Brainrush 05 - Everlast 02: Ephemeral

by Bard, Richard

  “Do you really think they’re safe?”

  “Yeah, I do. Jake would’ve settled the others in a safe house. And by now I suspect he’s moving heaven and earth to find the rest of us.”

  “Right, that,” Becker said.

  Jonesy nodded.

  She studied the men, and was once again reminded of the loyalty Jake generated in others, herself included. He wouldn’t rest until he found her. Of that she had no doubt. “But what’s this all about?”

  The men exchanged a glance. “We don’t know,” Tony said. He reached under his chair and pulled out a stack of papers. “But it must have something to do with these. Found them on the coffee table.” He spread them out in front of her.

  They were copies of news articles. She blinked as she absorbed one headline after another, the past eight years rushing back to confront her—Jake’s viral YouTube video, the massacre at the Carnevale Ball in Venice, the launch of the obelisk from Battista’s mountain, and the urban warfare that followed in South Central Los Angeles. She absently rubbed her abdomen when she saw the report of the sterilization toxin discovered in the L.A. water system. Then there was the terrorist attack on Disneyland, and the coincidental timing of the nuclear explosion in Venezuela, and finally there was article after article about the Grid and the hundreds of thousands who died in the ensuing worldwide panic.

  She didn’t need to read the details. She’d been there. The others in the room all had, at one point or another. Thankfully, other than the first report about Jake’s superfast reflexes at Sammy’s Bar, none of their names were included in the articles. Grateful governments had done their part to keep their involvement out of the press. Even so, she cringed at seeing the events splayed out in front of her. An empathic pain flashed across her consciousness as she imagined how Jake would react to seeing this display.

  Jake’s legacy is so much more than all this. But he wouldn’t see it that way.

  “What’s it all mean?”

  “Good question,” Tony said. “We’ve been up all morning racking our brains, discussing each event, going over the details, trying to tie them to what’s happening. But no luck.”

  Becker added, “In any case, I’m guessing we’re going to find out pretty soon.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the puncture marks inside his own elbow. “Because they’ve obviously been juicing us at regular intervals. Until now.”

  She motioned toward the guards outside. “What about them?”

  “Worthless,” Tony said. “They won’t answer our questions. They refuse to even turn around to face us.”

  “Which is going to be a fatal mistake,” Becker said, gazing toward the foreboding landscape outside. “Because the fortress hasn’t been built that we can’t break out of. And once we’re in that jungle, I’ll own the bloody bastards.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We’re still working on it,” Tony said, gathering the papers into a stack. “But in the—”

  A woman screamed outside their door.

  Tony rushed to the window. Francesca and the others followed. Through the slats, she saw a well-dressed but disheveled Asian couple being dragged toward their doorway by four tough-looking men in black uniforms. Bystanders disappeared into their homes. The petite woman kicked the shin of one of the guards. He yelped and released his grip, and the woman clawed the second man’s face. He was taller and much wider than the other guards, with deep-set eyes squeezed between a jutting forehead and bulbous cheekbones. He barely moved as the woman jerked and twisted in his one-handed grip. He grinned and backhanded her so hard that she spun before hitting the ground. She lay still.

  Francesca could sense Tony’s fury beside her.

  The male captive shouted in Chinese, struggling furiously to free himself. The huge guard turned to face him. The prisoner shrieked an expletive and spit in the brute’s face. The guard unholstered a pistol and shot the man in the forehead. He flew backward onto the road, his eyes frozen open, his mouth agape.

  “Bloody hell,” Becker said, pounding his fist on the shutter. The guards at the door snapped around and raised their assault rifles.

  “Back away,” Jonesy said, grabbing Becker’s arm. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  Francesca and Tony stepped back as well, and the four of them waited in a semicircle, staring at the door. The latch clicked, the door crashed open, and the guard filled the frame, his smoking pistol leveled at them. He and Tony locked eyes like two bulls about to do battle. The nerves in Francesca’s body stood on edge. Tony finally relaxed his stance and averted his gaze.

