Michael Vey 7

by Richard Paul Evans

  “It smells in here,” Hatch said, walking into the cell.

  Coonradt looked at him angrily. “That’s because you just walked in.”

  “No,” Hatch said. “That’s because you have soiled yourself.” He walked over next to his prisoner. “So news of your death was premature.”

  Coonradt glared at him but said nothing.

  “Really, Steven, I’ve got to know, did you honestly send your electric kids here to steal my boat?”

  Coonradt didn’t answer.

  “I probably wouldn’t answer either if I were you. It’s hard to imagine such cowardice, even from you. Sending kids to do something you wouldn’t do yourself. They should hate you more than they hate me. If you were half a man, you would have come yourself.”

  Hatch looked into Coonradt’s eyes. “But that’s all you are, less than half a man. Maybe I should dress you in a diaper and bonnet and put you on display.” Hatch condescendingly patted Coonradt on the head. “You know, that might have possibility. I’ve considered creating the world’s first human zoo. Someday it will be necessary, as humans slide off into oblivion. You would make a lovely exhibit. How amusing.”

  “You’ve finally gone mad, Jim.”

  Hatch’s eyes flashed. “That’s ‘Admiral-General Hatch’ to you.”

  Dr. Coonradt grinned darkly. “It’s telling that you were less bothered by me calling you insane than by me not using your self-appointed title. Mental hospitals are filled with men who think they’re kings or Jesus. Make no mistake, Admiral-General King of the World, or whatever lunatic name you want to call yourself, you’re still just Jimmy Hatch from Minnesota, the megalomaniac. The only change I see in you is the extent of your psychosis.”

  Hatch punched him in the face, then grabbed his own hand in pain.

  Coonradt reeled back as blood trickled down from his nose. “Why didn’t you just kill me?”

  “Everyone keeps asking me that,” Hatch said, rubbing his hand. “I’ll get around to it. Eventually. But after all this cat and mouse, where’s the fun of that? Most important, there’s information in your head that I need.”

  “I won’t tell you anything.”

  “You’ll tell me everything,” Hatch said calmly. “I’ve got a little help.” He pushed a button on his pocket microphone. “Send her in.”

  The door opened, and Zara walked into the room. Dr. Coonradt eyed her carefully, then, when she was a few yards from him, said, “Hello, Zara. How have you been?”

  Zara looked confused. “How do you know who I am?”

  “I know all my creations.”

  Zara froze. She turned back to Hatch as if for an explanation, but he just folded his arms at his chest. She said to Dr. Coonradt, “You didn’t make me. Dr. Hatch made me.”

  “Jimmy Hatch? Yeah, right. Jimmy couldn’t make a tuna sandwich let alone an electric human. So I’m assuming you borrowed Taylor’s powers and you now read minds.”

  Zara again looked stumped. “How did you know that?”

  “You don’t have to read minds to know what Hatch is up to. . . . He might as well have a transparent skull. So ask him who made you.”

  Zara turned back to Hatch. “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I can read your mind.”

  “Dr. Coonradt was the scientist I hired to create the MEI. He worked for me. Therefore, his creation is mine.”

  “Actually, you didn’t hire me,” Dr. Coonradt said. “I was with Elgen Inc. before you darkened their lobby. But that’s beside the point. What you said is illogical. It’s like saying I own an iPod, so I’m a musician.”

  “Enough,” Hatch said. “On with the interrogation, Zara.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zara said. She walked behind Dr. Coonradt’s chair so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “I’m ready.”

  “Tell me, Doctor. Who is really behind this resistance?”

  Coonradt looked down but said nothing.

  “Nothing,” Zara said. “It’s some song in his head.”

  “Let me try this. Are you working with Dr. Carl Vey?”

  “I got an affirmative,” Zara said.

  Hatch nodded. “So Vey isn’t dead.”

  “No, sir,” Zara said.

  “Where do I find him?”

  Zara hesitated. “He’s not sure. Vey moves around a lot.”

  “How do you reach him?”

  “There’s a phone number. He’s doing the song again.” After five minutes Zara had a few numbers, but they were random. “He’s just throwing out numbers.”

  “Okay, there’s another way.” He opened his desk and brought out a syringe.

  “You just keep that in there?” Coonradt asked.

  “I had it brought in special for you.”

  “Pentothal?”

  “Nice guess. Truth serum.”

  “You know it’s not reliable.”

  “What you say while on it isn’t reliable. What you are unable to keep yourself from thinking is a different matter.” He inserted the needle into Coonradt’s arm and pressed the plunger. “That shouldn’t take long.”

  Within a few minutes Coonradt was struggling to keep his head up.

  “Grab a pen,” Hatch said to his guard. “Keep at it, Zara.”

