The Chemist Part 43

The look he gave her was less than thrilled. "I categorically refuse to compromise in any way for Kevin's sake."

"Can I please at least make my case before you dismiss it?"

He kept his expression stern, but she could tell he wanted to smile. "Do what you have to do, but I will not be swayed."

"We have limited time, and we both need to clean up. That showerslashlap pool in there will easily fit two-well, actually it could fit twelve-and I was thinking we could mult.i.task."

The hard-line expression disappeared. "I immediately withdraw my opposition and offer my full cooperation."

"I thought you might see it that way."

CHAPTER 25.

Because there's no reason for you to go," Kevin objected.

Kevin stood in front of the elevator doors, blocking the call b.u.t.ton, arms crossed over his chest.

"Why not?" Daniel demanded.

"You're not going to be a part of the offensive, Danny, so you don't need to be a part of the preparation."

Daniel's lips mashed together into a scowl.

"It doesn't hurt anything for him-" Alex began mildly.

"Except someone could see his face," Kevin growled.

"You mean your face?" she countered.

"I'm smart enough to keep my head down."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'll ride in the trunk if you want."

Kevin evaluated the two of them for a long second. "Are you going to let me focus?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

Kevin closed his eyes; he seemed to be calming himself. He inhaled through his nose, then looked at Daniel.

"Here are my requirements for you to join us on this very boring, standard recon exercise: No one will speak of what happened this morning. I will not be forced to remember the nauseating things I witnessed. There will be no discussion that might allude to said nauseating things. This is business, and you will conduct yourself appropriately. Agreed?"

Daniel's neck started to flush. She was sure he was going to mention the fact that if Kevin hadn't broken in to a locked room in the middle of the night, he wouldn't have seen anything. Before Daniel could object, Alex said, "Agreed. Appropriate businesslike behavior."

Kevin glanced back and forth between them, measuring again. After a second, he turned and hit the call b.u.t.ton.

Daniel gave her a Really? look. Alex shrugged.

"None of that!" Kevin commanded, though he still had his back to them.

"What?" Daniel complained.

"I can feel you two silently communicating. Stop it."

IT WAS A quiet drive in the average-looking black sedan. She didn't know if it was Val's car or something Kevin had acquired. It didn't seem like Val's style, but maybe she liked to be incognito sometimes. Alex appreciated the heavily tinted windows. She felt less exposed as she sat with her ball cap pulled low over her face and stared out at the still mostly sleeping city. They were early enough to beat the morning rush.

Kevin drove through a seedier section of town-more the kind of neighborhood she would have expected his hiding place to exist in. He pulled in at a storage facility that seemed to be mostly enormous cargo containers. There was no guard posted, just a keypad and a heavy metal gate with razor-wire coils on top. Kevin drove them to a spot near the back of the fenced lot and parked behind a dingy orange container.

The lot appeared to be empty, but Alex kept her face down and her walk unfeminine as they moved to the wide double doors that made up the front wall of the container. Kevin plugged a complicated sequence of numbers into the heavy-duty rectangular lock, then pulled it out of the way. He opened one door just a few feet and waved them inside.

It was black when Kevin pulled the door shut behind himself. Then there was a low click, and rope lights lining the ceiling and the floor glowed to life.

"Exactly how many Batcaves do you have?" Alex demanded.

"Just a few, here and there, where I might need them," Kevin said. "This one's mobile, so that helps."

The inside of Kevin's cargo container was tightly packed but compulsively organized. Like the barn in Texas, there was a place for everything.

Racks of clothing-costumes, really-were wedged against the wall by the double doors. She was sure that was on purpose-if someone got a glimpse inside while the doors were open, all he would see was clothes. A casual observer wouldn't think anything of it. A more careful observer might think it was odd that uniforms for every branch of the military were hanging together, along with mechanic's coveralls and several utility companies' official garb, not to mention the raggedy components of a homeless man's outfit hanging a few feet down from a row of dark suits that ranged from off-the-rack to high-end designer. A person could blend into a lot of situations with these clothes.

The props were in bins over the clothes racks-briefcases and clipboards, toolboxes and suitcases. The shoes were in clear plastic boxes underneath.

Beyond the costumes, deep floor-to-ceiling metal cabinets were installed. Kevin guided her through each; she took note of the things she might need. As in the barn, there was a s.p.a.ce for guns, for ammo, for armor, for explosives, for knives. There were other things that hadn't been in Texas, or if they were, they'd been better hidden than the rest. He had a cabinet full of various tech items-tiny cameras and bugs, tracking devices, night-vision goggles, binoculars and scopes, electromagnetic-pulse generators of various sizes, a few laptop computers, and dozens of gadgets she didn't recognize. He identified the code breakers, the frequency readers, the frequency jammers, the system hackers, the mini-drones... She lost track after a while. It was unlikely that she would want to use anything she wasn't familiar with.

The next cabinet was chemical compounds.

"Yes," she hissed, digging past the front row to see what was behind. "This I can use."

"Thought you'd appreciate that."

"Do you mind?" she asked, holding up a sealed cylinder of a catalytic she knew she was almost out of.

"Take whatever you want. I don't think I've ever used any of that stuff."

She crouched down to the lower shelf and loaded several more jars and packages into her backpack. Ah, this one she needed. "Then why do you have it?"

Kevin shrugged. "I had access. Never look a gift horse-"

"Ha!" She stared up at him triumphantly.

"What?"

