CHAPTER 42

           A civilization is viable so long as there is trust between the people and the government.

        —LANCASTER R. HILL, A Secret Worth Keeping, SAWYER RIVER BOOKS, 1941, P. II

Alexander Burke loved stalking his prey even more than he loved killing them.

When on a job, he frequently envisioned himself as a tiger, padding through the brush on huge, soundless paws, getting closer by the second to administering violent death … and closer.

He had come to Arbor General Hospital prepared for a long surveillance, having brought a knapsack of energy bars and water in addition to night glasses and binoculars. As it turned out, he didn’t even need the night glasses. Now, lowering his binoculars, he wished he had bought a laser microphone so he could have listened in on the conversation between his former cohort Tim Vaill and the man that photos told him was Dr. Lou Welcome—the prey he was actually stalking.

He’d been watching the parking lot and main entrance to Arbor General from a perfect vantage point on a hill overlooking the main lot. The full resources of One Hundred Neighbors were working nonstop to locate Welcome’s hotel room in Atlanta. But Burke was certain the hospital was the most likely bet, so he had taken that watch himself.

It had required more work on Humphrey Miller’s fingers, but eventually the pathetic cripple had given up additional and useful details, including the existence of a secret lab in the hospital subbasement, and the name of Welcome’s hospitalized friend, Hank Duncan. Duncan was in bad shape and was being cared for in some kind of unit. If Welcome and Duncan were as close as Miller had said, odds favored Welcome would be visiting soon—and those odds had been on the money.

The tiger had no trouble spotting the two FBI agents as they headed for the lobby entrance. He identified Vaill right away. He’d never forget the face of the only man he had ever failed to kill. But it took a moment to realize the agent with him, also wearing shades, an FBI Windbreaker, and hat, was Dr. Lou Welcome. Clearly, they were wary.

The doctor wasn’t the only one to have altered his appearance. Because he was now one of the FBI’s ten most wanted—number one, actually—Burke had applied a fake beard to minimize the shape of his jawline, and heightened the contours of his face with makeup that added years to his age. He also traveled with a number of different disguises, and his current choice—a brown wig, brown contacts, and a latex covering that altered the shape of his nose—fooled the FBI agents who had swarmed Arbor General several hours before. He had even followed two of them down the stairs to the subbasement, although he refrained from getting any closer to the lab that Welcome must have told them about.

Seeing Vaill and Welcome together put a new wrinkle into Burke’s plans. He wanted to learn more about Welcome’s relationship with the FBI. Did they know each other from before? Why did they seem so close? Had Vaill gone rogue? Was that why he snuck Lou into Arbor dressed as an agent? If so, to what end? For now, their unusual association would be information to report back to Bacon and nothing more. He doubted this unexpected development would compromise his mission, but if Bacon gave the kill order, the tiger would gladly eliminate them both. Even though he actually liked Tim Vaill, there was no real emotion involved, one way or the other.

It was different for the woman, Cassie, whom he had taken out on the way to Miller. She was an anathema, a representation of the wasted entitlement spending the Neighbors had vowed to eliminate. He would have killed the freeloading Miller, too, as retribution for all money stolen by the government from those who had earned it to fund the broken man’s so-called entitlements. But his mission called for a different course of action.

When Vaill and Welcome finally drove away, Burke was just a few car lengths behind, countering every one of Vaill’s evasive maneuvers with one of his own. The streets here were fairly wide and traffic lights lasted longer than most, making it easy to maintain his tail. Burke had sped up anticipating and avoiding a yellow light, when his phone buzzed. Bacon.

“I’ve got a visual on Lou Welcome right now,” Burke said.

“And hello to you, too,” Bacon replied in a cool tone.

Burke often forgot Bacon was a Southern gentleman who, even at the oddest times, demanded civility and proper etiquette.

“Hello, Thirty-eight,” Burke said, correcting himself. “I’m on to Welcome.”

“Well, I was calling to tell you that we’ve found his hotel room. He’s staying at the Miralux Towers on Grand Street, room six-seventy-five.”

Burke keyed the address into his GPS, careful not to lose visual contact with Vaill.

“My GPS says they’re headed in that direction right now.”

“Good. I trust you’ll be able to resolve this matter fully.”

In Bacon-speak that was his way of ordering termination.

“First I’ll get the book Miller said he gave Welcome. One interesting thing—he showed up at the hospital with Tim Vaill.”

There was a pause.

“Why have those two come together?”

“I don’t know. Vaill gave Welcome an FBI Windbreaker to wear into the hospital. There’s got to be a reason.”

“Your call there,” Bacon said.

Burke knew it was Thirty-eight’s way of saying it was up to Burke’s discretion to let Vaill live or die.

“Understood. Is Miller safely there?”

“Yes. Nice job. The Gulfstream touched down a few hours ago and we transported Humphrey to Red Cliff by van. Of course, he’d be more useful to us with his data, but you’re about to make that happen. This is a vital part of our mission now, Forty-five. You have a substantial role to play, and I trust when we are victorious, and Western society is changed forever, history will shower you with the accolades you deserve.”

“I’m proud to do my part.”

Burke pulled to within three car lengths of Vaill’s sedan. Vaill was good at evasion, but the tiger, driving a burgundy Buick LaCrosse, was able to predict his moves. Even if he lost them, the turns Vaill was taking had him headed directly toward Grand Street. Miller’s book and Welcome’s life—one-stop shopping. The decision regarding Vaill could wait.

As expected, fifteen minutes later, Vaill stopped in the drive of the Miralux and remained in the car, engine running, as Welcome hurried past the uniformed doorman and into the modest, family-type hotel. Five minutes later, Vaill took a call on his cell, spoke for a couple of minutes, then drove away. Obviously, Welcome was safely inside his room.

Time to make the doughnuts.

Keeping the weapon in his lap, Burke mounted his Gemtech suppressor to the barrel of the SIG Sauer 9mm MK25—the preferred weapon of the Navy SEALs. Then he slipped the exquisite gun inside his gym bag. Finally, he worked his trusty Strider SJ75 folding knife into his back pocket and exited the Buick. The knife was lightweight and the thin profile made it easy to forget it was even there.

If possible, he would kill Welcome with the Strider. It was a powerful weapon, great for the quick draw. However, if it was more practical, the suppressor would take care of matters well enough.

Either way, Dr. Lou Welcome had just minutes to live.