  “Dr. Coonradt, what is the phone number you use to contact Carl Vey?”

  Zara began writing. “I got it. It’s 33 . . . 555 . . . 5876 . . . 3214.”

  “Country code 33,” Hatch said. “It’s a French number.” He took out his phone and dialed. It rang three times before a once familiar voice answered. “Steven, do you have word on Michael?”

  “I have word,” Hatch said. “But this isn’t Steven.”

  There was a long pause. “Who is this?”

  “You know who this is, Carl. It’s your old pal Jim. I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed your funeral. I even sent flowers. Did you see them?”

  “How did you get this number?”

  “You know that for me to get this number everything would have to be brought down. And it has. It’s over, Vey. Your resistance has failed. It’s over, except for you.”

  “Where’s Michael?”

  “You sound like your wife,” Hatch said. “So I’ll tell you what I told her. Your son is no more. He turned himself into a bomb and did a whole lot of damage. Most important, he was killed on the mission that you sent him on. It’s ironic, isn’t it? For years he believed that he killed you, while in the end, it was you who killed him.” Hatch sniffed. “He died not even knowing that you were still alive. And you call me evil.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Of course you don’t. That would be far too easy and logical. Besides, the liar never believes others. So whose words would you accept?”

  “Steven Coonradt’s.”

  “I could get him, but he wasn’t here when your son died, so he couldn’t really say for sure. Who else?”

  “Gervaso.”

  “No, I’m afraid you killed him as well. Would you like a list of survivors? The ones you didn’t kill?”

  “Let me talk to Ostin.”

  “Ostin. No can do. He too is on that list. Died in Hades.”

  “Get me Cassy.”

  “Cassy. Yes. That I can do. It will be a moment; she’s in her cell.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll be hanging up,” Vey said.

  “Of course. You don’t want us to track you, do you? Call back in, say, ten.”

  Vey hung up.

  Hatch said to his guards, “Bring me Cassy.” Then he added, “And Sharon Vey. I think it’s time we reunited the happy couple.”

  Nearly ten minutes later Cassy was brought into the room. She froze when she saw Coonradt, who was softly babbling. “Hello, Cassy,” he said.

  Cassy started crying. “I’m so sorry.”

  Coonradt just mumbled.

  The phone rang and Hatch answered. “You always were right on time, Carl,” Hatch said. “As reliable as a Swiss watch. I love that
about you. Now here’s Cassy.”

  Hatch handed the phone to the girl. She took it cautiously and pressed it against her tearstained face. She swallowed. “Hello?”

  “Is this Cassy?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Carl Vey.”

  “I know who you are.”

  “Where’s Michael?”

  Her voice cracked. “He’s gone.”

  Vey’s voice fell. “What happened?”

  “He turned himself into a bomb.”

  Vey was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “Who else do they have?”

  “They have everyone. Dr. Coonradt. Your wife.”

  “Sharon?”

  “Aw, she ruined my surprise,” Hatch said, grabbing the phone from Cassy. He turned to his guards. “Take hot little Cassy back to her cell.” He lifted the phone. “You heard that, Vey. I have everyone. Everyone who’s still alive, at least. Just try calling your French château or your Christmas Ranch, you’ll find no one’s home.

  “But now comes the moment you’ve been waiting for. I think it’s time you talk to your wife and explain to her how you killed your son. It might be a bit tricky, seeing how she still thinks you’re dead. But seriously, this is, like, big drama moment. This is going to be a treat.”

  “Just get her,” Vey said.

  “Really? You’ve been hiding for eight years, and suddenly you can’t wait another minute to talk to her? Patience, Vey.”

  “Let me talk to Sharon.”

  “You will. We’re just waiting for her to arrive.” He put the phone on mute. “Where’s Sharon Vey?”

  “She’s almost here, sir.”

  Two minutes later Sharon walked into the room. “What do you want?” she asked Hatch tersely.

  “Someone sounds like she’s having a bad day,” Hatch said. He offered her the phone. “You have a phone call.”

  “Is it Michael?”

  “Sharon, you’re killing me. You have to accept that Michael is gone. It’s someone else you care about.”

  She looked at Hatch, then took the phone. “Hello.”

  “Sharon.”

  There was a long pause. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Carl.”

  Sharon began to tremble. “No. You’re dead.”

  “Honey, I’m not dead.”

  “I don’t believe you. What did you say to me when you asked me to marry you?”

  “I just said, ‘Will you marry me?’ ”

  “No. You said more.”

  Vey was silent a moment, then said, “I said, ‘You could do worse.’ ”

  Sharon began to cry. “Where have you been? You left us to all this.”

  “You don’t think this has been killing me? I was saving your lives. Hatch was killing everyone who knew about the MEI.”

  “You didn’t save our lives,” Sharon said. “We’re about to die. And you ruined the rest of them.”

