Blood Money Page 6

  “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Too bad the government is too scared of the ramifications. I mean, here we are, able to save millions of lives at the drop of a hat, and they want to sit on it.”

  “So they really were going to suppress it?” Kelton said.

  “Hell yes. The group I worked for spent three years testing it, only to come back and tell me that it failed during the final testing phase. The only problem was, it didn’t fail. It passed with flying colors. They falsified the data because the government didn’t want an AIDS vaccine on the open market.”

  “And how did you find out the truth? There’s no way your handlers told you what they were doing.”

  “Through Walter,” Jessica said. “He contacted me shortly after my handlers informed me that it had failed. He told me that they were lying, and when I doubted his contentions, he emailed me a couple of inter-department memos that he’d somehow gotten a hold of, outlining their plans. That’s how I knew he had to have some serious connections. How he got his hands on those memos, I’ll never know.”

  “What I don’t understand is why the government would want to sit on something like that. You’d think they’d want to get it out in the open.”

  “They can’t. Too much political pressure.”

  “From where?”

  “Everywhere,” Jessica said. “Foreign governments who wouldn’t be able to feed the millions of people the drug would cure, the right-wingers who believe AIDS is a scourge of God sent to punish homosexuals, and of course, the biggest push of all—lobbyists for the pharmaceutical industry.”

  “It’s that big of a business now, huh?”

  “Do you have any idea how much medication costs are if you’re HIV positive?”

  “No.”

  “Fifteen thousand dollars a month,” Jessica said. “All for a combination of drugs that don’t even cure you, just prolong the length of time it takes for HIV to transform into full-blown AIDS.”

  “Which, in turn, extends the amount of time you get to pay them for their drugs, which in turn, increases their profits,” Kelton said.

  “Exactly,” Jessica said. “AIDS is a multi-billion dollar a year industry, with more than 100,000 researchers in America alone. There’s no way the pharmaceutical industry is going to just sit back and watch as a cure is introduced to the world. No way in hell. And when you add in the pressure coming from all the other political angles, it’s easy to see why the government is perfectly willing to suppress it.”

  “It’s a screwed up world,” Kelton said.

  “It certainly is. But it doesn’t do us any good to whine about it, so let’s get back to the issue at hand.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  “The plan for getting me into Walter’s hands,” Jessica said. “Where do we go from here?”

  “We head down south to San Diego, and as long as nothing out of the ordinary pops up, we’ll meet up with Walter at seven o’clock tonight.”

  “And you’ll hand me over to him personally?”

  Kelton nodded.

  Jessica looked at the clock on the dash. “What time are we going to get to San Diego?”

  “Around 5 o’clock this afternoon.”

  “So we’ll have a couple of hours to kill?”

  “About that.”

  “Where are we going to spend them? The Zoo? Sea World?”

  “I think it’s better if we just go to my house,” Kelton said. “It’s not far from the rendezvous point and I know it’s safe.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Taking me to your place? How romantic.”

  “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “I bet your girlfriend loves that attitude,” Jessica said.

  Kelton flashed her a half-smile. “Back to the personal questions already?”

  Jessica shrugged. “I thought I might as well give it a shot, keep things lively around here. Otherwise I must just fall asleep from the lack of stimulation.”

  “What, this morning wasn’t stimulating enough for you?”

  “Actually, it was quite a bit easier than I expected it to be,” Jessica said. “When you showed up in my room, I figured we were going to have to do some hard work to get out of there.”

  “Really?” Kelton said.

  Jessica nodded. “Weren’t you expecting more trouble from the Feds?”

  “Not really,” Kelton said. “The safety of the place they were holding you was predicated on it’s anonymity. Once that was breached, it didn’t have much to offer.”

  “Still,” Jessica said. “You couldn’t have been expecting it to be that easy? We waltzed out of there without any real confrontation.”

  “Actually, with the information I had, it should have been even easier,” Kelton said. “The plan was to get you out of there without anyone even knowing you were gone. It would have happened, too, if that agent would have stayed in the bathroom for another fifteen seconds.”

  “Speaking of that agent, why didn’t you just shoot him and be done with it?”

  Kelton shrugged. “It wouldn’t have done us any good. Shooting him would have resulted in enough noise to wake everyone up anyway, plus it would have just made things much more difficult down the road. With an agent dead, the heat would have been turned up even further. And the last thing we need is more heat.”

  “We don’t appear to be under too much right now.”

  “Oh, I guarantee it’s pretty hot up where we came from,” Kelton said. “And it will eventually spread down this way. After those guys have a chance to organize and mobilize, they’ll be scouring the streets for us. Or you, at least, since they don’t know what I look like.”

  “But by the time they get to that point, you’ll have gotten rid of me, so you’ll be in the clear.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Still,” Jessica said. “They’ll be looking for me, right?”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t sweat that. I’m sure Walter has a plan to deal with that situation. He’s got some experience with new identities.”

