Biowar by Stephen Coonts Read Free Book Online Page B

to argue, but instead she reached out and gently squeezed his arm. “We should discuss it further.”
    “I don’t know if that would be useful,” he said.
    “Useful?” She tilted her head back ever so slightly. “Pleasurable at least.”
    Is she trying to seduce me? wondered Rubens.
    “Perhaps over lunch?” she added.
    “My lunches are generally not my own.”
    “Well, neither are mine,” she said. “But are you going to the benefit for the Kennedy Center Thursday?”
    She was trying to seduce him.
    Hardly. Her purposes were surely political.
    On the other hand ...
    “As a matter of fact, I am going to the benefit,” said Rubens, knowing he could call on one of his many relatives for a ticket. “Yourself?”
    “Yes. Perhaps we can talk then.”
    “I’ll see you there.”
    “Maybe something to eat afterward?”
    “Perhaps.”
    “I’ll look forward to it,” she said.

8

    Karr had seen bus stations bigger than the airport he landed in at Newburgh, New York. But that made it easier to spot the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation agent waiting to meet him.
    “Hey.” Karr pointed at the detective as he approached, his voice booming in the low-ceilinged room. “I know you, right?”
    Achilles Gorman stopped a second, temporarily puzzled. The NSA agent threw his arm around him without breaking stride, leading him toward the door.
    “I’m Tommy. Whole name’s too long to worry about. Let’s hit the road.”
    “You’re here from Washington?”
    “That’s what the sign at the airport said.”
    “You’re NSA?”
    “Say that out loud again and I’ll have to kill you.”
    The doors snapped open and the two men headed across the parking lot to a green Impala. The double antennae and grille lights made the unmarked car so obvious Karr wondered why they bothered. The Deep Black op paused next to the car, stretching his arms back as if he were stiff but actually taking the opportunity to make sure they weren’t being followed. Karr got in the car and pushed the seat back as far it would go, his legs still bumping against the dashboard.
    “I’m sorry about inside,” said Gorman. “My boss said you were NSA and he didn’t make it sound like—”
    Karr laughed. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I’m just busting your chops. I’m working for CDC as kind of a loaner on this. Communicable diseases—because the guy who’s missing is a disease expert. Germs. They told you all this stuff, right?”
    Gorman nodded grimly.
    “You all right?” Karr asked.
    “Stomach’s giving me trouble.”
    Gorman was silent until they found the Thruway, which took about five minutes.
    “I didn’t recognize you at the airport,” said Gorman. “I expected someone in a suit.”
    “Hey, these are my best jeans,” said Karr, who hadn’t worn a suit since giving up the black one he’d worn, briefly, as a member of the NSA security force. “You named after the heel or the hero?”
    Gorman looked at him with the pained expression of a man who had wandered into an insane asylum and couldn’t find the exit.
    “So tell me about Kegan,” Karr said.
    “We’re looking for him,” said Gorman. “I was hoping you’d tell me about him.”
    “All I know is he likes bugs.” Karr laughed, but the BCI investigator didn’t. “You think he killed the guy you found?”
    “He’s the number-one suspect,” said Gorman.
    “You find a murder weapon?”
    “No.”
    “ID the victim?”
    “No.”
    “Motive?”
    “Unknown.”
    “Not much of a case.”
    “No kidding.”
    Karr had spent part of the flight north reading the preliminary reports on the investigation, as well as news reports and some background on Kegan and the investigators themselves. The state police’s Bureau of Criminal Investigation handled homicides in most jurisdictions outside of cities north of New York; they had a decent track record in closing up homicides, but this didn’t look like it was going to be closed anytime soon.
    The victim’s identity