Armageddon - By James Patterson Page 0,37
pinkie ring was some kind of communicator, and he was about to call in the order for Mel’s execution.
“Hang on another second,” I said. “Let Agent Judge and me hash this out.”
“No, Daniel,” said Agent Judge, even though I could tell that saying no to me and yes to his daughter’s execution was tearing him apart. “I will not permit you to lose your life! Too many other lives hang in the balance.”
I circled my finger near my temple to let Gogg know I thought Agent Judge was acting crazy. “Um, he and I need to chat,” I said as pleasantly as I could, so that Gogg would think I was on his side.
“Fine,” said Gogg. “You have one Earth minute.”
I grabbed Agent Judge and spun him around so Gogg couldn’t hear what we were saying—or read our lips.
“Don’t worry,” I said as quickly as I could. “I’m calling his bluff.”
“Daniel, as much as I admire your courage, as much as I want you to save Mel’s life, the good of the many outweighs the good of the few, or the one.”
“But if my hunch is correct, we won’t lose the many, the few, or, most important, the one.” I motioned toward the images of Mel fearlessly facing her firing squad. Never flinching. Never letting her enemy see how terrified she must truly be.
“What are you thinking, Daniel?”
“That, for some reason I haven’t figured out yet, Abbadon is afraid of me.”
Agent Judge arched an eyebrow. “And what makes you say that?”
“In New York City, before he decked me with that sucker punch and sent me sailing into the future, he could’ve killed me. He could’ve come after me himself outside that coal mine in West Virginia, but he sent Attila. When he decimated D.C., he didn’t come to destroy us; he just put a price on my head. And tonight? If it was so easy for his troops to penetrate our defenses, why didn’t Number 2 come along for the ride? Why did he send this emissary?”
“You raise some very interesting questions, Daniel….”
“I don’t think Abbadon will harm Mel until he gets me exactly where he wants me—wherever that might be.”
“Go with your gut, son,” said Agent Judge. “I’ll back you up all the way.”
I nodded and we both turned around to face Gogg once again.
“Okay, Ambassador Gogg. Tell your boss he can have what he wants. He can have me.”
“Wonderful,” purred the giant idiot. “Abbadon will be most pleased. You will kindly enter my vessel and—”
“No. We do this thing right here, right now.”
“B-b-but—”
“This whole horse farm can be our arena. He sends away the helicopters, I tell my FBI guys to take a hike. It’s just him and me. One-on-one. Winner takes all. Including, of course, Miss Melody Judge.”
“I, uh…”
“What’s Abbadon afraid of?”
Gogg nervously wiggled his gangly fingers and thought long and hard about what he could say into that pinkie-ring communicator that wouldn’t incur Abbadon’s wrath.
I was right. Number 2 didn’t want to tangle with me in New York, Moscow, London, Beijing, or even Kentucky because he needed our battle to take place somewhere else, maybe even sometime else.
Why?
I had no earthly idea.
Chapter 52
WHILE GOGG FRETTED and wiggled his articulated digits, all the images of Mel instantly dissolved into an extreme (and extremely ugly) close-up of Number 2.
I was instantly overcome by a severe case of the heebie-jeebies. Number 2’s appearance in the projections was different from the other guises I had already seen him put on. Now he had his face slathered with brightly colored war paint, like William Wallace and his Highlanders in that movie Braveheart. Of course, I knew it was Number 2, no matter how much makeup he put on. His glowing-ember eyes totally gave him away.
“Hello again, Daniel.”
“Hello, Abbadon. Long time, no see.”
“Yes. What a shame you had to leave New York without seeing the Statue of Liberty—facedown and drowning in the harbor.”
“She won’t stay that way for long.”
“Is that a threat?”
I shrugged. “More like a promise.”
“You think you can undo what I have done?”
“Sure. And the humans who built the statue in the first place will help.”
“Oh, yes. Earthlings can be quite helpful when they support one’s cause. Oh, by the way, Daniel—did you enjoy your time in Tomorrowland?”
“It was fantastic. Mostly because you weren’t there.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. A guy named Bob told me you had scurried underground to hide in your rat hole.”
“True. Because you see, Daniel, by tomorrow, underground is where Mel will be. With me. In fact, while