Synbat

Chapter 20

"Anything?" Merrit asked.

"Nothing," Riley replied as he slid his 9mm pistol in the shoulder holster under his denim jacket.

"What's the plan for today?"

Riley pointed to the desk where Lewis was sitting, going through the reports gleaned from all sources. "We're going to the area where the Synbats left the rig and start searching outward, checking all the abandoned buildings. It's a shot in the dark, but it beats sitting here all day."

Merrit looked over at Riley's men, who were eating fast food brought in by one of the DIA agents. "How are you going to do that?"

"Civilian clothes. Armed only with pistols. We've got our FBI IDs, and Lewis will take care of the locals."

"It might work." Merrit pointed at the city map posted on an easel. "I don't think they've gone far from where they got out of the rig. If the timing on the brothers' deaths is correct, the Synbats had only a few hours at best before the pods activated. Once that happened they had to find a place to hide."

"How long before the young Synbats are able to move about?" Riley asked.

"Two to three days," Merrit answered. "A week before they'll have any chance at self-sufficiency by killing small game, such as rats, dogs, or cats, and scavenging garbage. They'll be eighty percent grown in a month. Able to mate in two months. Full grown at four months."

"When will they be a threat to humans?"

Merrit shrugged. "That's hard to say. Individually I would say in a month. But I'd hate to run into a pack of week-old Synbats working in concert."

"If we stumble onto their lair in the next four or five days, then we ought to get all the young ones, right?"

"We should, unless they've split forces and have more than one hiding place."

That stopped Riley for a second. It's what he would do if he were in the Synbats' position. "You think they'd do that?"

"I hope not, but they split up in Tennessee in order to survive," Merrit reminded him. "There's no reason why they wouldn't do it again."

Riley backtracked. "If we get all three adults in the next four days and eliminate them, the young would starve?"

"Unless the old ones have left an adequate supply of food for the young ones."

"Damn," Riley cursed. "They already tried that once with the horses back in the LBL, so I guess they'll do it again."

Merrit nodded. "Now you're beginning to see the magnitude of the problem. Not only that, but don't forget that the adults are capable of breeding again. With only a ten-day gestation period, we could see another generation of Synbats born early in the week after next."

"I know all that," Riley remarked irritably. "I'm more worried about the fact that they always seem to be one step ahead of us. We need them to make a mistake, or we need a hell of a lot of luck, and I don't like working that way. The problem I'm having with all this — " He paused as Colonel Lewis strode up.

"Lieutenant Giannini just called. She says she has something you might be interested in. I'll take your men and start the search while you go downtown." He tossed a portable phone to Riley. "Stay in touch. Clear?"

"Yes, sir." He turned to Merrit. "Let's roll."

Giannini was dipping a doughnut in a cup of coffee when Riley and Merrit appeared at her door. She waved the dripping pastry at them, gesturing for them to come in. "Grab a seat."

Riley glanced around, then stepped back out to drag in an extra chair, while Merrit took the only one available. A silence ensued, broken only by the sound of the detective eating her breakfast. Riley looked around, taking in the files piled here and there and the overflowing garbage can. There were a few plaques on the wall and Riley read the nearest, a commendation for bravery while breaking up a bank robbery. Riley returned his gaze to Giannini and she was looking at him. Their eyes locked for a long second.

Giannini broke contact first, pointing at the grungy coffeepot sitting on top of her filing cabinet. "Want some?"

Merrit shook her head, but Riley stood and poured himself a plastic cup full of the dark liquid. He took a sip and grimaced at the gritty taste. "What have you got?"

Giannini kicked back in her seat, sipping out of a cracked mug. "Nothing solid. Just been wandering around the station house that covers the district where your killers disappeared. I was there earlier this morning when the shifts changed." She grinned, laugh lines appearing around her dark eyes. "You want to find out what's happening on the streets, you just hang around the locker room."

"The locker room?" Merrit asked.

"Yeah," Giannini said. She smiled again. "Don't worry, they ain't got nothing in there I haven't seen before." She put down the mug. Merrit didn't react to the remark. "Anyway. There were two guys talking about some old bum who'd been nagging them when they were trying to walk their beat. He was all upset 'cause his shopping cart got stolen."

