by Eden Sharp
‘What did this guy look like?’
I described him but missed out the part about the interrogation and elevator encounter.
‘He was the one I originally hacked. Can’t believe he didn’t get burned. His name’s Cole. Not that it matters. He’s just a cog in the machine. But the files matter. It’s history that counts. The bigger picture exposed for all to see in some future court of public opinion. That’s where the change happens.’
I didn’t want to spend too long at Charlie’s and draw the attention of the FBI so I grabbed some food, changed again and holed up back in the hotel. I replayed everything over and over in my head. We were water tight on the escape but Guzek was on my mind. Too bad my hands were tied. With Cole, at least, I now had a name to a face.
I thought about the longer view, what Charlie had said about history as the judge. Hindsight was depressingly slow. It took decades for the scales to be removed from people’s eyes. But technology was moving fast. Quantum computing, on the horizon, might prove impossible to hack but flesh and bones hiding behind masks of skin not so much.
The military aside, there would be some future dawn when ordinary people merged with the net into one vast network of connectivity like the eastern traditions said. The hive mind, everybody as one.
Blood and bone evolving into zeroes and ones might actually be a step forward for humanity. But for now human beings were analog and, because of that, they could still be easily broken.
44
Monday May 22nd
I woke up before my alarm went off and began packing my bag for the last time. At one time the day seemed to be approaching too fast. Now I was glad to be leaving. I left the hooker clothes on the bed. Maybe they’d be recycled. I got dressed into my jeans and a clean tee and put on my jacket and boots.
I kept both of our new passports in my inside jacket pocket along with the medallion and put the rest of the things in my bag. Two dirty T-shirts, underwear, a toothbrush, hairbrush, my SIG and a pimped-out laptop. Almost all my worldly possessions. My cell phone chirped and vibrated simultaneously on the nightstand. Knox.
‘You want me to come with you this time for the pick up?’ he said.
‘I need to say goodbye John. I’m going alone.’
‘Okay. I’ll see you at the FBI building.’
‘Thanks.’
I took a taxi to my apartment building to pick up my car. We couldn’t hack traffic systems from a taxi and I’d really missed my ride. Also, it was easy to spot from the air. Part of the bait and switch for when we swapped out to other vehicles. I’d leave it somewhere Ollie could pick it up and keep it safe. For how long. I didn’t really know. I was hyper-alert and jacked up on adrenaline. Vigilant of everyone around me. Exhausting in a busy city.
Despite the CIA I made it across to Hudson Binomics. I stated who I was there to see and was directed to the building’s underground lot and given a number for a dedicated bay. I didn’t see any blacked out vehicles or federal looking town cars and it was almost comforting to have a security guard arrive to escort me up to the lobby. Like having another body between me and any potential guy in the shadows waiting to step out from behind one of the concrete pillars. Seems they had learned a thing or two and had upgraded their access protocols.
I told Becky I had a meeting with Charlie and she rang through to his office. I stared at the clock in the lobby as the minutes ticked by. A couple of times the door opened but no one who came through I recognized. The last person I wanted to see was Guzek.
I was starting to get antsy after watching the minute hand cycle round the clock face three times and then the door opened again and out stepped Charlie, alone. He gave me a reassuring smile and we walked over to the elevators. He hit the button to go down to the garage. When the doors opened I expected to see a group of guys dressed like Mormons in dark suits but the lot was empty.
We walked away from the elevators every step echoing off the concrete. I heard a swish behind me and slowed to turn around. The sound repeated as the elevator doors started to close and I caught the briefest glimpse of the back view of the person stepping inside. A man in a hat. The back of his neck. A wide head on broad shoulders. Occipital bone. Shaved. The swagger. Something beeped in my head.
I was almost in line with a pillar but Charlie was now a stride in front of me. I lunged for his back, grabbed a handful of his jacket and wrenched him backwards toward me and into my arms. Then. An incredible surge of white noise. A gyroscope pulling the horizon sideways and down. A bone crushing pain as something slammed into my hips and coccyx.
I felt a kinetic energy ricochet up my spine and I squinted into a seething white fog, the inside of my head ringing, teeth chewing on chalk and grit. I couldn’t see Charlie. Seconds ago he was with me, I was pulling him in, and now he was gone.
I tried to scramble to my feet, eyes blinking away a stinging dust, sounds distant like they were underwater, but a hot searing pain shot through my lower leg making me shudder. It hurt. I collapsed back down onto rocks and rebar. I no longer had the ability to move.
The whole scene around me had changed shape. The dimensions of the space had altered. The ceiling was only a few feet above me. Over to my left in the distance I thought I could see a glimmer of daylight. A hole out to the sky. Rubble and larger chunks of concrete created a gentle slope back down inside into the now shrunken space.
The gloom began to dissipate revealing a snow globe storm’s worth of dust like those reflected by the sun rays on a summer’s day. Everything was slowly clearing but nothing around me made any sense from a few moments ago.
Charlie appeared like a ghost in front of me, a filmy layer over his clothes and hair, panicked eyes. His lips were moving but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He pulled me up to sitting but I couldn’t straighten up or out and then I looked down at where he was staring and saw a large block of concrete, the rebar jutting out, spewed twisted metal, laying across my lower right leg and pinning me in place.
