Though he was forced to alter his schedule somewhat, from his suite at UCSF Med Center, John Darsie still found a way to conduct business. In the early morning, Wyatt slipped in and found the billionaire propped in his hospital bed with a fresh glass of tomato juice, sliced San Francisco sourdough, and a copy of the Times.
“Not a bad setup,” Wyatt said, pulling up a chair.
“Suppose it helps to rent out the entire floor.” Darsie folded the newspaper in his lap.
“How do you feel?”
“Never better.” Darsie motioned to his heavily bandaged torso and smiled. His face, though cut and bruised, was clean shaven and smelled of a light cologne. “Didn’t turn out as we predicted, did it?”
Wyatt looked out past white orchids lining the windows that let in the bright morning sun. “No.”
Darsie sighed. “Red Trident is still swarming with feds. They confiscated all of Morgan’s files, all of his work.”
“I figured.”
“Just too bad they didn’t get there first.” Darsie grinned mischievously.
“Wait, you didn’t take any of it … did you?”
“Of course I did. And let me tell you, that boy was more of a genius than I ever gave him credit for. What he was doing with facial-recognition software … it’s unprecedented.”
“Jeez, Darsie.”
“Yes, well, what’s done is done. And I don’t suppose I need to ask why you’re here. I made you a promise, and you want me to make good on it.”
“Yes,” Wyatt said eagerly.
“I’m not one to moralize … but are you really sure you want to take this step?”
“What step?” Wyatt asked, confused.
“I’m not going to mince words, Wyatt. But to me it looks like you are hell-bent on finding Hallsy and killing him. Is a revenge killing really what you want to do with your life?”
“Hallsy’s a rogue agent. He’s dangerous and he needs to be brought to justice. What do you think I should do … become like you … a privateer? No, thanks.”
“Very well. But from an objective perspective, the odds are you’ll not gain what you seek.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
“There are two types of men in this world, Wyatt—ones who live for themselves. They see the best path and they take it. They do a lot of good, yes, but only if it is a by-product of serving themselves.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “And the other?”
“Like your father. The kind who must live for a cause. A group. Whose relentless altruism grows like kudzu in the summertime.” Darsie smiled. “The more you chop it, the more it persists. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you which kind I am … but perhaps my one redemptive quality is that I am able to admit it.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Or you could change it.”
“At my age, not likely. But you still have some time.” He took a notepad from the table and scribbled something down. “Here you go.”
“No dissolving paper this time?” Wyatt said sarcastically as he took the note.
“Fresh out. So those are the coordinates, but I’m not sure how much it will help.”
Wyatt’s eyes lit up. “You found him?”
“Hallsy is currently hiding out in one of Rio’s most dangerous favelas. The U.S. military cannot operate without clearance, and Hallsy has paid hundreds of local mafia handsomely for his protection. In short, they are the hive, and he is their queen. So yes, I found him, but I’m not sure what you’re going to do about it.”
“I have an idea,” Wyatt said. “Just need one more favor from you.”
“Which is?”
“I need to borrow some technology.”