  Satisfied he was in control, the guard stepped aside and gestured toward the men behind him. Two of them grabbed the woman’s arms and dragged her limp form onto the wooden porch. One of her sandals caught on the step and ripped from her foot. The guards ignored it as they hauled her over the threshold and dumped her onto the floor. They turned and left without a word, slamming the door behind them.

  Chapter 17

  Yóulóng Village

  FRANCESCA TOOK CHARGE. “Tony, get her on the couch. Jonesy, water and a damp cloth. Quick!”

  Tony carried her over and Becker propped her head with a pillow. The woman’s eyes fluttered open as Francesca wiped the soil from her bruised cheek. The woman jerked upright and swiveled her head. “Bohai, Bohai!”

  Francesca held the woman’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  Francesca shook her head.

  The woman looked from her to the surrounding men, and then her shoulders sagged and she buried her face in her hands. Her chest heaved with sobs. “Oh, dear Bo,” she said between sniffles. “I’m so sorry I got you involved.” She turned and cried into the pillow.

  Francesca caressed the woman’s long hair as she wept, trying to soothe her pain, as Francesca had done for so many others. Caring for others suited her; her empathic abilities induced a natural desire to comfort those around her. The men had moved away to give the women space and spoke among themselves around the table. At one point, Jonesy moved to one of the far windows and peeked through the slats. He headed back toward the others, nodding as he approached, and Francesca suspected they were formulating an escape plan.

  As the minutes passed, her thoughts traveled to Alex, and to the news the doctor had given her about her son. His last physical had uncovered an anomaly—his body was aging at triple the rate of a normal child. But unlike other fast-aging syndromes like Progeria, his condition wasn’t genetic. The doctor thought it was something Alex had acquired recently.

  The Grid...

  She’d been beside herself with despair, and the doctor had given her a high-dose prescription for something to ease her anxiety. She’d never taken such medications before but had decided it was time to start. She’d gone to the pharmacy to pick it up, planning to discuss what she’d learned with Jake that night. And then she’d been taken and brought here to a Chinese village. With no clue as to why, and with no idea where her husband and children were.

  Jake, I need you.

  The woman sat up. “Thank you,” she said, wiping her tears. She cupped Francesca’s hands and bowed her head. “My name is Lin and I am in your debt.” Her voice was soft, her manner demure.

  “And I am Francesca,” she said, studying Lin’s smooth features. Other than the bruise on her swollen cheek, the woman’s skin was smooth and she had classic Asian features. “I’m so sorry about Bohai.”

  “He was a good man. We worked together. He didn’t deserve to die.”

  “Glad you’re okay,” Tony said, walking over with the guys. “I’m Tony, this is Becker, and Jonesy.”

  Lin bowed her head. The men nodded and took seats across from the couch. Lin’s eyes lingered on the stack of papers on the coffee table.

  “You feel good enough to talk?” Tony asked.

  Lin nodded. Her voice was distant. “Yes, I imagine you have questions.”

  The men exchanged glances. “A few,” B
ecker said. “Starting with where we are and why we were brought here. Do you know?”

  “The village is called Yóulóng, which means swimming dragon, because it’s beside the river. We are in the center of Fujian province.”

  “Southern China,” Jonesy said.

  “As to why you were brought here...” Lin’s expression tightened. “I think it is for the same reason that Bohai—” Her voice caught; she blinked back a tear. “That I am here.” She leaned forward and fanned out the stack of articles, scanning the titles. She sat back, her eyes narrowed on Francesca. “You are his wife, aren’t you?”

  Francesca startled, her senses on alert. She glanced at the men, but the woman’s question didn’t seem to have troubled them. “How could you know that?”

