F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 (52 page)

           
"Just one more thing left to
do, Oliver, "
Duncan
said as he wedged one of the heavy kitchen chairs under the doorknob as
a precaution. He braced the kitchen table behind that for extra insurance.
"Make yourself comfortable down there. I'll let you out later when I'm
through." No windows down there, no phone. Oliver would be neutralized
until
Duncan
had finished what he had to do.

 
          
"She's
not at my house, if that's what you're thinking. I told her to disappear to
someplace safe and I don't even know where. So if you're thinking of finding
her and destroying the evidence, forget it. You'll never find her."

           
"We'll see about that, "
Duncan said.

 
          
A
good chance Gin wouldn't go into hiding without stopping at her own place
first. Especially if she felt safe.

 
          
He
checked his coat pocket to make sure he still had his minitransducer with him,
then he hurried to the garage.

 
          
Yes,
as Oliver had guessed, he was certainly interested in retrieving the implant
Gin had excised from her leg. That was hard evidence against him. But that
wasn't the only implant involved here.

 
          
Good
thing he'd had the foresight last night to place two in her thigh.

 
          
Gin
felt as if her apartment were filled with water. Every move was an effort. The
very air around her weighed her down. It was an ongoing test of her will to
resist crawling into her bed, still unmade from this morning, and pulling the
covers over her head.

 
          
At
least she'd managed to change her sweaty clothes and underwear. A shower would
have been wonderful but she couldn't risk the time She'd take one in
Arlington
, and give her folks some excuse about
having the flu or something to explain her sickly looks.

 
          
She
was feeling weaker than ever as she finished packing a small gym bag with
another change of clothes. But at least the chills had stopped.

 
          
As
a matter of fact, she was beginning to feel warm. Hot even. Maybe the
amoxicillin was kicking in. Or maybe the Tylenol was breaking the fever.

 
          
She
was actually a little clammy now.

 
          
And
then a cool draft wrapped around her feet and she thought she heard a click
from the front room.

 
          
The
front door?

 
          
Oh,
no. It couldn't be.

 
          
Trembling,
feeling weaker with each thudding heartbeat, she stepped to her bedroom door
and peered into the front room. It looked empty. But it was dark, full of long
shadows cast by the light from her bedroom.

 
          
She'd
left it dark so that anyone passing by wouldn't see the lights and know she was
home.

 
          
Her
gaze darted to the mantle where she'd left the bottle with the implant. Still
there. She shuffled over and grabbed it. Yes. Same bottle. And there was the
implant, safe inside.

 
          
Suddenly
the glass tingled against her skin. Gin watched in horror as the implant
shriveled and dissolved into a puddle of liquid. The membrane was gone, leaving
only the TPD and a few floating streaks of dried blood.

 
          
She
heard a rustle behind her and
Duncan
was there, stepping out of the shadows, the
pager in his hand. Tears streaked his cheeks, his expression was tortured, his
voice husky, hovering on the edge of a sob.

 
          
She
turned to run, to scream for help, but she could not. Her mouth was dry, and
she was so weak. Without taking her eyes off him, she reached out a shaky hand
and found the edge of the couch. Two steps were all she could manage before she
slumped onto the cushions.

 
          
"I'm
sorry, Gin. You've left me no alternative. This is something I must do. Not
just for me. For all of us." Gin opened her mouth but could not speak. Her
body was bathe in sweat. She could feel it running down her skin in rivulets.
An angry buzz was growing in her head.

 
          
Duncan
stepped forward and took the bottle from
her slick, nerveless fingers.

 
          
"I
know you'll never forgive me, Gin. But I hope someday you'll understand why I
had to do this." The buzzing grew louder as Gin tried to lift herself from
the couch, to reach for
Duncan
, claw at him, but then the already darkened room went completely black,
and the buzz exploded into a deafening roar, and she felt herself falling back
. . .

 
          
But
she never landed.

FRIDAY

           
DUNCAN
HAD LOST ALL HEART FOR THIS SCHEME.

 
          
Feeling
utterly miserable, he drove through
Chevy Chase
in the predawn grayness and thought about Gin. He'd thought of little else
since last night. He wondered how she was. He'd called 911 from the first
public phone he found after leaving her and gave the operator Gin's address,
saying there was an unconscious woman in the apartment.

