Infinity Born

by Douglas E. Richards

  Carr wouldn’t have found them if their investigations hadn’t converged at Melissa Jordan. He must have learned of her existence as well. Surely he would try to trade information for a chance to interrogate her.

  But Carr could never have guessed what they had just learned from Michael O’Banion, that she meant so much to her father she could be used as bait to catch him.

  It didn’t matter, Greshnev decided. He didn’t have to be able to predict Carr’s motivations. No matter how good the man was, he was unarmed, and couldn’t possibly wrest control of the situation from Greshnev and his six armed comrades. So while Greshnev was unconvinced of the value of Carr’s supposed information, there was no downside to letting him in.

  And they were currently in a long holding pattern, doing nothing but waiting for many hours until it was time to film Riley to prove to her father that she was still alive.

  Whatever Carr had in mind, it was bound to prove interesting. And just because the man had asked for safe passage back outside didn’t mean that Greshnev had to honor this request.

  25

  A gunshot cracked throughout the night sky and Carr reflexively looked down to see if blood was pouring out of his body. He had guessed Greshnev would let him in, but he couldn’t be certain. A gunshot would be the signal that he had won, but also the signal that he had lost: the only difference being the direction of the bullet—into the sky or into his heart.

  Carr breathed a sigh of relief that he was still standing and waited a good minute longer to be sure they had plenty of time to instruct the AI to let him through. Then, without any hesitation—having always been a “rip the Band-Aid off quickly” kind of guy—he barreled across the sensor threshold into death valley as if the sensors didn’t exist. When he once again found himself alive a moment later, he knew that they didn’t. At least not for him.

  As he reached the front door of the church it swung open and he entered. Four of Volkov’s men greeted him with raised automatic weapons while another frisked him, just in case the US had managed to come up with a way to fool weapons-sensing technology.

  “He’s clean,” said one of the men in Russian.

  “Welcome, Lieutenant Carr,” said Greshnev, appraising the man before him. “That took a lot of nerve.”

  “Thank you, Captain Greshnev,” he replied, equally cordial. “Before we begin, I was hoping you could report on the state of your prisoners’ health.”

  The corners of Greshnev’s mouth turned up in the hint of a smile. “Both are alive and well,” he said. “For the moment.”

  The Russian’s features hardened and he became decidedly more hostile. “I’m not sure what you think you can accomplish here, Lieutenant. But if you think I’m going to let you interrogate the girl, under any circumstances, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

  Carr barely kept his mouth from falling open, and he was lucky that Greshnev had glanced away or he would have seen Carr’s pupils dilate in utter shock.

  Interrogate the girl?

  Was the man just screwing with him?

  Carr looked deeply into the captain’s eyes and decided he was being deadly serious. Which meant Carr had gotten it all wrong.

  Could it really be true? Was Volkov after Riley Ridgeway and not David Bram?

  It seemed impossible. Bram was involved in AGI research. It was true that DNI’s intel report had concluded that, while Bram was brilliant and talented, there was nothing truly special about him, nothing to suggest he possessed either the skills or the resources to sabotage so many AGI efforts in ways that seemed indistinguishable from magic. Carr had ignored this part of the report, believing that Bram’s work in AGI couldn’t just be a coincidence.

  But maybe it could be.

  Maybe the beautiful farmer’s daughter was the special one.

  Carr shrugged. “Of course,” he said agreeably. “I wasn’t going to ask to interrogate the girl, anyway.”

  “Sure you weren’t,” said Greshnev. “But I really don’t care. Because it’s time for you to tell me what you came here to tell me.”

  Carr winced. “About that,” he said. “Turns out I lied. I have nothing to report.”

  Greshnev blinked rapidly in confusion and pointed his own weapon at Carr’s head, joining those of his comrades. “You really are out of your mind,” he said in disbelief. “Let me guess. You’re feeling suicidal, but you’re too, how you say it—chicken-shit—to jump off a bridge. Well, you’ve come to the right man for help.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not here for your assisted suicide services, Captain. But thanks. Instead, I’m here on a rescue mission. I need you to let me walk out of here with your two prisoners.”

