A broad grin struck her face. “I’m game.”
“No experiments,” said Hawk severely. “Make some contingency plans, but I don’t want any of you leaping off the balcony while I’m gone.”
“Spoilsport,” Hummer muttered.
“If I’m not back before curfew, consider me lost,” Hawk said. “I’m not going to take a room key with me. I’ll knock. Three taps means ‘open up,’ and five means ‘make a run for it.’ Check the door if you only hear three taps, though, and don’t you dare open it for anyone else but me!”
“What if we get hungry?” Honey asked.
“There’s a fridge full of snacks there, and don’t think I don’t know about the stash you have hidden in your bag.”
She huffed. “That’s for Happy.”
Her mention of their youngest sibling caused Hawk to turn his direction. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked. The little boy nodded. “Okay. Don’t go wandering off. You really scared us earlier. We want you to stay safe. Try and keep Honey and Hummer out of trouble while I’m gone too, okay?”
Happy nodded solemnly.
Hawk spared a final glance over the three younger children before he turned to the door.
“Be careful,” Hummer said impulsively. “If you don’t come back, we’ll have to come find you.”
For the barest second, Hawk wanted to reassert his instructions, that they were to get out of the city by whatever means possible if he didn’t return, but he was able to recognize the note of concern in Hummer’s voice. They were taking a risk, and perhaps an unnecessary one.
“I’ll come back,” he said, but he kept his back to them so that they couldn’t see the misgivings on his face.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and two small pairs of arms wrapped around him, nearly bowling him over. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” said Honey, penitent of her earlier insistence. “We can ride trains from here to the end of the world if you want.” Next to her, Happy nodded.
“No, I think you were right the first time,” Hawk said slowly, “and not just because it was you that was saying it, Honey. We’ve only gotten this far by taking chances. We can’t play it safe and expect the information we want just to drop in our laps. Paul Reynolds is a higher risk to contact, but he might know something about Mom and Dad. If anything looks shady, I’ll get out immediately, okay?”
Honey nodded and detached herself. Happy followed her actions, like he usually did. Hawk made eye contact with Hummer. “Take care,” he said, and Hummer bobbed his head in curt response.
There was no other fanfare to his departure. He sedately left the hotel room and took the elevator down to the lobby. Butterflies rustled in his stomach at the task that lay ahead, but it was easier to go alone than it would be to bring everyone. Ever since NPNN had begun to circulate the story of Maddie and Alex North, Hawk had been on his guard for well-meaning citizens, fearful that someone would notice his little brother and sister and report their presence. He knew perfectly well that the fake details of the kidnapping had been concocted as a means of tracking their movements, but that was all the more reason to keep Honey and Happy out of public. No one was looking for him or Hummer.
That detail worried him as well. It was as though the two of them had already ceased to exist. They had sealed their fate when they betrayed Prometheus. Vanishing was their only option, either by their own hands or by the hands of the authorities who sought to reclaim them.
Even with that knowledge, though, Hawk had no regrets. He would do it all over again if the circumstances aligned.
He crossed through the lobby, making only a quick stop at the concierge’s desk to collect a city map and a list of tourist attractions. He exited the hotel into the busy street beyond. One blessing of the green movement that had swept the nation a few decades earlier was that most cities now had bicycle tours and rentals as a unique way to see the sights. Paul Reynolds lived in a nearby suburb. The quickest way to get there would be by taxi, but Hawk was loath to spend that kind of money, and he didn’t want to garner the attention that a taxi would receive in a residential neighborhood. By bicycle, the trip would take longer and require more physical exertion, but he would blend in much better. Bicycles were ubiquitous, after all.
Besides, it wasn’t five o’clock yet, and from the information he and Hummer had taken from Prometheus, Reynolds was an office worker. If he worked typical hours, he wouldn’t even be home until close to six.
Revere swooped down from the sky as Hawk navigated to the nearest bicycle rental shop, just down the street from the hotel. The bird was particularly loyal, even though Hawk had told him several times that he could go on his own way.
