Page 22 of Agent Zero
“I’d hoped we had a little more time.”Control’s sigh was audible even through the filtering.“We’re looking at a mess, Dick.”
The world rocked underneath him.Bronson’s hand fell away from his face.Sweat began at the small of his back, his underarms prickling, and he was suddenly glad this office didn’t have any windows.As it was, he already felt horribly, nastily exposed.“You mean...oh,damn.”
“There was always a chance,” Control said, pedantically.
“Fifteen percent,” Three murmured.“Mutation, that is.Communicability chance is even lower, unless?—”
“Shut up.”Bronson didn’t need to hear that.He leaned back in the chair.“Jesus Christ.”
“The Gibraltar virus mutated.The eggheads are calling the new virus version Gemini.Some of the operatives were finding nice, cozy little socks for their wieners and thinking they were in love.Apparently the girls they were boning started showing...signs, and turned up infected.Three so far, one liquidated with the operative responsible for infection, the other two—like I said, it’s amess.”
“Four percent,” Three said, softly.“Unless...”She stopped when Bronson glanced at her, but he wasn’t sure if she was obeying the unspoken order, or if something else had occurred in that computer she called a brain.
Control kept going.“They’re going off the rez all over.I was hoping you had some good news.”
“Huh.Well, we’re containing here.We have one in the wind, and are taking steps to regain contact.Eight’s back from Eastern Europe?—”
“Ukraine,” Three corrected, quietly.
Bronson’s temper almost snapped.He couldn’t yell with Control on the line, but goodGod, he was about to demote the robot-brained bitch to a secretary and be done with it.“Will youshut up?As it is, the only one who isn’t causing problems is Three, here.”And she’s beginning to get on my fucking nerves.
“Well, that’s a silver lining,” Control allowed.All things considered, he was taking events rather calmly.“I’m sending resource allowances as we speak.Get yours all kenneled, by whatever means necessary, then prep them for transport.Mama’s calling the chickens home.They’ll be reeducated, or liquidated.”
“What about the civvie doctor?”
“Disappear any civilian noise you can, fox the rest.”
Really?“They’re pulling the plug?”That loose, squirrelly feeling in his guts couldn’t be fear.It had to be the deep-fried mozzarella sticks.At least he’d given the right order when it came to Six’s little waitress.
“Not quite.We want to salvage what we can, but we need time and a little bit of quiet.”
Well, now, wasn’t that a relief.“Who’s on firewall?”
“You don’t need to know.Suffice to say our investors are chagrined, but not angry.”
“That’s...good.What about Three here?”Although Bronson couldn’t care less.It was probably time to move the nest egg offshore, and start making other plans.Serving one’s country was a fine and honorable thing, but getting cut loose and flushed wasn’t.
Control paused.Three didn’t move.Ice-cold, a woman reduced to a terminal.
“She’s the program’s greatest success so far.Keep her secured.”
“Yes, sir.”That would be easy.
Unlike the boys, she was never any trouble, except for when she startedcorrectinghim, for God’s sake.
“You’re a good man, Dick.Clean your part of this up, and certain people will be very grateful.”
“Ten-four.”My part of this?Already spreading the blame, you bastard.
Control apparently thought that was enough, because he disconnected.The screen went blank, Bronson sagged in his chair, and he suddenly wished for a bottle of vodka.A nip of something hard would go downreallywell right about now.
“Lying.”Three’s soft, uninflected verdict fell into dead, motionless air.“He’s lying.”
“Three?”He had to work not to shout.“Unless I ask you a question, you keep your damn mouthshut.”
No response.He didn’t look at her, but if he had, he might have seen a very small, very satisfied smile cross her doll-like face.It was there and gone in a moment, a flicker of emotion shocking on such a blank canvas.
“Okay,” Bronson muttered.“Okay.”All he had to do was get Six back.Four and Twelve were already onbase; it would be easy to scoop them up.Eight could be called in and that civilian bitch he was seeing tied up.All Rich Bronson really had to worry about was Six—Reese, that was his name.The civilian girl he’d been stalking was already dead, no worries there.
