CHAPTER 33

SIMON AND DAVID couldn’t see each other, or anything else. The interior of the van was completely dark and sealed off from the driver’s cabin.

Somehow it made it easier to talk, without having to look at Simon’s face.

“You seem pretty calm,” David said. “Is this where the Illuminati come bursting in to save you?”

“Illuminati?” He laughed. “A wet dream for those who cannot take responsibility for their own actions. I’ve been to the Bilderberg conference, sat on the Council on Foreign Relations and the Trilateral Commission, and spent a weekend at the Bohemian Grove. They’re all the same. Very rich and important ­people suffering under the illusion that they know how things work, who are just as surprised by what’s on the news as everyone else. Believe me. If there were any secret masters of the world, I’d have met them by now.”

“Maybe you just don’t meet their standards. I certainly expected more. Five hundred years old and you’re in the back of a van with a mere mortal like me.”

Simon laughed again. He seemed relaxed, even happy. He spoke as if it were a relief to finally drop the many masks and disguises, as if he’d been suffocating underneath all of their layers.

“Oh, David. You’re so young. It took me almost a century to see it myself. Humans are herd animals. They are slow, but they move like glaciers across continents, inevitable and unstoppable. All I’ve ever tried to do is steer them. And even unlimited wealth and endless life are small tools against the shortsightedness and greed of millions of your kind. It’s like reincarnation. Which is an utter fantasy, by the way. I’ve lived a very long time and never met anyone twice. But I’m sure you’ve noticed that everyone who believes in it always claims they were royalty or a hero or nobility in a past life. No one wants to be a peasant. The fact is, the world has always been too big for one ruler. Most of the time, history is just a thing that happens to ­people. We have worked hard to make a difference, but there were only eight of us. Our time and resources were limited, compared to the task at hand. We couldn’t be everywhere at once. And we made mistakes. Do you have any idea how long I spent winning the loyalty of the king of Belgium? I wish there was a way to control every variable, to run the whole world from behind the scenes, to make it as simple as the conspiracy theorists say.”

“Yeah,” David said, voice dripping with contempt, “it’s a damn shame, all those ­people living their lives without your permission.”

Suddenly Simon’s good humor dropped. “My way is better,” Simon hissed. “Look at how you ­people behave if left to your own devices. You don’t even have to pick a genocide. They are all depressingly similar. Instead, just watch a single man in a car on the freeway when he suddenly realizes he’s got to make an exit. He will cross five lanes without looking, endanger dozens of lives, maybe even cause a massive pileup that backs up traffic for a day—­all because he can’t possibly wait for the next stop on the road. Literally billions of dollars have gone into making cars safer, to designing airbags and crash safety, and improving roads to funnel ­people where they need to go. And one man can destroy all that in a split second of stupidity and selfishness.”

“And what have you done? From what Shako tells me, you’ve started enough wars and genocides to qualify as a horseman of the Apocalypse yourself. Five hundred years of corpses. You want to take credit for that?”

“You have no idea.”

“I’ve seen enough.”

“You have no idea,” Simon said again, “what the world was before you were in it. You still weep for your sister? When I was born, nearly half of all children died before they were five years old. Just having a baby could be a death sentence for women. ­People poured their shit in the river and then drank the water. They starved when the winter was bad or when the summer was too hot, and every few years, some plague or another would rip through them and the corpses would pile dozens high in the street.

“And you have the nerve to complain? You soft, overfed toddler. You grew up on land that was paid for with the blood of millions. You think the natives just walked away from it? They had to be forced at gunpoint. I know. I held the guns. Your buildings, your institutions, your colleges and universities were built with dollars from slavery. Your country grew fat and happy while millions of men, women, and children were bought and sold like cattle. The bloodstains are so deep in the fabric of your nation you don’t even see them anymore. All you get is the reward: a limitless future, a vast nation, unlimited possibilities, from sea to shining sea.”

David felt as though he had to speak up for himself. “I didn’t do any of that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Simon shot back. “I did it for you. Me and everyone like me. We did the hard things. We did the vicious things. We did it for the future. You want to blame me for the way the world is now? I will take it. I admit it is not what I had planned. But I will take credit for every forward step, every small, bloody inch of progress, because I had to claw each one with my fingernails.”

“You’ve killed thousands of ­people.”

“Oh, more than that,” Simon said. “Many more. I have slaughtered my way across continents and built machines of death and paid politicians to wage wars. But every time, I did so knowing that there was something better that could come out of the bloodshed. For every corpse on my conscience, I’ve saved a thousand lives. The world is better now than it once was. And I will take credit for that.”

David was silent for a moment. “And yet Shako still wants to kill you. I guess she just can’t see the bigger picture the way you can.”

