Savior Frequency (Frequency Series Book 1)

by Shane Scollins

  “But your laptop is Windows.”

  “That’s because I just bought it. Before that I had an old HP running Linux Fedora.”

  “So where do I look on this thing for files?”

  “Here.” Jordan took control of the computer and started navigating through the various files. “What should I be looking for?”

  “Bad Religion,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  This time she slowed her words, emphasizing the syllables. “Bad Religion”

  “Bad Religion,” Jordan repeated.

  “That’s what I said. It’s a band.”

  “I know B.R. I’m just shocked you do. They’re only my favorite band.”

  Kayci shot him a puzzled look. “You’re kidding?”

  “I never kid about Greg Graffin and the boys.”

  “They were my brother’s favorite band. He turned me onto them a few years ago. Anything he ever hid, he hid with some moniker of Bad Religion, the name of a CD or song usually. In this case, I’m not sure exactly what to look for, but it has to be B.R. song or CD title, or perhaps a lyric.”

  Jordan scanned the files. He put them in list format and set the mouse to scroll. He did a couple different searches. After about thirty seconds of scrolling, his eyes went right to a file marked American Jesus. It was the name of a Bad Religion song. He clicked it open, and inside that file were music files.

  As he explored the file extensions, one stood out. It was the song, Struck a Nerve, which was one of the more thought provoking songs on the CD. What was odd was that the song had been saved under the name Struck a Nerve Again. It was the wrong title. He clicked that one file, and it started a program launch.

  “Something’s happening.” Jordan twisted the laptop so Kayci could read.

  The green text-filled black window popped up and started rolling countless lines of code. It then stopped at a blinking cursor.

  She thought for a second. “What’s the first sentence of lyrics for that song? Josh loved lyrics.”

  Jordan thought for a second, hummed the tune, and said, “’There’s an old man on a city bus holding a candy cane, and it isn’t even Christmas.’”

  Kayci typed the lines out and sure enough, another box popped up with a message: Please Insert Drive. “What the hell is that?” she asked.

  “It wants an outside drive.” Jordan twisted his lips in thought.

  “The USB stick” They both said in unison.

  Kayci reached for the one USB stick that the Windows systems did not read. As soon as she plugged it into the port, the screen started to process several images and lines of code. Then, in the next instant, the data came clear.

  “Do you see that?” Kayci said. “We got it.”

  Jordan quickly followed the instructions on the prompts and saved the output back to the same USB stick.

  “We did it.” Kayci threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. He turned to her and kissed her on the lips.

  With a crash, the front window of the house exploded. A metal canister sailed off the kitchen counter and hit the floor, spinning wildly as gas hissed from the end of the device.

  In a blind instant, Kayci jumped up, and they started heading toward the back of the house.

  “The basement,” Jordan move fast as Kayci drew her weapon and face the front of the house.

  “Go,” she pushed Jordan from behind.

  Another canister blasted through another window and bounded down the hallway towards the empty bedroom. He ripped open the closet and the trapdoor that led to the basement.

  Down the stairs, he ran to the back of the basement toward the exit that led up into a shed that butted against the house. He looked back to Kayci, but she was not with him.

  Jordan sat in silence for a moment, waiting for the sounds of gunshots, but they never came. A scuffle and wild footsteps sounded off above him, and he slipped out the backdoor and up the steps into the shed.

  Problem now was he’d forgotten there was a padlock on the outside of the shed. He had no way out. Jordan reached in his pocket and took out the small LED on his keychain. He saw a hammer and saw on the shelf unit that took up one corner of the eight-by-ten shed. Those might be good weapons in a pinch. They could also break him out if needed.

  He switched off the light and let the darkness swallow him. Without any other external stimulation, he felt a sudden, strong pull. It was that same feeling he’d had when Kayci pulled him into that building. They were taking her out of the house. He wanted to run up there but knew he’d be making a deadly mistake.

