John Locke - Lethal People

Hugo said there were two reasons. First, it would have been a conflict of interest, since they planned to sell her to terrorists and I’m a counter-terrorist. Second, they wanted to see if they could bring her back to life after a trained assassin had done his best to kill her.

“So I was what, part of a medical experiment?”

“Yes.”

Hugo reminded me that their army of little people included scientists, microbiologists, and specialists in almost every field of research. One of their people had developed a revolutionary antidote to botulinum toxin, and since they had targeted Monica anyway, she would be their first test. They figured I’d give her the most potent injection possible, which I did. If she survived, they’d sell Monica to Fathi. If not, they’d keep working on the antidote.

“And it worked,” I said.

“That is correct. We intend to make one hundred million dollars selling the antidote to the military.”

“Our military?”

“Ours, theirs, whoever.”

“Back to the conflict of interest,” I said. “I’m not comfortable working with you if you’re also working with terrorists.”

Hugo sneered. “That is absurd. Your government works with terrorists every day. They call it infiltration. We do the same. We infi trate them for our own purposes, which shall not be revealed to you.”

Though my head was swimming, I managed to ask him about the two other targets they wanted me to kill. Hugo said they were part of a social experiment.

“First a medical experiment, now a social experiment.”

Hugo said, “That is correct.”

“Can you give me the Cliff s Notes on that?” I asked. Hugo looked at Victor before answering. Victor nodded. Hugo turned back to me and said, “Victor wishes to understand the true nature of evil. Before you injected Monica, we gave her a chance to name two people who caused her pain in her life. You will kill those two people and get two names from each. Victor believes we all have at least two people who have caused irreparable harm in our lives. You will exact vengeance for all the victims.”

“He started with Monica because of her husband, the doctor.”

“Yes. We could not have you kill the doctor. It would be too easy to link Victor to the crime. There is a saying: ‘If you would hurt your enemy, punish the one he loves.’ Since Monica was innocent, we gave her a choice: live in captivity or die in the van.”

“And she chose life.”

Victor and Hugo nodded together.

“But you knew the Fathis planned to kill her.”

Hugo and Victor nodded together. Hugo clarified, “We knew they would not use proper restraint. We knew they would not give her time to recover.”

“So why have you involved me in all of this?” I asked.

“We’ve got big plans for you, Mr. Creed.”

“Such as?”

“You’re going to help us take over the world.”

“Well, why not,” I said. Then, for whatever reason, I thought of Joe DeMeo. I said, “I’d love to help you take over the world and all, but I’m going to be busy robbing and killing a very powerful crime boss.”

Victor said, “Maybe … we can … help.”

I thought about that a minute and said, “You probably could. You hijacked a spy satellite. Do you have access to drones?”

“Killer drones?” Hugo asked. “Loaded? That is impossible.”

I laughed. Maybe they weren’t as crazy as I’d thought. “I was thinking maybe you could divert one of the weather drones off the coast of California or a surveillance one flying between Alaska and Russia.”

“To where?”

“Hills of LA,” I said. “Just for a few minutes.”

Hugo walked to the other end of the room with his cell phone. He was gone a couple of minutes. When he came back, he looked at Victor and nodded. Victor nodded back. “Yeah,” Hugo said, “we can do that.”

“Really?” I asked.

Hugo nodded.

“What will it cost me?”

“What’s … the … take?” Victor said.

“Tens of millions, I think. If we do it right.”

Victor thought a moment before replying. “We … don’t want … the … mon … ey,” he said. “We’d … ra … ther bank … the fa … vor.”

“Works for me,” I said. Then I dialed Joe DeMeo’s number.

“Well, you said you’d call,” DeMeo said. “So it must be Tuesday.”

“You killed a lot of people in that hotel trying to blow me up,” I said.

“Creed, listen to me. If you’re still worrying about that ten million for the burned kid, I got a better idea. I did some checking,” he said. “Turns out she’s got all kinds of life-threatening injuries, so I’m wondering maybe we should see if she survives before you and me ruin a good relationship.”

“She’s well-protected, Joe.”

“Yeah, I heard your giant was there. A face like that, he ought to fit in with the rest of the burn patients.”

We were quiet awhile. Then he said, “Are we done here or is there something else you want to say?”

I said, “I’m coming to get you, Joe.”

“Oh yeah?” he said. Then he laughed. “You and what army?”

I looked at Victor and Hugo, thought about the guys holding the gun and detonator under the table, thought about the mini scientists who could hijack spy satellites and create an antidote for the deadliest poison known to man. I thought about the dwarf who worked on the White House kitchen staff.

I nodded at Victor. He winked at me and nodded back.

“I got a hell of an army,” I told Joe DeMeo.

Hugo’s posture went ramrod straight, and his chest swelled with pride. He saluted me.

I hung up the phone. Hugo said, “Well? What did he say? Did he laugh when you said that part about the army? I bet he laughed. Tell me he laughed. Just say it, just tell me he laughed and I’ll kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands. I’ll rip his ears off his head. I’ll …”

“He laughed,” I said.

Hugo looked at Victor. “They always laugh,” he said. He seemed to instantly deflate.

“Don’t let it get you down,” I said. “They don’t know what they’re up against.”

“Ac … tually … they … don’t,” Victor said.

CHAPTER 36

There is no scent of freshly baked bread in Little Italy, no Italians singing love songs or speaking boisterously while flapping their arms in the air. Still, enough charm remains to inspire a walk, if you’ve got the time. I did, so I told my driver to wait while I headed down Mott, and Mulberry, and Elizabeth and Baxter.

The area is gradually being swallowed up by Chinatown, and most of the people who can speak Italian have long since moved to the Bronx. But the streets are still lively and colorful, and the fire hydrants are painted green, white, and red, the colors of the Italian flag.

I didn’t find anything to buy, but I had a decent lunch and managed to clear my head after the meeting with Victor and Hugo. I didn’t think for one minute Victor and Hugo’s army of little people could take over the world, but I was gaining confidence that they could help me take down Joe DeMeo.

A couple hours after lunch, I found my driver and had him push his way through the traffic to the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where I got a room at the Hotel Plaza Athenee. By five, room service had delivered an incredible panini sandwich filled with fresh spinach, mozzarella, and roasted red peppers. They also brought me a bottle of Maker’s and a heavy glass tumbler. I ate the sandwich and washed it down with three fingers of bourbon. By six, I’d had a hot shower and was freshly shaved and dressed. I watched the news on Fox for twenty minutes and still had more than enough time to walk the quarter mile east, to Third and Sixty-Sixth.