“What does any of that have to do with me?
“When Harvey set out to deceive both you and Graybeard he set in motion a scenario where both of you chased him. When he became stuck in the sinkhole, a random but frequent occurrence, a fourth element was introduced. Andy Crawley showed up to rescue him and the gold that he was trying to get away with. Then both you and Graybeard hunted Crawley and each other.”
He shrugged. “As far as the algorithms are concerned, it is all part of the storyline. The way in which Harvey obtained knowledge of the gold’s location became moot as other events unfolded. The only issue would have been with Harvey, who could not himself directly cash it out. That’s why he needed Crawley.”
“Agent Wu, as fascinating as all of this is, I still don’t get how it involves me with the Yank authorities.”
“We need your help.”
“To do what?”
“What Graybeard told you about the kidnapped woman is true. Fortunately, she has been found and is in no current danger.”
Haus tried not to let his digital first-person expression give away his surprise that Wu knew what Graybeard had told him. Apparently, his recent conversation with his treacherous former Outfitter was known to the agent.
“Then why not just wrap this up?”
“Because we don’t have Graybeard or his accomplice in physical custody in the real world yet. If he finds out that his leverage is no more he might decide to flee from whatever pod he is using and disappear.”
“Digital Adventures can’t trace him. I mean, if you ask them to?”
“We’ve already examined their systems. They could identify the account, but it would be an alias. Digital Adventures’ dirty little open secret is they allow rogue players to enter the sim for free by leaving phantom accounts out there ripe for the hacking, like the one you are using. I can identify all your data, but it is fake, even linking back into a phantom pod system. It all adds to the mysteriousness of the Outfits and makes the storyline more interesting. Increasing the variables and therefore creating greater random chaos.”
“So, you need me to keep Graybeard busy, focused on what I’m doing, to buy more time to find him in the real world?”
“Exactly, the same with Crawley, except he is not privy to this information.”
“You don’t trust him?”
“We do, but it’s better if he plays out the storyline. He is currently doing everything he can practically do to slow down the extraction of the gold; he is working with us on that aspect. We don’t want him only to make decisions that keep Graybeard in the sim.”
“Bit dodgy, not telling the bloke that his girl is safe.”
It took Wu a fraction of a second to translate Haus’s New Zealand diction.
“He understands that his role, no matter what, is to delay Graybeard as long as possible. At the first opportunity when it no longer will affect the storyline he will be informed.”
Haus grinned. “What the hell. If I can get a fair trophy and see Graybeard or whoever he is hauled off, I’ll help.”
Chapter Fifty
The mechanical spaces for the Heritage Square complex were more like tunnels than spaces. Huge boilers, air handlers, and pumps lined several corridors that the group moved through. Extensive water and sewage pipes lined this way and that before splitting off into smaller pipes that joined electrical and data lines that went up some shafts, both vertical and horizontal, spread through the maze-like sub-basement.
Andy studied the layout in his HUD. He could not get a GPS signal down here but was able to mark his position from the bottom of the steps of the sub-basement. Andy went to one shaft and, grabbing onto a pipe, lifted himself up into it. Reaching into a pant cargo pocket, he removed the handheld torch and placed it against the side of the shaft before lighting it off and then cutting a small hole, maybe six inches by six inches, into the thin metal that lined the shaft. With the square completed, the metal fell to the bottom with a clang. Using the infrared light on his helmet, Andy peered into it. Nothing but concrete.
Andy consulted the building layout again. He was about to move to the opposite side of the shaft but stopped to check one more time. Grabbing the hologram that formed the blueprints suspended out in front of his facemask with his right hand, Andy rotated them ninety-degrees. He looked to his left as he slid his feet along the pipes to position himself in front of the steel on that side.
Andy fired up the torch. After it had cut for a few inches, it died out. Andy passed the torch down to Logan.
“I need a fresh one.”
Logan switched out the used one with a new torch handed to him by Hicks.
