was crammed full of computing equipment and weapons.

Zach sat on the floor of the chopper like a little boy next to a Christmas tree. He felt the heft of each gun, turning it over in his hand
s and
checking the sights. Then
,
if the weapon passed muster, he would try to find somewhere to pack it. He already had
,
like
,
four guns on his hip with extra clips, plus a smaller pistol on each ankle. The guy was going to be walking bowlegged soon.

“Seriously, Ronnie, there are
,
like
,
three other satellites closer than the one you are trying to re-task,” Quirk whined
,
despite the fact he had enough toys littered around him to make him a very happy boy as well.

“I need
this
one.”

Quirk snorted. “Ronnie, you’ve got to get over your superstitions. Just because a satellite’s call sign shares your birthday
,
does not make it your ‘lucky’ satellite.”

Ronnie just shrugged, letting him think that was her reason for wanting this particular satellite. Far better than arguing over the real one. She did
,
however
,
have to shut him up before he sniffed out her real ploy.

“There
!
” she said as she brought up the satellite image of the coordinates off
of
Maine’s northern coast. “Satisfied?”

Hitting the zoom key, Ronnie punched in deeper and deeper to the structure that sat upon that rocky cliff. It was some kind of building. No
,
more like a mansion. No, the closer they got
,
the more it looked like the Hidden Hand had built themselves a castle.

A full-on medieval castle.

Although in New England
,
just being a castle wasn’t that big a deal. There were probably a dozen of the structures within a hundred miles. But a castle
this
big? With turrets and ramparts and a central courtyard?
That
was a big deal.

Even Francois, who had gone back to his mumbling meditation, came over for a look. Was it a bad sign that the Frenchman’s pupils spread wide at the sight?

“What is it made of?” Zach asked as he rose from the floor and made room on the seat next to her.

She switched modes, finding one of the satellite's
opticals
that registered density. “Looks like stone, but this portion…” Ronnie indicated the centermost section of the castle, right at the heart of the compound. “Everything is pinging back. It must be some high-density metal. Titanium or tungsten.”

“Which is also going to shield the interior to any EM pulse we might use,” Quirk added.

Ronnie felt that weight on her breastbone again. Even though she knew the Hidden Hand would have some gnarly defenses
,
it was still a blow to see them in action.

“Do we have anything to penetrate the metal shielding?” Zach asked.

She looked
at
Quirk
,
even though she knew the answer. Even if they had a hundred acetylene torches, it would take them a week to cut through metal that thick. Zach glanced
at
both of them
, but
didn’t even bother to ask for clarification.

“I’m assuming that
this
is where they would be hiding any vaccine
—
if they do have any?”

Ronnie nodded
,
letting him figure out that despite all the high
-
tech equipment and firepower they had, they didn’t have enough to get to the vaccine.

“What’s that flare there on the edge of the image?” Quirk asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ronnie answered as she zoomed in to the base of the castle.

“Switch to ground-
penetrating radar,” Zach suggested
. T
hen
,
when
she raised an eyebrow at
him, he finished. “I mean, you have
got
to have some ground-
penetrating radar, right?”

Of course her satellite ha
d ground-penetrating radar. S
he was just glad Zach could appreciate that fact.

A few keystrokes later
,
the image shifted from opaque angles to a jumble of lines and squiggles.

“Here,” Quirk said trying to take her laptop. “Put it through the 3
-D
imaging software.”

Ronnie held tight to her computer. “I’ve got it.”

Okay, after about ten attempts to bring the image into focus, maybe she didn’t.

“Don’t be hogging the hologram if you can’t use it properly.”

But Ronnie finally figured it out, projecting the image in 3
-
D before them.

“Holy mother of…” Quirk breathed out.

“Damn,” Zach added.

Even Francois contributed, “
Baise
.”

The
castle
was
massive
,
with machine guns instead of archers for long-range defense
and a metal
-
encased core,
and
the grounds had a sprawling underground complex.

“Check out the heat signature,” Ronnie
said, pointing
to the lower chambers. “Or should I say
,
lack of heat signature
?
”

One room in
the
underground complex was showing a stable fifty-three degrees. The perfect temperature to store vials upon vials of vaccines.

“At least we know for sure
that
they are there,” Zach offered, clearly trying to cheer her up.

Which was great
—
except
that
they had a major problem. How in the hell were they going to break into the grounds, penetrate that metal shielding,
and
fight their way through the castle to the staircase that
led
them down into the completely rock
-
walled subterranean chamber?

Ronnie looked
at
the others.
No one exactly seemed brimming with ideas either
.

* * *

Francois sat back as the rest bandied
about
ideas for breaching the castle. Did they not know the Hidden Hand would have thought of each of these earthbound ploys? They’d had centuries to perfect their stronghold. Centuries of war and famine and strife to challenge their defenses and shore them up.

No.

The answer would come from the heavens
,
as it was wont to do. He gazed upon his arm. So many new symbols outlined in dried blood. The angels were talkative of late.
Almighty
God in
h
is wisdom had retreated from man’s daily life. In infinite understanding
,
God had left man to develop his own free will.

But the angels? Ah, the angels who loved man could not allow such evil as the Hidden Hand to flourish. They had walked amongst man,
teaching
those
who
would resist the Hand’s quest for dominion over the earth.

Many spoke of the end of days
—s
hout
ing
it from street corners and pulpits. But Francois did not, or more likely
,
refused to believe
,
that the true apocalypse was upon them. That this could not be God’s will for mankind.

Perhaps it was man who had gotten himself into this position
,
but it would be grace from on high that would deliver them from it.

Francois felt certain of such. So again
,
he studied the symbols on his arm
.
hoping to divine what the angels needed of him.

* * *

Quirk typed. That’s what he did best. Coding. Surveillance. Hacking. Ronnie and Zach were busy talking insertion points and tensile strength. While he loved building prototypes, the entire Mexico debacle had taught him one thing… do not try to fire those prototypes.

No, he was much happier with the current plan. Have him run all the cyber interference and leave the Captain America stuff to
Ozzie
and Harriet over there. Even now he had found miles upon miles worth of cabling hidden underground servicing buried gun turrets. They hadn’t even landed at the castle
,
and Quirk had saved Ronnie’s little
hiney
yet again.

He glanced over his computer monitor, mainly to check if the pilot was busy flexing those biceps of his, and found Francois, his hands pressed together in prayer. Yep, probably if there ever were a time for full
-
on begging
of
the heavens for a boon, it was now.

Quirk sent his own little request up to the big guy when he heard his name mentioned. Not in that good way
,
where Ronnie was reassuring Zach that Quirk was
,
in fact
,
the fastest coder in the world.

No. From the way she said his name,
Quirk could tell that
Ronnie wanted something from him. A large something. A
mega-sized
something. His eyes narrowed as he looked up to find her standing in front of him, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

Ugh
!
Perhaps there wasn’t a
G
od after all.

* * *

Lino
stood, patient and tall. Others scurried about the castle’s war room
,
worried for the fly
who
thought to spoil God’s picnic. The door behind him burst open and by the insufferable grunting the man made as he crossed the room, it could be only Deacon
Havar
.
Lino
did not turn or slide his eyes away from the long-range radar.

“I demand that you step aside,
Lino
.”

The man spoke as if he held God’s authority. Seldom did God allow a man such as
Havar
, filled with consistent failings
,
to hold
anything
of His
—
let alone authority.