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She cocked her head. “Okay…you know they’ll be watching him. He’s your only living relative.”

Daniel sighed. “I know. Vinny did as much recon as he could via the web; it looks like they haven’t picked him up or anything.”

“He’s bait.”

“Yup.”

“Probably got everything wired and tapped.”

“Yup.”

“And you want me to figure out how to bring him in.”

“Yup.”

“Okay…well, I’m a bit out of practice but I think I can do it.” She smiled, a white shiny thing in her cherry-cheeked face. “By the way, I hate you.”

His eyes widened and he snorted. “Really? Why?”

“That damn Eden virus. Larry’s uncle Leroy is starting to look good to me.”

He laughed. “Well, he is a good-looking man for sixty.”

“He’s a good looking man for forty-five, which is about how old he seems now. And he’s been looking at me too. Do you think it’s too soon…” She put a finger in her mouth to bite the nail, a most un-Cassie-like thing.

He reached out to hug her. “Only you can decide that. Nobody here will hold it against you. This thing is making a whole new world, a whole new human biology.” He patted her, then let go to hold her at arms’ length. “What would Zeke have wanted?”

“Oh, I know. He was always so damn cheerful and understanding. Not my idea of a Green Beret when we met.”

“I’m sure you weren’t his idea of a CIA spymaster. So you have my blessing, whatever you do. Just remember, nine months later…” He let go of her, miming a big belly.

“Oh, God, that’s right. Well…I have pills, that may delay things.”

“Or the Plague may just laugh and run roughshod over your pills.”

“Okay, you’ve freaked me out enough. What about your father?”

“I don’t know. You’re the spy. Do some spy stuff. Make a plan of action for me to carry out.” Daniel pointed at little faces peeking in the door. “Your ten minutes is up. Come see me when you got something, hopefully in a day or two.” He waved on his way out to the children, who chorused, “Bye, Mister Daniel!”

Kids can adapt to anything.

***

Spooky and Daniel sat in the old beat-up pickup truck they had bought for cash that morning, no questions asked. They had put up reflective sun shades in the windshield and door windows, and they watched through the gaps around the edges. Parked in the lot of David Markis’ Veterans of Foreign Wars hall, their vehicle blended right in. As the sun went down the old men and women started arriving. Some younger ones too, from the latest wars, but the VFW was a slowly-dying institution, held together by camaraderie and cheap drinks under club rules. The marquee out front said “Bingo Tonight,” and Daniel knew his dad never missed it.

“There he is,” he said as he watched his father get out of his Chrysler. David Markis looked pretty good for sixty-plus, still slim and spry, so different from Daniel’s more muscular physique.

“And there they are,” answered Spooky, as a dark late model heavy sedan drove slowly past his parking spot, then backed into another.

“No imagination. I can smell the Big Brother on them from here.”

“You think they Feds or still contractors?”

“With that car? Contractors would have had more imagination. You know what that means, right?

“It mean Mister Jenkins spread the word. Not just INS, Inc. anymore.”

“Right you are, though I doubt he’s spilled his guts completely. So. You got them?”

“Easy as pie, Chairman DJ. You think there is more than two?”

“Yeah, but these are the closest ones. Hopefully we will be gone before the farther ones notice. Do your stuff now. I’ll go in the back and get Dad.”

Spooky slipped out of the truck to work his way around the parking lot, low to the ground. In the fading light he might as well have been invisible. Daniel pulled his trucker’s cap low over his eyes and headed for the back door to the hall.

Inside, the sounds of music, the beeps of game machines, and the murmur of conversation surrounded him. He smelled cigarettes and beer and wine and harder stuff, as the barmaids poured drinks for the members from their own marked bottles. That was how they avoided controls and taxation – brought in your own bottle then paid the organization to mix and serve your drinks. Club rules.

Daniel stood at the inside end of the short hallway opening into the main room. It was Friday night, and the bingo was just setting up. There were a few card games going on the side, and a short line of eager players in front of the registration table. His dad stood in it.

Daniel swallowed a lump. It was good to see him. It had been too long.

He intercepted the older man as soon as he had gotten his bingo cards, steering him toward the hallway leading back out the rear door. “Hey, what?” David said, jerking away before Daniel lifted his hat to show his face. He put a finger to his lips before his father could cry out.

Daniel whispered in his ear, “Great to see you, Dad, but we got a situation. You’re being watched, because they want to find me. You got to didi-mao with me now. Give me your cell phone.”

The elder Markis stared at his son a moment, wheels turning behind his eyes, then reached into a pocket and handed him the phone. Daniel pulled him into the men’s room, dropping the phone into the tank of one of the old toilets. He mimed getting undressed, opening up the paper bag he carried and taking out a set of cheap sweats and a pair of sneakers. His dad changed silently, eyes questioning. Daniel shrugged, held his fingers up to his lips, then his ear. His father nodded.

Daniel picked up his father’s wallet, ran a bug-finder over it with negative results, then put it in his pocket. Everything else of his dad’s except his handgun and ammo went into a plastic bag. They slipped out the back, and tossed the bag into a pickup truck bed chosen at random. Follow that, Jenkins.

They got into their own pickup truck and pulled out the sun screens, pushing them behind the seats. “Damn, son, you’re makin’ me miss bingo, and I’m supposed to meet a nice young lady here. What –” He broke off as Spooky appeared at the passenger door, climbing in silently. His dad moved over on the bench seat to the middle. Daniel drove casually out of the parking lot, just another patron of the VFW leaving early.

“All clear, Spooky?”

“Two more infected, Chairman DJ. And out for a while.”

“Excellent. Dad…this is a long story, but we have a few hours on the road. Just listen for a while, okay? It’s freaky.”

They told him everything, start to finish, sparing no detail. It took some time.

David J. Markis was nothing if not a quick study, whip-smart in a way that Daniel wasn’t, he’d be the first to admit. The elder Markis ate it up. His first words were, “All right. Give it to me.”

“What? So soon? Don’t you need to think about it?”

“You must have brought some. Your Montagnard buddy here ‘infected’ the surveillance, he said. I presume that’s to complicate their logistics. With the virtue effect, they won’t be useful to the opposition for a while, unless they can brainwash them. But that means you got a needle around here somewhere, or one of you can just bite me. So do it. We might have a crash on the way. They might come after us before we get to this bunker of yours. I don’t wanna miss out on immortality because I was too timid.”

Daniel shrugged, not really surprised. “No one would ever call you timid, Dad. Okay, Spooky, you heard the man. Shoot him up.”

Spooky silently took out the syringe.

A moment later his dad rolled down his sleeve, then sat back. “Now what?”

“Now we wait. There’s some protein shakes in that box on the floor – hey Spooky, pass me one, will you?” Daniel guzzled a can. “You might as well drink one now. And I’ll tell you how we’re going to make a better world.”

-22-