Andy lit up the new cutting tool and soon had made a similar hole. He peered inside the hole. Another shaft ran parallel to the one Andy occupied. Taking a closer look, the cables for an elevator against the other side came into view.
“This is it!”
Andy cut a hole large enough for them to pass through. After a half minute, the sheared off metal clanged down the elevator shaft.
Andy leaned in and peered down. The top of the lift, some twenty feet below was visible. The top escape hatch was open from where Keith and David had entered. Andy looked up the hidden shaft that went from the vault below the sub-basement to the penthouse some fourteen hundred feet or more above. Even with his night vision and infrared light, the shaft darkened as it disappeared with the elevator cables and steel guides moving into the black hole.
“Rappelling rope,” he called down.
Andy studied the space below and above. First, he would rappel down onto the elevator and then have a look inside. He intended on taking the gold and any other trophies up to the third floor where he would cut through the shaft. Below the third floor, concrete encased the shaft.
Andy grabbed the rope that was already tied off to a carabiner. He clipped a rappelling carabiner from the front of his tac vest around it then unfurled the rope down the shaft where it landed on the car’s roof.
“After I go down, send Anderson down to me. Then I need you to winch yourself up the cables to the third floor; it should be about fifty to sixty feet up. Cut out a hole large enough to look through. If it’s still concrete, you’ll need to go higher.”
“WILCO,” Logan said.
Andy leaped from the hole and pulled the rope behind him, braking to a stop just as he landed on the top of the elevator. He stepped aside as the newbie bounced off the wall a couple of times before landing next to him.
“You need to time it, so you do it in one leap. You’re quieter and faster that way.”
“Yes, Mr. Crawley.”
“As far as you have come today, you can call me Andy now.”
“Thanks, Andy.”
“Besides, this might be your last mission anyway.”
“Sir, er, Andy?”
“Look at the time, newbie.”
Anderson glanced at the countdown timer to sundown in his HUD -3:52.
“We’ve got almost four hours.”
“It’ll be at least an hour before we get out to the street. The sun will be angled down enough to cast shadows in the Alleyways and some of the streets. The DEVO’s will begin to stir, and as soon as they realize we’re out there, they will start to hunt us to the extent they can. It’s going to get loud and messy before we can get to relative safety. It’s all in the math Anderson.”
“Math?”
“Yeah, how far can we get with our ammo, cause there is never enough. Save a grenade for yourself.”
“Ah… yes, sir.”
“After you,” Andy dropped the rest of the rope laying on the elevator roof down into the interior.”
Andy stepped aside and watched as the Probie disappeared into the small car designed for no more than two people.
Andy was about to clip his carabiner back onto the rope when a blood curdling shriek echoed from the spaces beyond the open doors of the small elevator.
Andy thought it even as Anderson screamed it.
“DEVO’s!”
***
“What the hell is taking your boy so much time, Hatch?” Graybeard fumed at Ricky as he paced back and forth in front of the .50 caliber machine gun depressed from the turret and pointed in his general direction.”
Ricky, who had taken off his helmet to drink some water took a deep swig from the bottle, swished it around his mouth and then spit it out onto the pavement. He was enjoying the fact that he and his guys had plenty of cool water and other rations in their air-conditioned rigs. The Outfitters had neither air-conditioning nor water. They did not even have shade as they stood in the heat of the mid-afternoon sun radiating from the pavement and the concrete and steel canyons rising above them.
Ricky looked at Graybeard, smiled and then poured the remaining water over his head, rubbing it through his short hair before shaking it off. Ricky tossed the two-thirds empty water bottle to the street. The Day Breakers watched it roll away, but none of them would give the INFIL-scum the satisfaction of chasing after it.
“Well if you know Andy Crawley then you know how meticulous he is. You just don’t go down three stories into a DEVO’s nest, all willy-nilly and expect to come back with even your human life let alone any trophies.”