“You don’t understand us,” Simon said. “Our first lives were like our childhoods. Everything was so vivid and new. We didn’t know how long our lives would be. So of course we carry the wounds and scars deeply. The same way you still probably tear up at the thought of your first puppy. The same way she and I still love each other.”

David laughed out loud at that. “You think she loves you?”

“I know she does.”

“That’s funny. Because when we were in bed together—­”

Something like a growl escaped Simon’s throat. “Be very careful, David.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize how sensitive you are. When we were in bed together, fucking—­ Too offensive? Want me to stop now?”

No response.

“Shako never mentioned loving you. Lots of talk about killing you. But nothing about love.”

“You still don’t understand. You’re a pet to her. At best. A toy.”

“Maybe so,” David admitted. “I’m smart enough to admit that, even if it stings. But at least I don’t fool myself into thinking I’m a god.”

Simon laughed bitterly. “There is no God. But if there were, I’d be far closer to him than to you. After all, I changed your life.”

“Because you gave me a job?”

“Because I killed your parents.”

David went silent in the dark.

“All your pillow talk, and Shako didn’t tell you that? I’m surprised.”

“She told me,” David said quietly.

“I see. You didn’t believe her. Well. I can’t blame you. She’d already told you so many lies. How are you supposed to know what to believe? If it gives you any comfort, it wasn’t anything I enjoyed. It was another sacrifice. Your father was a brilliant man, David. Truly. But he was as limited in his morality as you are. He couldn’t see the greater good.”

“Simon,” David said, “go fuck yourself.”

Simon sighed heavily. “You see? You’re simply reacting on a genetic level. Responding to the loss of your parents, your sister. A slave to your instincts to protect the animals that have the closest similarity to you. This is why we do not have children. As soon as you are tied to their future, rather than your own, you are lost. You become part of the herd. The world cannot survive such sentimentality. That is what separates me from you, and all those like you. I can see the end. The rest of you are fatally distracted.”

“You’re right,” David said.

Surprise filled Simon’s voice. “I am?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure if Shako was telling me the truth. Now I know. And you’re still utterly full of shit. Five hundred years and what have you really done? You might think you’re not a part of the herd, but you’re just as selfish and shortsighted. Look at everything you could have done better. You could have cured any disease. You could have revealed the Water to the world years ago, made it into an international resource. You could have fed the starving and housed the poor. You could have taken your wealth and built cities on the moon, for Christ’s sake. You could have been walking among the stars by now. You could have done anything.”

Simon snorted. “You think the world works like that. You’re not so bright after all.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I know you’ve had five hundred years, and all you’ve done is live the same pointless, stupid life over and over again. You’ve fought the same petty little squabbles, trying desperately to hang on to something you stole in the first place. All because you’re too frightened to face the truth. Everybody dies sooner or later, Simon. With or without the Water. Everybody dies. And so will you.”

“Is that your idea of a threat?”

“No. It’s a fact. You’ve lived a long time, but it’s going to end soon. I’m going to kill you. Count on it.”

Simon sat with that for a long time. David thought perhaps the other man was finished talking. Then Simon spoke up again.

“You’re right, David. Everyone dies,” Simon said. “But I’m willing to bet I’ll outlive you.”

The van came to a halt. They had arrived.

THEY TOOK THE TOP three floors of the casino’s hotel. They put it all on Simon’s AmEx Black, which Aznar found hugely amusing.

They explained to the hotel management that this was all for a top-­secret visit by a celebrity, very hush-­hush, someone you’d definitely recognize, but please, keep it to yourself.

The Council now milled around in one of the top-­floor conference rooms.

David was downstairs in one of the hotel rooms, but Simon sat in a chair at the back of the room, hands cuffed.

“I’m not sure why I’m here,” he said, when Aznar came close. “If you’re looking for a consultant for your plan, I don’t think you can afford my fees.”

Aznar turned and slapped him.

“Shut up,” he said. “You’re only here because Max insists. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hurt you.”

“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

Aznar leaned in close, with a smile that reached all the way to his eyes. He looked around to make sure no one else was listening.

“Because I want you to see how easily I can accomplish everything you’ve always failed to do, of course,” he said. “In less than a week, I will secure the Council’s future, eliminate its greatest enemy, and solve the problem of the Water. Then I’ll kill you. I should have thought that was obvious.”

Simon considered that. “I never liked you, Juan.”

“The feeling is mutual, Simon.”

“Can we please discuss Shako now?” Max asked, calling Aznar away from his fun.

She was still in the back of one of the vans. Max wanted to interrogate her immediately and force the location of her supply of the Water from her.

It was Aznar, surprisingly, who objected.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I’m happy to torture her. I will gladly begin slicing strips from her skin if you want. It just won’t do any good.”

Max didn’t believe it. “Surely you have more faith in your own skills.”

