Brainrush 05 - Everlast 02: Ephemeral

by Bard, Richard

  Tuning the device itself took only a fraction of a second, though the built-in timer bar continued to count down from its thirty-second minimum. I used the extra time to scan through the folders and files on the computer. I wasn’t snooping or anything; it was just my brain’s way of getting adjusted to a new environment. I’d done the same thing during game play back home, when I’d recognized that a subliminal code of some sort was streaming from game headquarters. A part of my mind had automatically backtracked the signal to wherever the server was located. I’d arrived there instantaneously, but that didn’t necessarily mean the server was close to Redondo Beach. It could have been anywhere on the planet. I guessed it was a speed-of-light kind of thing. I hadn’t discovered anything interesting at the other end of the line, so I’d ignored it and gone back to playing the game. The point is, that was the same thing I was doing now, allowing my mind to roam through Ping’s computer, which turned out to be connected to a network that included the entire village and the nearby building that Little Star had called the Center.

  I stopped breathing when I heard my dad’s thoughts in the system.

  And then a screeching alarm sounded outside.

  ***

  Jiaolong sat enthralled as he listened to Jake speak with his grandfather three floors below. He and the sisters were holed up in the expansive control room on the top floor of the Center, their focus locked on the wall screen. Pak and his techs were also there, plus a half dozen guards. The rest of his soldiers were on standby in the barracks. Jake had taken the bait, and Jiaolong was immensely pleased that he’d been able to predict the American’s moves after all.

  He’d admitted to himself that the unexpected turn of events in Hong Kong had shaken him, but it hadn’t deterred him from his plan. He’d been certain the two greens would tell the American about this location, and he knew from the man’s history that nothing would stop him from following that lead to find his family and friends.

  It’s your predictable nature, Mr. Bronson, that will cost you this game.

  It had been a simple matter to lead the villagers to believe he and his people had departed in this morning’s caravan. It was all about bread crumbs, moving his pieces around the board in such a fashion as to lead the American down the only obvious path. To give Bronson hope, Jiaolong had held the adult captives in the village, where Bronson could easily discover their location. Then Jiaolong had laid the groundwork that would lead Bronson to believe his children were being held in the Center. Bronson would go there first.

  After that, Jiaolong had trusted the plight of his ailing grandfather to convince Bronson to do the right thing—to help Grandfather complete the transition into his new body. Hadn’t Jake wanted to help him in Amsterdam, before a cell phone message had spooked him? Jiaolong leaned forward as his grandfather’s tone softened.

  “I promise,” Grandfather’s voice said over the speaker. “There is no danger to you here.”

  Jiaolong read the hesitation in Bronson’s eyes and his stomach churned in anticipation. This was his only chance to save his last remaining blood relative. Admittedly, this was the part of the plan he wasn’t certain would pan out the way he hoped. It was a daunting task at best, even for someone with Bronson’s unusual abilities, so the man’s cooperation could mean the difference between success and failure. Of course, if Bronson refused to help, Jiaolong now had all the human leverage he needed to force the issue, including the new associates the American had brought with him on this amateurish attempt at a clandestine rescue. Jiaolong’s people would round them up soon enough. And Bronson’s wife and three friends who were already prisoners had provided Jiaolong with some amazing video footage. The editing crew had already weaved it into the final video. All that was left to do was post it.

  I own you, Jake Bronson.

  Without removing his gaze from the screen, Jiaolong said, “I want the full array of monitoring equipment tasked to what’s about to happen. We mustn’t miss a single bit of data if we hope to be able to duplicate this process.”

  “Already done, sir,” Pak said.

  Lin edged closer and placed a hand on his arm. She’d been huddled with her sisters until now, and a part of him wondered if they’d worked out the details of the surprise they had planned for him.

  On screen Jake said, “Okay, I’m willing to give it a try,” and Jiaolong let out a long-held breath. History is about to be made and the world will never be the same. And the icing on the cake, dear Mother and Father, is that the man responsible for taking your lives will soon face justice.