His words began to form. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Where are you hurt?’
The pallor in his face deepened to purple as he pulled at the lumpen obstacle trapping me. Nothing gave. He made two more attempts, his face straining but nothing moved.
He grabbed me under my arms and raised me to sitting but the angle was awkward and all I could think about was how much my back was killing me and if I couldn’t straighten all the way up he needed to set me down again.
Charlie drew me into him taking the stress off the muscles of my lower back. I appreciated the support. I put my arms around his neck, closed my eyes and rested my cheek against his shoulder, hanging there, letting him take the strain.
His lips moved against my ear.
‘I can’t move it. I need to get help.’
The moments before zoomed back into focus.
‘No. You need to get out of here, people will be on their way.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not leaving you.’ He pulled me into him a little more and the pressure on my back was relieved another notch. It felt good.
An eternity passed and I knew the opportunity for him to escape was disappearing.
‘I need you to go now. I’m going to be fine,’ I said.
‘I’m not leaving you,’ he repeated.
The words stung me as I completed the second part of a ghost sentence in my head, like you left me.
‘Angie? Angie?’ I opened my eyes at someone shouting my name. It wasn’t Charlie.
The light from the hole disappeared and then returned and Knox scrambled down the rubble to where we were.
Charlie pulled away and lowered me backwards.
‘Help me get this off her,’ he said.
I felt the weight lifting and realized how heavy the pressure had been. I tried retracting my leg from the space where it had been pinned. It moved but hurt like hell. My jeans were too tight to pull up and survey any damage but I knew it was only bruising, nothing to set or replace.
‘The FBI are
down the street, marking off a perimeter,’ Knox said.
I straightened myself up to sitting.
‘Let’s get you out of here,’ Knox said.
I shook my head. ‘Take Charlie out.’ I couldn’t bear to be the one handing him over. ‘Nothing’s broken. Just sore. I’ll make my own way in a minute. In my own time.’
John Knox
Knox motioned for Lau to go first and scrambled up the slope after him and into the sunlight. Took a good fresh lungful of air.
Lau ran his hands through his hair. Despite the film of white dust covering most of him making him look like a ghost, Lau moved with a quiet dignity but one that was a little defeated maybe. Eyes down.
The Feds had moved fast, clearing out the building and setting up a secure perimeter behind which Hudson’s employees had been assembled. A bomb disposal unit had been called. None of the Feds willing to put themselves at risk to enter the lot. It hadn’t been secure enough for them to be able to stop him though. He’d had no such qualms.
Closer in, the lead agents waited in a line for the handover watching while Knox walked Lau over. Knox saw Douglas and Marks were all smiles, heard a few claps and cheers as they made their approach.
‘You know I feel sorry for you,’ Lau said.
Knox was taken aback. ‘Yeah? Why’s that?’
Lau stared ahead at the line waiting to meet him then back directly at Knox.
‘Because people get attached to Angie. But Angie doesn’t get attached to people.’
McGlynn was standing, leaning against the remains of a concrete pillar for support. She looked defeated.
‘How’re you doing?’ Knox asked.
‘Fantastic,’ she said.
‘An inadequate question I know,’ Knox said. ‘What people say when there’s no good alternative.’
She smiled. But it soon faded.
It was also something you said when it was good to talk for the sake of it to take your mind off the situation you were in. It was bad enough for McGlynn but the smell of cordite was making Knox feel sick to his stomach and he’d learned a long time ago that keeping busy and focusing on others worked well at keeping the panic at bay.
‘Can you walk?’
‘Yes but it hurts enough that it might take me quite some time.’
‘Nothing else for it then.’
Knox hoisted her up and over his shoulder, like he’d done many times before in the past. No man left behind. He was grateful she was still alive. There appeared to be no blast injuries on the surface. Lucky with an explosion in such a confined space, but it was harder to tell what was going on, on the inside.
He scrambled up and over the rubble and came back out atop, glad of breathable air and lack of any sniper fire. Shifting his stance he placed her down gently before scooping her up in front of him again, one arm under hers his other under her knees.
As they got closer to the security line a group of agents began clapping again.
‘Looks like you get all the glory. Bringing in the bad guy, rescuing the girl,’ McGlynn said.
Knox slackened off his grip. ‘I could always drop you, take the shine off a little,’ he said.
EMTs had arrived and Knox reported in with the patient. He would feel a whole lot better when McGlynn had been assessed by a professional.
She was taken on board and wrapped in a blanket. He was offered a perch next to the gurney.
A paramedic looked inside her ears. ‘How’s your hearing,’ he said.
‘Okay but everything sounds like I’m underwater. There’s some ringing,’ she said.
‘Tympanic membrane’s intact,’ he said. ‘Eardrum. Any dizziness or headache?’
‘No.’
‘Can you remove your jacket please?’
McGlynn took off her jacket and handed it to Knox, giving him a look. ‘Hang on to this for me for a minute?’
He could feel the weight of it and felt the SIG she carried through the leather.
