Toys - James Patterson [67]
Whatever was going on at the high-level meeting, President Jacklin obviously wanted to get back to it. The other leaders were busily placing differently colored markers on a large table that held a map of the world.
“All right, keep the Agency bombing quiet for now,” he said. “These next few days are going to be insane enough without that kind of news leaking out. We’ll sort out the details later. You haven’t heard the last about this from me.”
“Sir, I’m afraid the Agency of Change is going to need an acting chief,” Lizbeth interjected smoothly. “If I might make a recommendation—I don’t believe you could do better than Senior Agent McGill. He wasn’t responsible for the bombing, but he’s held everything together since then.”
McGill? I almost choked! He was definitely mean enough, but he had nowhere near the level of sophistication to supervise the organization. Even though I would have been a stronger choice, Lizbeth acted like I wasn’t even there. So what did that tell me about my wife?
The president nodded impatiently—he had other things on his mind. Like the imminent extermination of every human on the earth.
“Recommendation accepted,” he said. “On a temporary basis. Just make damned sure you do a better job than your predecessor. Now do your job!”
“Yes, sir!” McGill said, saluting. The gesture in itself made me gag.
The hologram faded with the president striding away to rejoin his scary conspirators. By now, I’d realized what the subject must be. The top Elites were dividing up the human world, country by country. Those bastards were getting ready to take over the vast sections of the earth that would soon be deserted.
Lizbeth turned to me. Was that a tear I saw in her eye? God, she was good! “You do understand why I couldn’t recommend you, don’t you, Hays?” she said. “You’re my husband. It wouldn’t have been right.”
“Besides, you’re too valuable in the field,” McGill added. “You know that, Hays. And you’ve been injured recently. You understand?”
I understood, all right, but I had to keep pushing on with the charade.
“Don’t worry, the Agency job’s the last thing in the world I’d want,” I said. Then I started toward the door. “I’m going home to get some rest. I need to recharge. The big day is almost here. I’m sure it will be worth the wait.”
I could feel the two of them hesitate—they wanted to keep tabs on me. But they were also wrapped up in their newfound power, and what it would mean for them once the humans were eliminated. Every high-ranking Elite would become more powerful, and probably wealthy beyond imagining.
“You’ve earned it, darling,” Lizbeth finally said. “Wait home for me, OK? I won’t be long.”
Once outside the Agency building, I jumped in my car and sped straight across the city—to the human slums.
Go home, like hell.
Chapter 91
AN HOUR LATER, no more than that, McGill strode in a quiet rage along a dark, littered alley that led into a crosshatching of even more dark, littered alleyways. He was headed toward a gutted old warehouse at the far end. It was home to a collection of humans, the kind of scum who’d never had much luck to begin with. Well, now their luck was all gone.
“Don’t come any closer—this is a warning!” a sentry, a boy, called from the shadows. The human guard was apparently used to dealing with the slum’s sneaky thieves and manic Ghools—not a huge policeman suddenly charging at him like 270 pounds of battering ram.
McGill stopped short of a collision—and then shot the human dead. He picked up the worthless boy and hurled him tumbling into the gloomy mist beyond the warehouse.
“This is the Agency of Change!” McGill roared. “Get out here now! Line yourselves up against the wall! This is the Agency of Change. You will obey me or die! I’m Owen McGill. Heard of me, skunks?”
As the frightened residents began to appear, McGill fingered the