 
          
The
E.M.Ts would come and take her away. He hadn't stayed around. The police would
be noting any onlookers, wondering which one had made the call.
Duncan
couldn't afford to be seen.

 
          
Placing
a second implant in the trocar after he'd pierced Gin's thigh had been a
last-second decision. A subliminal voice, more aware of her tenacity and
relentless determination than his conscious mind, must have whispered to hlm,
urging him to buy himself some insurance where Gin was concerned. Whatever it
was, it had been right on the money.

 
          
Gin
had cut her own leg open and dug out one of the implants.

 
          
But
only one.
Duncan
had dissolved both, the one in the bottle
and the one still in her thigh. The evidence was gone, and so was a brilliant
mind. It would be years before the effects of the TPD wore off. Gin would find
it almost impossible to get licensed when she recovered.

 
          
All
her years of training, worthless. All her hopes for a career in medicine,
dashed.

 
          
Duncan
had sobbed like a child all the way home.
He'd had to sneak into his own house so he wouldn't have to speak to Oliver. He
knew his brother was comfortable down in the basement. It was heated and had
its own bathroom, the extra fridge was down there, filled with juices and soft
drinks. Every convenience but a phone.

 
          
Oliver
probably spent a more comfortable night than I did,
Duncan
thought.

 
          
Duncan
had lain awake the entire night on the
couch, hearing Oliver occasionally shout his name, and watching over and over
against the backs of his eyelids the replay of Gin's wounded, terrified
expression before she passed out.

 
          
For
a while he considered dropping all his plans. He could call that Secret Service
agent who'd given him his card, Decker was his name, and tell him the surgery
was off. Or call Dr. VanDuyne and tell him to tell his patient, the president,
to go to hell and find another surgeon to fix his goddamn eyelids.

 
          
But
after all he'd gone through, he couldn't allow himself such a luxury. Not after
what he'd done to Gin. Unconscionable, but he'd done it for a cause. To fail to
follow through would mean he'd made her suffer for nothing. And that would be
monstrous.

 
          
That
was why he was driving to the surgicenter at 4:3O A.M., half an hour earlier
than planned. Oliver was still locked in the basement at home. As soon as the
president left for
Camp
David
, hopefully
carrying an implant in his thigh,
Duncan
would return and release Oliver. What
happened after that would be up to his younger brother.

 
          
Possibly
he could convince Oliver to keep quiet. He'd return the remaining TPD and swear
he'd done nothing to the president. He'd say he'd suffered through a period of
aberrant behavior but he was better now, and he was going into therapy. He'd
profess to know nothing of Gin's condition, and swear again that he'd gone
looking for her last night but had been unable to find her. Oliver would
suspect, but he couldn't know. After all, Gin had removed the implant, Oliver
had seen it himself. And if
Duncan
could convince him that he was on the straight and narrow from now on,
that they should put all this behind them, Oliver might go along.

 
          
Probably.

 
          
Hopefully.

 
          
After
all, if the affair were made public,
Duncan
's opprobrium would attach to Oliver, and to
Oliver's implants. His invention would be forever tainted by its misuse with
harmful intent. The FDA might even hold up its approval.

 
          
Oliver
will keep his peace,
Duncan
told himself. What harms me harms his implants. And he knows the good
they can do will far outweigh the harm I've done.

 
          
He
unlocked the private entrance and walked inside. He went to the keypad to
disable the alarm and found it already off. Damn it.

 
          
Barbara
had forgotten again to set it before she left. If she weren't such a good
secretary . . .

 
          
He'd
deal with her next week. Right now he had other concerns. The advance team from
the Secret Service would be arriving in about half an hour to secure the
building.

 
          
Plenty
of time to fill an implant with TPD.

 
          
He
turned on the inside hall lights and outside spots, then went to his office. He
froze when he turned on his office lights and saw the books, journals, and
papers scattered across the floor. The office was a shambles. Someone had
broken in and torn it apart. Why? What could they be looking for?

 
          
The
TPD?

 
          
He
leapt to his desk. He groaned when he saw the splintered drawer.

 
          
It
looked as if someone had taken a hammer to it and smashed it open.

 
          
He
rifled through the contents. The TPD vial was gone. So was the trocar.

 
          
No!

