Generation 18: The Spook Squad 2 (12 page)

Sam frowned at him. “Why would having relatives make any difference?”

“Hopeworth policy. I guess they wanted to make sure no one could sue them if the tests went wrong.” A shudder ran through Allars’s slight frame. “Which they did, quite frequently.”

“Can you tell us anything about the sister?”

“Not really. But she was the spitting image of Em, that’s for sure. Looked about the same age, too. I only met her the once.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea of her adopted name, or where she lived?”

Allars shook his head.

Gabriel swore softly. “And you really can’t tell us anything else about the project Emma was on?”

“As I said, we didn’t dare talk about what we were involved in. But why don’t you go have a chat with Haynes or Cooper, if either of them is still alive?”

“Were they involved with Emma?” she asked.

“Those two—as well as White, Benson and Lyle—were the men in charge of Generation 18.”

“Then we’d better get to them before our murderer does,” Gabriel said, and immediately tapped the interface of his wristcom.

Sam studied Allars for a moment. The old man was staring at the photo again. He had the look of a man who’d seen more than enough of one lifetime. The look of a man who waited for death.

Then she frowned, remembering what he’d said earlier. “You said the military took her away. Do you know why?”

He shrugged and wiped his eyes again. “Precautionary measures. They said the lesions could be contagious.”

“But how did they know about them? Did either you or Meg tell them?”

He studied her for a long moment, his rheumy gaze intense. “No. We didn’t.”

And yet the military had known. Either the house was wired, or Meg and Allars had been. She was betting on the latter. “Would you mind standing up for a moment?”

The old man considered her request, then nodded and climbed slowly to his feet. She rose and lifted his grimy sweatshirt.

“What you looking for, girlie?”

She raised a finger to her lips. His gaze narrowed slightly, but he nodded. Maybe it was a stupid precaution, especially after all they’d asked, but right now, it was better safe than sorry. Besides, Allars was the one who’d said all military personnel were microchipped—and if they were chipping employees, why not ex-employees involved in important projects?

“I’m looking for something to squash that great big spider about to run up the arm of your chair,” she said, just in case there
were
listeners.

She carefully pinched the skin along his left side, working her way up toward the armpit. His flesh hung loosely from his skeletal frame, indicating he’d lost a lot of weight recently. Perhaps premature aging wasn’t the only issue he had.

Then she found it—something round and hard just under the skin near his armpit. She glanced at Gabriel.

“What?” he said.

“Want to pass me one of those newspapers? The ones here are too flimsy to squash that spider with.”

He raised an eyebrow but did as she bid before approaching Allars. She showed him the lump and then removed her fingers.

Gabriel pressed the old man’s flesh. “Quite ugly, isn’t it?”

“Nasty,” she replied. She grabbed the rolled-up paper and thumped the arm of the chair with it. Remotes jumped and rolled off onto the floor.

“Hey, watch them things,” Allars said. “They’re expensive to replace.”

She glanced at him. “Missed it. You got anything in the kitchen we could use?”

His gaze met hers, his expression shrewd. He knew she wasn’t talking about fly spray. “Yeah, in the cupboards, under the sink.”

She left the room and went in search of the kitchen. It lay at the far end of the house. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, but otherwise the kitchen was relatively clean. She found a sharp knife, then grabbed a pot. After putting the knife into the pot, she filled the pot with hot water. Lighting the stove, she leaned a hip against the sink and waited for the water to boil and clean the knife.

Crossing her arms, she stared out the window. The old man’s property was on a slight slope, and from the kitchen you could see the traffic on the nearby road.

Though it was early afternoon, a steady stream of cars rolled past. The constant, droning hum would have driven her mad had she lived here, but perhaps the old man liked it—and the reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone in this world.

When the knife was sterilized, she hunted around for some antiseptic and a Band-Aid, then headed back to the living room. It barely took a minute to remove the chip from the old man’s armpit. The cut wasn’t very deep. Like hers, the chip had been planted close to the surface. She patted away the blood, dabbed on some antiseptic and stuck a Band-Aid across the incision.

