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.