“How long we gonna wait?”
“How long you got?”
“Fucking INFIL-rats,” the big man stormed off.
The Day Breakers’ chief was already in a foul mood. Bowen was not answering his in-world sat-phone. It was the only way that Graybeard could communicate with him. While the sat-phone in his hand was just that, a phone. The only way for Bowen to connect with it was through a link on the phantom account that he utilized to go in-world. For that to happen, Bowen had to be online and logged into the interface that would allow such communication to occur.
Graybeard tried him again. No answer. He squinted in the bright sunlight at the pickup truck dwarfed by the two up-armored Humvees. The smaller vehicle’s only armament was a M249 light machine gun. Later, when the sun got low that vehicle with the light machine gun was his only way out. By contrast, the team rig was armored, and the rats inside would be behind that protection along with the .50 caliber machine gun with its exploding rounds, not to mention the Mark-19 Grenade launcher.
When he only had to go as far as the bunker, or even a sewer access that would not have been a problem. But now the bunker and probably the sewer were no longer options. They would have to travel and fight much farther to get back to Day Breaker turf and the bunkers there. It was likely that the Crewmen probably had other bunkers nearby. The three sitting on the curb in the shade behind the team rigs would know where they are. Graybeard imagined when the DEVO’s came out they would talk, maybe some gold would loosen their tongues. Crawley may have even done him a favor by stopping him from killing them.
But what if they’d rather turn DEVO’s, or asked the INFIL-rats for protection? It was an unknown and Graybeard was tired of all the unknowns always fucking up his plans. Not the least was the unknown of Haus. Graybeard looked back at Hatch leaning against his armored rig, helmet off and eyes closed, sunning himself and generally just being annoying.
From the conversations, he knew Hatch was with a bunch of green rats. If he grabbed him and threatened to slit his throat would they turn over one of the Humvees?
Graybeard strolled back to where he left Ricky. As he passed two of his crew seated in the front seat of the pickup truck he winked. The man in the driver’s seat didn’t know what was going down, but with the boss’s signal, he got ready to move. He nudged the Day Breaker next to him as he reached slowly for his shotgun. The passenger picked up on the queue and casually moved his hand down gripping the weapon laying between him and the door he cracked open.
Opening one eye, Ricky cast a bored look toward the muscular, large man approaching him.
Graybeard, splayed out his hands as he did to Clayton a couple of nights back as he closed the distance.
“Think we should at least move closer so we can raise them on the radio?”
“How many times do I have to tell you Graybeard—”
Ricky felt the cold steel of the blade against his throat. Where the hell did that knife come from?
Graybeard also felt something. The sharp point of a knife pushed against his abdomen held by the smaller man.
“Shall we start this dance?” Ricky smirked.
The smaller man nudged the sharp knife a little more into his larger foe. Graybeard had underestimated the experience and the speed that Ricky possessed; both of those things mattered. They more than mattered to the algorithms. Ricky like Andy had lots of success in the Dead Zone simulation. As such the powers that be, in this case, the algorithms made him stronger, faster and most importantly harder to kill. Graybeard was also quite accomplished in the simulation, but no more than Ricky’s equal, if even that. The individual watching the standoff through the rifle scope was superior to both. Only one other adventurer in this sim was his equal, Andy Crawley.
The cracking boom of a rifle shot broke the men apart as they both jumped back at the loud report of a .50 caliber round splitting the air. The assembled group watched in revulsion as the upper chest of the driver of the Day Breaker rig separated from the rest of his body in an explosion that splattered blood, bone, and flesh inside the cab and out. The passenger was only slightly more fortunate. He suffered shrapnel wounds from both the explosive round and bone splinters from his unlucky companion. The force of his partners exploding body pushed him out the already open door careening to the pavement screaming in pain and holding his head.
“Graybeard, this is Haus, you copy?”
