Cybershot_An Empathic Detective Novel

by Jaxon Reed

  Bryce realized he might have felt like grimacing were it not for the drugs in his system. One woman was already dead, slumped in a corner. The other one seemed close to death.

  Montoya nodded at the soldiers surrounding the victims. They threw some sort of sheet or tarp over the women, and they “disappeared.”

  “That’s a nice innovation,” Bryce said. “I like how y’all extended the suits’ capabilities for hostage extraction.”

  Clark nodded, but kept his eyes on the monitor. He said, “Now we just need to incapacitate him.”

  Friedman said, “Shouldn’t you have done that first?”

  “Hostage safety is paramount, Agent Friedman. We don’t know—”

  On the video they heard Jacques speak.

  “Mama?”

  “Yes, Dear?”

  Montoya gave a signal to the soldiers near Phoebe.

  “Why is everybody . . .”

  Bryce could tell the soldiers carried what looked like a large loose bag. The details were hard to make out, even though everything could be “seen” from Montoya’s visor cam. The two soldiers spread it above Phoebe’s head and quickly pulled it down, then pulled Phoebe off her feet. In one swift motion she was inside the sack and invisible. They immediately hoisted her up and flew out of the room.

  “No!”

  Montoya turned back toward Jacques and everybody watched as the boy’s eyes flashed red.

  The picture rocked backward violently as Montoya slammed into the wall and fell to the floor.

  Clark jerked his head to the right, presumably listening to someone speaking at the Pentagon. Clark said, “We’re visible. He can see everyone in the room now.”

  “Looks like everybody is incapacitated,” Nguyen said.

  They watched from the skewed angle Montoya’s visor offered as Jacques looked down at one of the soldiers, snorted and said, “Hexenhammer.”

  Then he made a twisting motion with his hand.

  Clark tilted his head again, listening to someone at his location. He said, “Jefferson is gone. All vitals flatlined.”

  Jacques made another motion.

  Clark said, “Pak is out. Blast it, Montoya! Wake up!”

  As if hearing his superior, Montoya stirred.

  They heard somebody in the room shout, “No!”

  Clark said, “Andrews is back! So is Montoya!”

  The camera angle shifted momentarily, and a sidearm appeared in the lower right corner.

  Clark said, “Shoot him, Montoya!”

  Fzzzzzzzzzt!

  “Probably not going to work,” Friedman said. “The boy’s got telekinesis.”

  The colonel shot Friedman an annoyed glance, and Bryce realized Clark was not dosed up on Hexenhammer.

  Just as Friedman predicted, they watched as Jacques used the power of his mind to turn the gun on Montoya.

  Bryce said, “Brace yourself, Colonel.”

  Despite all his efforts, the barrel of the gun turned toward Montoya’s visor, filling up most of the screen.

  Fzz—

  The screen went dark.

  Over an open commlink they heard a woman’s voice. “This is Sergeant Andrews. I’m going back in. My suit is fully functional.”

  Clark said, “Negative, Sergeant. Retreat.”

  “Sir, Captain Montoya—”

  “Captain Montoya is dead, Sergeant. Return to the deployment site.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Bryce knew Andrews might have sounded different if she had the full capacity of her emotions. As it was, the tone of her voice seemed flat and inflectionless.

  “That was poorly planned out,” Friedman said.

  Clark’s head whipped toward the Europol agent, and Bryce could see the anger in his eyes even through the hologram.

  “All hostages were rescued.”

  Friedman nodded and said, “True. But at what cost? One was already dead. You lost three people and gave up your supersuits. And what do you think he’s going to do with the new toys you handed him, Colonel?”

  Clark’s eyes widened as he realized the full implications of Friedman’s statement.

  -+-

  Jacques dangled the body of one of the dead soldiers in the air, twirling it around as he inspected her suit up close. She was about his size. His mind scoped out the circuitry as he examined all the ways it worked.

  He said, “This is the most advanced piece of equipment I’ve even seen.”

