F Paul Wilson - Sims 05 by Thy Brother's Keeper (v5.0) Read Free Book Online Page A

version of whatever really happened, blaming it on a guy in a ski
mask or some such shit. When it was over Luca broke the connection and sat with
his forehead resting on the steering wheel. For the first time in his adult
life, Luca Portero wanted to cry.

           9
     
                 NEWARK , NJ
                 DECEMBER
23
                 “All
right,” Zero said, peering through the pre-dawn light at the McDonald’s four
blocks ahead. “Let’s stop here.”
                 He
sat with Tome and Kek in the rear of the van. Patrick had the wheel as usual,
Romy at his side.
                 Zero
yawned. Tired. They all were tired. And they should
be. A long night that he, Romy, and Patrick had spent
spray-painting the van. He’d had no way of finding a new one on such
short notice, so now the old one sported a glossy black coat and New Jersey
tags he’d picked from a pile of old plates he’d found in a Staten Island
junkyard.
                 He
glanced at his watch: 6:45A .M. and still no sun. Not due to rise for another
half hour. Newark hadn’t risen yet
either, most of it still asleep on this cold Sunday morning. He’d wrestled all
night with the timing of his approach to Meerm. Assuming he could find her, it
would be safer for all concerned to make contact under cover of darkness. But
he was sure Meerm would be frightened of anyone she couldn’t see. That
necessitated a daylight approach, multiplying the risks of being spotted.
                 He
stared at the McDonald’s, Beece’s key landmark. He’d told Tome he’d been able
to see its golden arches over a fence near Meerm’s hiding place. Beece had made
no mention of crossing the avenue, which meant Meerm was hiding someplace
behind the McDonald’s.
                 A
detailed aerial reconnaissance photo would have told him all he needed to know,
but since he didn’t have one of those, he’d have to proceed by trial and error.
                 “Okay,”
he told Patrick. “Let’s make this first right up here and see if you can
position us a couple of blocks behind the McDonald’s. We’ll work our way back
toward it from there.”
                 “Gotcha,”
Patrick said, and put the van in gear.
                 “Everyone
keep an eye out for Portero’s people.”
                 “If
you see a green Taurus,” Romy said, grinning at Zero over her shoulder, “it
won’t be them.”
                 Patrick
laughed. “Right! I’ll bet it’ll be next week before
anyone can see through that windshield again.”
                 Zero
grinned beneath his ski mask. Fortunately no shots had been traded. Romy’s
pistol last night had unsettled him. Their pursuers undoubtedly had seen Tome
get into the van—why else would they have followed?—and so Zero guessed they’d
want the sim alive as a lead to Meerm. He’d figured—hoped was more like it—that
they wouldn’t fire unless fired upon. He was glad he’d brought along some
alternative weaponry.
                 However,
if they ran into any of Portero’s men today, they’d be edgy, might shoot first
and worry later about who they hit. That was why he’d brought Kek along. He
glanced back at the gorilla-mandrill hybrid crouched by the rear door. He wore
black coveralls cinched with the belt that held his Special Forces knife. His
snout was a cool blue and he seemed relaxed, but Zero knew if provoked he could
explode into violence in the blink of an eye.
                 As
Zero turned forward again, he caught Romy staring at him, her eyes almost
luminous in the dimness. She’d been doing that a lot since their time together
in the rear of the van last night. He sensed it was more than combat bonding, feared it might be infatuation. That sort of
look from Romy should have made him giddy, but instead it weighed on Zero. A
look was the