The turrets of the Humvees rotated, scanning for a target. Ricky quickly donned his helmet.
“Hold your fire; he’s not hunting us, beside you’re going to need it for the DEVO’s later.”
“Roger that, OOD.” Came the reply from the two gunners.
“Graybeard, you copy?”
Graybeard ignored the radio as he moved to the pickup truck, trying not to show fear. If Haus wanted him, he’d be dead. Graybeard cursed himself for becoming so complacent, thinking Haus wouldn’t show; the gold it turned out, was too much of a temptation.
“Graybeard I know you can hear me. Sorry that I broke up the little love session with your mate there. It looked like it was about to get entertaining. But I can’t have him gutting you, that’s my job.”
Infuriated the Day Breaker boss looked at the mess inside his only rig, some of which spilled over onto the street. His gaze shifted to a part of his driver’s face laying on the road with the one present eye looking skyward.
Nodding to the bloody corpse, Graybeard barked at his crew. “Get him out of the rig, and someone take his place. Then move it up onto the sidewalk behind the team rigs.”
Two of the remaining four crew of the Day Breaker’s grabbed the body of the driver, a bloody stump from just above the sternum and pulled it out of the driver’s seat letting it fall to the pavement. An enormous amount of blood poured out of it as the white blown open rib cage poked out of it.
It was gruesome enough when the DEVO’s got blown apart, but then they were already horrible enough to begin with, some positively ghastly. But a human being hit by an exploding round was in a category of its own. Especially if it was someone you were just talking with and had developed a camaraderie.
The Junior Day Breaker took the dead man’s place sitting on the blood-stained seat. He quickly raced the rig up onto the sidewalk behind the Humvees on the other side from where the shot had come, and Graybeard waited with the rest; the armored vehicles between them and the sniper. The wounded Day Breaker sat down on the curb not far from the Crewmen prisoners. The blast had blinded him; he would be out of the fight until he got treatment.
The radio crackled. “That’s about what I’d expect from you Graybeard, cowering behind the INFIL-rig. Why don’t you come out into the street and fight me, mano-e-mano? Have your four remaining guys lay down their arms and we go at i
t mate. It will keep me from having to kill them one at a time first.”
The Crewmen prisoners jumped up and high-fived each other, while the three healthy Day Breakers looked at one another. If it wasn’t yet obvious to their boss, it was to them, staying in this Outfit was looking like a losing proposition.
Graybeard addressed them rather than answering his tormentor. “Those of you that are with me at the end get an equal share of the gold, Haus isn’t the sharing type, only the killing type.” Graybeard hoped that would tamper down any thoughts of mutiny. They were all in it to the end now.
Chapter Fifty-One
“I’ll be damned.” Deputy Jonah Styles glared at the young man from the RV that he talked to earlier, now pushing the scooter along the roadway.
The motorbike with its hybrid engine had run out of gasoline, and the battery died before Bowen could get it to a gas station. The 20-year-old man struggled to push the bike up the slight grade to the station about a quarter mile away.
Styles turned on his emergency lights and pulled his unit behind Bowen before blowing his air horn. The young man was now a wanted felon. Both for the stolen RV and the kidnapping and now attempted murder. Despite the suspect’s slight build, the deputy wasn’t going to take any chances.
Bowen turned, and his jaw dropped at the sight of the unit’s bright strobes flashing, and the deputy stepping from it; the same one that talked to him earlier. What the deputy did next frightened the young man who up until today had never been in trouble with the law. Indeed, quite the contrary, he was a good student and stayed out of trouble until pulled into an environment so seductive he would do anything to remain. The large handgun pointed directly at him drove home an unmistakable realization: that other life, the one he desired more than anything, was over.
Bowen dropped the 200-pound scooter, which fell toward him instead of away and knocked him to the ground. Bowen’s foot caught under the rear tire as he slid on his back and tried to get away from it.
METAVERSE GAMES: OMNIBUS Page 33
