-- I am going to note really fast that I have no clue if Noin really has a sister…
Chapter 17

Day Three

Des Moines, Iowa

3:30 p.m.

When Heero arrived, three cars were parked in the driveway at 1523 Jasper Street and the house was blazing with lights.

Not good.

A man with sunglasses, who was dressed in a suit and tie that seemed oddly out of place on him came out the front door. "Heero Yuy?"

"Too late?"

He nodded.

"Shit."

"I'm Howard, Catalonia was already gone by the time we got here."

"Have you searched the place?"

"It's as clean as a whistle. We woke up some of his neighbors. They didn't know much about him. He moved in only a few days ago. He drove a truck."

"What kind of truck?"

"Big, strong van type. Pride Cleaning Service painted on the sides. One of the teenagers next door said she saw the truck get on the freeway heading south."

"South." As if that were a help. Catalonia could have changed direction at any point. He dialed Relena. "It's time to pull out the stops We can't wait any longer. I want you to call the president."

"Aren't you panicking? We don't have proof that Trey Catalonia is actively involved."

"Hell yes I'm panicking."

"Not yet," Relena said. "Let's see if we can do some damage control. We'll find Catalonia and then-"

"Then find him. Quick," Heero said harshly. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Relena."

"I'm not calling the White House and putting my job on the line because you have a hunch."

"Look, put it together. Dekim sent Morrisey to find a man with Trey Catalonia's qualifications. He found him. Trey Catalonia goes to Iowa where we suspect the counterfeiting installation is."

"It's still speculation."

Heero's hand tightened on the phone. He wished it were Relena's throat. "If you won't call the White House, then call the highway patrol, okay? Ask them to pull over Catalonia's truck." He paused. "But not to search it."

"You think he's carrying the currency?"

"He's either got it or he's going to pick it up. Wouldn't bet on either one."

"Another hunch?" Relena asked sourly. "Okay, okay, I'll contact the patrol. What direction was he going?"

"South." He hoped he was telling the truth.

***************

Collinsville, Illinois

1:40 p.m.

Trey Catalonia picked up the phone on the first ring. "Dekim?"

"You made it with no trouble?"

"I breezed through without the highway patrol giving me a second look. I parked outside Des Moines and just peeled off that cleaner truck lettering like you told me."

"And the currency?"

"All loaded and ready to go."

"What about the extra boxes?"

"I dropped them off at the mill."

"And the little extra job?"
"Done."

"Good. Then go ahead." Dekim said. "I want it done by three."

"Same plan?"

"No diversion." Dekim paused. "Don't take any of the cash yourself. You'll be paid later, as arranged, when I meet you tomorrow at Springfield."

"Right."

"You've filled the gas tank on the getaway car so you won't have to stop?"

"Yeah."

"On no account do I want you to stop where anyone will see you. If you grow tired, find a secluded place to rest."

"You've told me this before."

"No other questions?"

"You're not paying me to ask questions. I'm not dumb enough to think that's real money. It would pass anywhere though. It looks real good."

"Thank you." Dekim said dryly.

"Its all pretty weird but it's your business."

"That's right, it is."

Eagerness flooded Catalonia as he hung up the phone. This was the chance of a lifetime. Big time. He was going big-time.

He jumped to his feet, buttoned his gray shirt, and strapped on his holster. He liked the gun. He crouched and whipped the gun from the holster. "Pow. Gotcha."

He did it again.

He reluctantly slid the gun back in the holster. He sat down on the bed and reached for his boots. Dekim had said to wear plain black shoes, but screw him. He's had to go along with the uniform, but the boots were important. Would guys like John Wayne or Evil Knievel have worn plain black shoes?

***************

Kansas City, Missouri

1:55 p.m.

"All set, Trieze." Dekim strode to the helicopter, where Trieze was waiting. "In a few hours it will be over and all we'll have to do is issue our demands."
"I've been thinking," Trieze said. "It would be better to cut down on the monetary demand and put more emphasis on thee release of the prisoners."

"Cut down?" Dekim repeated. "How much?"

"We're asking fifty million dollars. If we go for twenty five it would-"

"Fine. As long as you take it out of your share."

"Don't be ridiculous. That would leave me with nothing.""

Which was what the pompous baka deserved. "Nothing but your political ideals. Isn't that what's important to you?"

"The decision on the money should be mine. You wouldn't have been able to get anywhere with out me. I set up the counterfeiting operation, I supplied the men and the money."

