The Kingdom - Peter Collinson

Much of the antagonism had evaporated and the others paid Kells careful attention now. “So — this ricin,” said Bert.

“It’s real and deadly, everything Trait says it is and more. But most importantly for us, the government will treat it as such. Gilchrist is this country’s nightmare scenario. No one, certainly not the president, is going to put a couple of thousand of innocent lives on the line for us or for these cons. The prisoners are going to use the media to hold the entire country hostage in a high-tech, high-stakes blackmail, and it’s going to work.”

Rebecca said, “How can you be so certain?”

“Trait doesn’t need to take out a million people. Probably couldn’t. Variables such as wind, climate, transmission. But this is psychological warfare more than biological. There is no precedent for this. Doomsday always knew something like this might happen, we’ve discussed it, we’ve planned for it, but we’ve never had to deal with actual human lives. Trait’s gambit here is solid. The best the FBI can possibly do is to maybe exploit the information chain. People other than Trait have to know the names of the targeted communities, including at least a few people on the outside. The FBI will be kicking in the doors of every Brotherhood of Rebellion ex-con out there.”

“I don’t understand,” said Rebecca. “How can the prisoners be so organized? Trait’s been in isolation all this time. And he’s a killer, not a terrorist.”

“Obviously he had help on the outside. Anyone remember the name Errol Inkman?”

Rebecca did, vaguely.

Kells said, “Resigned from the CIA in the early nineties, two years before Aldrich Ames. Inkman had been passing information to Libyans and other terrorist nations. He was arrested and held for months but never prosecuted. He’s in his late-fifties now, thinner and worn, but still with a European mien. Graying hair. Bushy eyebrows.”

“You don’t mean,” said Fern, with a start, “Mr. Hodgkins?”

“I didn’t put it all together until last night,” said Kells. “I thought I recognized him at dinner — I did recognize him — but could not place the face. Unlike Ames, Ink man’s treachery hadn’t resulted in the loss of any lives, so rather than risk airing the agency’s dirty laundry in a public trial, the CIA quietly let him go.”

Rebecca remembered the worn, particular man at dinner that first night. “Why would he bother springing a killer like Trait?”

“Just because they didn’t prosecute doesn’t mean they let Inkman off scot-free. He betrayed the United States. I’m certain they pulled his life apart brick by brick. Bankrupted him with lawsuits, scared away potential employers, harassed his friends, searched his home. I know his wife left him, and he started drinking. I imagine now he’s a very bitter man with an intense anti-American grudge. As the former second-in-command of the CIA’s counter-terrorism station, he’s got a lot of specialized information lying fallow. Now he’s putting that expertise to work. He is one of those people who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else, whose latent genius went underappreciated and unacknowledged. A large ego in a marginalized man. I don’t know how he could have gotten involved with Trait and the Brotherhood of Revolution. I do know that, in order to pull off something of this magnitude, he needed absolute secrecy and unwavering dedication of the men involved — something perhaps only Luther Trait could deliver.”

“But if he was ruined — bankrupt — then how did they finance this thing?”

“Inkman could have bankrolled this with bottle returns. Biowarfare hasn’t changed much since the Romans used dead dogs to foul their enemy’s water supply. Only the methods of delivery have matured. The cost of a controlled multiple-casualty attack on a one square kilometer area using conventional weapons is about two thousand dollars. With nukes, you drop to around eight hundred dollars. Chemical weapons, about six hundred dollars. But biological weapons? About one hundred, one fifty.”

Dr. Rosen said, “Look — they seem reasonable. What if we throw ourselves on their mercy? They don’t want us here, and we don’t want to be here. They let the others go.”

Terry said, “These are psychos. We should wait, shouldn’t we? The FBI knows we’re here now. They’ll find a way to get us out. They have to.”

In the corner, Darla sank down the dark wall paneling to sit the floor, gripping her stomach.

“We could hide here,” said Rita, looking around.

Fern nodded. “There’s a kitchen. We have a fire.”

“Fire makes smoke,” said Rebecca. “We might as well dial nine one one. We can’t just hide here and wait this thing out. The prisoners could hold the FBI off for months like this — months . Do you realize?”

“She’s right,” said Kells. “We need to keep moving. Tonight.”

Rebecca nodded at having found an unlikely ally. “We have to escape. There is no other way.”

“Not escape,” contradicted Kells. “The snow is three feet deep in places and still falling. With the short days, there’s no way we could cross the mountains or walk through the trees in the dark. Even with skis for everyone. The cons have sealed off the town and sealed us in. We can’t go backward or forward.”

Rebecca was staring at him. “Then, what?”

“We make a stand here in town. We fight.”

Dr. Rosen said, “Fight?”

Terry dropped his arms and walked away.

Mia was crying silently, Robert was holding her hand.

Rebecca was shaking her head. “We can’t provoke them like that,” said Rebecca. “The FBI said—”

“The FBI said, Wait to be captured . They said, Better eleven dead than eleven thousand .”

The others were shocked. Hearing it put so bluntly chilled Rebecca.

Terry said, “That’s not true.”

“You’re in finance, Terry,” said Kells. “You crunch the numbers.” He looked to the rest. Rebecca could feel Kells’s pull on the group’s orbit, like a finger nudging a gyroscope off course. “Right now Trait and his men think the town is evacuated. So, long as we keep moving, we’ve got the snow to shield and the long winter nights. Sitting here and waiting will only get us killed.”

“Killed?” said Dr. Rosen. “And going out and fighting them won’t?”

“Not if we do it right. Not if they don’t know we’re here.”

“You were wrong,” Dr. Rosen said. “You were wrong about running. If they had caught us at the inn, we would all be home now.”

Kells said, “I wasn’t wrong. You think the hostages were well-treated? These men escaped from cages. What about your girlfriend?”

Kells nodded at Darla sitting against the wall. She just stared at the floor, but public acknowledgment of the affair chastened Dr. Rosen.

Rebecca was tired and scared. “Just say the word. Rape . Just say it.”

“That would be just the beginning.”

“You think only women? Don’t pretend it couldn’t be any one of you.”

Terry said, “Jesus Christ!”

Kells said, “All the more reason to keep moving. Fighting these escaped convicts is the only way.”

Rebecca said, “Won’t they assume the attacks, or whatever you’re proposing, are coming from outside? They’ll drop the ricin on those towns.”

Kells was growing impatient. “Those towns are already lost. The mechanism has already been set in motion. No matter how it happens, Trait’s going to be forced to do those towns someday. Otherwise, if he’s allowed to profit from this threat, you’re going to see these situations popping up all over. No one can get in his way right now except us.”

“Are you kidding?” said Terry, laughing fearfully. “Do we look like fighters to you?”