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Brainrush 03 - Beyond Judgment

Page 33

by Bard, Richard


  “I know,” Sarafina said. “But first we have to gather the rest of the children.”

  Francesca felt Jake swell with pride at Sarafina’s sense of duty. Francesca felt the same. When Alex added his nod to the conversation, she realized that this was the family she had always dreamed about.

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Jake said. He held out his hands, and Francesca passed Alex to him. Jake used his free hand to pull Francesca into a quick kiss. It took her breath away. The glance that passed between them spoke volumes.

  Everyone stacked up behind Jake at the door. But before he opened it, he looked into the eyes of his son and said, “Do you even have the slightest idea how awesome you are? You saved my life with your quick thinking. I’m so proud of you, I can barely stand it!”

  Alex beamed. His lips parted in a crooked smile, and he spoke for the first time in his life. “Yippee-ki-yay, Daddy.”

  Chapter 82

  Grid Countdown: 0h:42m:00s and Holding

  The Island

  7:00 a.m.

  ALEX’S WORDS BROUGHT a grin to Jake’s face. Francesca gasped. So did Sarafina, Ahmed, and Lacey. It was the first time any of them had heard the boy’s voice.

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Jake said, positioning Alex so that he wasn’t pressed against the wound on his chest. He didn’t wait for an answer. They had to get moving. After confirming that the coast was clear, he moved out, leading with the pistol. The corridor seemed considerably warmer than earlier. Apparently, the power outage was having an impact.

  The emergency lights were few and far between. Long shadows were separated by dim pools of light. Jake moved quickly. He still wore the blue security uniform. Francesca and the rest of them stuck close behind him.

  Jake stretched his senses, scanning for threats. They were on level three. They needed to get to level two, where they hoped to find the rest of the children. He was headed for the utility staircase he’d used earlier. According to the floor plan he’d memorized, it was the only way up besides the elevators and the main stairwell.

  He hesitated as he neared an intersecting hallway. There were voices coming from the right hall.

  “In here!” Sarafina whispered, pointing to a door he’d just passed. “This is how that man brought us down.”

  The door was unmarked. Ahmed tried the handle. It was locked. There was a keypad beside it.

  “We don’t have the code,” Francesca said.

  The voices were getting louder. Lacey moved in front of Jake and peeked around the corner. “Better hurry,” she said. “They’re coming this way.”

  Jake tightened his grip around Alex. His son clung to his neck like a monkey. He was about to turn the group back the way they’d come when Alex said, “Seven-seven-four-six-two.”

  By the time Jake considered how his son could know the code, Sarafina had already entered it. The lock clicked. “Don’t ask how,” she said, swinging the door open. “Just trust him.”

  “She’s right,” Ahmed said, leading the way. “Alex is a rock star.”

  Francesca was next. Jake and Lacey rushed to follow, closing the door behind them.

  The private staircase hadn’t been indicated on the floor plan he’d memorized. Its use must have been limited to Victor and other VIPs. It appeared to extend from the sublevel all the way to the surface. Despite the current beehive of activity going on in the facility, no one else was using it.

  “One floor up,” Sarafina said, scurrying along the steps. “Then down the hallway to the right.”

  When they reached the landing, Jake handed Alex to Francesca. The boy didn’t resist. “I need you to take the rock star,” Jake said, winking at him. Alex tried to wink back, but all he managed was a blink.

  Jake said, “Here’s how we’re going to do this.” He pointed up the stairs, calculating their relative position in the facility. “If I’m not back in five minutes, that’s your way out. It exits thirty paces from the main entrance. Once you’re outside, grab a boat and hightail it out of here.”

  Lacey’s pinched-brow expression seemed to say, That’s the entire plan? Uh…aren’t you skipping a few steps? Thankfully, she held her tongue.

  “Ahmed’s going with me to get the kids,” Jake continued. “The rest of you stay—”

  “No way,” Sarafina said, ending the discussion by pushing through the door and stepping into the hallway. Lacey and Ahmed rushed after her.

