The Eighth Day

Chapter 38

Chad Dodd zoomed in and squinted at the tablet. His brow furrowed. At last, he shook his head and laughed.

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"They're at the Café del Mar. That's where Gary Reed got himself killed trying to warn the Delta and Harrington entered the picture. The man's got one hell of a sense of irony. I guess it's poetic or something, making his last stand where all this started. Must think he's safe with an audience."

Dodd gave Jensen the address. They stopped a couple blocks away, and Emma piled out of the Suburban with Dodd and the Alpha while Jensen programmed directions for the nearest parking garage into the navigation system. His expression remained impassive to the horns and obscenities shouted from the vehicles stacking up behind him as he unfolded himself from the cab and eased the door shut, and the Suburban rolled off into the night.

They forged their way along the sidewalk beneath a halo of streetlights and holosigns that glowed fiery red, dark blue, and the yellow-orange of sulfur.

"How do you wanna handle this?" Emma asked.

"Lemme do the talking," Dodd said. "I'll lay it out for them. Once Harrington finds out what his pal is, I'm hoping he'll see the light."

"And if he doesn't?"

Dodd shrugged. "Either way, Harrington is coming with us. No loose ends this time." He peered at Jensen. "If he tries to resist, you're up to bat. Nonlethal force. If we can, let's avoid a scene. Make it look legit."

Jensen nodded. The press of bodies had thinned with the setting of the sun, and the few who remained gave his lumbering gait a wide berth.

Dodd went on. "Tyler, if things get hot, try to defuse the situation. Some part of him remembers you as his wife, so work that. The Alpha's a last resort. We only put him in play if Echo-7 throws down or tries to run." He turned to the Alpha. "You understand?"

But the Alpha had fallen behind them. He paced a young woman in a sundress and denim jacket who was hand in hand with a little tow-headed girl in pigtails. He peered at the child with a wordless stare. The woman wrapped an arm around the child and increased her stride, but he matched it. She regarded him with wide, fearful eyes.

"What's your problem, creep?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Dodd's face clenched like a fist. "Hey!" He raised his forearm, a finger poised over the wristband.

The Alpha froze and raised his hands in mock surrender. The young woman and little girl hurried past, the woman tossing an anxious glance over her shoulder.

"Last goddamn warning," Dodd said. "Next time, you're done."

"There won't be a next time," the Alpha said in a low, malefic tone.

Emma half-expected Dodd to do it—a tap of the wristband, and the Alpha would crumple to the pavement as his head rolled into the gutter. But instead, Dodd spun on his heels and strode off, and they fell in behind him.

It was probably for the best. If Echo-7 fought back, they had no chance without the Alpha. Yet a terrible foreboding gripped Emma. He was a loose cannon with a lit fuse, waiting to go off. Nevertheless, she said nothing.

Later, she'd wish she had.