Aznar rolled his eyes. “I’ve been fighting her, harder and closer, than you or Simon ever have. In Kosovo, I saw her pull a chunk of shrapnel out of her own abdomen and use it as a knife. I hate her more than you can understand, Max, but I know exactly what she is capable of. She will resist. We could remove her spleen and show it to her, and she would still resist. It’s who she is.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Keep her alone. Do not allow any of the men near her. Not even within arm’s length, even to feed her. Lock her in a cage and keep a gun on her at all times. Any one of our men who tries to touch her will die, and she will use the opportunity to escape. You know it’s true.”

“Oh, come now,” Max said. “She’s not a wild animal. She’s still no more than we are.”

“Really? Have you not spent the last five centuries hiding from her? Was that just me, then?”

Max made a face, but Aznar could tell: he’d won the argument.

“What if she doesn’t have any more?” Peter asked. “What if it turns out Shako has run just as dry as we have?”

“Then we have David,” Max answered. “And he will give us whatever we want to avoid anyone else getting hurt.”

“Or maybe you’ll just kill us and take what’s left for yourself,” Sebastian snapped. He’d been angry since Aznar had killed Carlos.

“Carlos forgot his place,” Aznar reminded him. “Don’t forget yours, and you’ll be fine.”

Peter hoisted the briefcase they’d taken from David at the airport. “Why don’t we just take our medicine now? Then we don’t have anything to worry about.”

“You trust Robinton that much?”

“He didn’t know Carlos would deliver him to us. You saw the look on his face.”

“He’s not an idiot. Maybe he planned for this. Maybe there’s some kind of poison,” Aznar said. “It’s what I would have done.”

They all thought about that for a moment.

“Bring him in,” Aznar said to one of his men. “There’s one way to know for sure.”

“And what about Shako?”

Aznar already had the answer in mind. “She said she was willing to see her ­people die again,” he said. “So let’s call her bluff. Let’s show it to her.”

THEY RELEASED DAVID FROM his cuffs.

Shako watched from a chair. She had come quietly from the parking garage with three of Carlos’s men. It made Max nervous, but all three men were already standing next to her with guns, so he didn’t know what else to do about it.

Aznar had the briefcase open on the long table and the injection guns out.

He summoned David over to the table.

“We’re anxious to try your miracle cure, Dr. Robinton,” Aznar said.

David stared him down. “You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t need my permission.”

“Well, this is our problem. We’re not sure that it’s entirely safe. We suspect you might have done something that could actually harm us rather than help us.”

“That’s not very trusting of you.”

Aznar smiled. “We live in cynical times.”

“So what? You want a guarantee?”

Aznar took one of the injectors from its foam cradle. “I want you to try it first.”

David didn’t say anything. He took the gun, popped the cap off, and shot himself in the arm without hesitating.

He handed the gun back to Aznar. “Feel better now?”

The others waited. Nothing happened.

One by one, the Council took the guns from the table and injected themselves.

They waited again.

“It doesn’t feel like the Water,” Aznar said, smacking his lips, as if trying to rid himself of the aftertaste.

“Simon said it would be different.”

“I told you, Max,” Simon said, from his chair at the back. “It’s not the same thing.”

“That’s true,” David said. “I couldn’t duplicate it exactly. But it works. Aznar should be able to tell you. He saw the girl I gave the first dose.”

Aznar nodded. “I did. She was recovered. Healthy.”

Another moment passed.

“I’m feeling a bit parched,” Simon said from his chair. “And I notice there’s one dose left.”

“No, Simon,” Aznar said. “Let’s see you get old and gray for a change. See how you enjoy it.”

He took a step closer to Shako but still kept a respectful distance.

“Pay attention now,” he said. “This next part is especially for you.”

THEY GATHERED ALL THEIR hired guns, Carlos’s ­people and Conquest’s. Altogether, they had fifteen men.

Simon and David and Shako were at the back of the room, uncomfortably close, their hands all tied. Shako had David’s cuffs around her ankles now as well. David was tied with a set of plastic zip-­cuffs.

They waited. They had no choice.

Aznar stood at the front of the room and addressed his men like a general.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Five miles down the road from this casino is a small town called Cypress Grove. We are going to kill every man, woman, and child who lives there.”

The men Conquest had hired looked around, as if to see if someone was filming this for some obscene joke. Carlos’s men did not move. It was not the worst thing they had ever been asked to do.

No one objected.

“We will take out the cell-­phone towers first, then the phone lines coming out of the town. You’ll all be given maps. We will begin at the police station. There shouldn’t be much of a problem after that. This is Florida, however. Most of the homes will have at least one gun. But they won’t be ready for us. No one is ready for something like this.”

He looked at the back of the room.

“Do you hear me, Shako? Do you understand? We are going to kill them all. Just like we did before. Unless you cooperate. Unless you tell me where I can find the rest of your Water.”

She said nothing.

