So Night Follows Day Pt. 28

The chairs faced a podium. Standing at it was a man in a tailored Saville Row tuxedo, wearing a black hood over his head. He spoke in tones that told Helen he'd been Sotheby's trained.

"Ladies and gentlemen. It is now time for the Auction to begin. If everyone will be seated, all of you should already be familiar with our procedures."

The first lot was wheeled up to the podium for presentation.

"Lot one: A shipment of assorted assault rifles in excellent condition, two hundred in total. A sampling of which, we present for inspection. Primarily Warsaw Pact weapons, taken from a terrorist training camp shortly before it was wiped out from the air, reported as having been destroyed. All display samples have had the firing pins removed; the final product that the winning bidder transports away comes with our standard guarantee, and all understood denials. We shall allow two minutes if anyone cares to inspect the samples. I think you'll find our lack of reputation speaks for itself."

There was an appreciative murmur at the Auctioneer's little joke.

"It was funnier when Mander said it." Troy whispered to Helen as some of the prospective buyers signaled to have the weapons brought to them. Pages, also wearing black hoods, brought the weapons to them. Looking around, Troy noticed that the waiters, bar, and quartet were all gone.

"Nobody was wearing hoods before." He murmured to Helen.

"Locals hired for the night." She murmured back. "All they know is some nutty rich people decided to have a fancy cocktail party in a barn in the middle of nowhere. They'll go back home and tell their friends, but the only thing that'll come of it is that in a few months, 'Barn Soirees' might become a thing for a little while in Seattle."

The samples were returned, and bidding began. Troy watched as Helen did nothing while the guns went to someone whom Troy didn't recognize but was certain had nothing good planned with them.

"You're going to let them go?" He murmured to her.

"Troilus, if one of Whyte's drones hit this barn right now? All the evil and suffering in the world? It'd be confused for about two weeks, then it'd pick right back up again. With a new set of assholes in charge, now looking to prove themselves and working to make up for the lost time. I saw who got them, I'll pass it along to the Ministry of Intelligence, but that's all I can do right here. We have an objective. We can't stop all the evil in the world tonight, even though I know it looks like most of it is right here in the room with us."

"Ok, ok." He whispered back. They turned their attention back to the podium and another item was brought out. This one was behind thick, bulletproof plastic. An odd device with some strange canisters hooked up to it.

"Lot two." The Auctioneer continued. "Weaponized Anthrax with aerosol delivery system. Can be triggered in a populated area or, for maximum effect, dropped from the air, into a convenient wind stream. Bidding to open at ten million dollars."

"You're getting that, right?" Troy asked Helen under his breath.

"What?" Helen almost blurted out but managed to keep under her own breath. "Troy, you WANT me to bid on that?"

"It's a GERM BOMB, Helen." Troy muttered back to her. "Your Ministry of Science has the facilities to safely destroy it. I can afford it, especially after yesterday. I will buy it if you don't. Stuff like this is what that Kiburi guy you mentioned was after! We cannot allow one of these fuckers to walk out of here with this thing!"

Troy took hold of Helen's arm that was holding the sign and lifted it.

"Ten million is bid." The Auctioneer announced. "I'm seeing twenty."

Helen turned to smack Troy with the sign before realizing that by lifting it again, she'd just bid thirty million for it now. Someone else bid forty million.

She looked into Troy's eyes. Saw how serious he was about this. Thought of just how few times she'd heard him use the word "fucker," even to describe Wade. Helen nodded.

"Fifty million!" She called out. There were no further bids. The germ bomb was hers.

"Thank you for that, Helen." Troy murmured.

"Just don't keep expecting it." Helen replied, taking hold of his hand for a moment. The bomb was wheeled away to an area where Helen would complete the transaction and take possession or arrange delivery of her purchases.

"Lot three." The Auctioneer continued, as a metal briefcase was wheeled out. "Briefcase-Contained Thermonuclear Device, 20-megaton yield. Can be triggered remotely or via timer. Completely undetectable by all modern scanning measures until everything is over. Shall we begin at fifty million?"

"Helen." Troy murmured.

"Troilus." Helen murmured back.

"I will bankrupt myself to keep that out of the hands of anyone here. Julie and I will live on the streets, unless Susan wants to take care of us, with nothing but our love and our briefcase nuke to keep us warm."

Helen sighed and raised her sign.