"So?" Riley prompted.

"Well, the bum said that he'd left it parked near his 'home' — some of these people are very territorial — and a — get this — a 'gorilla' — that was his word — stole his cart."

Riley sat forward. "A gorilla? What did it look like?"

Giannini shrugged. "That was all they had."

"Can we find this bum?" Riley asked.

She shook her head. "I doubt it. There's probably dozens of homeless in that area, and the two guys didn't remember much about what the fellow looked like. I know the place they were talking about, though. It's about eight blocks from where the truck was left."

"Can we go there?"

Giannini stood up, strapping on a large-caliber revolver in a shoulder holster.

Sergeant Major Powers read the latest message from Riley, then tore it into little pieces and burned it in his trash can. The other members of the battalion headquarters staff were just arriving after having spent the last several hours conducting physical training, getting cleaned up, and eating breakfast.

With a slight limp, Powers went to the door and made his way to the Group headquarters building. He knocked once on the commander's door and entered. Stopping the appropriate two paces in front of the desk, he saluted and waited.

Colonel Hossey looked up from the papers spread across his desk. "What's the latest?"

"They're set up in Chicago. Riley thinks the Synbats have holed up there in an abandoned building. He feels they will most likely not find them until the Synbats themselves make contact."

"Shit," Hossey muttered. "Anything else?"

"No, sir. I know where Riley and his men are located and the phone number at that location."

"All right. I want you to keep two teams on alert status, ready to roll with fifteen minutes' notice. Live ammunition, civilian clothes — you know the deal."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll have a Blackhawk from the aviation platoon ready to fly. You call out to the airfield and talk to the pilot in command. Make sure you can get hold of him."

"Yes, sir."

"Carry on."

"This was the street the two officers were walking," Giannini said as she pulled the unmarked car over to the curb, next to a hydrant. "The homeless person could have come out of any of these side streets."

Riley looked around. It reminded him of the South Bronx, his home. There were numerous small shops on the ground floors of the buildings, just opening to greet the day's customers. The upper floors contained apartments. The side streets led to other apartment buildings and businesses. Several of the buildings were abandoned, some burned out.

"Let's take a walk," Riley said as he opened his door. Giannini and Merrit followed.

As he walked the sidewalks and filthy alleyways, Riley lost hope of ever tracking down the Synbats. There were just too many places for them to hide. He looked up at all the broken windows peering over his head like so many eyes; the creatures could be hiding behind any one of them.

Even if he did stumble across the Synbats, Riley was none too sure that he and his men could stop them. Knutz's and T-bones's M16s hadn't been found, which meant that the Synbats most likely still had them, along with the combat vests containing extra ammunition. Despite Ward's claims that the Synbats had not been taught to reload, Riley didn't want to test them on that.

After two hours of wandering, Riley could sense Giannini's impatience. They'd exchanged barely twenty words the entire time.

Finally, Giannini halted outside a local delicatessen. "Let's get some lunch."

Riley acquiesced, and they went into the small store. He was surprised when Giannini spoke in Italian to the proprietor. The two seemed to know each other and conversed rapidly as the old man sliced the meat and cheese for the sandwiches they had ordered. When the three large submarines were laid on the countertop, Riley insisted on paying, and Giannini didn't even pretend to argue. They took a table near the front window as the lunchtime crowd started to surge in.

"You from around here?" Riley asked.

"No. I used to work this area, though, when I was first assigned to the force." Giannini took a large bite of her sandwich. Riley was amused to see Merrit dubiously eyeing the massive amount of bread and cold cuts.

"How long have you been a cop?" Riley asked.

"Fourteen years."

"Like it?"

Giannini cocked an eyebrow at Riley and answered with her mouth full. "You writing a book or what? It's a job." She swallowed. "Yeah, I like it. Makes each day interesting. I'd go crazy if I had to get up every morning and do the same shit every single day." She turned to Merrit. "So, Doc. Any idea where your killers might've gone? You've been awfully quiet."