  In the back, he found a zipper, and with his mind he pulled it down. When the suit was off the soldier, he let her corpse fall to the floor.

  He felt the suit’s strange material and held it up against him. He placed one leg in, experimentally. Then another. He put it on and zipped the back with his mind, then pulled the hood and visor down over his face.

  A holographic message flashed through his field of vision in red letters: UNAUTHORIZED USER.

  He smiled and reached out with his mind, exploring the neural pathways offered by the visor.

  The words winked out. They were replaced by new ones, in blue: TRAINING MODE.

  -+-

  Friedman said, “Perhaps you should get back in there, Colonel, before we have an invisible psychic terrorist on our hands.”

  Bryce watched Clark’s expression of annoyance deepen. He said, “I can do without snide remarks right now.”

  Clark’s head jerked to the right again as he listened to someone at his location. He turned back to face the others and said, “Pak’s suit is on the move. It’s been rebooted somehow.”

  Friedman said, “I told you so.”

  Nguyen said, “Where’s it going?”

  “Looks like it’s headed to your business district. I’ll patch the coordinates over.”

  The virtual monitor changed to show a map of the city with a flashing red dot headed downtown.

  Nguyen said, “Great. And we’re right in the middle of the South by Southwest music festival.”

  -+-

  Jacques commanded the suit to make him float, like he had seen the soldiers doing before they slammed into the wall. His feet lifted off the floor. He smiled. He had made other things float, and other people. But making himself float had proven difficult. He could slow his own fall and give himself a boost when he jumped, but he could not levitate.

  He turned and faced the broken windows. The suit followed his commands and he floated outside.

  Jacques looked down at the street far below, then he swiveled his head all around with a growing sense of wonder.

  “The technology must be similar to what they use in cars,” he said. “I wonder if I can go as fast as a car?”

  He spread his arms out wide and commanded the suit to go faster. The wind whipped by his visor as he sailed through the air.

  He laughed and shouted, “I’m flying!”

  In the distance he saw a giant outdoor stage surrounded by people. He shifted direction and headed straight toward it.

  -+-

  Tensions have definitely increased at the Pentagon, Bryce thought.

  Clark seemed distracted, his hologram taking in more information back in Washington than he was able to deliver to them in real time.

  Nguyen said, “We’re going to need to take action, Colonel. Have your soldiers follow the suspect and engage. They’re the only ones who are going to be able to see him.”

  Clark looked at Nguyen for a moment, then nodded. He seemed to make an adjustment, and Bryce realized he was modifying his commlink.

  Clark said, “Sergeant Andrews, you are in charge. Track him and take him out.”

  Clark turned back to those present on the rooftop. He said, “In the meantime, I’ll try and get our civilian expert for these suits on the line. Maybe she can help us figure out the best way to stop him.”

  -+-

  The stage looked like an island in a sea of people. Thousands surrounded it as a rock band cranked out music to the accompaniment of lasers, lights, and a fog machine. Just as the song reached a crescendo, fire
works shot out from behind the stage, sending streaks of light and smoke into the air.

  Jacques floated down out of the sky, spread-eagled. Everybody looked up as he came in, and he realized he had not activated the suit’s invisibility function.

  The crowd roared its approval.

  Jacques laughed. He said, “They think I’m part of the show!”

  He landed on the stage. The singer, two guitarists, and the drummer all stared at him, mouths open.

  The singer, who had blue hair, a nose ring, and a thick British accent, said, “Who are you, mate?”

  Jacques turned around and faced the huge crowd. Everybody stared at him.

  He raised his arms. The crowd responded with a roar. Sheer adulation swept over the stage like a flood.

  “So, this is what it’s like to be a rock star.”

  He pointed his hand at the band members and said, “Play!”

  The notes to a new song strummed out of the speakers. The crowd cheered again.

  Jacques looked down at the sea of people and the crush of young women at the foot of the stage. He reached out with his mind and pulled six of them up out of the crowd.

