Underworld by Whitley Strieber

Author:Whitley Strieber
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781429922746
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

FLYNN HAD to use every bit of self-control he possessed to avoid revealing the turmoil he was feeling. The hate was so intense that it was like an actual fire inside him. Even in the darkest hours after Abby’s disappearance, he had never felt an emotion remotely this powerful. Only one thing mattered to him now, which was to destroy the monster that was behind the wheel.

“Where are we heading?” he asked, his voice carefully modulated.

“Base,” the civilian said.

“Does it have a name?”

“No, it does not.”

“I want my weapons.”

“Flynn, relax,” the civilian said. “I’m Dexter Harmon, by the way. I know that Diana’s never mentioned me. You’re not need-to-know, and our girl follows the book.”

“Where is she?”

“On her way back to Washington.” He glanced at his watch. “Landing in forty minutes.”’

All lies. “Glad to hear it. Where are you in the chain of command, Dex?”

“You report to Diana, Diana reports to me, and I report to the president. If you don’t mind, would you call me Mr. Harmon?”

“No problem, Dex.”

He tried not to watch the back of Morris’s head. He looked younger, his black hair was now brown, but those darkly gray, empty eyes were unmistakable. No, it was Morris, no question. The disguise was a good one, though. His mind focused onto one, single thought: Kill him.

He smiled. “I’m delighted to meet you, Dex, I have to say. Let me ask you this: How do you feel about the way I kill these bastards?”

“Just kill ’em all.”

“I need to get to their leader. Handler. Whatever he is. Builder.”

“Making any progress?”

“That’s classified.”

“Everybody in this vehicle is cleared to hear anything you might say.”

“I’m on him.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to kill him. A few days.”

“Now, that is a plan. Any details?”

What was this guy, an actor? He sure as hell didn’t know how to mine a conversation for information.

“I know where he lives.”

Flynn watched a subtle signal pass between Morris and Dex.

As they drove north out of Fort Stockton, they also drove into territory that Flynn knew well. Among the things he knew was that there were no bases up here. In fact, the only place of note was a big old dance hall called the Bluebonnet Palace, about twenty miles north of here, sitting all by itself on a godforsaken crossroads. Popular, though. There would be people there.

“Where is this base, exactly? There aren’t any government facilities out this way.”

“Up toward Lubbock.”

“You understand that I’ve been very aggressively attacked from above a number of times in the past few days?”

“It’s not an issue,” Harmon said.

“How can you possibly know that? We’re in an ideal area for such an attack to take place.”

Nobody responded.

“Either you know something I don’t, or you’re taking a hell of a risk.”

“I’ve evaluated the situation, and I don’t think it’s a risk. You’re not alone, Flynn. There’s a lot of firepower in these vehicles.”

He thought about that. How ridiculous it was. He kept playing along. Before he killed Morris—and he would—he needed to find out as much as he could about his motives and his plans.

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