 
          
His
heart tore into overdrive. He hurried back into the hall and stood looking up
and down its length. Somebody had found the TPD and stolen it.

 
          
But
who? Oliver was locked up and Gin was in an emergency room somewhere. Who else
knew about?

 
          
Duncan
whirled as he heard a faint noise, like a
chair being moved. It had come from down the hall. He saw that the door to the
lower level was open.

 
          
From
downstairs? Who would be down in the records room or, Oliver's lab!

 
          
Moving
as quietly as possible,
Duncan
hurried along the hall and tiptoed down the stairs. At the bottom he
saw light flooding out from the open door to Oliver's lab. And noises from within.
Oliver must have escaped from the basement. Gin had told him where the TPD was
hidden and now he was here disposing of it.

 
          
Discarding
all caution,
Duncan
raced forward to the door.

 
          
"Oh!"
The word clogged in his throat, shutting off his air. He couldn't breathe.

 
          
A
pale, disheveled woman in a sweater and sweatpants, with wild-looking dark
hair, stood at the counter, the vial of TPD in her hand. She looked up. Her
wide, shocked eyes spit dark fire at him.

 
          
He
found his voice. "Gin!" As she raised her arm to hurl the vial at
him,
Duncan
lunged for her, catching her arm before she
completed the motion. She screamed, scratching his face with her nails and
beating at him with her free hand as he tried to pry the vial from her fingers.

 
          
Lord,
she was strong, like an angry tigress, but he fended her off and finally
managed to get the vial away from her. And then she attacked him with both
hands, screeching incoherently through her clenched teeth. She was a banshee, a
female berserker. Was this what the TPD had done to her?

 
          
And
then she broke away from him and darted toward the door. He caught her arm and
swung her around against the counter, then slammed the door closed and leaned
his back against it.

 
          
He
faced her, staring at her as she stared at him, both panting.

 
          
"You
bastard!" she screamed, as tears started in her eyes. "You rotten
filthy son of a bitch! How could you do that to . . . me? With that, she folded
her arms on the counter, lowered her head onto them, and began to sob."

 
          
Duncan
was dumbfounded. She seemed sane now.
Upset, yes, but completely rational. But the implant . . . the TPD. Could the
transducer have failed to dissolve it?

 
          
That
had to be it. Low power, interference, whatever the reason, the ultrasound had
failed.

 
          
Good
Lord. What did he do now?

 
          
One
thing was certain, He needed time to think. He turned to the door, found the
lock, and twisted it. If nothing else that would slow her up if she tried to,
He cried out as a cold, sharp stab of pain pierced the back of his thigh. He
clutched at the spot and turned.

 
          
Gin
stood directly behind him, facing him, the trocar clutched in her hand like a
dagger.

 
          
Duncan
's blood froze. He snatched the trocar from
her.

 
          
"No!
You didn't! Gin, you didn't " She nodded slowly, her eyes wild, a slow
smile spreading across her face.

 
          
Over
her shoulder
Duncan
spotted a tray on the counter with three implants and a syringe. He
touched the back of his leg again and checked his fingers.

 
          
Blood.

 
          
His
sick fear was overcome by a flash of anger. But as he stepped toward Gin she
raised her other hand. Her fingers were wrapped around the transducer handle of
the tabletop ultrasound Oliver used in his experiments on the membranes.

 
          
Duncan
slammed himself back against the door.

 
          
"No,
Gin!" He'd wanted to shout the words but they came out in a hoarse
whisper. "Please . . . don't!"

           
"Why not?" she said,
still smiling crazily.

 
          
The
wild look in her eyes terrified him to the very core of his being.

 
          
She
was teetering on the edge. One wrong word, one wrong move, and she'd slip
completely out of control.

 
          
"Why
not?" she repeated. "You wanted to do it to me."

           
"No, Gin. That was the last
thing I wanted. I had no choice. I,"

           
"Spare me the lies!" she
said, jabbing the transducer at him. "I passed out last night because I
was sick and scared and weak. But you thought it was the TPD hitting my system.
You tried to fry my brain last night,
Duncan
. And you came damn close. If my fingertip
hadn't happened to brush against that second implant while I was digging out
the first, I'd be in the lockup ward at D. C. General right now. As it was, I
came to and got out of my apartment just before the ambulance arrived."