With a raucous caw, the raven landed on the sidewalk and hopped alongside him, as if to ask where he was headed. Hawk told him. He had been able to communicate with birds for as long as he could remember, but he found the process difficult to explain to others. It was like speaking a different language, except with feelings instead of words. Birds were fairly simple-minded: they knew instinctively who to trust and who not to, and they were protective of their own. Revere, more intelligent than the average sparrow, also proved extremely useful in surveillance. Hawk smiled as the bird willingly tagged along.
He rented the bike without any difficulty. The teenaged clerk behind the counter didn’t give him a second glance as he took the required deposit and handed over the state-mandated helmet that Hawk would have to wear. He gave him a map of local tourist sites, an extra brochure for the shop (with its operating hours circled to remind him that his bicycle was due back at nine o’clock), and the bicycle itself. Hawk immediately swung his leg over the frame and rode from the yard.
The saying “like riding a bicycle” turned out to be true. Hawk recalled the carefree days of his childhood, when his father had taught him how to ride, when he and Hummer had freely roamed their little neighborhood.
Prometheus didn’t allow its students to have such unnecessary things as bicycles. There was a stationary bike among the exercise equipment in the school’s gym, but nothing else. The administrators were likely too scared that their kids would explore beyond the tall Institute fences, so it had been more than four years since Hawk had ridden.
He followed traffic, attaching himself to one pack of cyclists or another as he made his way in the general direction that he wanted to go. Occasionally he would stop to consult a map, but for the most part he simply rode and enjoyed the novelty that such freedom provided.
As he neared his destination, he slowed and took in his surroundings more closely. There was a park near where his mom’s cousin lived. Hawk paused there to rest, and in the meantime he sent Revere ahead to scout the area. Some of the local birds found interest in the task and joined the great black raven. A couple of others were more interested in the human who had settled in their park and hopped over to the bench where he sat to chatter with him.
A black car passed the park and headed up the next street. Hawk’s heart sank. The shiny, waxed finish and tinted windows screamed that it was a government vehicle. He had seen many like it roll down the long driveway back at Prometheus-F. In fact, his original escape plan had involved stealing one until Hummer interjected with his bright idea of the History of Automotives jeep.
The presence of a government car here in the same neighborhood as their mother’s cousin meant that Paul Reynolds was under surveillance. It was close to five-thirty now. Hawk watched a few more cars pass as he waited for Revere and his new friends to return. Soon enough, the birds circled back and fluttered around him. They brought disheartening news: no fewer than four of the black sedans were in the area. There were also a couple of parked vehicles whose drivers were openly sitting, waiting.
Regardless of what radius the GCA had established around the Reynolds’s home, any contact with them tonight would be impossible. The GCA had surmised that he and his siblings had remained in Las Vegas, and their agents had staked out any place they might go.
&nbs
p; Paul Reynolds was too high a risk. With unhappy resignation, Hawk strapped his helmet back on and prepared to depart. As he climbed astride his bike, though, he caught sight of movement down at the end of the street: a man jogging with his large Labrador retriever, while a little boy rode alongside them, weaving back and forth on a bicycle of his own. Hawk’s first instinct was to flee, but one of the local birds told him the man lived in the neighborhood, and that he wasn’t associated with those interlopers in the sedans.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hawk murmured to himself. The chance that this was Paul Reynolds was slim, and even if it was, he would have at least three GCA tails following him on his evening jog.
Even so, he still wanted to catch a closer look at the man. He circled his bike to ride toward him rather than away, intending to pass by without a word and head back into the city. He pedaled slowly to give himself more time to study the man’s face.
As he neared, the man boldly called out to him. “Hey, kid!”
Hawk’s heart leapt into his throat as he braked. The birds that milled along the edge of the path took flight, and the little boy dismounted to play with the dog while his father ran forward. Hawk stood frozen to the spot, torn between outright fleeing and waiting to see what the man would say.