  Bronson lowered the skullcap onto his head. Jiaolong closed his eyes. Neither Bronson’s nor his grandfather’s voice sounded from the speaker.

  “What’s happening?” Jiaolong asked, turning to Pak.

  Pak’s computer screens were alive with streaming data. “Nothing unusual, sir. It’s presenting as if they are still communicating.”

  A tickle of concern wedged its way into Jiaolong’s thoughts.

  Zhin stepped forward, her brows furrowed. She still carried the shoulder bag with the backup drive strapped across her chest, refusing to let it from her sight until Bronson and the others were in their grasp. “Communicating about what?” she asked.

  “There’s no way to tell. It must be a thought transference of some sort.”

  “I don’t like it,” Zhin said.

  “Give it a moment,” Jiaolong said, ignoring his own discomfort. “But tell the team to prepare to breach.”

  “This must be stopped immediately,” Zhin said. She turned to Pak. “Order the breach.”

  “Hold, I said!” Jiaolong glared at her. “How dare you attempt to countermand me?”

  Her nostrils flared, and for a moment Jiaolong thought she wanted to lash out at him. But Min placed a hand on her shoulder and Zhin held her tongue. Jiaolong turned back to the wall screen.

  ***

  It took less than a few seconds for de Vries to burst-transmit the multistep process Jake would have to take to end the man’s existence. Neither of them was certain it would work, and Jake suspected he’d have to improvise a bit to make it happen.

  Before commencing, de Vries insisted on data-dumping on Jake what he’d learned as a result of his unfettered access to Jiaolong’s network. It happened in just a few beats, and Jake suddenly knew everything about the Spider, Passcode, and the targets around the world. He reeled at the implications. World gold reserves altered, stock prices manipulated, bank deposits stripped away—the global economy could be ground to a halt at the push of a button. And what about the havoc that would spread when the utility companies were hacked? Massive power outages, natural gas pipelines breached, oil and gasoline production shut down? High-level military networks were also on the list of Passcode targets. Jake didn’t even want to think about that. The scenarios were all doable, but such leverage in the hands of one man was inconceivable.

  And Jiaolong already has the passwords.

  De Vries had also told Jake about the link he’d discovered between Jiaolong’s network and a paramilitary compound less than ten kilometers away, managed under the direction of de Vries’s age-old nemesis, Wong Huang-Fu, the triplets’ grandfather. The two men had met over fifty years ago in Hong Kong, when de Vries had inherited his father’s arms-dealing empire and Wong had been the “straw sandal” liaison officer of the powerful triad that managed the black-market side of the business. They’d become fast friends. Both had been masters of the ancient game of Go, and de Vries explained that their weekly matches had been the things of legend among their families and associates. But as de Vries grew older, his desire to legitimize the family business had driven a wedge between the two men. Triad profits plummeted and Wong had lost face with his superiors, which forced him several rungs down on the triad’s political ladder.

  The man had visions of grandeur, de Vries had explained, picturing himself one day as the head of the most powerful triad in the world before the age of forty, an unprecedented accomplishment. I wa
s responsible for crushing those dreams. Obviously, he’s never forgiven me for that and has used his granddaughters to finally reap his revenge. From what I’ve learned, he has been siphoning technology from Jiaolong’s operation to advance the triad’s research into thought-controlled weaponry. Between that and control of the Passcode system, plus access to the alien technology that you bring to the table, there is little that could prevent him from becoming the most powerful man on the planet.

  Mention of the alien technology stunned Jake. He should’ve suspected that was the final piece to the puzzle.

  It was time to get moving. But first he’d keep his promise.

  Following the instructions de Vries had given him, he stepped over to the resuscitator that was keeping the old man’s body alive. He posed his final questioning thought to de Vries as he hovered his finger over the shut-off switch.

