Episode 41, “Count of Ten”

 

“Put as at the curb,” said VanClef from the passenger seat.  “Keep power applied.  We made need to reposition if they change  course.”

In the driver’s seat of the truck, Stevens nodded.  He put two fingers to the transceiver in his ear.

“Stevens,” said the younger agent. “Go ahead.”  He waited for a few moments.  “Get back here as soon as possible,” he directed. Then he touched the transceiver to disengage it.

VanClef sighed.  Without looking at Stevens, he said, “They’ve failed, haven’t they?”

“All three, sir,” said Stevens. “Smith last night. Klyter and Korth this morning. Moxley and Neiring remain at large.”

“Perhaps we should assign Orrin to them. Assuming the capture and recovery goes as planned.”

“It’s a thought, sir. I’d rather we not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Good man,” said VanClef. “I may forgive you for the Ms. West matter.”

“Yes, sir.”

They waited in silence for a few moments.  Finally, VanClef pointed with one gloved finger.  “There,” he said.  “Ten 0’clock.”

“Sir?”

“Sixty degrees left, damn you,” said VanClef.  “Unmistakably Ian Peyton.”

Peyton stood head and shoulders above the rest of the nighttime crowd. He walked with one shoulder canted; that would be the side to which Annika was attached. She was not visible past the other pedestrians.

“Should I release the subjects, sir?”  Stevens asked.

“Not yet,” said VanClef.  “Let’s see where they go.”

“They’re headed for the amusement park,” said Stevens.  “They go there frequently.”

VanClef nodded. “Move us down the street. Stay well back. But keep with them.”

Stevens guided the truck down the street, hopping blocks slowly, moving around other vehicles with care.  When they had paused once more to let Peyton and Annika enter the amusement park, Stevens turned to VanClef.

“Sir,” he said.  “I have an idea.”  VanClef stared at him.  Stevens said, “If we send in the subjects, there will quite possibly be collateral damage.”

“I would say that’s certain,” said VanClef.

“Let me go in on foot, sir,” said Stevens.  “Let me talk to them. It’s the one strategy we haven’t tried.”

“Do I need to remind you of the damage Peyton did to the school?” asked VanClef. “With his bare hands?”

“Respectfully, sir,” said Stevens, “He is with his daughter. I’ve studied his psychological profile extensively. He was willing to die, even wanted to die, until a mysterious computer error alerted the Warden to her presence in the gallery.”

“Richards’ big mouth,” said VanClef, “has cost a great many people their lives.”

“My point, sir,” said Stevens, “is that I can play to his desire to protect her. Mentally he has almost no guile, sir. A purely average intelligence quotient at best. He’s no match for me.”

“Very well,” said VanClef.  “If it will prevent us from garnering any more attention, it’s worth a try.  Keep your transceiver open.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stevens left the heavy panel truck. He crossed the street and entered the amusement park.  When he was a dozen meters from the front gates, he stopped.  He saw Annika Peyton, alone, climbing aboard a ride called the Tiltrotor.

Of course. Peyton was too large to ride any of the rides with her. The crowds, the bright lighting inside the park… he would not be here. He would be outside, just outside, where he could keep her under watch. Stevens retraced his steps.  He turned left, found nothing, and walked back toward the main gates.  The right-hand path took him around the perimeter fence.

He never saw the shadows come alive. He was walking, one moment; the next he was being held aloft by the neck.

“Follow my daughter,” said Peyton.  “Follow me. That’s not good for you.”

“Wait,” Stevens managed to say, gasping.  “Please. I just want to talk to you.”

Peyton threw him to the ground.  Stevens felt something crack inside his chest.  He coughed and instantly regretted this.

“Ten,” said Peyton.

“I’m with Government Intelligence, Peyton,” said Stevens.  He tried to rise.  Peyton planted one enormous boot on his chest and pressed him back into the pavement. Stevens’ ribs ground together. He screamed and almost passed out.

“Nine,” said Peyton.

“Listen to me,” Stevens said, talking quickly.  “You can’t protect your daughter, Peyton. Not forever. You’re one man against the endless resources of the Northam Federation. What happens to Annika when they take you down? I can help you!”

Peyton removed his foot.  Air, precious air, rushed into Stevens’ lungs.

“Eight,” said the giant.  “Seven.”

“VanClef is here,” said Stevens.  “He’s ready to take you down. To take her into custody. He’s got men who are still loyal to him. And he’s got weapons you aren’t prepared to face.  This won’t be easy for you, Peyton.”

“Six,” said Peyton.  “Five.  Four.”

“If you give her to me, now,” said Stevens, “she’ll be safe. Turn yourself in. You can live out your life in the Promontory if that’s what you want. We can pull a few strings, get your death sentence commuted. Annika could even visit you in prison.”

“My daughter,” said Peyton, “will never see the inside of that place. Three.”

“Don’t you understand?” Stevens said.  “She’s not yours, Peyton. Not in any way that counts. The two of you are nothing alike.  You’re an ant compared to her intellect. How long before she outgrows you, Peyton? How long before she leaves? She can’t stay with you forever. She has a destiny, Peyton.”

“Two,” said Peyton. His voice was a whisper.

“What can you offer her?” asked Stevens.  “You’re a murderer, Peyton. A criminal. When she gets old enough to understand who and what you are, when she’s smart enough to stare into your heart and see the monster that dwells there, will she still accept you?”

“One,” said Peyton. “Stop talking.”

“How smart is she now, Peyton?” Stevens went on. “How soon will it be before she reaches that level? Not long at all. Not at her current rate of development. What happens then? Do you think you’ll still be her father?”

“I’ll be her father until I’m dead,” said Peyton. He raised his heel again.

“You’re nothing,” said Stevens.

“You first,” said Peyton.

He brought down his boot.