"They've found a place to hide," Merrit said.

"Yeah?" Giannini shook her head. "Doing what? They got to eat, don't they? And what're they waiting for? Do they need money? Maybe they're looking for a job. Maybe they're ripping people off. You haven't given us shit to work with. All you want us to do is tell you if anything unusual happens. Yet we just wasted a morning walking around the streets looking for God knows what. You must have some idea what you're looking for." She turned back to Riley. "How about giving us a description of your suspects other than that they're wearing animal skins."

For the briefest moment, Riley was tempted to chuck it all and tell her. He remembered his bitterness about not being told himself, yet here he was doing the exact same thing.

"We don't have anything more than that," he said quietly.

"Bullshit!" Giannini spat out, slamming her sandwich on the table. "Then what the hell is she doing?" she asked, pointing at Merrit. "Making a psych profile out of thin air?"

"I'm… I'm basing it on the crime scenes," Merrit stammered. "I'm tracking their actions and trying to get an idea of who we're after."

"I told you I've been on this job for fourteen years, and I've never been involved with something as weird as this," Giannini said. "The chief may have bought off on all this crap for his own reasons, and that's fine and dandy, but that don't mean I have to. I checked with my source in the FBI and he says there's no Special Agent Riley listed in his computer. I called the coroner's office and they told me the bodies of the Sattler brothers were taken away by people from the federal government and they have no idea where they are now. There wasn't even an autopsy."

Giannini leaned forward. "So who are you and what's going on? And don't give me any of your supersecret federal bullshit. That stuff only works in the movies. I'm a cop and this is my city and you're fucking with it."

Riley hadn't moved the entire time she was speaking. When she ran out of steam he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "I'm not going to give you any bullshit, all right? If I tell you what's really going on, it's not going to be like in the movies, because the people you're dealing with don't play games and don't make speeches. They could kill us both. You've got fourteen years being a cop; well, I've got quite a few years playing another game altogether and it's got its own set of rules. I didn't make the goddamn rules and I don't like them and sometimes I don't even see a reason for them, but that doesn't mean I can just do whatever I please.

"There's a price to everything. You should know that — you're a cop. You break the law and you pay the price. If I tell you what's really going on — since you obviously know that the cover story is bullshit — then you'd damn well better be ready to pay the price when the hammer comes down." He opened his denim jacket and pulled up his T-shirt, briefly exposing the puckered skin where high-velocity bullets had exited his body. "I've paid the price before. Are you willing? Are you really willing?"

Giannini's voice was flat. "I'm willing."

Riley stood. "Let's go to the car." They threw the remains of their lunch in the garbage and made their way to the police car. A cable TV van had blocked them in while the workers were playing out cable into an open manhole. Giannini had to get the truck to move before they could pull into the traffic.

"Find someplace to park and Doctor Merrit will tell you about what we're after."

Giannini parked underneath the elevated highway and, with the roar of traffic overhead, Merrit begin relating in a monotone the story of the Synbats from inception to breakout. Riley picked up the action from there until arriving in Chicago. When he was done, Giannini stared at him. "If it wasn't for seeing those bodies in that trailer, I'd be looking around for Candid Camera right now. This is the craziest stuff I've ever heard." She blinked. "You're not bullshitting me, are you?"

Riley shook his head. "No."

The detective slumped back in the car seat. "Holy shit," she muttered. She stayed silent for a few moments before finally turning back to Riley. "So, you're army, Special Forces?"

Riley nodded.

"And these things beat you and your men down there in that park?"

Riley nodded reluctantly.

"Then how the hell do you expect to catch them up here?"

"Because we didn't know what we were up against in Tennessee. I was lied to, just as you were lied to by me. And that's why I'm telling you the truth now. My men are here in the city. First sign of the Synbats, we're going in hard."

"First sign will probably be some dead bodies, if what you say about these things is true," Giannini said.

"I know that," Riley replied.

The lieutenant turned to Merrit. "You made these things?"

Merrit didn't hear her; she was lost in her own thoughts. Giannini repeated the question.