  “Until a breakthrough in our research a week ago, I didn’t know that. But now I know much, and so do the people who stole my work.” Lin closed her eyes. “Francesca Bronson, maiden name Fellini, born and raised in Venice, Italy. Former psychologist and teacher from the Institute of Advanced Brain Studies.” She opened her eyes and pointed at the article about the massacre at the Carnevale Ball. “Until that happened.” Lin pulled the report about the explosion at Battista’s fortress and held it up for all to see. “And then this.” She looked at each of them, waving the paper. “When the first pyramid was launched from the mountain in Afghanistan, you were all there, yes?”

  Francesca and the others stilled.

  Tony said, “That’s not common knowledge.”

  “And I am not a common researcher.” Lin hesitated before adding, “Nor was Bohai. In any case, I believe that is why you are here. In fact, I’m certain that’s why I was brought here as well.” She turned to Francesca. “You see, there are those who blame your husband for the near-decimation of the human race.”

  Francesca jumped to her feet. “That’s not true! Jake was there but he was not responsible.”

  “So he was there,” Lin said under her breath. “I knew it.” She took Francesca’s hand, urging her to sit down. “Please, fear not. I am a friend. As I said, there are those who wish to blame Jake Bronson. I am not one of them.”

  Francesca sat.

  Lin continued. “I work for an organization that seeks the truth beyond his link to each of these events.” She motioned toward the articles. “We wish to unravel the global cover-up, to expose what really happened, to confirm that the so-called Grid—and the supposed alien threat—was nothing more than a grand scheme to plant fear in the masses in order to coalesce power in the hands of the shadow governments behind it all. You would know about such things, yes? You were there when the first pyramid was launched.”

  “Yes,” Francesca said. “I’m his wife and I will always stand by him. I was there from the beginning.” She snapped her lips closed, regretting the statement. They’d all agreed to never speak of the events to an outsider.

  “But you’ve got it all wrong,” Tony said to Lin, his voice angry. “Sure, I was there at each of these events. So was Beck, for that matter, and Jonesy later on, not to mention a slew of others.”

  Francesca frowned at him, but he kept blabbering.

  “We were there for Jake. Standing with him against impossible circumstances and even worse odds. His cause was just and we were willing to die to help him.” He grabbed the article about Battista’s mountain fortress and crumpled it in his fist. “We didn’t fly to the Middle East just for the hell of it. Battista was the man who started it all. His real name was Abdul Moham Abdali and the sucker was a new breed of terrorist. Hell, the son of a bitch came up with a plan to sterilize every woman in America! He wanted to take the entire Western world down. He kidnapped Francesca and her daughter, hauled them to Afghanistan, and threw ’em in a filthy cell. Me ’n’ Beck ’n’ Jake rescued them. That’s why we were there!” He tossed the wadded paper on the floor.

  Lin kept her cool. “And that’s when Jake launched the first pyramid?”

  Francesca tried to steer the conversation away. “Well, that’s—”

  “Yeah,” Tony said. “He triggered it, but not intentionally. Like I said, it was Battista.”

  “And the nuclear explosion in Venezuela? When Jake launched the second pyramid, you were all there as well?”

  “Right as rain, we were there,” Becker said.

  He seemed way too eager to join the conversation. His eyes were glassy, and Francesca knew something was off.

  Becker continued. “Except this time Battista’s gang held all of us captive. We barely escaped. That’s when Jake detonated the nuclear device.”

  Francesca cringed. No one was to know they’d been there. “Hold on—”

  “And the launch of the rest of the pyramids six years later?” Lin asked. “The worldwide Grid?”

  “That was the Order’s doing,” Tony said. “Under the leadership of a man named Victor Brun. He wanted to take down the entire human race—all except his chosen followers—and he triggered the Grid to make it happen.”

  Francesca said, “But—”

  “Jake had been in a coma for six years,” Tony plowed on. “When he woke he was a changed man. When his memory finally came back, he wanted nothing to do with the Grid. But the Order had other plans. They yanked him from his life and strapped a skullcap to his head, linking him to the objects.”

