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all that. That might just get you an insanity plea that'll work, but I doubt
it. But before we head for Philadelphia, we're going to stop by a few friends
of ours from the Company and they're going to give you a little implant."
Kennedy looked nervous. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, as you may know, the way the Company makes sure its people are its own
people is by implanting a tiny little encoder in the body. Brandy and I got
ours a few days ago. It's painless. But you can also stick a code in there
that will make the Labyrinth a mess to you. Your friends won't pull you out,
because you blew it in spades; but even if they did, and you got to a flag
stop and got in, it still wouldn't matter. The Labyrinth would kill you. You
better get used to the idea that you're going to spend some time in Atlanta,
Kennedy."
"Yeah," Brandy added. "About twenty years, but probably a lot less, since that
place is just full of busted drug kings. You might even have sent some of 'em
there. They're gonna just love you."
I had to laugh, and she looked at me oddly. "What's so funny?"
"Ever since I became a cop I had this fantasy of lining up a bunch. of folks
in one place and explaining the case and the pleasure of unmasking the guilty
party. This isn't exactly a drawing room, but, you know, that's just what we
did."
"I'm glad you got to fulfill your ambition before you died, Sam," said a voice
behind us. We all turned, and there was Jamie holding a semiautomatic rifle,
an
Israeli job we'd brought along in the car just in case. "Everyone just drop
your guns on the ground now!" Guns dropped.
"Jamie! Thank God!" Kennedy sighed, and made to move over to her.
"Hold it, Kennedy! You stay with them!" she ordered.
If anything, Kennedy looked more stricken now than he did when we turned the
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file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%20Jack%20L%20-%20G.O.D.%20Inc%201%
20-%20Labyrinth%20of%20Dreams.txt lights on him. "Jamie what? We can still do
it! Don't you see? These two pests, Whitlock, all out of the way. We can still
win!"
"You idiot!" she snapped. "We lost our chance the moment Whitlock escaped. Who
do you think we're fighting? Some little mob brain? It's the Company, you
fool!
This only had a chance of working if everything seemed to happen naturally.
Whitlock going bad and skipping, Big Tony getting sent to prison by straight
testimony of a middle-level hoodlum, all that. I don't think it ever had a
prayer, considering that idiotic but effective drag-queen masquerade. These
two are ten times the detective you are! You didn't even know about that
business until it was already in motion, and then you couldn't penetrate well
enough and quickly enough in two weeks to determine what these two could in
forty-eight hours. We can't have this, Kennedy. You know too much."
"The last of the players in this particular little game," I said. "Good old
Jamie. Too bad, Jamie. I was getting to like you."
"I was getting to like both of you, but that's neither here nor there. This
isn't a time for friendships, Sam. This is strictly business, and I'm assigned
to clean up this mess. This should do it. A mob hit where Whitlock was about
to turn himself in to the feds. Sorry, everyone, I'm on a schedule." She
pulled the trigger, and the night was filled with two seconds of horrible
bursts and a tremendous amount of smoke that made the scene look eerie as it
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reflected the headlights. Kennedy dived for the ground, screaming in terror.
The rest of us just stared at her as she pulled the trigger.
We were still staring when the clip ran dry, only Frank and Georgio had their
own guns back, although it wasn't really necessary.
"They wanted me to bring an empty gun," I said, "but I figured you might
notice an empty clip. You're good at that. So I had them find me some blanks.
A whole box worth. It made better theater, anyway."
"You bastard!" she screamed.
"Hey! Do you know how tough it is to find a box of blanks for an Uzi
semiautomatic?" I noticed her glancing about. "I switched the ones in your
handgun, too, so don't try for the bag. Besides, even if you did, it wouldn't
make any difference. Bill Markham has boys all over here, including the only
exit."
She dropped the gun. "I should have known," she said. "I wondered why you
didn't tell me about this until it was under way enough that I couldn't do
anything but ride along."
"1 didn't want you tipping Kennedy. If he'd been a good boy, though, we'd have
fed you something and seen who you ran to. Still, I can't take all the credit.
Philadelphia is my turf, Jamie, and I already knew you were with them even
before we left Georgetown."
"What?"
"I had to do something, just lying there in the hospital. My arm still hurts,
by the way, thanks to you. So I thought, and I had it figured, particularly
after
Markham filled me in on the background of the Company wars. The plot I had
mostly figured when we talked to Nkrumah. What didn't make sense was why the
opposition would want to kill him, and the girls. He was worth more to
Kennedy, here, alive than dead. He was better dead for the Company, but in
that case I
was the Company. Then it hit me. So long as we were talking, exchanging
information with Little Jimmy, nothing happened. Nothing. But when we started
fingering those girls, arid talking two of them into maybe switching over to
our side then the lights went out. Then when Bill and Tod sprung both of you,
and
Brandy complained that the cops had kept you in your bathing suits and that
you had been wet, it fell right into place. I got Bill to insist on a full
autopsy on the third girl, Suzy, the alleged shooter. With five big holes in
her, and a coroner's office like they got in Georgetown, the cause of death
was too obvious to be worth looking twice at her. You counted on that. But she
hadn't died from gunshot wounds. That's why there wasn't tremendous bleeding.
She'd been strangled. Strangled maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more, before she
allegedly shot me and the others."
"As soon as that autopsy report came in, I had no trouble runnin' with Sam's
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