  Greshnev shot him a look of contempt, but his expression became wary as he realized that any man who had Volkov’s respect wouldn’t say something so utterly preposterous without at least believing he could back it up. “Now why would I let you do that?” he asked.

  “I know they’re in the pastor’s office,” said Carr calmly, “which has been rigged to implode. I know I’ll need your cooperation to get them out alive. So let me give you some incentive.” He glanced at a monitor to get the time. “In six minutes, at eleven fifty exactly, two S-18 Marauder attack helicopters will be paying us a visit. Along with a civilian helo. I know you’re well versed in the impressive destructive capabilities of the Marauder. If the pilots don’t see me walk out of here with the two prisoners in tow, and make it beyond the sensor perimeter and your line of sight, they have orders to reduce this church to rubble.”

  “You’re bluffing,” said Greshnev.

  “Really, Captain? So you think my plan was to con my way in here and put myself at your mercy? Armed only with a bluff that you’ll be able to disprove in a few minutes? I can’t help but be insulted.”

  “I’m not saying you’re bluffing about the Marauders. I have no doubt they’re on their way. But if they destroy this church, you would die as well. More importantly, so would Melissa Jordan. How does that help anyone?”

  Melissa Jordan?

  Carr struggled to retain his focus, but how could he? He didn’t think anything could shock him more than learning Volkov’s plan to raid David Bram’s home had nothing to do with David Bram. But he had been wrong.

  If Riley Ridgeway really was Isaac Jordan’s missing daughter, long presumed dead, this was the ultimate shock. But even if this were true, how did she fit in?

  Carr knew he had no time to ponder this now. “We all die eventually,” he replied finally. “This is what we call mutually assured destruction. Perhaps it will turn out to be a suicide mission on my part, after all. Whether it is or not is entirely in your hands,” he added calmly.

  26

  Greshnev couldn’t believe the audacity of this man, but at minimum he couldn’t kill him until after eleven fifty. Not until he had seen if Carr’s attack helicopters had arrived on the scene as promised.

  Sure enough, three minutes later the unmistakable roar of three helos could be heard racing toward them, getting louder by the second. The two S-18 Marauders possessed advanced noise-canceling technology that allowed them to sneak up on a target in silence, but they had disabled this feature during their approach to the church. Carr had wanted their entrance to be as splashy as possible, for obvious reasons.

  But was the man really crazy enough to have military helos destroy a civilian building on American soil? And not just any building, but a church?

  Volkov had made sure his team had anti-aircraft munitions with them, but the Marauders were state of the art and could produce countermeasures that would nullify their efforts to destroy them.

  The major had considered the possibility that Isaac Jordan might be able to mount an attack that would be unstoppable, but had discounted this as a threat. After all, Jordan would know that any such attack would lead to the certain death of his daughter.

  But they hadn’t counted on Cameron Carr. He seemed to have little concern for Melissa’s life—or his own.

 
; Then, in a flash of insight, Greshnev realized that Carr must have been the man impersonating the FBI agent named Parker. Who else could it have been? He had captured Melissa Jordan first, but had lost her due to his own incompetence. That must have been embarrassing.

  Still, this didn’t change the current situation.

  Greshnev acknowledged the presence of the helicopters now hovering within a thick blanket of darkness overhead. “I still think you’re bluffing,” he said to Carr with far more confidence than he felt. “But I don’t see a need to put this to the test. Call off your guns and I’ll let you interrogate her, after all. Supervised, of course. Then, once you’re done, we can all part company.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” said Carr, “but I’m afraid I have to decline. Even if you let me interrogate her and walk, you’ll kill them both when you’re done. I can’t let you do that. But most importantly, I can’t call the pilots off. The order can’t be countermanded. Not by me. Not by the Lord Almighty himself.”