They stood perhaps ten paces apart. “You’re not from this neighborhood, are you,” the stranger said. “I saw you sitting here when I drove by a little while ago, thought I should check to see if you were still loitering around.”
“Why?” Hawk asked apprehensively.
“Because we like to keep an eye out for vandals in this area,” the man said with a good-natured smile, but then he added in a lower voice, “but more because you look like you could be my cousin’s kid. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to visit me at my house, though, would you?”
Paul Reynolds, Hawk thought in disbelief. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said aloud.
“I figured as much. Anyway, I just thought I should tell you to scram, and that you might want to look up Altair if you ever get the chance.”
Hawk’s eyes widened, but before he could ask any questions, Revere let out an urgent cry. The squeal of wheels on the road rang out. Hawk jumped onto the bike frame and pedaled in the opposite direction without a glance back to Paul Reynolds or his son. He hoped they would be safe, but he had his own safety to look after.
Dark cars circled around to the other side of the park, black-clad agents spilling from their depths. Above Hawk, Revere let out a cacophony of urgent cries, answered by chirps and jeers from the surrounding trees.
“Help me get through this, please,” Hawk begged. If he could get beyond the cars, into the neighborhoods and alleyways, he could disappear again. Out here in the open he was at a disadvantage, but the bicycle could fit through smaller, tighter spaces than their cars could.
A sedan stopped directly in front of his path. The back door opened, and out stepped a boy that Hawk recognized, followed by the young woman who was undoubtedly his handler. Hawk veered sharply to the side, legs pumping his pedals through the grass as shouts for him to stop rang in his ears.
Revere swooped away to dive-bomb the agents that ran after him.
“Help!” Hawk cried. “Please, help!”
A chorus of birds answered him. Crows, pigeons, grackles, and sparrows alike swarmed from their perches in the trees and surrounding areas. In flocks they followed Revere to rain down upon the government agents, instinctively protecting one of their own. Hawk’s bike hit pavement and his speed increased. He jetted easily between two sedans, between four agents who batted away their airborne attackers as they attempted to reclaim their vehicles.
Doors slammed behind him and engines roared to life. Wheels squealed into action, and still Hawk pressed forward. Above him, Revere returned with a loud cry. He glided down the street and veered into an alley. Hawk followed faithfully as the bird led him through twists and turns, down one alley, onto a new street, and then down another. His lungs were ready to burst as Revere landed ahead of him on a large garbage bin and cawed.
Grateful for the rest, Hawk skidded to a stop and quickly pulled the bike into a narrow space behind the bin. He crouched down, panting as he listened for any sound of his pursuers. He heard Revere take flight again, the bird intent upon acting as a diversion away from that spot.
Be careful. Hawk pressed that thought outward and knew that the raven understood his concern.
His hiding place allowed him only a narrow vantage point of the road beyond the alleyway. A couple of times he caught sight of a black sedan as it slowly rolled down the street. He tensed every time, terrified that they had tracked him, that they knew exactly where he was.
To his surprise, a sparrow hopped into the space and chirped a hello at him. Hawk returned the greeting, and pushed upon the tiny creature that he was in danger and hiding. The sparrow already knew. The black cars were circling the neighborhood, but they were getting further and further out in their search.
The GCA agents were afraid that he’d discovered an egress and was already beyond their reach, he realized. He only needed to be patient, and they would give up. Dusk would come soon, rendering their searches completely ineffective. He would make it out of this.
After an hour, Revere returned. The raven stood in front of the narrow entrance and cawed a request for Hawk to follow. Gingerly the boy unwrapped his stiff limbs from where he had huddled, and he rolled the bike out and remounted it. Revere flew off with a beckoning caw, and the little sparrow, who had kept Hawk company that whole time, chirped its goodbyes and fluttered away.