"You told me that was a stupid saying."

Kevin raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Sometimes it's really hard not to kick you."

"I know precisely how you feel."

Daniel moved to stand between her and Kevin. She shook her head at him. It was just banter. With the brief lecture on appropriate behavior out of the way, Kevin had s.h.i.+fted back to his normal self-something in between a serial killer and the world's most obnoxious big brother. Alex was getting used to it; she didn't mind him as much anymore.

Grumbling about silent communication, Kevin stalked back to the ammo cabinet and started filling a large black bag with reserves.

"First aid?" she asked.

"In the knife locker, top shelf."

There were several zippered black bags over the knives, some of them about the size of a backpack, others smaller, like shaving kits. She couldn't reach any of them, so Daniel pulled them down and she combed through them on the floor.

The first smaller bag she opened had no medical supplies-instead, there were little packets of doc.u.ments neatly rubber-banded together for easy sorting. She quickly pulled out a Canadian pa.s.sport and glanced at the ID page. As she'd expected, there was a photo of Kevin with a different name-Terry Williams. She glanced up. Kevin had his back to her. She grabbed two of the packets and stuffed them into the bottom of her backpack, then zipped the bag closed.

These particular items wouldn't be of any help to her, but she had to be prepared for other outcomes. She peeked at Daniel; he wasn't paying attention to her, either. He was looking at the array of knives with a disbelieving expression. It made her wonder how long he could survive on his own with what he'd learned so far.

Alex pulled open one of the bigger bags but wasn't thrilled with what she found inside. It was a fairly basic kit, with nothing that she didn't already have. She checked the next bag, then the last. Nothing that wasn't in the first.

"What's missing?" Kevin asked.

She jumped slightly; she hadn't heard him approach. He must have read her disappointed expression.

"I'd like access to some decent trauma supplies, just in case..."

"Okay. Grab up whatever else you want here, and then we'll go get some."

"Just that easy?" she asked skeptically.

"Sure."

She raised one eyebrow. "We're going to walk into a medical facility and ask to purchase some surplus?"

"No!" He made a face implying the stupidity of her suggestion. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase It fell off a truck? You got some of that knockout stuff on you now?"

"Yes."

"Then hurry, so we can get out there before all the trucks have finished their deliveries."

ALEX'S BACKPACK WAS now stocked with ammo for her various appropriated guns-the SIG Sauer, the Glock she hadn't abandoned, the shotgun, Daniel's rifle-and her own PPK. She'd taken two extra handguns from the stash, because you never knew, and ammo for those as well. From the tech case she'd grabbed two sets of goggles, some trackers, and two EMP generators of different sizes. She wasn't sure what she would use any of them for, but she might not have time to get back here if there was an emergency. While she shopped through his gear, Kevin reset the lock so that the usual birth-date code would let her back in.

Or Daniel, if things really went south.

"So, what are my options for chemically incapacitating another human being?" Kevin asked when they were back on the road. Alex drove this time.

"Let's see... do you want airborne or contact?"

Kevin gave her a sidelong look. "Which do you recommend?"

"Depends on your approach. Will the target be in an enclosed s.p.a.ce?"

"How would I know? I'll be improvising."

She huffed out a breath. "Fine. Take both. Daniel, can you grab the perfume bottle in the outside pocket of my backpack? It's in a Ziploc bag."

"Found it," Daniel said after a minute. "Here." He pa.s.sed it up to Kevin. Kevin turned it over in his hands.

"Looks empty."

"Mm-hm," Alex agreed. "Pressurized gas. Now," she said, stretching her left arm across her body and holding her hand toward him. "Take the silver one."

He pulled the ring off her third finger, and then his eyebrows mashed down in surprise when the tiny clear tube and attached rubber squeeze pouch came out one after the other, like a couple of handkerchiefs from the sleeve of a mediocre magician. His expression turned skeptical.

"What's this supposed to do?"

"See the little hatch on the inside? Swing it open. Be careful."

Kevin examined the tiny hollow barb, then looked at the little round rubber bag. It was quiet enough to hear the faint sound of liquid slos.h.i.+ng inside.

"Hold the pouch in your palm," she directed, pantomiming as she explained. "Put your hand down hard on your target." She gestured to Daniel, who obligingly held out his arm. She grabbed his wrist-not violently, just forcefully. "The subject will feel the p.r.i.c.k and try to pull away automatically. Hold on. If you're doing it right, the liquid in the pouch will be expelled through the barb." She released Daniel when she finished.

"And then what happens?" Kevin asked.

"Your target takes a nap-for an hour, maybe two, depending on his or her size."

"This thing is tiny," he complained, holding the ring between his thumb and forefinger and staring through the hole.

"Sorry. I'll try to have bigger hands for you next time. Put it on your pinkie."

"Who wears a pinkie ring?"

She smiled. "I think it will suit perfectly."

Daniel chuckled.

Kevin shoved the ring onto his littlest finger, but it made it only over his first knuckle. The pouch barely reached his palm. He'd need more tubing if he ever wanted to hide it in his sleeve. He frowned at the apparatus for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "Neat."

Daniel leaned forward and gestured to the rings Alex still wore. "What do those other two do?"

She lifted her right hand, wiggling her ring finger with the gold band. "Kills you easy." She held up the middle finger of her left hand with the rose-gold band. "Kills you hard."

"Oh, hey!" Kevin said in sudden realization. "Is that what that girlie slap back in West Virginia was about?"