“You’re a cruel woman, Shako,” Aznar said. “I wonder how many ­people will have to die before we can soften that hard heart of yours. Perhaps we will start at the elementary school.”

There was a knock at the door. Aznar looked annoyed. He’d just been warming up.

One of Carlos’s men cracked open the door. A young man wearing the uniform of a hotel waiter stood there.

“The management wanted to know if you would like some complimentary champagne.”

Then his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the room. “Whoa. That is a serious number of guns, man.”

“Bring him inside,” Aznar barked.

The sicario yanked the boy into the room and shoved him to the carpet, Uzi barrel nudged close to the back of his neck.

Shako sat perfectly still.

Aznar’s eyes flashed at her. He crossed the room to the boy. The kid could not have been much more than nineteen, built like a jock but still baby-­faced. He was Seminole, his smooth skin a darker version of Shako’s own.

Aznar waved away the gunman and brought out his own weapon. He pointed it at the boy’s head. “Tell me, young man. Do you live in Cypress Grove?”

The kid looked up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Simple question. You work here part-­time? Is this how you make a little extra money after school? Serving drinks to drunken palefaces as they gamble away their Social Security?”

“Yeah,” the kid said. “I mean, yeah, I’m from Cypress Grove.”

Aznar beamed. “Well, then. I think we can begin. What do you say, Shako? Are you willing to save him? Tell us where to find the Water now, and you stop it all.”

Her voice was ice cold. “You won’t spare him. Not even if I tell you.”

Aznar shrugged. “Then it looks like we’ve found our first victim.” He aimed the gun.

The boy began to yell. “No, no, no, man,” the kid said. “I’m not!”

Aznar lifted the gun, amused. “No? You’re not? This isn’t really up for debate, son.”

Then the fear seemed to drop away from the kid. He actually smiled.

“No,” he said. “I’m not that. I’m the distraction.”

There was just enough time for a ripple of unease to spread through the room.

Then everything exploded.

THEY WERE UP ABOVE the ceiling. They were all Seminole.

They dropped straight through the tiles, moving incredibly, impossibly fast.

They fell among the gunmen and started laying waste to every body within reach.

They were unarmed, for the most part. The oldest of them was the same age as the waiter. They were kids. Teenagers going up against a roomful of hardened killers.

It was no contest.

One boy punched a sicario in the throat, turned and snapped the neck of the man next to him. A Conquest thug aimed his gun at the boy and immediately had it taken away, his arm folded back and broken by a girl half his age. Another young man faced off against an experienced Colombian enforcer and knocked the man across the room with a front kick, breaking his spine.

Aznar screamed in rage. He aimed and pulled the trigger of his hand cannon. He blew a chunk out of the wall.

The waiter leaped up to face him. Aznar was fast enough to bring the gun around and pistol-­whip the boy across the face.

Then Shako stood and, with a sudden, unbelievable strength, snapped the chains of her cuffs.

Aznar looked as if he couldn’t believe it. He brought his gun up to aim it at her. But she was no longer where he was aiming. Instead she was coming up on his side, moving too fast.

She leaped and brought her heel against the side of his head.

There was a sickening crunch.

Aznar’s mouth was still wide open, even though he didn’t make a sound. The gun dropped from his hand.

He seemed to fall in slow motion.

Shako landed and then leaped again. She came down on his neck.

Even with the gunfire, the slick pop-­and-­crack could be heard through the room.

Aznar lay on the floor, his head now at an unnatural angle to his body.

Then it was over.

Aznar looked up, mouth working but making no noise, as Shako towered over him.

“No,” he said. “Not like this.”

“Were you expecting more?” Shako asked him as the light began to dim in his eyes. “Your mistake. You always thought you mattered more than you did. But you were not my greatest enemy. You were a cockroach. Hard to kill, but in the end, just another insect. There is no clash of champions. There is no final battle. There is just you, dying, alone.”

Aznar began to choke. Shako made a face and stepped on his throat.

A moment later, there was nothing but silence.

Simon and David were still seated, slightly in shock, mere witnesses to all the carnage that had been delivered with such precision.

The men of the Council were all surrounded by at least three of the Seminole youths. They were kids. But they moved with superhuman grace and power.

Simon recognized it at last. They had all drunk the Water.

Shako pointed at David.

“Cut him loose,” she said.

“Yes, Cvcke,” one of the boys said, and went to David with his knife to cut his hands free from the zip-­cuffs.

Simon recognized the word. It was different from the Uzita language, altered by centuries and different tribes, but still had the same root.

“Cvcke?” he said. “Why would they call you Mother?”

Shako said nothing.

David stood up, looking weak and unsettled. Simon wondered if he’d been hurt, but there were no visible wounds.

He’d figured it out first.

“Because she is their mother, Simon,” David said. “She’s the mother to all of them.”