  Jake’s shock didn’t keep his feet from moving. He palmed the air in front of Francesca as he backed out to follow them. “Pleeease, stay here with Alex!” he whispered. “You’ll be safe.”

  Francesca’s mouth turned into a thin line. She tightened her grip around their son and stormed past him. “We’re a family now. We stick together.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. He raced to catch up with Sarafina. She stood in front of a set of double doors. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

  “The only thing I know for sure is that we can’t leave without trying.” She cracked open one of the doors. Children’s voices spilled into the hallway. Jake maneuvered to get a peek inside. The interior space was dimly lit. He saw candles…

  Suddenly, both doors were yanked open and Jake found himself staring down the barrels of several weapons. Someone raised a lantern to his face.

  “Hand over the pistol,” the stout, middle-aged woman standing in front of him said. She wore a khaki hunting vest over a button-down shirt, cargo pants, and tennis shoes. Her expression was all business. The chrome revolver she held was steady in her hands. It was aimed at his chest. Jake handed his pistol to the man standing beside her.

  “Inside,” she said, motioning with her gun. “All of you.”

  They were herded into the room. The doors closed behind them, and two men took up guard positions on either side. They were casually dressed. They seemed nervous; the grips they held on their submachine guns were awkward. These weren’t professional soldiers, Jake thought. He took in the room. There were at least a hundred people gathered at the long dining tables: men, women—and a lot of children.

  Their grim expressions were reflected in the dim candlelight. They seemed afraid, bunched together in family units. These were parents and teachers and their children. Not soldiers. They’d quieted to take in the scene.

  “Check them,” the woman said. Her stern expression reminded Jake of a middle-school principal. But he sensed her initial suspicion fading as she studied their group.

  A silver-haired man with bifocals stepped forward. His plaid shirt, bow tie, and wrinkled vest reminded Jake of a college professor. He held one of the security wands, shrugging apologetically as he waved it across Jake’s shoulder. The wand beeped, and he moved on to the rest of them. When he was finished he said, “They all check out except the child and the girl.”

  The woman sighed, lowering her gun. Tension eased from the room like air from an untied balloon. The murmur of voices from the tables was instantaneous.

  “My name is Eloise,” she said, extending her hand. “Sorry for our reaction. We were told there are intruders. Why aren’t the children implanted?”

  Sarafina stepped forward. “My name is Sarafina,” she said. “And that’s my brother, Alex.” She placed her hands on her hips. “And the reason we’re not tagged like some sort of pet is because we were being held hostage here by Mr. Brun.”

  The room quieted.

  “What are you talking about?” the woman said. “Mr. Brun would never—”

  “Please let me explain,” Jake interrupted. “We don’t have much time. You’re not safe here. We can help you all escape.”

  The woman looked at him as if he were crazy. Jake had the sense that she was tempted to raise the revolver. He palmed the air. “Wait, just hear me out. That’s all I ask. But trust me.” He pointed toward the tables. “We came here for the children’s sake.”

  After a brief hesitation, the woman nodded. “Okay, explain.”

  Jake
lifted his voice so everyone could hear. “My daughter told the truth. She and Alex were kidnapped by Victor Brun.”

  There were a few utterances of disbelief from the adults at the tables. Jake ignored them.

  “He took them in Geneva, right after he had orchestrated the deadly gas attack that killed world leaders at the Palace of Nations.”

  “Impossible,” someone shouted.

  “Lies,” said another.

  Jake continued, “Don’t you see? He’s behind it all. He wants the end to come. And he will do anything necessary to make it happen. When the grid countdown commenced, he was thrilled. And when it stopped a short while ago, he was devastated. I know. Because I was with him when it happened, strapped to a torture chair in a room down below.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal the bandaged knife wound. It was blood-soaked. “And he wielded the knife!”