  “Did he take care of yours?”

  Kelton shook his head. “No, I did that on my own. But he has procured some new ID’s for me over the years.”

  “How many do you have?”

  Kelton shrugged. “A few. In my line of work, you can never be too careful.”

  “I suppose you can’t,” Jessica said, stifling a yawn. “Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed this conversation, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy for much more. You don’t mind if I get a little sleep, do you?”

  “Not at all. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was just after 5PM when they pulled into Kelton’s driveway. In an effort to neutralize the ever-curious eyes of his neighbors, he parked in the garage and entered the house from there.

  With Kelton leading the way, they passed through the laundry room and into the living room, which was dominated by bookshelves completely covering two of the walls. He quickly checked the rest of the house, but nothing was out of place.

  When he arrived back in the living room, Jessica was standing in front of the shelves, her arms spread out wide.

  “Holy crap,” she said. “I know you said you were a reader, but my god. There must be a thousand books here.”

  “Twelve hundred and eighty-one, actually.”

  Jessica glanced over at him, the smile on her face fading as she realized he was serious. “Have you read all of them?”

  “I wish,” Kelton said. “I’ve probably gotten through about sixty percent, but I’m always adding more, so I doubt I’ll ever actually catch up.”

  Jessica wandered over to the nearest shelf and started looking at the titles. “You’ve got eastern philosophy books next to science fiction next to poetry next to classic literature. What kind of order are these things in?”

  “They’re shelved at random. That way, when I’m searching for something specific, I’m forced to look
at every book. It keeps me from skipping over the same ones constantly. Helps me look at them all anew, every day.”

  Jessica turned her attention from the bookshelves to the rest of the room. It was a standard set-up; entertainment center against one wall, complete with television, DVD player and stereo system, desk against the other wall with an open laptop, a couch, a recliner.

  “It’s all so . . . domestic,” she said.

  “What did you expect?”

  “From you? Who knows? A dojo, maybe an indoor shooting range, something crazy like that. Certainly not a traditional setup.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Oh, I’m not disappointed,” Jessica said. “Just a little surprised. And not necessarily in a bad way.”

  Kelton wasn’t sure what kind of a reaction she was trying for. He decided a change of subject was the easiest way to deal with it. “I was thinking about making something to eat,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  He walked into the kitchen, opened up the refrigerator. “You feel like anything specific?”

  “What have you got?” Jessica said, her nose back in the bookshelves.

  “Chicken, steak, salmon, some fresh vegetables if you don’t eat meat,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Don’t tell me you cook too?”

  “I’ve been known to throw some things together in the kitchen on occasion.”

  Laughing, Jessica said, “There’s something new around every corner with you.”

  “I like to keep people on their toes.”

  “I can see that.”

  They fell silent, their eyes locked together, identical half-smiles forming on their lips.

  A tiny shiver rolled down Kelton’s spine and he quickly shifted his gaze back to the refrigerator. Although he didn’t believe in any of that crap about a special connection with someone you hardly knew, he had to admit that something had passed between them in the previous half-second. Which was bad, considering the situation. The last thing he needed was some sort of an emotional attachment.

  Kelton squashed the sentiment and locked it away in the back of his mind with all his other feelings.

  “So what’ll it be?” he said.

  “I could go for some salmon, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” He pulled the salmon out of the fridge, set it on the counter. “Poached or grilled?”

  “Either one works for me.”

  “Grilled it is, then.” He fired up the indoor grill and opened the package, letting the fish breathe. He then opened the cupboard and looked at his collection of spices. “Blackened, or with lemon and garlic?”

  “Oh, blackened, definitely.”

  “Good choice,” he said, pulling the container of Cajun spices from the cupboard. “Make yourself at home. This will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  “That was magnificent,” Jessica said after finishing the last of her salmon. She set the fork on the plate and leaned back in her chair. “You’re one hell of a cook.”

  “Thank you,” Kelton said in a poor Elvis imitation. “Thank you very much.”

  “You could use some work on your impersonations though.”

  “Yeah, they’re not my strongest suit.”

  “Yet you cling to them anyway,” Jessica said.

  “Some things you just can’t let go.”

  Jessica was looking at him sideways, her mouth turned up in a little smirk.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking about how happy you must make all the women,” she said. “With your looks, your brains and your culinary skills, you must be beating them away from the door.”

  Kelton laughed, shook his head. “Yeah right.”

  “Come on, you can’t tell me the girls around here aren’t lining up for a shot at you.”

  “Not even close,” Kelton said. “Truth is, you’re the first woman to step foot in this house since I’ve lived here.”

  “Don’t give me that crap,” Jessica said, laughing the comment off.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Holy crap, you really are. Wait a minute, don’t tell me you’re gay?”

  “Nope,” Kelton said. “Straight as an arrow.”

  “Then what’s your deal?”