  “Impossible!” said Greshnev, noting that his comrades all looked as nervous as he felt. They had remained silent so far, respecting his authority. But this could well change, depending on how events unfolded. “You would never issue such a final order. Not if you had any chance to save yourself and Melissa Jordan.”

  “I had no other choice,” said Carr. “You’ve done too good a job here making rescue impossible. My only play was to be bold. To roll the dice and count on you to save your own lives. If I’m not safely away from here with the two prisoners by ten after midnight, which is about eighteen minutes away, the pilots have orders to bomb this church into the Stone Age. And you won’t be able to slink away. They also have orders to put down anyone trying to leave the party early.”

  Greshnev studied the American carefully, trying to get a read on him.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Captain Greshnev,” continued Carr. “I have no interest in dying here. If you chose not to cooperate, I probably would try to belay the strike order. That’s why I didn’t leave myself any outs. I have no way to communicate with the pilots. Even if I did, they’ve been told to consider me under duress and disregard anything I say.”

  Carr smiled grimly. “In America, this is a game that we call chicken.”

  He glanced at the monitor once again to check the time. “We now have sixteen minutes left to live.” He paused to let this sink in. “Your move, Captain.”

  “I’ll have to contact the major first.”

  “Why? His life isn’t in the balance. Would you really die here on his command?”

  Greshnev considered. It was a good question. “If I let you leave, what assurance do I have that you won’t kill me and my comrades once you’re safely away?”

  “Do you really think I want to use US military aircraft to annihilate a church in the middle of California? Once the prisoners and I are in the clear, the civilian helo will pick us up. I’ll order the other two away and temporarily cancel surveillance of you and your team. I’ll give you an hour to disappear off the radar before I attempt to track you again. You have my word.”

  “Your word?” said Greshnev in disgust. “What good is that? Didn’t you lie to get in here?”

  “I did lie,” said Carr. “But then again, I never gave you my word on anything. You know my reputation. When I strike a deal like this, I stick to it. We may well meet up again. We have similar goals, after all. We may even strike additional deals in the future, and I’ll want to count on you remembering that I lived up to my end of the bargain.”

  Greshnev tilted his head in thought.

  “Whatever you decide,” said Carr, “you need to decide in a hurry. We now have only thirteen minutes left. And I’m telling you, I can’t buy more time. If you agree to cooperate but can’t disarm the pastor’s office fast enough, your intent won’t matter. We all die.”

  Carr did appear to be getting nervous. Maybe he was merely acting, but he truly looked like a man who only had thirteen minutes left to live.

  “Yuri,” said Greshnev to one of the many men still holding the unarmed visitor at gunpoint, “come with me.”

  He walked rapidly to the pulpit and both men had a whispered exchange lasting less than a minute. Greshnev returned alone.

  “I haven’t made up my mind,” he said to Carr upon returning. “But Yuri is disarming the room and will bring the two prisoners here shortly. You do make a good point,” he allowed. “If you are telling the truth, it is better to have the prisoners ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

  “Good choice,” said Carr.

  Greshnev waited in silence for his comrade to return, deep in thought. Minute after minute rolled by. Finally, seven minutes later, Yuri came into view and escorted the prisoners to the church’s entrance to join the proceedings.

  The eyes of both newcomers widened in shock upon seeing Carr, but he gave his head a quick shake in a way that told them to remain silent. Not that this hadn’t provided Greshnev with further confirmation that the three had met before.

  “Are you sure they’ll want to go with you, Agent Parker?” said the Russian derisively. “Seems like the girl beat you up pretty badly the first time.”

  Carr ignored this attempted barb. “Five minutes left,” he announced pointedly.

  Greshnev blew out a long breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll let you and the prisoners go. Under one condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want my team to be off your surveillance radar for four hours, not one.”

