Fatal Strike (McClouds & Friends #10)(35)

“How do you . . .” His voice quivered. “Who told you—”

“But the one thing I know, but you don’t, nor does Leah’s team at Good Sam, is this glitch in the database.” The low voice took on a taunting tone. “There’s a bug that lets me in to look at your wife from every angle. I’ve seen her bloodwork, the inside of her stomach, sonograms of her liver, her lungs, MRIs of her brain—”

“Shut up! You sick bastard!”

His assailant slammed the door against Hu’s shoulder with bruising strength. “Too bad, about the results of that sentinel lymph node biopsy ten days ago, huh?” he taunted. “Things look bad. Leah’s tough, though. She’ll fight the good fight—if she’s allowed to.”

Hu clenched wet, clammy hands. “What are you talking about?”

“That bug lets me change things in the system. Like that note about the genetic disorder that she inherited from her father. Malignant hypothermia, remember? I did some creative editing in the hospital database, see.”

Hu could barely speak, his voice vibrated so much. “What . . . what—”

“All records of Lea’s malignant hypothermia are gone from her chart. Poor Dr. Sereno has no idea. I fixed it days ago, see. Sereno’s all good to go with routine administration of suxamethonium. Poison, for Leah. They’ll put her under any minute. Soon, her muscles will go rigid. Her temperature will soar. Then heart attack. Circulatory collapse. And finally, death. So sad. But we all gotta die someday, right?”

Hu struggled, wildly. “What the f*ck—”

“Shhh,” the voice crooned. “They will only be able to administer an antidote if you are in a position to call them and warn them in time.”

Hu could barely get the words out, his voice shook so hard. “What d-do you w-want from me?”

His assailant dragged his head back, until he could see the hideously white teeth grinning through the mouth hole of the ski mask.

“We make a deal,” the dark figue said. “Your wife . . . for Lara Kirk.”





Mean, mean motherf*cker. Miles had tangled with more than his fair share of them. He had the vibe nailed. Now he just had to ooze it, like slime. A tall order, after that claustophobic ten minutes spent huddled in the trunk of the Accura. Utter blackness, mitigated only by the hole made by the shoved down central seat console. He was thankful to whoever decided that car trunks should open from the inside. And thankful, too, for the fact that there appeared to be no security cameras mounted in here. At least none that he could see.

Miles glared at the guy through the ski mask. Mean as a snake. The vibe seemed to be working. Hu’s eyes darted, frantic and terrified.

“What do you want with Lara Kirk?” Hu quavered.

“Focus on Leah,” Miles said. “Tick tock, tick tock. Take me to her, Hu. Right now.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hu burst out. “You’re bluffing.”

Miles shrugged. “You can bet that way if you want.”

“I can’t,” Hu whined. “You’re just going to have to kill me.”

“I’m fine with that. I’ll still find Lara, but Leah will die, because you’re a f*cking coward and a loser. But hey, she knows that already. What did she say when you ran out on her? Was she nice? Did she, you know . . . understand?”

Hu’s body arched convulsively against his. “Shut up! You *!”

“Leah’s going to die today,” Miles said. “Or not. Up to you.”

“I can’t do what you’re asking. They’d kill me!”

“Your problem, not mine. It’s the company you keep, man. Chances are you’d get a call in to Good Sam before they slit your throat, to give them a heads-up. One last good deed for the woman you love.”

Hu’s forehead shone. Miles pulled out his cell, and began texting, without moving his gun hand.

inside compound with hu.

“Who are you texting?” Hu’s voice had a hysterical edge.

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about,” Miles said.

The phone burped softly. Con’s reply. u crazy bastard

“Who is that?” Hu shrieked.

“That’s my contact at Good Sam,” Miles said. “Bonelli and Singh just walked by in their scrubs, all coffeed up. So, Jason. Is the fence electrified?”

Hu’s mouth worked for a moment. “Ah, yes.”

“Infrared, motion sensors?”

“Just infrared.”

“Where is the control center?” Hu did not respond.

Miles jerked him out from behind the door and jammed the gun up against the guy’s groin. “Maybe you haven’t grasped how committed I am to hurting you, assbag. I’m turning your genitals into pink paste right . . . about . . . now.”

“No! Stop! They’ll hear you, and they’ll kill you!”

“I don’t give a f*ck. On three. You ready? One . . . two . . .”

“Security is on the ground floor! Entrance on the left side!”

“That’s better,” Miles said. “How many on security staff? How many people in total?”

Hu’s throat bobbed. “Three at the gate,” he said, sullenly. “Three inside. Ten more on staff. Counting me.”