Gabriel dropped the knife back into the pot of water and held the microchip up to the light. It was bigger than the one they’d found in her—about the size of a small pea. He scanned its image with his wristcom, then dropped the bug to the floor and crushed it under his heel.

“You mean them bastards have been listening to me all these years?” Allars said immediately.

“I’d say so,” Gabriel said. “How else would they have found out about Meg?”

“Bastards.” The old man squinted at the circuitry remains on the floor. “But why would they bother doing something like that? They forced me into retirement, for Christ’s sake. Why would they want to keep track of me?”

“Maybe they were worried that some aspects of the tests they performed would have negative effects later in life.” Gabriel got a small bag from his pocket, then knelt and swept the remaining bits and pieces into the bag. “Of course, destroying the chip will warn them that something is wrong.”

“That’s how they knew about Meg,” Allars murmured.

“And maybe even Emma,” Sam suggested. Though why would they take Meg from Allars’s care and simply leave Emma to die? She glanced at Gabriel. “Did you find a chip in Emma?”

“It’s not something we would normally look for,” he said. “I’ll get them to check.”

Sam nodded, then picked up the knife and water and headed back to the kitchen. On the road below, a green army truck slowly cruised past.

Her heart leapt. It couldn’t be a coincidence, nor could it be a reaction to the microchip being destroyed. The military were fast, but they weren’t
that
fast. Either they’d been intending to pick up Allars anyway or they’d swung into action the minute she and Gabriel began questioning him. And that might mean the old man knew more than he was currently telling.

She waited, watching the traffic roll by. Eight minutes later, the truck did another drive-by. She walked back to the living room and went over to the window. Through the grime-darkened lace, she could see a military green Ford parked in the shade of a tree two houses down.

“We have company.” She stepped back, out of sight. “One out front, and one out back.”

“Damn, they moved fast.” Gabriel looked at the old man. “Do you want to go with them or not?”

Allars snorted. “I’ve spent half my life with them, lad, and look what it’s done to me. I don’t want to spend what’s left with them.”

“Then you’ll come with us.” Gabriel dug the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Sam’s hand. “Take the car around to the back street and meet us there.”

“There’s a truck around the back, cruising past every eight minutes.”

“Wait for the next pass, then give me a call.”

She nodded, grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Not looking at the Ford down the street, she climbed into the car and started it up. The green Ford didn’t follow as she moved off. They wanted Allars, obviously.

She turned left and stopped in the shadows of a gum tree. Four and a half minutes later, the truck rolled past the far end of the street.

She quickly dialed Gabriel’s number. “The truck’s just gone past. I’m moving into position now.”

“I’m on my way.”

She turned onto the main street and cruised down to Allars’s back fence. A minute dragged by, then the fence rocked and several palings were torn away. Allars squeezed through the gap, followed quickly by Gabriel. He helped the old man into the backseat, then he climbed into the front.

“Where to?” Sam turned the car around to avoid running into the truck on its next drive past.

“We get away from this area as fast as we can. Then you take Mark to a safe house, and I go get Haynes and Cooper.”

“Why aren’t I taking Mark to the short-term-stay apartments within the SIU?” She glanced at him, frowning. “And I thought you ordered teams to pick up Haynes and Cooper?”

“I did, but Haynes is located close to here. It won’t take long for the military to realize Mark has flown the nest, and Haynes will be their next target, so it’s better if I get there first, just in case.”

“And the reason we’re not taking Mark back to headquarters?”

He glanced at her. “I really don’t think it’s wise to put the scientists with their lab rats. Mark’s got a whole lot to be angry about.”

“He’s also old, and almost blind.”

“But still only sixty. Don’t let the feeble exterior fool you.”

She grunted and put her foot down, speeding away from the area. If they wanted answers, they had to get to Haynes and Cooper. And she had a bad feeling time was running out.

Gabriel glanced skyward as he climbed out of the car. The wind was freshening and the clouds hung low. He hoped the impending rain would hold off until he got to Haynes. He hated flying in foul weather.

Gabriel bent and met Sam’s gaze. “When Mark’s safe, I want you to go back to headquarters and go through the search results. There has to be some link between the murders other than Emma and Hopeworth.”

