“What do you mean over?” Devereaux said.
“Please don’t interrupt until I’m finished.”
He jerked backwards at Zoe’s response.
“There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll tell you what I know. I’ve just been informed that we have three agents dead at the safe house, and another in critical condition. Both of the synthetics are also dead. As of now, the trial is finished. Our priority is to get to the bottom of what happened.”
“Holy shit,” Cooley said, sitting up in his chair.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Merriweather spluttered.
Zoe looked across the table and tried to gauge the reaction of the XNA team. Devereaux appeared like he was trying to speak, but only succeeded in looking like a goldfish, opening and closing his mouth. Murphy stared straight back at her, blinking several times. Gray leaned forward, placed his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands together. He closed his eyes, then opened them, fixing on Zoe.
“What have you done to my synthetics?”
“Your synthetics? What about our agents? What have your freakoids done?” Cooley said, raising his voice.
“Hold on for just one second,” Devereaux said. “Do we know what happened? Did the safe house come under attack?”
“What have you done to my synthetics?” Gray repeated.
“Are they dead? Are they really dead?” Merriweather cried.
“Be quiet. All of you,” Zoe said. “I’m going there first thing tomorrow morning with Agent Cooley.” She looked across to him and he nodded. “We’re going to try to establish exactly what happened from the available evidence. Dr. Gray, can you think of any circumstances that would make your synthetics turn to violence?”
“No, unless one of your people made them do it. You said that an agent survived?”
“He’s in the hospital at the moment, under guard.”
“Has he said anything?” Devereaux asked.
“He lost consciousness.”
Merriweather gasped and cupped her hand over her mouth.
Gray raised his eyebrows. “We’ll help you in any way we can. Be assured, this is as much of a surprise to us as it is to you. I need to return to our facility and gather all available data. It might help you piece things together.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Cooley said. “What possible data can you get that will help us?”
“The trialists have been reporting back to us,” Murphy said. “We haven’t seen their communications since last night. I checked the data before going home and it was all good.”
“Reporting back to you? Data? How? We weren’t aware of any devices,” Cooley replied.
“We needed to track the performance and testing too. I’m surprised you didn’t know,” Gray said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell us. We don’t allow outside equipment into our safe houses.”
“Well, the director—” Devereaux said.
Zoe rested her palms on the table. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen next. Dr. Gray, you and your team will return to the facility and find out if you have any information that can be of help here. You are not to leave the country. Do you understand?”
Gray nodded.
“And if we’re not at fault, the trial continues?” Devereaux said.
Zoe shook her head. “Three agents are dead. What part of that do you not understand?”
“We’re letting them walk out of here?” Cooley said.
“It’s the director’s call,” Zoe said.
Cooley sat back and groaned.
“What about the bodies?” Murphy said.
“They’re being moved to a secure location. I’ll update you when I know more.”
Gray held up his hand as if to stop Murphy from replying. “We’ll fly straight back and get to work right away.”
“Have you got another one of those freaks on US soil?” Cooley said.
“No,” Gray said. “Not one.”
Zoe snapped her file shut. “Okay. This meeting is adjourned. We’ve all got work to do, so let’s get on with it.”
CHAPTER TEN
2:20 p.m., Day 2, Alaska
Jacob thought of what their next move should be while Emma and Brian sat on the sofa. They couldn’t stay around for too long, but they needed some way of estimating the threat level, if there even was one.
“I can’t leave,” Brian said. “I’ve got responsibilities and commitments.”
“Such as what?” Emma asked. “I’m sure the store can do without you on Saturday, at least until we know what’s going on.”
“There’s my comic. Phillip sent me the script earlier this week. I need to get that drawn and uploaded to the site. My fans will be furious if I don’t update it on time.”
“Your fans?” Jacob said. “Come off it, Bri. Your comic has fewer visitors than my blog does. You can work something out. It’s just a temporary thing until we can figure out who this woman is.”
Brian snorted with derision. “I’ll have you know, I have a growing, loyal audience, and they’re expecting that comic on time—every time. It’s what makes me a professional.”
“Okay, fine, you stay. They’ll find you. It won’t take them long to realize we’ve been drinking in the same bar for the past three years, or that you’re connected to me because of the articles you posted on my blog. How long do you think it’ll be before they’ve got your address and come visit you?”
Brian slumped on the sofa and pulled his greasy hair tighter into his ponytail.
“You communicate your point well, sir.”
“So where are we going?” Emma said.
Alerted by the sound of dogs barking, Jacob got up from the sofa and moved to his window. “I was thinking we could perhaps… shit…”
“What is it?”
“Someone’s outside.”
He brushed a drape to one side for a wider view, fully expecting a black SUV to be sitting there watching him. There was no such vehicle, just a couple of kids, the Coopers, playing out on the porch of the trailer opposite. They waved at him, but something else caught his attention. A woman in a trouser suit carrying a clipboard stepped away from an open doorway.
Jacob tracked her movements. She was just a few trailers away from his.
The woman arrived at his neighbor’s, Old Mary, and knocked on the door. Mary opened it and they began chatting. He couldn’t quite make out what was said, but it seemed friendly, owing to Mary’s guttural laugh. It sounded like she gargled with shrapnel and diesel.
