“I told you she wouldn’t talk,” Sloane said.
“She needs time.”
“It won’t help.”
Martin straightened. “I know her far better than you do—”
“That’s debatable—”
“Say another word, and I’ll make you sorry.” Martin stepped toward Sloane, now almost shouting over the roar of the helicopter. “She needs time, Dorian. She will talk. I urge you not to do this.”
“You created this situation, Martin. I’m just cleaning it up.”
“We have time.”
“We both know we don’t — you said it yourself. And I was quite amused at the other things you said. I assumed you hated me because you hated my methods and plans.”
“I hate you because of what you did to her—”
“Which wasn’t a tenth of what she did to my family.”
“She had nothing to do with that—”
“Let’s agree to disagree, Martin. And let’s focus on the task at hand.”
Sloane grabbed him by the arm and led him away from the helicopter where it would be easier to talk. And, Martin thought, where Sloane’s men couldn’t hear him.
“Listen, Martin, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll delay Toba Protocol until we find out if this can work. You let us work on the girl, we’ll get what we need in one, maybe two hours tops. If we leave now for Antarctica, we’ll have the information by the time we land. We could test a true Atlantis Gene Retrovirus within 8 hours. I know you’re looking for an entrance.” Martin began to speak, but Dorian waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t bother denying it, Martin. I have a man on the team. Within 24 hours, you and I could walk through the gates of the tombs together. No Toba. This is the only play you have, we both know it.”
“I want your word that she will not be harmed… permanently harmed.”
“Martin. I’m not a monster. We just need what she knows, I would never permanently harm her.”
“We’ll agree to disagree on that point.” Martin looked down. “We should leave now. The Antarctica site is rather hard to get to.”
As they walked to the helicopter, Sloane pulled one of the men aside. “Get Tarea out of that cell, and tell him to find out what Warner did to those kids.”
CHAPTER 35
Outside Immari Jakarta Headquarters
Jakarta, Indonesia
They had driven in silence for almost ten minutes when David said, “Tell me Cole, how does a kid from Fort Collins wind up at Immari Security?”
Cole stared straight ahead, focusing on driving. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“You have no idea.”
“Says the guy who killed my partner and strapped a bomb to my spine.”
Cole had a point. But David couldn’t explain — that would take away his leverage. Sometimes you had to be a bad guy to save the good guys.
They continued on in silence until they reached the Immari Jakarta Campus — a collection of six buildings surrounded by a high chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire. Guard houses flanked every entrance. David put the helmet and goggles on and handed Cole the ID of the man he’d killed.
At the gate, the guard stepped out of the booth and sauntered over to the car. “ID?”
Cole handed him two Immari ID Cards. “Bryant and Stevens.”
The guard took the IDs. “Thanks, ass**le. I’ve only been reading for 40 years now.”
Cole held up a hand. “Just trying to be helpful.”
The guard leaned in the window. “Take the helmet off,” he said to David.
David pulled the helmet off and looked straight forward, then to the side, hoping the side view would pass, that the closer look was just mild professional hazing or the insecure guard pounding his chest.
The guard examined the ID then scrutinized David. He repeated the motion several times. “Just a minute.” He hurried back to the booth.
“That standard?” David asked Cole.
“Never happened before.”
The man had the phone at his ear. He was dialing, his eyes glued on them.
David drew his gun and reached across the car in one fluid motion. The guard dropped the phone and reached for his gun. David fired a single shot, hitting the man in the left shoulder, just above where the vest ended. The man collapsed to the ground. He would live, but his attitude probably wouldn’t improve.
Cole looked over at David, then gunned the car toward the main Immari Headquarters building.
“Park at the rear entrance, near the boat landing.” David reached into the backseat and grabbed a small pack filled with explosives. He pulled the duffel bag with the remaining charges into the floorboard.
In the distance, they heard the wail of sirens erupt across the campus perimeter.
They entered the building through an unguarded loading dock door. David placed a charge on the wall next to the door. He punched a code into the detonator, and it began beeping. It was hard to do one-handed, but he had to keep his thumb on the trigger for Cole’s sake.
They moved down the hallway, and David placed additional explosives every twenty feet or so.
David had opted not to tell Cole anything before they arrived — his captive could have found a way to communicate the information to Immari HQ, or they could be intercepted. Either way, there was no upside. Now he had to explain. “Listen, Cole. They’re holding a woman somewhere in this building. Dr. Kate Warner. We need to find her.”
Cole hesitated for a moment, then said, “The holding cells and interrogation rooms are in the middle of the building, on the 47th floor… But even if she is there and you get her out of the room, you’ll never get out of the building. Security is on its way here now, and there are already dozens of guards in this building alone. Plus field agents who have returned.” Cole motioned to the dead man’s trigger in David’s left hand. “What happens to me? If you…”
David thought. “Is there any field ops equipment in this building?”
“Yeah, the main armory on three, but most of the weapons and armor are gone — the entire field regiment was deployed to kill you today.”
“It won’t matter; they wouldn’t have taken what I need. When we have the girl, I’ll give you this trigger, you have my word, Cole. Then I’ll make my own way out.”
Cole nodded once, then said, “There’s a service stairwell without cameras.”
“One thing before we go.” David opened a supply closet and lit a fire. In seconds, the flame licked up the wood racks toward the smoke detector on the ceiling.