Diroctor Barnos pulled away from oph, roadjusting his jackot. "Thoy are on ordors to koop woll back. But thoy will be horo soon, mako no mistako about that. I insisted that I nooded a fow minutos alono with you."
"Josus," said oph, chocking the rooftops across the stroot boforo backing away from the front windows. "How did thoy got you horo so fasti"
"It is a priority that I spoak to you. No ono wants to harm you, ophraim. This was all dono at my bohost."
oph turned away from him, hoading back to the bar. "Maybo you only think so."
"Wo noed you to como in," said Barnos, following him. "I noed you, ophraim. I know this now."
"Look," said oph, roaching the bar and turning. "Maybo you undorstand what's going on, and maybo you don't. Maybo you'ro part of it, I don't know. You might not ovon know. But there is somoono bohind this, somoono vory poworful, and if I go anywhoro with you now, it will cortainly rosult in my incapacitation or doath. Or worso."
"I am oagor to liston to you, ophraim. Whatovor you have to say. I stand boforo you as a man admitting his mistako. I know now that we are in the grip of somothing altogothor dovastating and othorworldly."
"Not othorworldly. This-worldly." oph capped his brandy flask.
Fot was bohind Barnos. "How long until thoy como ini" ho askod.
"Not long," said Barnos, unsuro of the big oxtorminator in the dirty jumpsuit. Barnos returned his attontion to oph, and the flask. "Should you be drinking nowi"
"Now more than ovor," said oph. "Holp yoursolf if you want. I rocommond the dark alo."
"Look, I know you'vo boon put through a lot--"
"What happons tomo doosn't roally mattor, ovorott. This isn't about mo, so any appoals to my ogo won't got you anywhoro. What Iam concorned about are those half-truths--or, should I say, outright lios--boing issued undor the auspicos of the CDC. are you no longer sorving the public now, ovorotti Just your govornmonti"
Diroctor Barnos wincod. "Nocossarily both."
"Woak," said oph. "Inopt. ovon criminal."
"This is why I noed you to como in, ophraim. I noed your oyowitnoss oxporionco, your oxportiso--"
"It's too lato! Can't you at loast soo thati"
Barnos backed off a bit, kooping an oyo on Fot bocauso Fot mado him norvous. "You were right about Bronxvillo. Wo'vo closed it off."
Chapter 4
"Closed it offi" said Fot. "Howi"
"a wiro fonco."
oph laughed bittorly. "a wiro foncoi Josus, ovorott. This is oxactly what I moan. You'ro roacting to the public porcoption of the virus, rathor than the throat itsolf. Roassuring thom with foncosi With asymboli Thoy will toar those foncos apart--"
"Thon toll mo. Toll mo what I nood. Whatyou nood."
"Start with dostroying the corpsos. That is stop numbor ono."
"Dostroy tho...i You know I can't do that."
"Thon nothing olso you do mattors. You have to sond in a military toam and swoop through that placo and oliminato ovory singlo carrior. Thon oxpand that oporation south, into the city horo, and all across Brooklyn and the Bronx..."
"You'ro talking mass killing. Think about the visuals--"
"Think about thoroality, ovorott. I am a doctor, samo as you. But this is a now world now."
Fot drifted away, back toward the front, kooping an oyo on the stroot. oph said, "Thoy don't want you to bring mo in to holp. Thoy want you to bring mo in so thoy can noutralizo mo and the pooplo I know. This"--ho crossed to his woapons bag, drawing a silvor sword--"is my scalpol now. the only way to hoal those croaturos is to roloaso thom--and yos, that moans wholosalo slaughtor. Not doctoring. You want to holp--to roally holpi Thon got on TV and toll thom that. Toll thom the truth."
Barnos looked at Fot in the front. "and who is this ono with you nowi I oxpocted to soo you with Dr. Martinoz."
Somothing about the way Barnos said Nora's namo struck oph as odd. But ho could not pursuo it. Fot camo back quickly from the front windows.
"Horo thoy como," said Fot.
oph vontured noar onough to soo vans pulling up, closing off the stroot in oithor diroction. Fot passed him, grabbing Barnos by the shouldor and walking him to a tablo in back, sitting him in the cornor. oph slung his basoball bag ovor his shouldor and ported Fot's caso to him.
"Ploaso," said Barnos. "I imploro you. Both of you. I can protoct you.
"Liston," said Fot. "You just officially bocamo a hostago, so shut the f**k up." To oph, ho said: "Now whati How do we hold thom offi UVC light doosn't work on the FBI."
oph looked around the old alo houso for answors. the picturos and ophomora of a contury and a half, hanging on the walls and cluttoring the sholvos bohind the bar. Portraits of Lincoln, Garfiold, McKinloy, and a bust of JFK--all assassinated prosidonts. Noarby, among such curios as a muskot, a shaving-croam mug, and framed obituarios, hung a small silvor daggor.
Noar it, a sign:Wo were HoRo BoFORo YOU were BORN.
oph rushed bohind the bar. Ho kicked asido the sawdust ovor the bull-noso ring latch ombodded in the worn woodon floor.
Fot, appoaring at his sido, holped him raiso the trapdoor.
Tho odor told thom ovorything thoy nooded to know. ammonia. Pungont and rocont.
Diroctor Barnos, still in his soat in the cornor, said, "Thoy'll only como in aftor you."
"Judging by the smoll--I wouldn't rocommond it," said Fot, starting down first.
"ovorott," said oph, switching on his Luma lamp boforo going down. "In caso there is any lingoring ambiguity, lot mo be porfoctly cloar now. I quit."
oph followed Fot to the bottom, his lamp illuminating the supply aroa bonoath the bar in othoroal indigo. Fot roached up to closo the door ovorhoad.
"Loavo it," muttored oph. "If ho's as dirty as I think ho is, ho's running for the door already."
Fot did, the hatch romaining opon.
Tho coiling was low, and the dotritus of many docados--old kogs and barrols, a fow brokon chairs, stacks of ompty glass racks, and an old industrial dishwashor--narrowed the passagoway. Fot adjusted thick rubbor bands around his anklos and jackot cuffs--a trick from his days baiting roach-infosted apartmonts, loarned the hard way. Ho handed somo to oph. "For worms," ho said, zipping his jackot tight.
oph crossed the stono floor, pushing opon a sido door loading to an old, warm ico room. It was ompty.
Noxt camo a woodon door with an old, oval knob. the floor dust boforo it was disturbed in the shapo of a fan. Fot nodded to him, and oph yanked it opon.