Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

The computer they used for IDs was in the examining room where she'd last seen Hugh. A chill went through her as she remembered how he'd looked up from his paperwork and smiled at her right before she'd left.

Don't think about it. Get the computer.

She walked quickly down the hall. She didn't need to turn on a light. She knew every inch of the clinic. She opened the door. The laptop computer was usually on the shelf across from the examining table. Now was the time to flick on the light. There were no windows in the room so it shouldn't-

Dear God!

She shrank back against the wall, staring at the floor.

"Devon."

It was Marrok, standing in the doorway.

"I wasn't expecting-" Lord, she felt sick. The outline in yellow chalk on the floor had to be where Hugh's body had been found. And traces of something dark red… "I suppose I should have known. I've seen enough TV police shows. It surprised-"

"Shh." He was suddenly holding her in his arms. "I know. Take a deep breath. You'll be fine in a minute."

"I was just remembering that last thing I said to him. And then I saw-" She pushed him away. "I'm okay." She wasn't okay, but she couldn't lean on him. She had to stand on her own. "The laptop is on the shelf across the room." She averted her eyes from the yellow outline as she moved toward the shelf. "Hugh was always very neat about putting away-It's not here!"

"Shit. The RFD remote?"

"There were four of them. They're all gone."

"Make sure. Look around. Could they be anywhere else?"

She shook her head. "We kept them here."

"Keep looking. I'm going to go through the other rooms."

She looked on all the other shelves, then went to the medical chest across the room. It was sealed with yellow tape. That's right, they'd suspected drug theft.

She broke the tape and opened the door. Not many bottles or capsules left. No computer.

"Anything?" Marrok was back.

"No."

"I drew a blank, too. Let's get the hell out of here."

She followed him out of the room.

"Wait. I'll go ahead."

Because someone might be waiting outside? At the moment she was more afraid of staying here in the dark knowing that pitiful, horrible chalked outline was in the next room. Was there another outline on the floor in the reception room? Of course there was. And more blood…

He opened the door a crack and looked outside. "There's Walt. Let me go ahead. Run!"

"THEY'VE LEFT THE CLINIC." CASWELLglanced up from the cell phone to look at Danner. "Sherwood wants to know what to do."

"What does he think he should do? Kill the bastards." Danner gazed down with angry frustration at the computer that had been delivered to him from Brady's clinic. "I've got the info from the microchip."

"Little good it's doing us. We can't even decode it."

"I'll get there. It may take time, but I'll find a way to do it. I just didn't realize that this damned code would be so hard to break, or I would have had a roomful of cryptologists waiting to work on it."

"You've always underestimated Marrok. You still think of him as that Indian kid you could bamboozle and manipulate. He's not that kid any longer."

"I never tried to manipulate him," Danner said. "I only did what I had to do. I was the only one who was capable enough to manage the project. That old man was pissing away everything I'd dreamed about since I was a boy. If Marrok hadn't exploded and taken away what was mine, I'd have given him the opportunity of a lifetime. He betrayed me." Danner's eyes were glittering with emotion. "I looked upon him as a son."

Caswell opened his lips to make a skeptical comment, then closed them. Danner probably believed what he was saying. A son? Danner might have felt a myriad of emotions toward that young Marrok, but Caswell would bet paternal feelings weren't among them. He'd always been amazed that Danner never felt hypocritical about any of his dealings. He believed that he could do no wrong, and anyone in conflict with him had to be misguided and, therefore, subject to punishment and destruction. "Marrok obviously didn't regard you in the same light."

"He betrayed me," Danner repeated. "He was a drunken piece of refuse, and I still made him my friend. I let him sit at my dinner table and taught him to be a human being instead of a savage."

"He must have had a little bit of potential of his own, or he wouldn't have been able to keep us from catching him all these years." He paused. "And you seemed to be very willing to eliminate your 'son' even before he broke away."

"Sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice for the higher goal. I would have tried to save him. He didn't understand that."

"It's difficult for a man to look upon himself as a sacrifice."

"That's why I had to be stronger and wiser. Like Abraham when he was told to kill his son."

Talk about a God complex. And Danner didn't even realize there was anything odd about the comparison.

"May I point out that Marrok may still be of use if we can't decode this?"

"Any code can be broken. And this one was concocted by a geeky kid."

"Geeky kids have found ways to break into secured sites at the Pentagon. And Marrok may have gone in and improved the code over the years."

"If we kill him, then we'll have plenty of time to work on it."

Caswell waited. Danner was a brilliant man, and most of the time he used that brilliance with a manipulative skill that was astonishing. It was only when the subject of Marrok came up that his emotions ruled him.

Danner was silent a moment. "I always intended to take Marrok alive if possible. I gave orders to that effect. The old man swore Marrok knew nothing, but I could never be sure. It would have been much more efficient to verify one way or the other."

And given Danner a chance at an elaborate and painful revenge on Marrok. Danner was a sadistic bastard, and his enjoyment of others' pain was always excused as necessary and right. "I realize that," Caswell said.

Danner made a decision. "Tell Sherwood he has the option to kill everyone but Marrok. Leave it up to him. But I want Marrok alive." He sadly shook his head. "I would have preferred to make it easy on him. We shared so many good memories. Like a son…"

DEVON DARTED AFTER MARROKfor the SUV.

Walt had the door open, and Marrok pushed her into the car then followed her. "Get out of here."

"Right." The car lurched forward as Walt stomped on the accelerator. "Did we get what we came for?"

"No." Marrok was gazing at the rearview mirror. "Hurry."

"I'm going over the speed limit now." He glanced at Devon. "You're pale. Okay?"

No; she could still see that grotesque outline on the floor. She'd probably remember it for the rest of her life. And it had all been for nothing. They hadn't been able to get that damn computer. "It wasn't pleasant." She turned to Marrok. "I didn't see the policeman. Where is he?"

"Tucked neatly out of sight around the side of the building." His eyes never left the mirror. "He'll be out for another fifteen minutes or so. I gave him a chop to the carotid artery. And, yes, I'm sure that he'll wake up. Not that I expect you to believe me."

She did believe him. "Will that give us enough time to get to the plane before he raises an alarm?"

"No, but that won't be a problem. He couldn't identify-We're being followed, Walt. Lose him."

Devon's gaze flew to the rearview mirror. Two headlights were spearing the darkness. "How can you tell? Are you-"

"I'm sure."

"Then he won't be behind us long," Walt said. "Hold tight."

The warning was not in vain. In spite of the seat belt, Devon was tossed back and forth like a rag doll as Walt turned corners, went the wrong way up one-way streets.

"He's good," Walt murmured, glancing at the rearview mirror. "Fear not, friends. I will persevere."