16
A lead weight plummeted into Jack's stomach when he found his apartment door unlocked.
On guard, he leaped through and dashed to the kitchen.
"Kate?"
Empty. The microwave off, the cracked door ajar—paused with hours left to run. A knife on the counter but no blood.
"Kate!"
His bedroom, the TV room, empty. No sign of a struggle. Back to the door: no sign of a break-in. What the hell? It looked as if Kate had simply turned off the oven and walked out. But she wouldn't do that.
Obviously she had. Which meant she was wandering around the city somewhere under the influence of the Unity.
Panic nibbled at Jack. She could be anywhere. Why? Why had she done it? He stood by the silent microwave, staring at its cracked glass. He was about to slam it closed when he spotted the corner of a piece of paper inside. He yanked it open, grabbed the sheet, and read.
And read again, his tongue turning to parchment.
The virus… mutating to airborne… the bomb…
He darted to the secretary and found the drawer ajar and empty. The Semmerling gone too.
She'd reconstructed the bomb and turned herself into a Trojan Horse.
Jack's throat constricted at the thought of her sitting alone in his kitchen piecing the bomb together, the depth of desperation that had driven her to such an act.
Why, Kate? Wanted to scream it. Why couldn't you wait for me?
We could have fought this together! I could have fixed this if you'd just let me!
Ten o'clock… the note said if he can do anything, do it before ten o'clock. He glanced at his watch: 8:05. Less than two hours. But even if he had two days—he had no idea where she was.
"Kate!" he whispered to the note. "Where are you?"
He spotted the phone. She'd been using it. Maybe…
He checked his voicemail. One message. Please!
"Shit!" he hissed as he recognized Palmer's voice.
"FYl: your friend Holdstock and what's left of his cult have moved their clubhouse to number seven Starfisher Lane in Ocean Beach, New Jersey. You might want to come down and take a peek. It's weirder than you can imagine."
Jack was on the move as soon as the message ended. Superman's pal, Jimmy Olsen, had come though. Ocean Beach. He knew where it was. No need to pause to arm up. Had enough firepower. What he needed was time.
The Russian lady had said the Unity would cause war, hate, death, fear, pain, and destruction. If that was what they liked, that was what they were going to get.