Michael Palmer - Extreme Measures

Will it work the same way? Will Little Nell find true happiness? will E continue to equal MC squared?"

Continuing a stream of nonsense questions, Barber reached out, grabbed Bernard's hair viciously with one hand, and meticulously smoothed the damp powder across both his cheeks with the other. At the man's touch, Bernard felt his heart stop, and truly believed it was going to end for him right there.

Moments later, it began to beat again.

"Whether or not i'm here to see it, you're through, Barber," he rasped.

"Will the South rise-again?" the man went on in his chilling, singsong voice. "will there be peace in the valley someday?"

He turned, scooped up the strongbox, and left the room.

Gripped by fear unlike any he had ever known, Bernard first tried to rub his cheek against his shoulder. Then he hurled himself to the floor, attempting to scrape the powder off on the linoleum.

Some of the poison did come off, but he knew it was not nearly enough.

For a time, he could only lie there, silently praying that Barber's performance was a ruse-his version of the hideous charade that had been played with Eric Najarian. But as minutes passed and he began to feel a heaviness settling into his chest, he knew better.

"I'm sorry. Maggie," he said softly. "I'm sorry for being so damn stupid."

He struggled to his feet, threw himself on the bed, and rubbed what more he could from his cheeks onto the cotton blanket. Finally, totally winded by his efforts, he stopped.

"I'm so damn sorry," he said again.

Helpless now, Bernard closed his eyes, listened to the pounding of his heart in his ears, and waited.

Carrying Donald Devine's ledgers, Eric entered White Memorial through a little-used side door, and took the subbasement tunnel and back staircase to Haven Darden's lab. Tucked carefully in the pocket of his jeans was the loaded syringe. As the medical chief had promised, the entire floor was deserted. Through the darkness of the lab Eric could see light spilling from Darden's inner office.

He paused by the outer door, trying to solidify his composure and his resolve. He thought about Scott Enders and Loretta Leone; about Laura's torment and Reed Marshall's shattered career; about all those others who had suffered. And finally, he conjured up the images of the obscene, makeshift voodoo shrine and of the death's-head priest-quite possibly Haven himself-leering down at him through the candlelight. The man was fully deserving of the terror he was about to experience.

"No mercy," Eric whispered as he opened the door. "No mercy at all."

He walked between a row of incubators and then turned left toward Darden's office. The medical chief, natty as usual in a custom-tailored shirt, silk tie, and black suspenders, met him at the door. Eric was pleased to see that he wore no suit coat.

"Come in, Eric, come in," Darden said. "I was relieved to get your call. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that your friends here at White Memorial have been most concerned about you."

"I didn't really feel I had any of those left," Eric forced himself to say.

"Oh, you do. "You do."

Darden sat down behind his desk, but Eric remained standing, his hand cradling the syringe in his pocket. He imagined the man making love to Anna Delacroix, and sensed his anger and disgust grow even stronger.

Haveia Darden had a family, children.

The woman-half his age, if that-was beautiful enough to have any man.

How much was he. paying her for her services? What did he lay out for her assistance in destroying Eric Najarian?

No mercy.

"Sit down, sit down," Darden said. "I don't mind telling you that the things you alluded to in your call have me most intrigued."

Don't fool around. Don't wait!

"I'd like you to look at this," Eric said, setting Devine's ledger on the desk. "It was taken from a safe in the Gates of Heaven Funeral Home."

As Darden opened the cover Eric stepped behind him and slid the syringe out.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be seeing here," Darden said, suddenly swiveling around to face him.

Eric thrust the syringe back into his pocket.

"It… it's the list beginning on the second page."

Darden pulled open his desk drawer and reached inside.

It's a gun! Eric's mind shrieked. Mow, dammit, mole!

Before he could react, the medical chief pulled out a pair of reading glasses and slipped them on.

"Perhaps I'd do better if I could see the words," he said, turning back to the desk.

Once again Eric eased the loaded syringe free.

He focused on Darden's left trapezius, the heavy muscle just at the base of his neck. A final, deep breath and…

Now!

In synchronized motions, he shoved Darden's chair in, pinning him against the desk, locked his left arm tightly beneath the man's chin, pulled the plastic needle guard off with his teeth, and drove the needle down to the hilt in the spot he had chosen. Darde" cried out at the pain and tried to squirm free, but Eric held him fast. He spat the needle guard onto the floor.

"Move again and you're dead!" he said. "I mean it!"

"What are you doing?" Darden rasped.

"This syringe is loaded with succinylchohne," Eric said. "Two hundred miligrams-enough to paralyze you totally in a matter of fifteen or twenty seconds. At the slightest provocation, I'm ready to give you every bit of it, and you had better believe that."

"Y-you're crazy!"

"You bet I am, Doctor. It'll help us both if you remember that.

It would also help if you think about what it's like to be paralyzed and unable to breathe while you're still wide awake. Surely you're an expert on that. Now, first you're going to tell me where Laura Enders is, and then you're going to tell me about Caduceus."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dammit," Eric rasped, forcing the needle down harder. "I don't have for this. The only person in the world I care about right now is missing, and you know what's happened to her. Now, I know who you are.

I know about Donald Devine and Norma Cullinet, and that goddam place in Utah. I even know about Anna Delacroix. My fuse is really short right now, so I'm suggesting you: Stop playing games with me!"

Eric felt the tension in the man's muscles let up.

Still, he continued to hold him fast, his thumb poised on the syringe.

"Eric, listen to me," Darden said with sudden calm. "I know you've been through a lot. You may think that what you believe is right. But I promise you that I know nothing of what you're saying.

Nothing!"

"And I suppose it wasn't you who called me the morning of the committee vote and promised me the position if I joined Caduceus."

Eric, I have been your supporter in that matter all along. I told you that several weeks ago. It was Dr. Silver who changed his mind and asked for an extension of the vote. I swemto you it was."

"I… I don't believe you," Eric said, feeling the first sickening doubt begin to take hold. "And I suppose I was just an in s when I saw you in a tender little just im m g g acroix. clinch with AnZDel "I assure you, Eric, I know no one by that name.

No one. I. am a happily married man. Now, please, pull that needle out of me before you do something you'll regret for the rest of your life."

"No. You're a liar and a goddam monster. There's no telling how many people have died because of you.

Anna Delacroix or whoever the hell she is set me up, and I saw you with her on Charles Street'just a few hours ago. Now I want the truth, dammit. Where is Laura?"

"She's dead, Doctor. and don't move. Don't move a muscle."

Eric barely managed to maintain his grip as his head spun toward the voice. The tall man standing just inside the doorway was wearing a police captain's unfforin and holding a gun leveled at Eric's chest.