  Jordan felt different in the darkness. Everything in his mind was so clear He knew what had happened, and he knew what he had to do. He could feel Kayci telling him not to panic.

  It was an odd experience. He saw things in his mind he could not explain. Not pictures or visions as one would expect, but something entirely different. He saw lines. Pulsing, jagged lines were streaming in his mind and vision.

  His body almost seemed to be a separate entity from his mind. He could feel his hands, his feet, his lips, and tongue. He could smell his sweat. Everything was there and intact, but he could literally just understand everything. He felt like two people in one. It was as if Kayci were in his mind with him, whispering voiceless instructions into his head.

  When he heard the vehicle speed away with a squeal, he moved from the shed and pulled up the metal basement doors. Hurrying down the crumbling concrete steps, he ran back to the basement and upstairs.

  There was no fear that anyone was in the house. He knew it was empty. Jordan felt his hand fisted in a ball, cramped and tight. Letting his fingers loose, he realized the USB stick was in his hand.

  He had no memory of grabbing it or of Kayci handing it to him. Nevertheless, it was here.

  In the living room, he looked to the table and saw the laptop was gone. So, too, were all the hard drives and other memory sticks. Jordan knew those items would do them no good. He had the key to unlock what they wanted. And if he had to, he would trade it for Kayci.

  The odd pull in his head was like a beacon. It wasn’t at all as he expected. He’d expected psychic images to flash or snap into his head. But, instead, all he saw were these odd-colored lines. In those lines of color was information. It came to him in streams of data he could only compare to computer binary code. Although it was not ones and zeros, but bumps and waves. He was seeing where they had taken Kayci.

  He looked out the window and saw the black SUV. It was there and seemingly untouched. Jordan looked around for the keys and went to the couch. The crack in the cushion called to him, and he stuffed his hand into the folds. His fingers fished around until he felt the metal ring. He hooked his index finger around the ring and pulled out the keys.

  “This psychic stuff is handy,” he murmured to himself, staring at the keys in amazement.

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second, and regained the connection to Kayci. Then he headed out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kayci seethed from the pain in her eyes, clamping them tightly. But nothing could assuage the pungent chemical smell of soap invading her nose and the bitter taste coating her tongue.

  “Does that sting?” Nathan said twisted the sponge soaked with the concoction over her head. He slapped her in the face with the large foot-long car washing sponge and pushed it into her mouth and nose, forcing her to aspirate.

  She spat out the soapy mixture and craned her neck to look up at him. “Fuck off!” She spat again. Nathan looked to his left where Avery Von Strieder stood in his light gray Armani suit, wearing his Cheshire cat smile.

  Avery nodded to Kayci. “My, my, my, my, my, such hate. For such a beautiful girl, you have an ugly mouth. Nathan, put some soap in that mouth.”

  Nathan grabbed a fistful of her soaked hair and yanked it back until her head hit the wall behind. He then smashed the sponge into her face, forcing it into her mouth.

  Kayci fought him, jerking her head side-to-side, tr
ying to break his grasp and that of the binds that held her to the chair. She reluctantly opened her mouth to take in some air. An involuntary garbled scream burst from her in protest. The soapy water invaded her mouth, made its way into her throat, and as she struggled to get air, some of the soapy mixture went into her lungs, causing a violent coughing fit.

  “C’mon, Kayci,” Nathan said. “You know how this is going to end, so just tell us what we want to know.”

  Kayci was usually nothing but an observer, but she knew how these games worked. She looked to Nathan, and he appeared unaffected. His short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair seemed to dance in the flickering lights. Kara Bush looked on happily, obviously delighting in Kayci’s torture entirely too much.

  Oddly, Avery was the only one who appeared to be somewhat concerned things had to take this turn. Though he was probably the man pulling these strings, she could tell it was not his first choice.

  Avery spoke in his over-pronounced diction, “If you cooperate,” his arms were straight at his side, “we’ll let Kara kill you quickly. And if what you tell us gets me what I want, then maybe we let your boyfriend live.”