  More angry shouts of denial from the crowd. Francesca edged closer to him. Alex jostled, and she set him down. He pressed up against Jake’s leg. Lacey and Ahmed stepped forward to form a united front.

  “It’s not safe to stay here,” Jake said. “The creators of the grid have intelligence beyond anything we know. Victor underestimates them. He thinks that his treachery will go unnoticed. But he’s wrong. It will cost him his life. Yours, too, if you stay here. So come with us. Let’s get the children out before it’s too late.”

  There were murmurs, but no one moved to join him.

  Jake said, “Listen to me! Right now Victor is holed up somewhere, setting the stage for the ultimate devastation. He’s going to launch a barrage of nuclear missiles—”

  “Enough!” Eloise shouted. “How dare you! Victor Brun is a man of peace. He has worked his entire life toward this end, helping us all in so many ways. To protect our children, our heritage, our lives—from a world torn apart by violence and terror. A world on the precipice of Armageddon, sparked by an inherent evil so rampant that it has finally drawn judgment from above. We are the last hope for mankind. We are the children of the arc. Cæli Regere!”

  “Cæli Regere!” the crowd shouted. Several of the men rose and started toward Jake. They weren’t happy.

  Jake stood his ground.

  Eloise couldn’t contain herself. She yelled, “And you have the nerve to accuse him! And by association every one of us in this room! Of lighting the fire of man’s destruction?” Her face was beet red. She raised the revolver. Her hand shook. Her voice squeaked. “How dare—”

  She cut off when Alex stepped between them. He shouted, “Pleeease!” He was on his tiptoes. He held his small tablet over his head. The screen was pointed at her. The room stilled.

  The woman’s furious gaze shifted from Jake to the tablet and back to Jake again. Then she did an abrupt double take, her focus settling on the screen. Her eyes narrowed, and she lowered the revolver. “Rewind it,” she said.

  Alex lowered the tablet. He made an entry on the screen and handed it to her. Jake startled when he caught a glimpse of the paused video.

  Brilliant!

  Eloise held the tablet close to her chest. Only the professor was close enough to share her view. She tapped the screen to start the video. The volume was low. She titled her ear toward the screen. The professor leaned in.

  Color drained from their faces. Their mouths gaped. Fifteen seconds later, she tapped the screen and handed the tablet to the professor. He was tight-lipped.

  Her shoulders sagged. “Hook it up,” she said, motioning to a large wall monitor.

  The room was dead silent as the professor used a USB cable to connect the device. He turned on the monitor and tapped PLAY.

  It was a video of Victor Brun, standing in front of Jake when he’d been strapped in the chair. The tablet had been on Alex’s lap at the time.

  “You have two choices,” Victor said on the screen. “Either link with the grid and find a way to restart the countdown, in which case your children shall be spared, or refuse, in which case they shall die in this room…after which I will trigger the launch of nuclear missiles from six separate locations, including a US submarine.”

  Several people gasped, including Francesca. Jake noticed one man leave out the back door.

  Victor continued, “The targets have been carefully selected to ensure retaliation, especially in light of the current state of global panic. The result? World War III. The real war to end all wars. That should certainly be enough to restart the grid countdown. Don’t you think?”

  “Dear God,” Francesca said. “The world must see this.”

  Jake knew she was right. It would open eyes. Maybe even those looking down from above.

  Alex nodded as if he’d heard Jake’s thoughts. And in that moment Jake thought he saw the wisdom of the ages in his son’s expression.

  Most of the younger children in the room didn’t understood what the video meant.

  But everyone else did.

  Especially Eloise. The color had returned to her face. Her fists were balled, her nostrils flared, and her voice was filled with authority. “Gather your things, everyone. We’re leaving immediately!”

  She turned to Jake and motioned toward the door. “After you.”

  Chapter 83

  Grid Countdown: 0h:42m:00s and Holding

  The Island

  7:05 a.m.

  VICTOR’S ANGER THREATENED to shred his self-control. But he wouldn’t allow it.