Miss Clipboard casually looked Jacob’s way, making him dive back from the window.
“She’s seen me,” Jacob said.
“Who has?” Emma asked.
“Don’t know, some woman. Maybe the one Brian spoke to… okay, I’m not waiting around,” Jacob said. He grabbed a cordless phone from within the debris of papers and take-out boxes and dialed the local police station. He had it on speed dial.
“Sherriff’s office, how can I help?”
“Officer Mason? That you?”
“Yes, how can I help?”
“It’s Jacob—”
“Jacob Miller. What’s the problem now? Aliens abducted you and probed you with a unicorn?”
The jibe burned at Jacob’s patience. Mason was always the same, not taking him seriously, ignoring his accusations. This time, he had proof; he just needed a way to get it out.
“For your information, Officer Mason, I have evidence I want to present that implicates Julian Gray in—”
Mason sighed. “How many times are we going to travel this road, son? This is what, the fiftieth time you’ve called about Julian Gray? I warned you last week about wasting police time. Are you really pushing for me to send a car over there and arrest you?”
“No, I mean yes! Please send someone, I think Gray’s sent someone to get me.”
“Oh really? Is it a little green man? Or perhaps a light-saber-wielding Jedi?”
“Screw you, Mason; this is serious. T
his woman’s at my… Mason? You there?”
Jacob threw the phone down in disgust.
“He hung up. The bastard!”
“She’s coming over here,” Emma said.
He thought about calling the sheriff again, but it was too late. Miss Clipboard knocked twice.
Jacob froze, looking around the room, but for what? He had no idea what to do.
“Mr. Miller, can I have a minute of your time? I won’t keep you long.” The voice was upbeat, cheerful. It was a trap; he knew it.
She already knew he was there. He couldn’t just ignore her. She wouldn’t go away. He looked to his phone again—no chance of the police helping him now after that outburst, and what did he have, really? A blurry photo and a flash drive containing encrypted files that would prove he conspired to break and enter and steal from a corporation. He needed the information from the files first before the cops would give him the time to explain the situation.
“Who are you?” Jacob said. “What do you want?”
“Have you got a few moments to talk about Jesus?”
“What? Jesus? I… No, sorry, I’m not interested.”
“I won’t take long, Mr. Miller. Just a few moments is all the Lord asks.”
He waited a moment, but she wasn’t going anywhere. He knew from his own mother’s religious fervor that if she were indeed a religious type, she wouldn’t go easily. But what if she was a someone sent by Gray? Emma and Brian looked tense and stared at him from the sofa. Brian whispered, “It sounds like the woman I spoke to earlier.”
He thought about it objectively: he’d seen her go from trailer to trailer, which was hardly the covert actions of an assassin. And then there was the laughter from Old Mary, who was not known for her easy joviality. Most mornings she threw peanuts out of her window at Jacob as he walked into town. Her perma-scowl was probably responsible for curdling the milk.
“Mr. Miller, I’ll be quick. I—”
“Okay, hold on…”
“What are you doing?” Emma said, keeping her voice low. “She could be anyone. You can’t just let her in.”
Jacob stepped back away from the door. “We should go out the back, run,” he said, but looking at Brian and his near three-hundred-pound frame, knew he wasn’t going to outrun anyone. “Okay, maybe not. If we just ignore her, maybe she’ll go—”
Before he could get his final words out, the door handle started to turn. Did he lock the door when they came back? He rushed towards it, hand outstretched as the door flew open and the woman stepped through. She took one glance at Emma and Brian.
They stared back with wide eyes and open mouths.
The woman snapped her attention back to Jacob.
She tossed the clipboard casually to the floor and said, “You and I need to talk about your nighttime activities, Mr. Miller.”
***
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jacob said, standing his ground despite his heart racing.
The woman just smiled at him.
There was something ‘off’ about her. She seemed to stare right through him, scanning his very soul, all the while wearing a crooked grin.
“You stole something last night, Mr. Miller. Now, if you hand it over and sign this non-disclosure agreement, we can end this little episode without further… troubles.”
She reached into her fitted, gray wool suit jacket, pulled out a document, and handed it to him. He glanced at Emma and Brian. Neither gave him any indication of what to do. Both stared at the woman as if she were an alien.
The document was full of legalese about not divulging secrets or knowledge about XNA Industries or their technology.
“I think you’ll want to read the final paragraph, titled Consequences.”
Jacob scanned down the letter and read the section:
‘… Failure to uphold the principles and non-disclosure responsibilities as agreed will result in the termination of the Protection clause. Furthermore, the breaking of this agreement will activate the Retribution and Recovery protocol as outlined in subsection…’
Jacob took a step back from the woman, feeling the written threat waiting to manifest. She handed him a pen.
“Sign the NDA, hand over the stolen items, and all this will be considered over, Mr. Miller. I’m sure that’s what you want, isn’t it? For this to be over? I understand you’re young and eager. I understand you were a journalist and think you have a story. You’re intrigued, curious. I’m sure we all had those qualities. I know Mr. Gray certainly did, and look what a great figure within his field he has become.”