  Nathan moved in close to her face. “C’mon, Kace, give it up. The game is over. You’ve lost. You had a good run, nice effort. Now admit defeat and give it up.” He softly brushed the wet hair from her face, his hand lingering too long. “C’mon, didn’t we have something special once?”

  Kayci looked up at him. “Why?” Her voice broke. An odd sadness took her. It was a feeling she had trouble understanding. Just a few seconds ago, she was defiant and knew she would get out of this alive. Now she felt ill, weak, just tired of the fight. As if this was finally the end of the road for her life.

  Then she knew Nathan was invading her mind, trying to break her. The torture had worked. It had distracted her from the fight in her mind.

  Nathan was a powerful psychic, the most powerful the NSA had ever cultivated. She was the only person even remotely close to his skill. But he’d already gained the upper hand. And just like in a real fight, psychic powers had to obey the laws of nature. Momentum had a lot to do with victory. Psychic powers had an ebb and flow just like everything else in life, and when he gained momentum on her, he was impossible to stop.

  Avery looked at her and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Kayci. All that matters now is that you give us the key. We want our payday and standing in the way will only delay the inevitable.”

  “And if I don’t?” Kayci had nothing to lose now but Jordan.

  Avery looked around. “If you don’t, we find your boyfriend, and we kill him slowly, right in front of you, here, in this unsatisfactory industrial basement. I don’t enjoy doing this, Kayci. You were one of my best agents. This was not my plan. Mr. Fletcher has decided he wants his own little play toys, so SORC needed to go. I’m not about to suffer the indignity of the private sector, making thirty thousand dollars as a retail manager, because as you know we cannot say where we worked or what we did.” He chuckled. “After all, my darling, none of us have a resume. You know how this goes and why these contingency plans exist. I just don’t understand why you went all ‘moment of conscious’ on us.”

  Kayci looked around the dingy white tile bathroom. Ductwork hung low above their heads, and the smell of melted plastic permeated the air.

  “I don’t have what you’re looking for,” Kayci said.

  Avery smiled at her and backhanded her across the face. His hand went to her neck, and he began choking her. This was not his style, and Kayci didn’t expect it. It smelled of desperation.

  Avery tried again. “Kayci, this is serious. We don’t have time to play games. We have forty-eight hours to get that money before the GAO finds it.” He released her neck then leaned in so close to her face she could taste his mint-saturated breath. “You see, Kayci, Mr. Fletcher, he’s an asshole. He thinks he’s going to live through this. But you’re going to kill him too.”

  “You bastard,” Kayci managed to utter.

  “Yes, I know. I hoped it would be you, me, Nathan. That’s why I gave us the keys. That was my mistake for trusting you. I was not going to be a pension fool, not with all I’ve given to this country, Kayci. No way was I going to have to watch my kids go to a state school or my wife drive some domestic piece-of-shit car. When the smoke is clear, Mr. Fletcher is going to die, and then you’re going to take your own life. Sad, I know, but he has it coming. You and Fletcher conspired together because of your affair spelled out on your agency-issued laptop. You were going to take the money and run away together. But I stopped you. And sure enough, the few extra million left over after we take what we want will be returned to the GAO, case closed with a neat bowtie, everyone lives happily ever after.”

  Avery stood upright and sniffed the air. He looked down at her with a smile. Then he reached his hand out and took hold of her neck again, squeezing her windpipe closed. She struggled for air, struggled to move. Just as her vision started to turn red and then black, he let go. She gasped hard for air, a huge deep breath followed by several short frantic ones.

  Avery turned to Nathan. “Can you lock in on the boyfriend’s broadcast?”

  Nathan closed his eyes for a split second. “He’s weak, but I think I know where he is.”

  Avery fixed the cuffs of his suit jacket and smoothed the wrinkles from the arms. “Go find him. Bring him back. I want to kill him in front of her. She’s going to need to see how serious I am.”