“Will do,” she said. Though Sam’s voice was tightly controlled, he could feel her annoyance at being given another desk job. But this time, he wasn’t doing it in a deliberate effort to get rid of her. The simple fact was that she couldn’t fly and he could. Had it been the other way around, he would have gladly let her go retrieve Haynes. Dealing with cranky older men was not his favorite pastime.

He closed the door and she sped off, tires squealing. He shook his head and called the SIU, checking the location of the two teams picking up Cooper and Haynes. Cooper had been retrieved, but the Haynes team were caught in traffic and half an hour away. He sent through an order for them to use their sirens and get there fast. Then, after hanging up, he shifted shape and soared skyward, but the wind buffeted his wings, making any sort of speed difficult. He half-wished he hadn’t spent most of last night airborne. His muscles started to ache long before he’d reached the halfway point.

When Mulgrave finally came into view, he dove down, skimming the treetops, looking for Haynes’s house, but he wasn’t the only one. A military vehicle cruised slowly down the road. He could see two men inside, the passenger holding a street directory open on his lap. It might have been a coincidence, but he doubted it. Especially since similar vehicles had been sent after Allars. The fact that they were close meant there was no time for finesse. With a flick of one wing, he swung left, diving down to Haynes’s well-kept redbrick home. He lined up with the kitchen window and arrowed directly at it.

Glass shattered, flying everywhere. He changed as he hit the floor, and rolled back to his feet. Though hawks had relatively thick skulls, the impact left him a little dazed. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Shards fell like rain from his hair, chiming softly as they hit the tiled floor.

“What the hell…?”

A tall, thin gentleman wearing glasses walked into the room. Gabriel smiled in greeting, then swung a clenched fist. The blow took the older man on the chin and knocked him out cold. Gabriel caught him before he hit the floor and swung him up over his shoulder. Luckily, the guy didn’t weigh all that much. Then he headed out the back door. A dog barked loudly to his left, running back and forth along the fence line. He ignored it, heading for the rear of the property and the adjoining backyard. After ducking behind the cover of a tin shed, he peered over the fence. No dog, and no sign of movement from the house.

He carefully hoisted Haynes over the fence, then quickly followed. After lifting the man back up, he ran for the front of the property. The gate was shut but not locked. He opened it and casually walked out into the street. There was a bus stop several houses down. Gabriel headed for that and eased the man into the seat. Holding him upright with one hand, he dialed the SIU with the other.

“Christine, get the team assigned to Haynes to pick me up at my current location ASAP.”

“One moment, please.”

The older man had begun to stir. Gabriel got out his ID, showing it to the man as he opened his eyes.

“I don’t care who you are,” Haynes growled. “What right do you have to come busting into my home and abducting me?”

“We’ve reason to believe your life may be in danger, sir.”

“And you couldn’t tell me this in my house?”

“No, sir.” Gabriel glanced up the street. It wouldn’t take the military boys long to discover Haynes wasn’t home. No doubt they’d then turn to the tracker.

“Unit four is thirty seconds away, Assistant Director.”

“Thanks, Christine.”

As the wristcom disconnected, a dark gray Ford turned the corner. Gabriel waved it down and returned his attention to Haynes.

“I apologize for my methods, but we don’t know who’s behind the threats and didn’t dare take a chance with your safety. Lyle, White and Benson have all recently been murdered, and we’ve reason to believe both you and Cooper are next.”

“We all worked together,” Haynes murmured, face pale.

“We’re well aware of that, sir.” Gabriel gripped the older man’s arm, helping him up as the Ford pulled to a halt beside them. Haynes climbed in. Gabriel slammed the door shut, then walked around to the other side.

“Where to, Assistant Director?” The driver, a red-haired, freckle-faced youngster, asked.

“Headquarters.” Gabriel glanced at the driver’s dark-skinned partner, recognizing him from a recon trip they’d done several years ago. “How’s that knee, Ford?”

The man smiled. “They have me teaching recruits how to drive. Scarier than missions, sometimes.”