  ***

  Jiaolong leaped to his feet. “What’s he doing? That will kill—”

  “Sir,” Pak shouted behind him. “The prisoners have escaped.”

  Jiaolong snapped his head around. “What?” He jerked his focus back to the screen. “No!”

  Zhin charged forward. “Breach, breach, breach,” she ordered into her headset microphone. Then to Pak she said, “Sound the alarm.”

  Jiaolong ripped off his headset and threw it against the screen.

  ***

  I need to know where your grandson is holding my children, Jake asked de Vries.

  Your children? He doesn’t have your children.

  Jake’s mind reeled. Are you sure?

  Give me a second. A beat later de Vries said, Yes, I’m certain. There’s no record of your children being held here or anywhere else.

  But they were taken. They must be—

  A klaxon sounded from the overhead speakers.

  De Vries’s transmitted thoughts were like a shout in Jake’s head. Your wife and friends have escaped. You must leave!

  In the same instant, the emergency stairwell door burst open and armed guards swarmed in. Just before one of the men yanked the skullcap from Jake’s head, he heard one final thought through the device.Dad?

  Chapter 25

  Yóulóng Village

  AN ALARM PIERCED THE SILENCE, triggering a jolt of panic that squeezed the breath from Francesca’s lungs. She braced herself against Tony crouched beside her. He and the others had swiveled their heads to the rear, where the shouts they’d heard had been replaced by the sound of pounding footfalls.

  “Five seconds,” Pete said, staring at the sky. He was crouched in front of them at the end of the alley. The wide street ahead was still bathed in moonlight. They huddled in the shadows, shifting uneasily as the large cloud finally drifted in front of the moon. Darkness descended. “Sixth house on the left,” Pete said. He checked the corner. “Clear. Let’s go.”

  He sprinted forward, and Francesca and the others stayed close behind him. They were halfway across the road when a group of men rounded the corner at the end of the block and skidded to a stop at the sight of Francesca and the others. Even in the darkness, she could see their raised weapons.

  “Stop where you are,” the lead guard shouted. She recognized his voice as the murderer with the gouged cheek. Pete and Tony stepped forward to create a barricade for their unarmed friends. Pete’s submachine gun was pressed into his shoulder, while Tony held his pistol in a two-handed grip. Becker and Jonesy grabbed either of Francesca’s arms and swept her across the street to take cover behind an empty vendor’s cart.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as the two groups of armed men faced each other—six against two, separated by less than thirty paces.

  “Lower your weapons,” the lead guard said.

  Pete and Tony didn’t budge.

  “The good news is that they must want us alive,” Pete said to Tony, just loud enough for Francesca to hear. He sighted down his weapon.

  “Otherwise we’d be dead already, right?” Tony said. “You any good with that thing?”

  “Fair to middling. You?”

  “I can drop the three on the right before they know what happened.”

  Another shout from down the street. “One false move and you’re both dead men. I’ll give you until the count of five.”

  “Kind of reminds me of the Old West,” Tony said. “Know what I mean?”

  “One... ”

  Pete sniffed. “Ye don’t know the half of it.” Using one hand to keep the weapon aimed at the guards, he eased the other to slip his cell phone from his vest pocket. He dropped it onto the cobbled street and crushed it under the heel of his boot. Francesca realized he was preparing to be taken.

  “Two... ” the lead guard yelled.

  “Bloody hell,” Jonesy whispered. “I’m circling around, weapon or not.”

  Becker grabbed his arm, motioning up at the sky. “You’ll never make it.”

  Francesca followed his gaze. The cloud had drifted and moonlight was already pushing back the shadows.

  “Three... ”

  “Once the shooting starts,” Pete said, “you three hightail it up to the ridge. Help’s waiting.”

  The Irishman and Tony braced themselves. This wasn’t a ruse. They weren’t planning on backing down.