Dekim judged he had protested enough. Maybe just a little more reluctance. "Let me think about it. We still have a few hours before we can issue our demand. I'll call you at the farm after the strike." He shut the helicopter door and strode back to his car.

Too bad he'd had to restrain himself even then. He would really have enjoyed seeing that arrogant son of a bitch humbled. But a wise man never indulged himself if it might cause complications.

He started his car, watching as the helicopter slowly lifted. He could see Trieze in the passenger seat, and he leaned out the window, smiled and waved.

The helicopter was veering away, climbing to the south.

He waved again, then leisurely reached in his pocket and pressed the button on the remote control.

The helicopter became a fireball and plummeted to the ground.

****************

Collinsville, Illinois

2:30 p.m.

Trey Catalonia stepped on the accelerator and heard the big tires screech as he turned the corner.

A woman in shorts and a t-shirt jumped back on the curb. She screamed an obscenity after him. He grinned as he realized how much he had scared her.

The people in the stands at the stadiums were never afraid of him. They were there for the show, and he had never been the headliner.

Now he was the headliner.

The steering wheel felt smooth and good in his hands. Power. He had never driven a vehicle this heavy even on the circuit.

He passed the bank. Three more blocks to North Avenue. Dekim had specified that it must be North Avenue.

The neighborhood was getting worse. The buildings were shabby, and prostitutes hung out on the corner.

One more block.

A bunch of teenagers were in the street gathered around a 1987 green Cadillac. Not a good year for Caddys. Flashy, but no guts.

The kids gave him a surly glance as he passed them. He knew how they felt. He represented authority. If he gave them a chance, they'd jump him.

Half a block.

There it was. North Avenue.

Now.

Excitement tore through him as he stomped on the accelerator. The next corner. Hit it hard. Do the job.

He was John Wayne.

He was Evil Knievel.

He was the headliner.

***************

The truck crashed over onto it side, knocking the breath out of him.

Trey freed himself from the special protective bars and slowly crawled out of the cab.

It was already happening.

The back doors of the armored truck had flown open and plastic-wrapped money scattered all over the street.

The kids by the Caddy were all over it, grabbing handfuls and running.

Two women came out of the store across the street and ran toward the truck.

"Stop," he yelled. "That's Federal Reserve money."

No one paid attention to him. Not that he'd expected them to.  He would have done the same thing.

People were coming out of the woodwork. It was a mob scene with everyone grabbing the cash and running.

"I'm calling the police," Trey yelled. "If you know what's good for you, you'll get away from that money. You're breaking the law."

He waited a moment, then walked away. He'd parked the black Honda sedan two blocks over. He should be out of there in minutes.

As he reached the corner, he glances back over his shoulder.

They were even crawling into the truck to get at the money.

Too bad he couldn't wait for the TV and newspaper crews. No one would ever know how well he'd done his job. He had compensation though. More than the headliners on the circuit got.

He touched the money belt under his shirt, where he's stashed the cash he'd taken from the truck earlier. A little extra to sweeten the pot.

Even Evil Knievel would have envied him this haul.

***************

Des Moines

5:36 p.m.

"Heero, where are you?" Wufei asked.

"Catalonia's place in Des Moines."

"Are you near a TV set?"

Heero stiffened. "Why?"

"Turn on CNN. I was watching TV in the waiting room and there was a news flash. I think it's happened."

He whirled on Howard. "I need a TV set."

Howard gestured to the living room.

The first thing Heero saw when he turned on CNN was the truck on its side in the street. The crowd surrounding it was pouncing on the clear plastic packages scattered on the ground.

Heero had seen those packages before in the poor box at Tenajo. "My God."

A blond newswoman's face replaced the scene. "The driver of the vehicle disappeared shortly after the accident, but this amateur video was taken five minutes after the truck overturned on North Avenue in East Collinsville. A spokesman for the Federal Reserve Bank in St. Louis refuses to comment on the amount of money that was stolen."

Heero lifted the phone back to his ear. "Get on another phone, Wufei. Call the Federal Reserve in St. Louis. Tell them who you are and let them check with Relena for references. I'll hold on. I'll bet every dime of their money is accounted for."

"You think this is it?"
"I hope not. Maybe I'm wrong. Check and see how the Reserve packages their money." He stared at a replay of the scene in Collinsville while Wufei made the phone call. Jesus, they were crawling all over the money, grabbing, running. Kids, adults.

"It's not a Federal truck," Wufei said when he came back on the line. "The last truck came in fifteen minutes ago. That clear plastic packaging of the money isn't Reserve procedure. They don't know what the hell's going on."