  They squealed in delight and began to run forward. Just as security personnel rushed to intercept them, Jacques made a motion with his hand, freezing everyone in place.

  He said to the girls, “Dance!”

  They turned back to the crowd and began gyrating to the music. The roar of approval rushed in like a wave.

  -+-

  “Target is visible. He appears to be leading a rock concert.”

  Everyone on the rooftop stared at Sergeant Andrews’s video feed. Jacques stood in the middle of a stage with a rock band playing behind him and half a dozen girls dancing in front of him.

  The colonel said, “Hold your position, Sergeant. We’ve got a representative with the defense contractor who designed the suit on the line.”

  A moment later a new hologram appeared. Melody picked Bryce out of the crowd on the rooftop and raised her eyebrows. Obviously she had not foreseen much if anything about today, he reasoned. Otherwise she wouldn’t have shown any surprise.

  Clark said, “Everyone, this is Melody Bryce, Chief Executive of Central Texas Defense Technologies, formerly Texas RajDef. Ms. Bryce, thanks for joining us. Someone has absconded with one of our suits your firm makes. . .”

  Clark nodded toward the virtual monitor showing Jacques prancing about on the stage, smoke from the pyrotechnics floating across the cheering crowd.

  “The suits shouldn’t work for anyone they’re not attuned to,” Melody said.

  Her brows furrowed at the sight of Jacques, the girls around him dancing wildly, the band belting out music.

  Clark said, “Let’s just say this person has found a way to make it attune to himself. Now, what can we do to disable a rogue suit like that?”

  “That’s relatively easy while he’s visible if you’ve got a ray gun handy. One shot to the belt buckle will take out the power supply, rendering it useless.”

  The colonel nodded. He seemed to be listening to someone else at his physical location for a moment. Then he said, “Andrews, line up one of your people with a shot. Aim for the belt buckle and disable that suit. As soon as it’s taken out, execute Plan Alpha.”

  Melody looked over at Bryce again, catching his eye. He gave a slight shrug.

  -+-

  Four soldiers floated in the air, invisible, a quarter mile from the stage. The sounds of the concert carried easily through the air, along with cheers and excitement from the crowd.

  Andrews barked out orders to the other three soldiers. “You heard the man! Castello, find a rooftop and set your gun on maximum. Shoot on my mark. Salazar, prepare your weapon. You will fire it immediately after Castello fires his. Humphrey, you and I will go and retrieve the target once all weapons are fired. We rush in, grab him and head for home. Now move it!”

  The men hurried to prepare their weapons. Humphrey stayed put, floating in the air next to Andrews. Both women looked at each other. Through their visors they could make out dim outlines of one another. Neither one said a word.

  Andrews turned and looked at the closest rooftop. The two men perched there with their weapons. Castello aimed a wicked looking, long black ray gun complete with a high-tech scope. He would be able to zap a bug up to a klick away with the weapon. She remembered its official Army designation: the M105-RG. The ‘RG’ stood for “Ray Gun.”

  Beside Castello, shimmering in a barely-visible outline of his own, Salazar aimed something resembling an old-fashioned bazooka at the stage. This, Andrews knew, was an RPG-103 Kovar, named partly in honor for its predecessor. Designed and built in Poland, it was capable of effectively delivering rocket-powered grenades at distances exceeding half a kilometer.

  Andrews said, “On my mark, men.”

  She returned her attention to the stage and mentally adjusted her visor’s field of vision, zooming in on the target as he continued to prance about.

  “Do you have a shot, Castello?”

  “I have a shot, Sergeant.”

  “Take it.”

  Castello squeezed his trigger and a bolt of energy zapped out from the muzzle of his gun, streaking to the stage half a mile away where Jacques stood before the crowd with his arms raised.

  The bolt struck the powerpack at the suits’ middle. It exploded with a sudden burst of energy, sending Jacques flying backward.