Their progress was slow-going. As Revere led the way, Hawk gradually became aware that there were birds perched on the corner of almost every building, each of them on the lookout for his pursuers. Sometimes they would chirp a warning, and he would hide again as a sedan turned the corner and drove by. Other times, he was able to ride with no problems. If any agents were out on foot looking for him, the birds had found a path that avoided all of them.
Eventually, he made his way back into the city proper and was able to blend in with the various bike tours and cyclists that still traversed the streets. The government sedans were gone, off on a wild goose chase, and he was safe again.
“Birds are such beautiful, amazing creatures,” Hawk murmured in gratitude.
Revere crowed an egotistical agreement.
Article II, Section 1
Sore Loser
July 3, 8:36pm pdt, GCA Regional Office, Las Vegas
“Argh!” Oliver picked up a book from the table and hurled it full force against the opposite wall. One corner of the spine struck the texture, leaving behind a visible indentation as the book tumbled to the ground.
“Why didn’t they listen to me?” he yelled. “I told them Hawk was alone! Why couldn’t they have hung back and followed him?”
Emily sat in silence on the couch, no less frustrated but content to allow Oliver to vent his frustration on her behalf. They had arrived in Las Vegas, only to be whisked into a waiting black sedan and taken directly to the suburb where the West children’s relative lived. The house was already under surveillance, as was the man himself. No suspicious phone calls had come either to his place of work or to his home, and there had been no reports of four children in the neighborhood. Nor had the national hotline received any word of Maddie or Alex North beyond the train station that afternoon.
For all they had known at the time, the West children had moved on to another city, had never intended to contact their mother’s cousin in the first place. As Oliver and Emily waited, the cousin, Paul Reynolds, had arrived home only to emerge from his house again in jogging attire, with his big yellow dog on a leash and his small son pulling a bicycle from the garage. Reynolds kissed his wife goodbye and started down the road.
When Oliver had turned an inquiring eye upon the agent who sat in the back of the sedan with them, the man explained that Reynolds jogged every evening, and usually took the dog and the b
oy along. “We’re having someone tail him with a surveillance camera, but it’s probably too early to hope for anything. Like I said, he’s still following his evening routine, and he’s had no outside contact yet.”
“That you know of,” said Oliver darkly.
The agent didn’t acknowledge this statement but instead produced a monitor for them to watch over their target. He jogged a leisurely path down the block and around the corner, where he headed towards a nearby park. A few other joggers and cyclists were there, and obviously there was nothing suspicious about a jogger heading to a park. It wasn’t until Oliver caught sight of one of the bicyclists that he sat up in alarm.
“That’s Hawk,” he said, with growing excitement. “What is he, stupid? Where are the others?”
Emily had leaned over to peer at the screen and caught her first glimpse of thirteen-year-old Hawk West, the boy who had orchestrated so much trouble for the Prometheus Institute, not to mention for her and Oliver. He looked anxious and innocent. For an instant she felt sorry for him, to be chased down by an agency that was so much more powerful than he was.
The agent had already grabbed his radio. “We have positive identification of Jefferson West. Intercept immediately!”
“Wait,” said Oliver. “He’s alone. Don’t intercept him. We can follow him back to the others and bring them all in at once!”
“We can force him to take us to the others once we’ve caught him,” said the agent. The driver had already accelerated down the road.
The radio crackled to life. “Target is on the move. Circle around to the south side of the park. All units move to intercept immediately.”
“You imbeciles,” cried Oliver. “He’s going to get away, and then you’ll have nothing!”
“He won’t get away from us. He’s outnumbered forty to one.”
While Emily was sympathetic to Oliver’s line of reasoning, even she could see that the fleeing target had little chance of getting beyond the park’s boundaries. He was surrounded, out-maneuvered. She watched his desperate pedaling as they circled around to cut off his retreat. Their sedan came to a stop and Oliver, in disgust, exited, followed quickly by Emily. Agents streamed from all corners, and the target veered off into the grass.
A Boy Called Hawk (Annals of Altair Book 1) Page 11