  Kayci felt a shudder and cold chills as Nathan broke the connection with her mind. She used every ounce of energy she could muster to try and send Jordan a message.

  The frequency plane was clogged terribly with everyone in this room trying to run interference. Once Nathan and Kara were gone, she would be able to get a lot more information passed to Jordan. She took a deep breath and faked sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jordan crouched behind one of the four huge boilers in the basement. He didn’t fully grasp how all this psychic stuff worked, but he was starting to get it a bit. Now that he was here, however, he had no idea what to do about it. He hoped he was in the right place, but there was no way to confirm these things in his head. He just had to trust the wavy lines and the stream of data they were providing.

  From the depths of the cavernous underground, he could hear voices and footfalls coming closer to him. He tensed and slowed his breathing to hear every faint sound.

  An medium-built man with short salt-and-pepper hair and a tall, thin woman with black hair approached his hiding spot. He had a clear view of them as they moved down the large corridor. They were coming toward him.

  In his mind he tried to make his wavy line appear smooth, no jagged peaks, just soft, snake-like humps. He didn’t know why he thought to do this or what it really meant, but he just knew what he had to do. He concentrated hard and made the soft curves hold steady as they pumped horizontally across the plane.

  Jordan held his breath in the shadows. They walked right by without seeing him in either reality. He watched them as they passed. Just as they were about to walk outside through the heavy steel door, the man stopped.

  Jordan gripped the gun, his fingers tightened around the pistol. Thankfully, he was practicing good trigger technique or he may have accidentally squeezed off a shot. The man appeared to be looking straight at him.

  “What’s up?” The girl stopped just outside the door.

  The man squinted and looked hard into the darkness past the neatly spaced security lights that provided the only glow in the dark concrete caves. “It’s nothing. I think she’s playing games with my head.”

  “Is she that good?”

  “And then some…don’t let your guard down around her. Always be engaged, because she will screw with your head.”

  They walked out the door. With each passing minute, Jordan could feel his ability expanding. Now if he closed his eyes, he could recreate that silence which allowed his mind to see. The strange, colored lines that fed him data were
constantly hovering in his head.

  Jordan moved out of the shadows into the open of the Silverman Plastics Factory basement. He knew nothing about the company, but he’d read the sign out front. The real estate sign said it was two hundred and fifty thousand square feet and thirteen acres of land came with the building if you had the cash. Judging by the way the weeds busted up through the asphalt in the parking lot, it’d been vacant for a while.

  Pipes, tubes, and wires swam about the place in every direction but down. Jordan had the feeling of being in that old computer screensaver with the pipes running in all directions, except no pretty colors. This place was one color, and although dank was not a color, if it were, this would be the international pallet.

  Walking quietly, he held the gun down at his side. He came to a four-way crossing, the nexus of the Universe perhaps, but probably not. Jordan could not sense which way to go. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and cleared his mind.

  Right, he turned right. As he headed down the next long hall, he came to a junction. He knew he had to go left. This hall was all clear, no pipes or wires, just a series of drains in the floor. He came to the end, and it opened into a space, but he couldn’t see in the room. A tall eight-foot wall obscured what lay beyond.

  Jordan closed his eyes again and tried to reach out to Kayci. A chill ran up his spine and cracked his brain, causing him to lose his balance for a second, but he quickly regained his equilibrium.

  Lines of colors streaked across the black, then one line streamed into his head, and in a burst of light, he could see the bathroom from Kayci’s perspective. This was a new and unexpected aspect. It was as if he pulled in Kayci’s broadcast directly from her retina to his brain.

  It was so odd. As if in a slow moving dream sequence, he looked around the room. A man stood across from him. He was wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Kayci said, breaking the long silence.

  Jordan was ripped away from the vision when she spoke. He raised his gun and prepared to change his life. He knew what he had to do, but he did not want to kill this man.