  Andrews said, “Now, Salazar!”

  Salazar fired the RPG-103 Kovar and an oblong grenade shot out of the tube, quickly arcing across the distance to the stage with a plume of fire at its tail. It hit about ten feet from where Jacques lay sprawled on his back and exploded, sending a huge cloud of gas mushrooming out in all directions.

  Andrews looked back at the dim outline of Sergeant Humphrey next to her. She nodded at the other woman and said, “Let’s go!”

  They both flew off toward the stage at full speed.

  Andrews said, “He should have several lungsful by the time we get there.”

  As they approached, the scene looked hazy with gas. Everyone on the stage was passed out, including the dancing girls and band members. The crowd surged away from the rapidly expanding cloud. Panic set in quickly as people screamed and trampled over one another to escape the gas.

  Andrews ignored the growing chaos and focused on the prone figure of the boy wearing a disabled ghostsuit.

  She landed on his right side, Humphrey on the left. Andrews pulled out a large containment bag and gave one end to Humphrey. They knelt down and started from the head, quickly pulling the bag over his body.

  Humphrey pulled the ripcord tight, and Andrews clicked the power source on the bag, activating its invisibility feature. Jacques disappeared.

  Together, the two women hoisted the bag up, then flew away from the stage and the growing pandemonium below.

  10

  As members of the Ghost Corp approached the staging point on the roof, another military team sprang into action. An Army transport landed nearby and 20 soldiers exited, creating a perimeter.

  Nguyen turned to Clark, whose hologram showed him deep in conversation with someone on another line.

  Nguyen said, “This is a federal law enforcement operation, Colonel. Thanks for your assistance in capturing the suspect, but we’ll take him into custody at this point.”

  Clark held a “one moment” finger up and continued with the other conversation.

  Finally he turned to Nguyen and said, “Our superiors have been discussing the situation, Director. We are taking him to a facility at Ft. Hood.”

  Nguyen received a call on another line, and those physically present watched as he turned away. He made a circular motion with his hand, creating a zone of privacy. He proceeded to hold a highly animated conversation with somebody. Bryce suspected Nguyen would use his persuasive skills to their full extent.

  Meanwhile Clark looked at Melody’s hologram. He said, “Thank you, Ms. Bryce, for your as
sistance. You’re free to go.”

  Melody gave one more apprehensive look at Bryce before the connection was cut and her hologram winked out of existence.

  Friedman approached Clark and said, “Colonel, I thought the plan was to eliminate the suspect, not apprehend him. What is this talk about bringing him to a holding facility?”

  Clark frowned at him and said, “I’m sorry. Who are you, again?”

  “Noam Friedman, Europol. I’m here in an advisory capacity for the FBI. You have a Level Three psychic on your hands, Colonel. You don’t want to try and hold this person for any length of time. He needs to be eliminated, ASAP.”

  “If we need your assistance or have any questions, Mr. Friedman, we’ll be sure and call you.”

  Clark pointedly turned his attention away. Friedman stepped back and shot a glance behind him. Bryce and Parker had listened to the conversation. Friedman turned back toward Nguyen, who remained engaged in a private conversation. Bryce suspected Friedman would appeal to the diminutive director at the next opportunity.

  Nguyen finished abruptly, twirled his fingers in the air again to dismiss his privacy zone, and returned to the group.

  He said, “Colonel, our superiors in Washington have reached a compromise. The Army will hold him in a facility the government owns outside the city. Your people will guard the suspect and the building will be under your command. Our people will retain access to the premises and the suspect. The location will fall under your direct supervision, or whoever you place in command.”

  The Colonel’s face crinkled in a frown, and Bryce could tell even without his powers that Clark did not like the compromise. He turned his head as he received new information from somebody at his physical location that the others could not hear.

  After a moment he turned back to Nguyen and said, “Alright, Director. I’ve just received word from my superiors confirming what you have told me. Give the coordinates to Sergeant Andrews when she arrives with the subject.”