Callsign: King II- Underworld

Copeland nodded slowly, and King knew he’d finally gotten through to the man. He placed a reassuring hand on the physicist’s shoulder and turned his chair around to face the computer terminal.

He heard Pierce speak to the soldier who had just entered. “Sergeant De Bord?”

Two voices spoke, almost at exactly the same moment. The first was the electronically produced and amplified female voice of Brainstorm. “Dr. Copeland, you must disregard Mr. Sigler’s request. A complete activation cycle is the only way to ensure that the threat is neutralized.”

The second voice was completely unfamiliar. “My apologies, Dr. Pierce, but I fear I have misled you. I am not De Bord.”

Something about the Russian accent sent a chill down King’s spine.





34.


King knew without looking that the newcomer was pointing a weapon at him. “Just tell me one thing,” he said. “Is this guy working for you?”

There was a pause, and for a fleeting second, King feared he’d read the scene wrong. Then Brainstorm responded. “Whom are you addressing, Mr. Sigler?”

“Who do you think? This is all your show, right? The remote-control puppet master? I know that you’re the money behind Bluelight. I just want to know if you’re also the reason I’ve got a gang of Russian hitmen chasing me all over the country.” King turned slowly toward the ersatz soldier. “I only ask because if he pulls the trigger like I think he’s about to, he’s just as likely to kill Copeland. Now, if he’s not working for you…”

“You have made a valid point, Mr. Sigler. Mr. Sokoloff, please avoid doing anything that might harm Dr. Copeland.”

King breathed a silent sigh of relief that his hunch had been right. Brainstorm had been behind the attempted killing in New York, and now it seemed his hired assassin was here to finish the job. He recognized the man’s name. Ivan Sokoloff was probably the most notorious hitman ever to have lived, with an alleged body count of nearly five hundred victims. Officially, he’d been found murdered, but many had suspected what King now knew to be the truth: he had faked his death and gone underground.

He seized on this slim advantage, turning to Copeland. “I bet you didn’t realize the kind of people you’re dealing with. Your research is safe, DARPA will fund you, but you can’t take your orders from Brainstorm anymore. Shut it down.”

“Dr. Copeland, you have your instructions,” Brainstorm said quickly. “Allow the test to continue.”

“No,” Copeland seemed to sit up a little straighter. “He’s right. This is insane. We should have suspended operations after the first incident. I’m turning Bluelight off.”

“Dr. Copeland, if you continue with this course of action, it will be necessary to compel you with the threat of lethal force.”

“Lethal…?”

“Mr. Sokoloff, if he does not move away from the workstation immediately, you are authorized—”

The end of the threat was lost as the report of Sokoloff’s M4 filled the room. Blood sprayed across the computer screen and Copeland slumped forward, his head smashing into the keyboard.

King reacted instantly, diving over the desk as Sokoloff triggered another burst. The 5.56 millimeter rounds scorched the air where he’d been standing. He shouted, “Run!” and then kept moving, scrambling for cover, but there weren’t many places to hide and the exits were all completely exposed.

King’s mind clicked into combat mode; everything he saw was evaluated on its potential for use as a defensive weapon or to provide cover against incoming fire. Unfortunately, the cheap pressboard desks and tables didn’t offer much of either, and he realized he was going to need some kind of miracle to stay alive.

What he got was no miracle.





35.


Pierce kicked himself for not having seen through the phony soldier’s fake accent. But never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that one of the Russians who had attacked them in New York, would follow them here, masquerade as a soldier and then actually help him survive a foray into the underworld, all in an effort to get closer to King.

When the first shot was fired, he grabbed Nina’s hand and pulled her down behind a table. He heard King’s admonition to run, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere to go. Still, putting a little distance between them and the gunman seemed like a good idea.