  “I’m just not good with women.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “A few times,” he said. “But not in a few years. I figure why bother when I know how it’s going to end up anyway. It’s just a waste of time.”

  Jessica laughed under her breath. “You’re a strange man, Kelton. You know that?”

  “I’ve heard that a few times.”

  “I mean, look at you. On the surface you’re a normal guy, living in a normal house, doing normal things; cooking, reading, watching television. But then there’s that other side.”

  “Which side is that?” Kelton said. “The one that prefers his own company to the company of others?”

  “I was thinking more like the one that defied the federal government and pulled me from a heavily-guarded safe house.”

  “Ah yes,” Kelton said. “That one. I don’t think of that part as odd.”

  “You don’t? I would call that more than a little odd. Especially when it’s combined with the rest of what appears to be a basically normal existence. I wonder where that part comes from?”

  Kelton crossed his arms, looked down at the table. “I don’t know, really. I’ve always been anti-establishment, always thought for myself, always looked at things from a unique angle, even when I was a kid.”

  “So have lots of other people, but they don’t become mercenaries when they grow up.”

  “I told you before—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a mercenary. But you know what I mean. Something had to lead you down the path you’re on.”

  “It always felt right, like an extension of justice, a necessary part of our system. I just gravitated towards it. I don’t know how to explain it any other way.”

  “Come on, there’s got to more to it than that.”

  “Not really,” Kelton said. “It’s a pretty boring story, actually. No exotic background, no big trauma that led me to a life of vigilante justice, nothing out of the ordinary, except maybe watching Paladin with my dad on a regular basis growing up.”

  “No military training, nothing like that?”

  “Nope. In fact, I graduated from college with a business degree.”

  Jessica barked out a laugh. “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And you didn’t do anything with it?”

  He shook his head. “I never really had any desire to enter the business world. It was sort of a default degree. I really just went to college to play ball.”

  “What kind of ball? Football?”

  “Baseball.”

  “Oh yeah? What position did you play?”

  “Pitcher. I was the closer.”

  “Were you any good?”

  “I was the epitome of a good college player, but nothing more than that.”

  “What does that mean in English?”

  “It means I put up good stats in college but my stuff didn’t project to the pros, so I didn’t get drafted,” Kelton said. “It’s all about potential when it comes to professional ball, and I didn’t have any. Unfortunately, the only thing I ever wanted to do was play baseball. It had been my life since I was ten years old. And when that opportunity was taken from me, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “So you just decided, out of the blue, to become a vigilante?”

  “Not quite,” Kelton said. “I spent a couple of years working normal jobs, just like any other recent college grad, but I was miserable. I felt like I was just wasting my life away, doing meaningless crap. So I quit and started searching for something more interesting to do.”

  “What about becoming a cop, or going to work for the government? FBI. CIA. Something like that?”

  “I con
sidered those things,” Kelton said. “But I’ve always had a problem with authority, and I knew I wouldn’t work in a regimented system like law enforcement. I’m just not wired that way. But I’ve always had a heightened sense of right and wrong, so I decided to find a way to pursue that on my own. I eventually got hooked up with this guy who ran his own business. He was looking to retire but wanted to find someone to keep the ball rolling before he did. Anyway, we hit it off, and despite my complete and utter lack of experience, he agreed to take me under his wing. Over the course of the next two years, he trained me, taught me the ropes, hooked me up with his connections, and eventually retired. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  Jessica considered this for a moment, then said, “That’s a nice enough story, but I don’t believe it for a second.”

  “Nobody ever does.”

  “It’s just so . . . I don’t know—”

  “Boring? Typical? Unremarkable?” Kelton said.

  She nodded. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

  Kelton stood up, gathered the dishes, headed towards the kitchen. “Let me ask you something,” he said as he rinsed the remains off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “How did you get into biology? It’s a story similar to mine, right?”

  “Yes, but that’s different.”

  “Why?” Kelton said. “Because biology is a socially acceptable field of study?”

  “Exactly.”

  Kelton walked back into the living room and sat down. “So if I told you that same story, but in the end I became a cop instead of a vigilante, you’d believe it then?”

  “Probably.”

  “Because being a cop is socially acceptable,” Kelton said. It was not a question.

  Jessica grudgingly nodded.

  Kelton leaned back in his seat, put his hands behind his head. “Then just take society out of the equation. That’s all I did. What society deems acceptable or unacceptable simply doesn’t enter my thought process.”

  “And why is that?” Jessica said. “Because you consider yourself above society?”

  “Not above it, more like parallel to it. Inhabiting the same space but not a part of it.”

  “Isn’t that a bit egotistical?”

  “Maybe,” Kelton said. “But so what if it is? There’s nothing wrong with thinking of yourself as more enlightened than the rest of society. This country was built by people who felt there were better ways of doing things than what they were currently subjected to, and they took steps to change things.”