  He had retreated deep into the facility, where a secondary blast door restricted access to what senior Order members referred to as the inner sanctum. The self-contained series of rooms had facilities and food stores to support one hundred people for up to twenty-four months. It was filled to capacity.

  He paced back and forth at the front of the briefing room. His entourage of dignitaries fanned out around him. Several security guards stood nearby. The space was well lit. Its independent generators had kicked on as soon as the main power turbines went off-line. He listened intently as the uniformed officer completed his report.

  “They entered through the waterway,” he said with a thick German accent. He wore a headset that was plugged into a twelve-foot-wide control console behind him, where two lieutenants sat at workstations. The wall above them was embedded with a dozen video monitors. With the closed-circuit cameras down throughout the rest of the facility, only one of the screens worked. It displayed the hijacked message of world peace being transmitted to the grid. Victor ignored it.

  “It was a small force,” the officer continued. “Two of the turbines were destroyed. One was crippled. Electrical lines to the primary backup generators were severed. In the meantime, the island’s camo shields are down, remote weaponry is off-line, and the exterior blast doors won’t close.”

  There were several gasps in the crowd.

  “However,” the officer quickly added, “the engineering team has repaired most of the lines to the generators, and power will be restored shortly. In the meantime, we have deployed perimeter forces to the lagoon.”

  Victor had discounted the Australian commandos as a nonissue. Even if a few of them had avoided the gauntlet of remote guns, all of the back entrances to the facility had been sealed. Hundreds of meters of tunnels had been collapsed. There was no way in. Or so he’d been assured by his people. No one had considered the underground waterway. It had been a costly oversight.

  But it wasn’t fatal.

  “Where are they now?” he asked.

  “The last report has them—” He held a hand in the air. His eyes narrowed as he listened to an incoming communication.

  “Sir,” he said urgently. “The American has been sighted in the level-three cafeteria. His children are with him.”

  Victor’s insides quaked. If Jake Bronson was alive, then Hans was not. The realization brought a rush of sadness. The man had been his only real friend.

  “Dispatch the reserve teams to the cafeteria,” Victor ordered angrily. “The Australian commandos will likely link up with him there. Shoot to kill.”

  “Yes,
sir,” the man said. He issued a series of orders into his headset.

  Victor weighed the situation. The American was loose in the facility. He’d rescued his two children. But what else could he do? Victor and his people were safe in this sector. It was impenetrable. So Bronson’s recourse would be to escape. He and the commandos would die trying, Victor thought. Even if they somehow made it through the open blast doors, they’d be torn to shreds by the army of defenders that waited outside. One way or another, Jake Bronson would soon be dead. Victor only wished he could be there to savor the expression on the infuriating man’s face when the end was upon him. It was a regret he suspected he would long carry.

  “Sir!” one of the lieutenants at the console said, then reported, “An unidentified vessel has entered the inlet.”

  The knot in Victor’s stomach tightened.

  He glanced at the operational wall monitor. The grid countdown was still paused. He scanned the faces of the men and woman around him. They shared his concern. But, like him, they knew what must be done. The Russian general was the first to nod. The rest followed suit in short order.

  Victor took pride in their resolve. He’d known each of them since childhood. Their fathers—and a long line of ancestors before them—had groomed them well. This was his family. This was the future of mankind.

  Victor stepped up to the console. He reached down the collar of his shirt and pulled out a lanyard that was suspended around his neck. He unsnapped the key affixed to its end. The Russian general stood at the second console, his own key already in hand. Each of them flipped open a plastic cover, inserted their key, and twisted. Then, responding to computerized prompts, they confirmed their identities with iris scans and keypad entries.

  “Codes accepted,” the computer voice responded. “Flash orders transmitted. Launch sequence will commence in eight minutes.”

  Victor felt a dark thrill rush up his spine.

  Chapter 84

  Grid Countdown: 0h:42m:00s and Holding

 

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