CHAPTER 113
Immari Tunnels
Gibraltar
David pulled the trigger again. Another click.
“I removed the firing pin,” Craig said. “I knew you would be able to tell the difference between a loaded and unloaded gun, so it was the best choice. And I needed to get you down here.”
“Why?”
“I’ve already told you. I’m here to recruit you. By the time we’re done talking, you’ll know the truth and you’ll finally—”
“I won’t. You can kill me now—”
“I’d rather not, David. Good men are hard to come by. There’s another reason: you know more than anyone else. You’re in a unique position to—”
“You know why I joined Clocktower, what the Immari took from me. What you took from me.”
“Not me. Dorian. Dieter. Granted, I used Clocktower to make sure no intelligence agencies got wind of the plot, but he planned 9/11. It was his brainchild. He was obsessed with searching those mountains for his father. He desperately needed some kind of closure. It wasn’t the only reason. As I said before, our organization was in shambles when I awoke in 1978, and we were still recovering in 2001. We needed money and a global cover to resume our work.”
“Impossible. Dorian Sloane is Dieter Kane?”
“It’s true. When I awoke in 1978, I ordered his tube opened, and he walked right out, as healthy as he could be. The tube must also be some sort of healing device, a medical treatment pod of some sort. But its powers are limited to treating the living. I watched as Patrick Pierce, who had been as stoic as a judge for the past 20 years, crumbled into unimaginable grief as they pulled Helena’s still-dead body from the tube. He relived her death all over again. But medical technology had come a long way, and we were able to save the child inside her.”
“His child?”
“Daughter. But you know her already. Kate Warner.”