"I was part of the team that developed them."

"Jesus Christ!" Giannini exploded. "What the hell were you thinking when you did that?"

Merrit turned away and stared out the window. "I'll pay for it," she whispered.

"That's not the issue right now," Riley interceded. "The fact is that the Synbats were created and they're out here in the city somewhere."

Giannini sighed and sank back in the driver's seat, peering out the windshield. "All right. I can't tell anyone that I know this, right?"

"If you do, you'll be out of circulation as soon as Lewis finds out," Riley said.

Giannini considered that for a few moments, then switched tack. "You think the gorilla that stole the shopping cart might've been one of your creatures?"

"It's possible," Riley answered. "It's also possible that the man was just drunk."

"What would they want a shopping cart for?"

"I don't know," Riley said. "But I guess we'll find out. Sooner or later they'll kill, and you'll hear about it. Then we go in and nail them."

Giannini looked at him. "And what if you don't? Huh? What if you don't get them, and they multiply?"

"We'll get them," Riley insisted.

"Uh-huh."

Outside the windows dusk was settling over the city. Riley had dropped off Merrit at the command center an hour ago and checked in with Lewis. They'd found no sign of the Synbats during their daylight covert search. Riley had continued on down to police headquarters on State Street. Giannini greeted him with the news that there was no news.

"I've checked everything. Nothing that could be your creatures." Giannini looked up at Riley from the police reports. "Let me ask you something."

"What?" Riley replied warily.

"The feds lied to you — just like you lied to me, until I got on your case. Now you're up here trying to clean up this big pile of shit these same people laid in your lap." She rubbed a hand wearily across her forehead. "And you said you've been doing this for a long time and this isn't the first time you've been involved in something like this. Right?"

"Yeah," Riley admitted.

"So why are you doing it?" Giannini demanded. "Why are you doing this? I don't know you, but I get feelings about people. You have to, to be a good soldier. And I feel that you're a good person. You wouldn't have told me what's going on if you weren't. So why are you still doing it?"

Riley crumpled up the plastic coffee cup he'd been holding and threw it into the overflowing trash can. He sat down in the old wooden chair and propped up his feet on the scarred front end of Giannini's desk. "I do it 'cause I think I'm reasonably good at it. The places I've been and the things I've done — someone's had to do it. I like to think I do it better than some yo-yo who would get his people wasted."

"You could've been good at something else besides what you do," Giannini said quietly.

"Yeah," Riley admitted. "But the army got me off the streets of the South Bronx. All my buddies from school — and I'm talking grade school, 'cause most didn't make it to high school — they're in jail, dead, or might as well be dead. But I got a ticket out. The army's been good to me. I got a high school diploma and an associate's degree from the army. I've been able to travel all over the world and — "

"Visit exotic places, meet interesting people, and kill them," Giannini cut in.

Riley sat up in his seat, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Yeah, I've heard that crap before. And I've done it. But let me ask you something. Have you ever lived in a foreign country?"

"No," she admitted.

"Well, I have. I've been all over the world. I've seen a lot of countries, and the people in them. And the people — they're not so different. People are the same everywhere. There's good ones and bad ones. Most just want to live their lives without the government fucking with them."

The front legs of Riley's chair hit the floor with a slam. "Yeah, this is total bullshit — tracking down these Synbats. The fact that they were made. The fact that they tore apart a bunch of people, including a young girl. Yeah. All right. I agree. But what do you want me to do? Overthrow the government?

"I'll tell you one thing — one thing I truly do believe," he continued. "We live in the greatest country in the world. Yeah, we got our problems. Who doesn't? The world's a fucked place. You've walked the streets. You know what people are capable of. Doesn't it follow that some of these people end up in the government? But people like me and my team and the thousands like us make up for the occasional sociopath who makes it to the Beltway. I have to believe that. It's all a balance of powers, right? So far, it seems to have worked all right."

Riley stood. "You got to believe in something. Right now we have one goal: Kill these things as quickly as possible."

Giannini stood also. "I'll help you find them. You kill them."