The Tomorrow Clone (The Tomorrow Gene Book 3) by Platt Sean & Truant Johnny B

Author:Platt, Sean & Truant, Johnny B. [Platt, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Sterling & Stone
Published: 2017-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

Whatever Clone

This time Mercer woke to the sound of commotion beyond the hotel room’s window. Great. He’d been in the middle of a dream in which Neven and the Hershel clone had been stalking him. Just before Mercer woke, Neven had pointed at him and said deadpan: There he is.

He opened his eyes, rolled over, and considered his surprisingly decent night’s sleep. He recalled two things. First, he was in danger. Fiona seemed to have believed some of his story, but not all of it. Second, he’d gotten at least a bit of reprieve. Fiona’s skepticism, if Mercer had to guess, centered on his “being Mercer Fox” and therefore always having some ulterior motive. Not unlike being Fiona Roberson.

But she must have bought the lie about his other supplier. Real Ephraim wasn’t involved, and he was an oblivious idiot — that part of Mercer’s story had to seem true, or the most important pieces would crumble. If Ephraim was involved, it meant Mercer’s entire tale was bullshit, down to his knowledge of the Quarry, or lack thereof.

Curiously, after Fiona’s chat with Wood, she hadn’t come back to liquify Mercer. The clone must have kept its shit together and convinced Fiona that it was the original Hershel. And that made sense if the Quarry had gone.

Mercer looked around. One of the two bodyguards was at the door watching him, but having a babysitter was a lot better than sleeping with a shackle on his leg. Fiona was nowhere in sight, but judging by the low talking, she was probably in the suite’s outer room with Maria and the other meathead. Apparently, this was going to work. His house of cards might stand.

Good. Because it only had to stay up a little longer. Another change in Fiona’s demeanor, apart from the decision to unshackle Mercer and stop pestering him about the fucking Quarry, had been a decision to head south in the morning, toward lower Manhattan. Why, he didn’t know. Riverbed was in SoHo. But Mercer imagined that they’d go soon, and judging by the racket outside, Jubilee was starting. Things would be crazy in hours. And then, while Fiona’s people were looking for the Ephraim clone, Mercer could slip away.

Fiona entered the room with a soft, electric purr; Maria immaculately dressed and standing beside her.

“Your ‘competitor,’” Fiona said. Two words stated as a barely implied question. But Mercer knew she was referring to the lie he’d told yesterday, about the clone dealer Eden worked with in addition to Mercer — the one who might know where the Quarry had gone.

“What about him?”

“He’s stopped broadcasting.”

“Broadcasting what?”

Fiona’s face was unreadable. Every discussion with this woman was another game of chess. It was exhausting. Right now, she was testing him. Gauging his reactions, and everything he said for truth or deception.

“The subliminal control burst signal.”

Mercer didn’t understand. He was still half-asleep. Being awoken in the middle of a dream always left him foggy, his limbs feeling like they each weighed a thousand pounds each.

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