Extinction Machine

Chapter Eighteen

Little Palm Island Resort

Little Torch Key, Florida

Sunday, October 20, 6:21 a.m.

Erasmus Tull stood by the slatted wooden rail of the deck and watched the woman walk from the surf wearing a scuba tank and a bikini bottom that was barely more than a swatch of colored cloth. The ocean was a soft blue, shades lighter than the sky, and it was unseasonably warm for October. Water streamed down the woman’s tanned legs and beaded on the undersides of her small breasts. Her nipples were bright pink after her exertions and they looked somehow more sensual and more vulnerable that way. Tull felt a heavy throb deep in his loins.

He sipped his Scotch and smiled.

The woman called herself Berenice, but that was as false as the name he’d used when they had booked this vacation.

Berenice stopped by the chaise lounges on their private stretch of beach, hit the release on the tank harness, and slid it off. Tull watched her, appreciating the care she took as she lowered the tank to the sand rather than letting it drop. That kind of consideration went a long way with him. He despised the casual arrogance of so many of the scions of the super-rich. The ones whose access to wealth encouraged them to value nothing, and to even show contempt for property—anyone’s property, even their own—merely because it had no true value in their minds.

This one was different, even though she was the daughter of the billionaire Dutch owners of Donderbus Elektronica, the second largest military weapons manufacturer in Europe. Berenice stayed out of the tabloids as often as possible, and gave the paparazzi nothing to sell beyond the occasional long-distance topless photo. And who cared a damn about that? Not when the Internet was rife with celebrity sex tapes pedaled by disgruntled exes of lower income or station. Not her, though. Not this lovely woman with the long legs and liquid green eyes. Berenice was quiet—boring by media standards—preferring to linger inside her own head, to explore her thoughts with as much diligence and receptive interest as she maintained for the seas in which she swam. She and Tull had snorkeled and dived in the ocean, sometimes swimming naked under star fields scattered with ten billion diamonds.

Tull wondered if he was falling in love with her.

He wasn’t sure if he could. Some of the others in his family seemed to manage it; others did not. So far, he hadn’t.

It troubled him, as it often did when he wondered at the big empty places inside his head and heart. He took another brooding sip. The rich Balvenie 191 burned its way down his throat with such elegance that he closed his eyes for a moment to explore the complex subtleties of the whiskey. This, he decided, was what love probably felt like. So—was that what he felt for Berenice?

After weeks with her he still wasn’t sure.

The cool breeze off the ocean ruffled his blond curls.

Berenice picked up her sunglasses from the table between the lounges and put them on, then she stood for a long minute looking off toward the swaying trees that grew lush and dense here on Little Palm Island. Tull followed the line of her gaze and saw a small key deer step daintily out from between the trunks of two torchwood trees. It was a young doe whose coat was still splashed with faint spots and was only now growing into the gray brown of adulthood. The deer seemed unaware of the woman as it poked around on the ground for fallen thatch pine berries.

Tull knew that Berenice was as unaware of being watched as was the deer, and her unguarded smile was lovely. Peaceful and uncomplicated in a way that lent her face a look of profound serenity.

Yes, thought Tull, you are falling in love, old sport.

The cell phone on the porch railing began to ring. It was a soft sound, not enough to startle deer or woman. A very specific ringtone. Tull picked it up and clicked the button with a thumbnail.

“Go,” he said.

Berenice heard him and she turned, still smiling, and gave him a small wave. Tull blew her a kiss.

The caller said, “There is a fire in heaven.”

Tull sighed and parked a haunch on the rail. He frowned into the amber depths of his drink as he swirled the Scotch around and around.

“Are you sure you have the right number?” he asked. It wasn’t the agreed-upon response code, but he was annoyed at having the moment spoiled. There were so few moments like this in his life.

There was a slight pause at the other end. “There is a fire in—”

“Yes, I heard you,” sighed Tull.

Down below Berenice was trying to approach the deer with the bread and lettuce from the sandwich she’d left unfinished before going diving. The doe peered at her with a blend of innocence and natural wariness, her muscles tensed for flight.

The silence on the other end of the line was ponderous.

Tull shook his head and wondered if it wouldn’t be better to simply chuck the phone out into the salt water. He didn’t need to work anymore—he had enough money squirrelled away to live in sybaritic comfort for the rest of his life. Granted, he enjoyed the work, but today he was in a different head space.

Berenice crept closer to the deer, and the animal still had not fled. The princess moved like a tai chi practitioner, keeping her weight on her back leg, letting the other move out slowly to find its place, and then using a controlled shift of her body to empty her weight from one leg and fill it onto the other leg. It was so smooth it was as if she glided across the sand. No jerky steps. Lots of pauses to allow the deer to find its trust and its courage. Tull found it both fascinating and very sexy. Not because of the similarity to tai chi, but because a beautiful woman wearing only a skimpy bikini bottom stalking like a hunter pushed a lot of the right buttons in Tull’s libido.

The caller tried it one more time. “There is a fire in heaven.”

Tull really wanted to drop the phone and stomp on it. Instead he gave the counter-code. “Where are the angels?”

“In the east,” said the caller.

“Hello, Mr. Bones.”

“Hello, Mr. Tull. I trust you are well.”

“I was better before the phone rang.”

“Ah. Then, on behalf of the governors, please accept my apologies. However, your services are needed.”

“Send someone else,” said Tull.

“We can’t,” said Bones, and Tull heard a note of alarm in his voice. “There are complications.”

The doe spooked and bolted, vanishing into the woods. Berenice stood, the sandwich in her hands, her disappointment written in the lines of her body. Even so, the day remained beautiful. Bees and dragonflies flitted from flower to flower and far away a few white clouds floated like sleeping giants on the bed of the horizon.

“What complications?”

“Religious complications.”

It took a moment for Tull to grasp the meaning from the obtuse language. His pulse quickened. Religious complications.

Religion.

Church.

God almighty.

“Tell me,” he said. Mr. Bones told him.

With each word the colors seemed to drain out of the day. The music of the waves turned to noise; the sound of the songbirds became the discordant chatter of pests. It was how it always happened. It was how it usually was for him. Sadness crept into his heart as he felt the magic that defined this day, this place, this moment, slip like oiled flesh through his fingers.

Below, the princess turned and began walking along the beach toward their bungalow. Sunlight reached for her through the trees and dappled her breasts and shoulders. Tull sighed, and the sound of it, even to his own ears, was filled with weariness and sadness.

“Very well,” said Tull.

“You’ll accept the assignment?”

“Yes.” His voice was a soft croak. “Send me any intel you have. I’ve got a little travel time ahead of me, but I can be there soon. Have my jet fueled and the airport cleared. Call Aldo—I’ll need him. In the meantime, make sure there are some good people on this guy Ledger. See if you can put him in a box until I can get there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tull. We have assets in play as we speak.”

The line went dead.

Tull finished his Scotch and set the glass down and leaned on the rail with both hands. It would be so hard to leave this place. To leave this woman. To leave this chance at being like other people. At being normal.

At being human.

Tull sighed again, and went inside to pack.