  “Four... ”

  “Don’t,” Francesca cried out, struggling unsuccessfully to free herself from Becker’s grasp. “Please!” Moonlight illuminated the guards’ faces and she noticed the lead guard wearing glasses. He also wore an unwavering expression, and she realized he and his men weren’t going to back down, either. “Dio mio,” she whispered.

  A Chinese woman wearing a dark cloak and coolie hat stepped from an alley between the two groups. She walked casually into the street and turned her back on the guards as she faced Tony and Pete.

  Pete shifted uneasily. “Jaysus, girl,” he muttered. “What are ye thinkin’?”

  “You there. Step aside immediately!” the lead guard shouted. He repeated himself in Chinese.

  “You know her?” Tony asked.

  “This is going to happen fast,” Pete said to Tony. “No time to explain. But by God, man, don’t fire your weapon.”

  “But—” Tony stopped when another group of guards ran into the street behind Francesca’s position. They were surrounded.

  “Damn,” Jonesy whispered. Becker sighed. Tony lowered his weapon.

  Pete didn’t.

  The Asian woman stared him down, and the surreal scene reminded Francesca of a showdown in a Western.

  The woman screamed something in Chinese, sweeping her cloak aside and raising a snub-nosed machine pistol in a two-handed grip. Before Francesca could gasp, the woman let loose a three-round burst that stitched Pete across his chest. Blood exploded from the entry wounds, two of the rounds passing clean through to blow flesh and guts out his back. Pete flew backward and his body thumped onto the street, his legs twitching.

  The woman tossed her weapon aside and dropped to her knees, her face buried in her hands.

  ***

  “Did you see that?” Pak blurted out.

  Jiaolong forgave the outburst. The camera view from the glasses his lead guard, Bingwen, wore had captured it all, and he’d been just as startled as everyone else in the room. He watched in dismay as his other men rushed forward and gathered up the prisoners. The view shifted downward as Bingwen kicked at the fallen man to confirm he was dead. Another guard searched the body and secured the fallen weapon and spare magazines.

  “Serves him right,” Min said. “The woman shouted that he’d killed her husband. He must have done it during his infiltration.”

  “She shall be rewarded,” Jiaolong said, watching as the guards cuffed the prisoners with zip ties and ushered them away. “Finish rounding up the others,” he said. “Have them all brought to the barracks facility, including Bronson. We’ll meet them there. The time for games is over.”

  Pak issued the order, and Jiaolong watched as Bingwen helped the Chinese woman to her feet. She allowe
d herself to be escorted away. Bingwen took one last glance at the dead body before he—and the camera view—turned to follow the others.

  “And the body?” Pak asked.

  “Send a gurney to gather it in the morning. We have other priorities at the moment.” He turned and left the room.

  The triplets followed.

  ***

  Two minutes earlier

  “Someone’s with him!” Lacey said, her breath quickening. She and Marshall were on the ridgeline watching Pete’s movements through night-vision scopes. He’d disappeared down an alley a few minutes ago and they’d been waiting anxiously for him to reappear.

  “That’s Tony,” Marshall said.

  Lacey’s hands shook from a rush of excitement, and the magnified green-scale image jiggled as Pete and four others raced across the street and ducked into another alley. “And Francesca, too. Was that Becker and Jonesy with them?”

  “I think so.”

  “I didn’t see the kids—”

  Alarms pierced the silence, followed by an exchange of gunfire from behind their position.

  They spun around. “That came from our trucks!” Marshall said, pulling her back from the ridge. They grabbed their packs and weapons and scuttled behind the massive tree. “Quick, give me your phone.”

  “What’s happening?” she asked, handing it over.

  “They’re on to us,” he said. He opened the phone and yanked out the battery and SIM chip. He snapped the chip in half and tossed it in the brush. The alarms still trumpeted from below but the gunfire behind them had ceased, replaced by distant shouts. “They must’ve got Feng and the driver. It sounds like they’re headed this way.”