The EMT guy put a stethoscope against her back.
‘Problems breathing, or chest pain?’
‘No.’
‘We’ll need to do a more thorough exam at the hospital, check out that leg,’ he said.
‘No. We’re done,’ she said. ‘It’s just bruising. I’ll take care of it myself.’
‘Ma’am I’ve been told you’ve been in an explosion. Intense pressure changes can mean internal injuries, even brain trauma.’
‘You treat an Asian-American guy before me?’ McGlynn asked.
The medic nodded.
‘And how was he?’
‘Fine, but he was still taken in to get fully-assessed.’
‘I’m done here,’ she said. ‘Knox?’
He handed her the jacket. Knew it was better to pick his battles.
He helped her down to the pavement.
‘Where to?’
‘Jeff’s. He’ll make up one of his herbal concoctions to put on my leg and I’ll be fine in a couple of days. I don’t want to talk to Douglas or Marks or any of these guys either. If they want a statement? They can call me later.’
‘Roger that.’ Knox picked her up again and carried her over to his Dodge.
‘Fuck!’ she shouted. It came out in one long breath of extended consonants.
‘What?’
She looked back at the blast site. Her expression, pure rage. ‘They killed my fucking car.’
45
Angela McGlynn
Knox dropped me at Jeff’s and gave him a brief rundown of events but didn’t hang around too long once the fussing started. I told him I’d call him soon.
Jeff made me up a spot on the couch and went off to the kitchen to prepare some of the herbal stuff he used for healing. I went to get cleaned up and assess the damage to my leg.
I went upstairs backwards on my butt using my one good leg, a step at a time. I still kept some clothes in the closet of my old room. I peeled off my jeans which took some effort and put on a cotton summer kimono. A wide swathe of purple bruising surrounded by an orange halo cut across my right shin which had swelled. This accounted for the exertion in pulling my jeans off.
It definitely needed some of Jeff’s herbal medicine. He called it Dit Da Jow and normally used it for martial arts injuries. I didn’t know what was in it but it worked quickly and well. I came back down the same way I went up, bringing my jacket with me and flopped down on the couch, grateful for the extra pillows.
When Jeff reappeared he came armed with a tray which he placed down next to me on a coffee table. A variety of strong smells emanated from a tea bowl, soup bowl and from some kind of goop in a pot. He handed me tea which smelled of mint.
‘Fresh peppermint and lotus root juice boiled,’ he said. ‘Lotus root helps to stop bleeding.’
I took a sip. It wasn’t bad. The stuff worked but it didn’t always taste good.
‘What’s the other stuff?’
‘Peanut and Chinese red dates boiled with brown sugar. Replenishes blood and also stops various types of bleeding. Cover all the bases,’ he said, pointing at the soup.
He handed me the pot with the goop. ‘This is an analgesic liniment with myrrh and ginseng. It’ll stimulate circulation and reduce pain and swelling. Dit Da Jow allows the qi to flow freely and speed up healing. Rub it in every few hours.’
I sniffed it. It smelled awful.
‘How’re ya feelin’?’
The question didn’t sound inadequate when Jeff asked because he always cut right to it.
‘About Charlie or someone trying to blow us up?’
‘Well I already know you can take the pain. What’s the sitrep with the Company?’
‘Charlie took something of theirs and they want it back. They think I have it. We all need to watch our backs.’
‘The last one’s a given. Do you have what they want?’
‘Yes. But giving it back won’t solve anything.’
‘Never does. It never does.’
‘The FBI have Charlie in cu
stody until Paul spirits him away to work for the NSA and in the meantime I need to figure out a way through this.’
‘Stay here until you’re better. During the day, come to the dojo. Me, you, Kelly, Knox, some of the other guys? Safety in numbers.’
‘Good plan.’ It was good enough for now until I thought about next steps.
‘I’d kill for gumbo,’ I said. ‘Maybe some iced tea?’
‘You got it.’
I rubbed some of the liniment into my leg then lay back and closed my eyes for a while Jeff worked his magic in the kitchen.
I ran an inventory in my head. I had my gun and a phone. I still had the passports. I was severely pissed about my car. I pulled my jacket over to me. Maybe Jo’s medallion had done its job. I took out my cell and dialed Douglas. Time to get a few things off my chest. I was going to have to talk to them sooner or later and I definitely didn’t want them coming round.
Douglas took more than a few rings to answer which didn’t improve my mood.
‘What do you know?’ I asked.
‘Small explosive device, targeted at a company that’s about to expand so in the news. Possibly an activist with a beef about tech firms in the city. Lots of protests at the moment.’
‘That’s not it,’ I said. ‘Just before the blast the only person down in the garage apart from me and Lau was a guy called Tomas Guzek, Hudson’s boss. He was leaving the scene. I watched him get in the elevator.’
‘Lucky escape.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘He’s the CEO. Bound to be a target. Nothing unusual about him being in his place of work. The attack may well have been aimed at him. Could even have been an i9 member or supporter.’
‘i9 don’t go round blowing things up. It’s not their M.O.,’ I said. ‘I think you should look more closely at Guzek.’