  Lin shook her head. “I can’t imagine what that did to him.”

  “He was angry as hell!” Tony said. “We all were! We were only too glad to help him.”

  “He communicated with them?”

  Francesca rose. “Tony, enough!”

  He ignored her. “Jake was the only man on the planet who could speak with the aliens.”

  Lin’s eyes twitched, and Francesca sensed a flash of excitement from her. Or was it satisfaction? The reaction alarmed her.

  “But we figured out where the Order’s headquarters were located,” Jonesy added. “That’s where I came in. I was part of the assault team that stormed their island. I was happy to take out the bleedin’ bastards.”

  Chapter 18

  Yóulóng Village

  AS HE WATCHED THE LIVE feed, Jiaolong’s gut boiled at the glee behind the young Australian’s comment about murdering Jiaolong’s mother and father—and my future.

  He clenched his fists, suppressing the urge to strangle the man with his bare hands.

  His own countrymen will tear him limb from limb when I’m through with him.

  Jiaolong shook it off and reminded himself of all that had been accomplished. Fate fortunes the bold. His mother had taught him that, and he believed she was looking down on him right now with a broad smile. He’d risked everything on his brazen move back to Hong Kong. He smirked, glancing toward Zhin. A move she ardently frowned upon.

  Giving his men an extra two minutes to capture Bronson before the conflagration had changed everything. Granted, his loyal soldiers had perished in the effort and that was unfortunate. But according to the report he’d received from his men on the scene, Bronson and TurboHacker were both still alive as a result. And to top it off, they’d saved a bunch of the greens in the process—

  Two of whom knew the location of this village.

  He sensed the pieces of the puzzle coming together. The greens would point Bronson in the right direction, the American would come looking for his wife and friends, and the jaws of the trap would collapse around them. Jiaolong lowered his earphones to his neck and relaxed into the leather couch, admiring Lin’s act from the multiple hidden-camera views on the wall monitors. The sacrifice of Bohai, the unwitting pawn, had worked its charms, and Lin had wormed her way into the captives’ confidence.

  Jiaolong was in a secure control room on the third floor of the Center. A trio of film editors sat at the console in front of him, excitement evident in their swift movements. Pak stood beside them, one hand on the console as he leaned forward to study one of their monitors.

  Zhin and Min watched from the corner of the room. They’d seemed standoffish since they’d arr
ived in the village. He’d deal with them, but not when everything was finally coming together.

  Pak turned around and smiled. “Sir, you have to see this. It’s only a rough cut but I think you will like it.”

  Donning his earphones, Jiaolong turned his attention to the central viewing screen, dominated by a static image of Tony. Jiaolong nodded and one of the editors started the video.

  Lin spoke in voice-over. “You were there when the first pyramid was launched?”

  “Sure,” Tony said, his voice raised in anger. “I was there at each of these events. So was Beck, for that matter, and Jonesy later on.”

  The video cut to quick shots of Becker and Jonesy nodding. Then back to Tony.

  “We were there for Jake,” Tony growled. “Standing with him.”

  A quick cut to Francesca, who appeared anxious.

  Tony said, “Hell, the sucker was a new breed of terrorist. He wanted to take the entire world down.”

  Jiaolong snorted at the edit.

  Francesca: “Yes, I was there from the beginning.”

  Tony: “His cause was just and we were willing to die to help him. He came up with a plan to sterilize every woman in the Middle East.”

  Lin: “And the nuclear explosion in Venezuela? When Jake launched the second pyramid—you were all there as well?”

  Becker: “Right as rain, we were there. That’s when Jake detonated the nuclear device.”

  Lin: “And the launch of the rest of the pyramids six years later? The worldwide Grid?”

  Tony: “He wanted to take down the entire human race—all except his chosen followers—and he triggered the Grid to make it happen. Jake was the only man on the planet who could speak with the aliens.”