“Thanks,” said Desh gratefully. He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes.
Desh re-opened his eyes with a start to find the massive figure of Matt Griffin standing over him, shaking him roughly with an anxious but irate expression. Desh glanced at his watch. He had been sleeping for almost two hours. Incredible. He had closed his eyes just an instant before. He was still tired, but this period of concentrated sleep would be enough to allow him to operate at a high level for the rest of the day, if necessary.
“What?” mumbled Desh worriedly as the rage on Griffin’s face began to register.
Griffin thrust a scrap of paper in front of his eyes. ARE WE BEING BUGGED?
“No,” said Desh aloud, shaking his head “We were, but I cleared them. Why? What’s going on?”
Griffin handed him a piece of paper. “You got an e-mail from Kira Miller,” he snapped.
Desh bolted upright, now fully awake.
“Read it and tell me what the hell is going on!” barked Griffin angrily.
Desh’s heart pounded furiously as he turned to the message.
From: xc86vzi
To: Matt Griffin
Re: Urgent! For David Desh
Matt Griffin:
David probably removed any bugs from your apartment, but remain silent about this message and assume you’re being bugged until he indicates otherwise. Please give this message to David immediately.
David Desh:
I bugged the sweatpants I provided to you as a precautionary measure. Once again, I’m sorry about the invasion of privacy. I modified the bug to make it undetectable by your equipment (Impossible—I know). I just finished listening to the record of your conversations with Connelly and Smith that were forwarded to my computer.
Desh stifled a curse and clenched his teeth in fury. She was always one step ahead of him. She had correctly named the two people he had spoken with during the night, which meant she wasn’t bluffing. He was being outsmarted at every turn. He retrieved the sweatpants he had worn the night before, opened the door, and threw them as far down the hallway as he could manage. Griffin watched him angrily, not saying a word.
Desh was furious with himself, but forced his focus back to the e-mail message, knowing that self-recrimination would have to wait. He continued reading:
We need to finish our discussion. I have precious little time now to provide details (I was planning to last night) but a batch of the gellcaps I told you about were stolen years ago. There is another enhanced human at large (or “golden goose” to use Smith’s terminology). He is the one who is ruthless and has powerful people in his pocket, not me. He is also the one behind the effort to find me. It is critical that he be stopped.
Smith is lying to you: the rival who stole my treatment is behind the Ebola plot, not me.
I know you don’t trust me, but trust this: Jim Connelly won’t live out the day if you don’t act. You need to warn him and then bring him fully up to speed. You called him and raised his suspicions and he’s in a powerful position to pry and make life uncomfortable for the true psychopaths here. Like you, he is a man who can’t be bought, so they will kill him to prevent him from learning the truth. Don’t trust me, but please err on the side of caution. Stakes this high bring out the aberrant personality types we spoke of like moths to a flame.
They will kill you as soon as they come to believe you won’t lead them to me. They will clean up behind you as well, which means killing Matt Griffin the first chance they get.
Good luck
Kira Miller
Desh looked up from the message in alarm and immediately was met by Griffin’s icy stare. “Can you tell me what the hell I’ve gotten myself into?” he demanded. “Ebola plot! What the hell does that mean? She says some group out there plans to kill you and me both. You said I’d be safe. It sure doesn’t sound that way!” he spat.
“Okay, Matt, no more secrets,” said Desh, his voice calm. “You’re far more involved than I ever expected you to be, and for that I am truly sorry. You deserve the truth. But I need to think through the implications of this e-mail first. How securely was it sent? Could it have been intercepted?”
“No way. She’s as good as it gets and my computer is a fortress.”
Desh nodded, not surprised. As usual, she was careful and smart. But was the message simply another of her manipulations? Desh was getting awfully tired of being a pawn in a game for which he didn’t know either the rules or the players.
He made a snap decision. Whether Kira had her own nemesis or not was something he could consider at a later time. But her logic was sound and his gut told him to take her warning about Connelly very seriously. Jim Connelly was a good man and Desh agreed that he couldn’t be bought. But the jury was still out on Smith.