Extinction Machine

Chapter Ninety-four

House of Jack Ledger

Sunday, October 20, 8:43 p.m.

We gathered in my uncle’s den. Echo Team, Junie, Ghost, and Church. Brick and Birddog stood like tall bookends at either side of the fireplace. Church sat very straight and very carefully in an overstuffed chair. I later learned that he had two broken fingers, a separated shoulder, dozens of small cuts and over forty stitches. The bandage wrapped around his forehead hid a deep gash made by the same piece of broken metal that had nearly blinded Rudy. His tinted sunglasses were gone and I got my first real look at his eyes. They were so dark a brown that they looked black, and there was no mercy at all in them. He had to be in tremendous pain, but he endured it with grim stoicism.

“What about Mr. Bug?” asked Junie. “And the other man who was on the video conference. Dr. Hu?”

“They’re in New York,” said Church. “I’ve ordered all field offices evacuated. Staff has been moved to secondary locations while bomb teams are doing thorough inspections.”

“Why didn’t Auntie or Bug tell me you and Rudy were alive?” I asked.

“For the same reason I did not call ahead to tell you I was on my way. Given the timing with everything that’s happened today, I think it’s a safe bet that one or more of the DMS communication channels has been hacked. The very fact that a team was sent after you quickly enough to have arrived within a half an hour of you reaching the lighthouse makes that much clearer. The DMS is radio silent for now. I had Birddog bring one of the new prototype mike systems for you. You’ll swap that for your old stuff.”

Birddog used the toe of his boot to tap the equipment case on the floor. “Got you covered,” boss.

“What about the bomb?” asked Lydia. “What kind of explosive did they use?”

“Unknown. Detective Spencer and his team are coordinating with state and federal investigators to answer that question. There is a curious lack of residue. No nitrites, no radiation. No chemical signature of any kind that they have so far been able to detect. It may be that this is a new form of explosive.”

Church told us what happened. His voice was flat, dispassionate.

“Sir,” began Bunny, “do we know anything of substance?”

That question ignited a spark in Church’s eye. A small, cold flame. “We do not yet know who ordered the hit, though I suspect we are close to a name,” he said, “but we know who set off that bomb.”

Everyone came to point, eyes narrowing, mouths drawing tight into feral lines of undisguised hate.

“Who?” I said in a fierce whisper.

“He used to be a field agent,” said Church. “One of mine. One of the very best. He was already highly trained when I recruited him into a group I was running prior to the formation of the DMS. We brought him to a higher level of skill, but that statement doesn’t do him justice. He quickly became the go-to operator for any operation that required unparalleled combat and technical skills. Had things gone another way I have no doubt that he would have become a senior team leader. I would almost certainly have given him leadership of Echo Team during the seif al din matter … but he was gone by then.”

“What happened?”

“You cannot serve two masters,” said Church. “I think it’s safe to say that he was steered in my direction with the goal of my providing him with more advanced training than his true masters had been able to provide. It’s likely that he became a trainer himself.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “the Closers?”

“It would be my guess. Tull called me directly before triggering the bomb and—”

“Wait,” interrupted Junie. “What did you say? What was his name?”

“Tull,” said Church. “His name is Erasmus Tull.”

Junie made a sound. It was almost a gasp, but there was more to it than that. It was as if everything she was suddenly tried to jerk backward out of the moment. Everyone turned to her. Junie’s face was as white as paste. Her eyes were wide disks filled with an impossible amount of naked fear.

“Tull…,” she breathed. “Oh my God.”

She slid out of her chair and thumped to the floor, half unconscious from shock. I was up and across the room in a shot. I knelt beside her and took her by the shoulders.

It took effort. It cost her in ways I couldn’t immediately understand. She raised her face and looked at me, then at the others in the room, and finally at Rudy and Church. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and then broke, rolling down her cheeks.

“He’s my older brother,” she whispered.