  Carr nodded. “Agreed. You’ll have your four hours.”

  As incompetent as Carr had been to let the girl get away, Greshnev couldn’t help but admire how neatly he had managed this rescue. And he had come to believe Carr really wasn’t bluffing. If he couldn’t have Melissa Jordan, he was willing to give up his life to be sure no one else could, either.

  Assuming this was the case, no matter what decision Greshnev made, Volkov would fail to acquire Isaac Jordan. At least for now. If Greshnev refused to let Carr leave and they were all killed by the Marauders hovering overhead, Isaac Jordan wouldn’t have his proof-of-life footage, and wouldn’t give himself over to Volkov.

  If he let Melissa leave with Carr, the same would be true.

  But at least in this latter case, they would have the chance to reacquire her, possibly even in time to salvage the current plan. Jordan wasn’t scheduled to deliver himself to Volkov for sixteen hours yet. Even if they missed this window, while she was alive, they still had the chance to eventually use her to get to her father. A chance that her death would erase forever.

  The situation reminded Greshnev of an old cartoon he had seen as a kid, in which two rival dogs were fighting over a bone. Each dog designed ever more elaborate schemes to steal the bone from the other, and the bone changed possession numerous times, always in clever and humorous fashion.

  In this case, Carr had acquired the bone first, but this was simply the beginning.

  The back and forth had already begun. Carr had lost it to Volkov. Now, possession was returning to the American.

  And while Carr may have won this round, the dogfight was far from over.

  Greshnev motioned for one of his men to open the door. “We have a deal, then, Lieutenant,” he said, gesturing for him to go. “Just remember, we get four hours to disappear. Not a minute less.”

  “Not a minute less,” repeated Carr.

  Greshnev turned to one of his comrades. “Yuri,” he said, “do you still have the stunner you took from the girl?”

  The man nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Give it back to her.”

  He shot Carr a look of contempt. “Maybe she can use it to free herself from you a second time,” he added with a condescending smile.

  27

  Carr led his two prisoners through the darkness, lighting the way with the artificial lantern he had used to illuminate himself while waiting for Greshnev to spot him. He crossed through the tree line into the woods and pr
ogressed to another small clearing nearby, where the large civilian helo was waiting for them, with a military pilot dressed in civilian clothing its only inhabitant. After boarding, the three passengers all donned headphones so they could communicate without shouting.

  Bram began to speak, but Carr held out a forestalling hand. He removed an electronic wand from a rucksack on the floor of the helo and waved it along the entire length of their bodies. The wand identified two tiny, gnat-sized drones attached to their clothing, which he removed and placed in the palm of his right hand for his guests to see.

  “These aren’t bugs,” he explained. “They’re tracers. Tracking devices. I had a feeling this is how Volkov was able to find you so easily.”

  Carr made a show of tossing the homing beacons out of the helicopter, shut the door, and nodded at the pilot, who lifted the helo slowly into the sky to join its two lethal companions. As they moved off, the Marauders switched into stealth mode, which included flying with night vision rather than standard lights, although the civilian helicopter continued to use standard beams.

  Carr ordered the pilot to proceed at best speed toward Area 51, where Melanie Yoder was waiting. Dwyer would join them there as soon as he could.

  This base was secure and geographically convenient, and also inconspicuous, which was the most important consideration. Those working at Groom Lake knew to mind their own business. A wide variety of strange military and civilian aircraft, holding a wide variety of strange people, arrived or left Area 51 each day. As long as they had the proper clearance to be there, no one would ask any questions.

  And the base was secure, despite the recent demise of the supercomputer known as TUC. The investigation wasn’t complete, but it was now clear the base itself hadn’t been infiltrated by a saboteur. Instead, a third party had managed to hack the random self-destruct code, put there by Melanie Yoder herself as a fail-safe.

  Whoever had managed it should never have known the precise nature of this fail-safe. Even if they had, triggering it should have been impossible.