"When did the truck overturn?"

"A little before three."

"Two and half hours ago." He felt sick as he thought of the damage the anthrax might have wreaked already. "How much of the money's been taken?"

"By the time the police got there, the truck had been ransacked." Wufei paused. "It's too sweet a setup to be a coincidence."

"If it's Dekim, a demand will be issued almost immediately. I'll call Relena and see it they've heard from him. Why the hell would he choose Collinsville?"

"It's not as strange as you'd think. It's across the river from St. Louis, where there's the Federal Reserve Bank. The trucks would be a fairly familiar sight. Dekim targeted one of the lowest-income neighborhoods in the city. When the doors flew open on that truck, those poor devils must have thought they'd won the lottery. How soon before we see signs of the anthrax?"

"Anytime now. There's a hell of a lot of people who are going to need help. I don't know how many will survive. The city should be quarantined and the media has to start broadcasting the-"

"Don't tell me. Tell Relena."

"Oh, I'll tell her," Heero said grimly. "I told the bitch last night that she should call the president. Old pal or not, the president is going to be looking for scapegoats and the CIA will be one of them. I hope Relena gets roasted over a slow flame."

"She probably will if she can't pass the buck. Watch your back, Heero."

"Don't worry, I will. Call me if you hear anything more."

He hung up the phone and dialed Relena. It took five minutes to get through.

Relena's voice was sharp with strain. "I can't talk to you now, Heero."

"You will talk to me. Dekim?"

"Hai. The demand came ten minutes ago. Fifty million dollars or he'll target another city. If we pay up, he'll turn over all the remaining contaminated currency."

"Were the prisoners mentioned?"

"Iie. Trieze's out of it. Dekim assured us we'll only have him to deal with. And he told us to check out a helicopter explosion in Kansas City."

Another barrier eliminated from Dekim's path. "The truck driver was Trey Catalonia?"

"He matched the description."

"But no sign of him?"

"No. I've got to go. I've got CDC on the line. Otto's team is on its way to Collinsville."

"Have they came up with anything?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Nobody knows anything. Except that I'm to blame. But I'm not going to go down, Heero. No way. I'll find a way." She hung up the phone.

Heero had failed. All these years of tracking Dekim for nothing. Nakoa, L2, Tenajo, and now Collinsville. He should have been able to stop him. He should have ignored Relena and-

I'll find a way.

Relena was struggling frantically to survive.

And she was talking to the CDC.

Duo.

***************

John Hopkins

7:45 p.m.

In the waiting room I shivered as I watched the president's face on TV. He was stern but reassuring. Yes, they had received a message threatening another city, but no one should be alarmed. The contaminated money was being collected and burned. All agencies at his command were at work on capturing the terrorists who had committed this horror.

"He's not telling them there was no cure. He shouldn't be reassuring them. He should be scaring them into going to their homes and staying there. He's only worried about your damn stock market."

The news switched to Collinsville and a long shot of burning buildings. "Riots?" I couldn't believe it. "As if the situation there isn't bad enough."

The screen now showed quarantine wards, panicky faces.

"Seventy-six reported dead already," I whispered. "How many more?"

"Let's hope most of the people stashed the money away for themselves and didn't get generous."

"I hoped I could help. Why couldn't we have had a little more time? Maybe we could have saved some of those people."

"You're doing what you can, Duo."

"Tell that to those people in Collinsville."

"Disasters happen."

"This isn't disaster, it's murder."

Wufei nodded. "So why are you blaming yourself? Dekim is the one who-"

"Get your car and wait outside the emergency entrance, Wufei." It was Heero, striding into the room. "Duo, I'm getting you out of here."

I stared at him in shock. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Iris is-"

"You'll either go with me or you'll go with Relena. Either way you'll have to leave Iris. If you go with me, you'll be free and have leverage to deal for Iris's protection. If you let Relena swallow you up, you'll have no power at all. You'll be in some hospital or CDC unit and allowed out of sedation only long enough to give blood samples."

"Relena hasn't done that yet."

"She wasn't desperate. She is now. She'll present you as her hidden weapon, and naturally you have to be kept safe. It's a national emergency. Everyone knows individual rights have to be suspended during national emergencies." He turned to Wufei. "Hurry, we don't have much time."

I shook my head. "I won't leave Iris."

"He's making sense," Wufei told me. "Do what he says." He walked out, leaving me alone with Heero.

"I'm not going."