Jacob snatched the pen from her hand. “I know exactly what kind of man Gray has become.” He jabbed the pen into the NDA document before ripping it into quarters and throwing the pieces into the air. “I’ll never sell my silence to the likes of you and Gray. Now I suggest you leave…”
“Or else?”
Emma and Brian stood from the sofa, seemingly galvanized into action by Jacob’s bravery. They flanked her right-hand side, staring at her defiantly.
“This doesn’t have to get ugly,” Jacob said. “Just leave.”
He stepped forward, trying to assert some form of dominance.
Miss Clipboard didn’t budge, but her weight shifted to her left foot and her shoulders tensed.
Before anyone could react, she spun on her foot to face Emma and Brian. She grabbed the latter by the lapels of his ill-fitting biker’s jacket and threw him hard against the back of the trailer, knocking off dusty pictures. He hit the floor with a groan.
“You bitch!” Emma screamed as she swung a haymaker with her right hand. The woman easily dodged it and flashed out an impossibly fast forward-kick, striking Emma in the stomach and sending her flying back over the coffee table until she crashed into Jacob’s iMac. Emma’s fall broke the shelf, sending the computer crashing screen-first to the floor, breaking the glass.
“Emma!” Jacob tried to rush to her, but the woman grabbed his collar and pulled him back. She spun him round and lifted him by the throat with her free hand and flung him over the kitchen counter. He fell to the floor and cracked the back of his head against the fridge door. Red and black spots clouded his vision as a white-hot pain spread out around the back of his skull.
The woman locked the door then turned her attention to Emma, but when she got near, she ignored her and instead reached for Jacob’s computer. She lifted it up and smashed it on the coffee table before reaching into the exposed guts, ripping out the hard drive, which she crushed beneath her foot.
Emma moaned and tried to get up but received a kick to the chest that collapsed her to the floor.
A flush of adrenaline and pure anger fuelled Jacob. He stood up, grabbed the heavy chrome toaster from the back of the kitchen, and flung it at the woman.
It bounced with a clang off the back of her head.
She stumbled forward, reaching to the back of her head. Her hand came away covered in blood. Spinning around, she grimaced at Jacob. “Your time is up, Mr. Miller.”
Jacob reached into the sink and grabbed a plate.
He threw it at her like a Frisbee. She batted the first away, but the second one caught her square in the face, splitting the bridge of her nose. The third hit her in the forehead, opening up a deep cut.
Yet she still strode forward until she reached the kitchen counter that divided the room. Her hand jabbed out, catching Jacob in the throat and making him choke.
The woman followed up with a left hook, sending Jacob flying into the stove. He winced with the pain as his ribs struck the stove’s edge.
“We didn’t have to do this, Mr. Miller. And it’s not too late. Give me the flash drive and I’ll let you live.”
She vaulted over the counter and stood over Jacob like a cat stalking a mouse, trapping him in the corner. She raised her right leg, aiming a stiletto heel at his throat. “One stamp is all it’d take,” she said. “Flash drive, Mr. Miller. Now.”
“I… I…” He choked on his words, the fear and
pain making it difficult to think. He had to stall her somehow. He could feel the flash drive in his back pocket pressing against his hip.
Behind her, Jacob saw a flash of movement. Brian screamed and swung a broken lampstand, burying the jagged point into the back of the woman’s head.
She jerked before staggering back. She turned to face Brian, grabbing a broom propped against a cupboard and snapping it in half. She wielded the sharp edge like a spear, jabbing towards Jacob’s friend.
Emma pulled Brian away. She had a wooden leg from the coffee table in her hand and swung it furiously in front of her, catching the woman on her elbow.
“Sign the form!” the woman said.
“She’s totally insane,” Emma said.
Jacob noticed something strange on the back of her head. Where the lampstand had sliced open the skin, a pale pink thing throbbed and pulsated just beneath her skull. A trickle of blood dripped from this curious organ. It confirmed it: she was one of Gray’s.
The woman was frantically trying to ease the skin back over the exposed area, but her balance was off, and her speech was that of a drunken person. Random words were intermingled with out-of-order phrases.
She stumbled and swayed.
Jacob got to his feet, and while she was fending off Emma’s furious assault, he pushed his hand into the wound on the back of her head and yanked on the pulsating organ.
It came away with a wet tearing sound. She collapsed to the floor, cracking her head against the counter. Not a muscle moved or twitched.
The organ filled his palm. It no longer pulsated. Only a few drips of blood came from the end of a tubular extension from the main part, which was in the shape of a small pear.
A number of wires and organic strands protruded from both ends where it had connected into the woman’s body.
“What the hell is that?” Emma said, leaning against the counter, sweat glossing her face.
“I’ve no idea,” Jacob said, holding the thing out as if it were alive. “But it’s what I’ve been telling you all along: Gray’s been messing with people.”
“Holy crap, that’s not normal,” Brian added, panting and rubbing his back.
“No shit, Sherlock!” Jacob said. He puffed his cheeks and placed the organ on a chair. “How are you two, okay?”
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