ColdScheme by Edita Petrick Read Free Book Online

syndicate must have pulled him in.”
    I sighed. “I don’t think it’s a syndicate, Ken.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because syndicates don’t stick a bomb filled with
futuristic toxin into your chest. They will woo you, court you, promise and
deliver, the kind of lifestyle that will see you bake on a beach five times a
year. If you fall short of their lofty expectations, they would execute you but
they’ll do it with a gun, a car or toss you out of the boat in the middle of
the ocean. They don’t implant you with a state-of-the-art device that would let
you function normally for four years. Hell, I can’t think of anyone who would
waste that kind of R&D to execute an economist.”
    “Military?”
    “No.”
    “Why not? Military and explosives go hand in hand.”
    “Yes—hand in hand—not buried in the chest, Ken.”
    “Who would be so pioneering as to implant a bomb for control
into someone’s chest?”
    “A doctor.”
    He reflected on something then said, “I’ll talk to Brenda,
see what the gossip is around Johns Hopkins.”
    “Don’t go into it too deeply,” I warned.
    “What’s the worry?”
    “Brick was executed. That makes me nervous.”
    “He outlived his usefulness.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “What if it was an accident?” he suggested.
    It was possible but I felt it wasn’t it. “Patterson thought
that Patricia’s rants were just that, empty ramblings, fragmented
recollections, products of her afflicted mind. I don’t think so.”
    “Did you notice the patient who stood beside her?”
    “Yes, Ken. She reminded me of Brenda. Forget what Patterson
said. People end up in Mongrove for many reasons. Life is tough in general.
Patricia said that Brick wanted to run away. Islands. What if Brick finally
reached the point where he could no longer live in slavery to whoever it was
who stuck the bomb into his chest? What if he was at that gas station, running
away?”
    “He had spent four years, doing whatever it was they needed
him to do. All that time, he knew he was a walking ghost. He wouldn’t dare to
go far. What do you think was the radius of that device?”
    “Even if we had known everything as we exited from that
7-Eleven and rushed to search the neighborhood, I don’t think we would have
found whoever it was who had set the device off.”
    “Brick could have gone outside of the radius of control,”
Ken suggested.
    “It’s possible. He was running. That’s why he was executed.”
    “But why wait four years, Meg?”
    “Maybe it took him that long to figure out what was going
on.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He would have tried to get rid of the device. When he
realized he couldn’t, he complied, doing what they needed him to do. It saw him
live—and enjoy two months of working with Mr. Ruggiano and probably quite a few
others. But if it’s an organization, it has to have goals. This is a forceful
operation, slavery. Brick must have finally figured out where it was leading.
That’s what made him bolt.”
    “Meg, if we’re dealing with an organization, then Brick
couldn’t have been their only recruit.”
    I turned to stare at him. “You don’t think—”
    “There would have to be more operatives, recruited the same
way.”
    “God Ken, I hope you’re wrong,” I murmured.
    “Organization means structure and hierarchy—both need people
to populate it.”
    “If that’s the case, then the device Brick had in his chest
was not a prototype.”
    “You’re not suggesting mass production of these?”
    “Some products are mass produced without ever making it to
the open market.”
    “I’d like to see you suggest that to Joe,” he murmured.
“Hell, just how aggressively do these people need to launder their money?”
    “That’s a good question. Any petty criminal could have
served as a messenger and a cash flow set-up man for a place like Guilford. Why
send in an economist with a bomb in his chest?”
    “Brick was at Guilford eighteen months ago,” Ken said