"Listen to me." Heero's voice was tense, desperate. "For God's sake listen. I know you hate me, and that's okay. But I'm telling you the truth. Everything's changed. We've got a panic on our hands, and Relena's going to have all the authority she needs. The only way you'll have any power at all is to not let her get a hold of you. Relena doesn't care about you or Iris, she cares about Relena. As long as your free, you have bargaining power." He gestured to the screen on which they were showing the riots. "Can't you see I'm not lying to you? I want you safe. I want Iris safe. Believe me."

I did believe him. I'd had enough experience with Relena to know that Heero's assessment was frighteningly accurate.

"We'll go down the emergency stairs."

I didn't move.

"Duo, I'm begging you," Heero said unsteadily. "Don't let this happen to you and Iris."

Iris. Iris was helpless, she couldn't protect herself, and if Relena took me away, she would have no one.

"I'll go." I strode out of the room.

Heero was instantly beside me. "Duo, I promise that-"

"Don't make me any promises. I don't want them from you." I stopped abruptly. "Relena's agents. Those two coming toward us."

"Relena must have ordered them to get you." Heero's hand was under my elbow, pushing me. "Run!"

I ran. Toward the emergency exit and down the stairs.

Heero was right behind me. A door burst open above me. Relena's agents. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

Third floor.

The agents were gaining on us. The footsteps were closer.

Second floor.

Heero pulled ahead of me and jerked the first floor door. "To the left and through the lobby!"

Marble floors, columns, a gift shop.

"Stop them!"

A red emergency sign over the double doors ahead.

A room full of people. More double doors.

Outside. The screech of tires as Wufei pulled up beside us.

Heero jerked open the rear door and pushed me inside.

They were on him. Heero elbowed one in the stomach and another in the chin.

"Take off!" He dove inside the car.

The car jerked forward and Wufei raced down the driveway with the rear door still swing open.

We were on the street, speeding toward the corner. Green light. We could make it.

I glanced over my shoulder. The agents were still chasing after us, running down the street…

The light turned red.

Wufei ran it.

Brakes screeched.

The agents had stopped and were standing in the middle of the street, staring after us.

The relief that rush through me dissipated immediately when Heero said, "They'll have the license plate number. We need to get out of this car." He reached out and closed the rear door. "Get to the airport quick, Wufei."

"And what do we do when we get to the airport?" Wufei asked.

"We'll have to decide that when we're airborne."

"You have a plane?" I asked.

"Relena arranged one for me earlier. That's how I got to the hospital so quickly after you called, Wufei." He smiled grimly. "Don't you think it's fitting that we make out getaway in a plane that Relena got for me?"

"I doubt if Relena will think so," Wufei said. "And I'm not at all sure my government will approve either. There's such a thing as abuse of diplomatic immunity. Oh, well, such is life."

"I want Iris protected every minute. I want those guards back on her floor," I said. "What if Dekim finds out she's there?"

"I don't think it's an immediate problem. He's a little busy now." Heero held up his hand. "I know. It's top priority. We'll take care of it."

"How?"

"I don't know. Let me work on it. I'll see that she's safe. I promise."

I'd told him I didn't want his promises. But he'd lived up to his promises before. Against all odds, he had found medical help for Iris and Iris had lived.

Heero was gazing at me, searching my expression. "Okay?"

I looked away from him. "Okay. I'll take help anywhere I can get it. Even from you."

***************

8:16 p.m.

The son of a bitch.

Trey Catalonia stared incredulously at his face on the TV above the counter, his hands clenching into fists. The picture of him was the group shot at the derby. It had been blown up and wasn't clear, but he was recognizable.

"Anything else?" the convenience store clerk asked.

"No." Trey picked up the cigarettes he'd just bought, stuffed them into his shirt pocket, and hurried out of the store. He glanced back cautiously over his shoulder to see if the clerk was looking at him. No, he saw with relief that the man was waiting on the next customer.

He jumped into his car and peeled off, out of the gas station. The fucking terrorist bastard had set him up. The police would never stop looking for him. Everyone in the country was going to be on the lookout. And he wouldn't have known about it if he hadn't run out of cigarettes.

Don't make any stops, Dekim had said.

Oh, no, don't stop anywhere. If he stopped, he'd hear how Dekim had set him up. Even the getaway car had no radio. He was like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

Slaughter.

His stomach twisted with panic. What was he going to do?

Mama. Mama was smart. She would find a place to hide him. She would think of a way to help him.

He had to get to Mama.