  Hatch snatched back the phone. “You did not disappoint, old friend. So tell me, was that worth the wait? The bigger question is, will she ever forgive you? Of course, it’s a moot question, since your time is short. You should know, she did fall in love with someone else in your resistance, but, not to worry, I took care of him for you. You can thank me for that later.”

  “What do you want from me?” Vey asked.

  “You know what I want, Carl. I want you. I want you to surrender yourself to my guards and come to the Hatch Islands.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Firstly, because you don’t want your friends’ blood on your hands. Because if you don’t come, I will start killing them, one by one. Coonradt . . . Cassy . . . the entire Electroclan that your son started. . . .

  “Secondly, you don’t want your beautiful wife tortured and killed. Your lovely Rose of Sharon. Sharon the pain.”

  “How do I know you won’t just kill them anyway?”

  “You don’t. You’ll just have to believe me. But you can be assured that if you don’t come, they will all die. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble believing me when I say that. And I will video tape each of their final moments just for you. I will make them thank you for killing them just before they breathe their last breath. And, since I’ve destroyed the rest of the resistance, you will spend the rest of your life as a fugitive, running with a ten-million-dollar bounty on your head. For that much money your own mother would turn you in.”

  Vey was silent a moment, then said, “What do you want me to do?”

  “You will fly to Rome immediately. There you will be greeted by the Domguard. They will bring you to me.”

  “All right.”

  “Very well. Let’s see if you’re a man of your word. You have twenty-four hours to be in the Domguard’s custody before I start killing. Do you understand?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I look forward to seeing you again. We all do.” Hatch hung up his phone and smiled. “And the walls came tumbling down.”

  PART SIXTEEN

  42

  Visitors

  It was the morning of the fifth day on Plutus. Enele looked out the gap in the fourth-story wall of the depository, toward his home island of Funafuti. It was four days since they’d sequestered themselves inside, and still no sign of an Elgen attack. It wasn’t a question of if they would come, only when. The Elgen knew the Tuvaluans were there. There was no question of that, as the rebels were being regularly monitored by Elgen drones. Twice a day and once at night they’d come, always circling the island just out of gunshot range, watching for movement. But still no attack. Enele knew what Hatch was waiting for. He was rebuilding his army while Enele’s grew weaker.

  Hatch had all the time in the world. He had stranded Enele and his men on the island and guaranteed that they would remain there. Just six hours after Enele’s army had finished carrying all their weapons and supplies into the depository, a fleet of Elgen helicopters—twelve fully-armed Apaches—flew in from the east. They passed over the depository in formation, then, circling back, commenced their mission.

  It was easy to conclude what their mission was. They didn’t fire once at the building; instead they focused their missiles and guns on the boats docked in the harbor. They performed their operation efficiently. Just fifteen minutes after they arrived, they were headed back to their base, leaving Enele’s boats shredded, sinking, and burning in the harbor.

  The ES Proton, the only real ship Enele had had left, was, missile by missile, blown to pieces, her burning wreckage scattered and floating in pieces around the harbor.

  In addition to their missiles, the Apaches carried M230 chain guns mounted beneath the helicopters that fired 30mm bullets at the rate of 625 bullets a minute. The helicopters strafed the ground so thoroughly that even the smallest of Enele’s rafts was so riddled by bullets that it looked more like a block of Swiss cheese than a flotation device.

  Four days, Enele thought now. When will it come? Or maybe it wouldn’t. Perhaps Hatch’s plan was to just wait until they ran out of food and water. If the gods were generous, he and his men could capture rainwater for drinking, but food was a different matter. Even with rationing, Enele’s army wouldn’t survive more than two months.

  Enele’s thoughts were suddenly broken by something he hadn’t heard in a while: the sound of boat engines. But they weren’t coming from the east. Enele ran to the other side of the floor and looked out over the enclosed Nukufetau harbor. Amid the wreckage of their ships there were nineteen boats of different shapes and sizes headed their way. Enele grabbed his radio. “Adam, you see that?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve got visitors.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll go out to meet them.”

  “Be careful,” Enele said. “Consider them hostile. Send some men up to me, and we’ll cover you from here.”

  “Roger,” Adam said.

  A minute later four soldiers ran up the stairs. “We’re here,” the first said.

  Following E
nele’s instruction, they pointed two of their machine guns out toward the harbor. Two of the boats had already docked, and their occupants started to disembark. None of them appeared to be carrying guns. Then Adam, flanked by six armed soldiers, walked up to them. The men spoke for a moment, then, to Enele’s surprise, embraced.

  “I’m going down,” Enele said. “Hold your fire unless we’re fired on.” He ran down the stairs. As he reached the main floor, the front door opened. Adam walked in. “Enele. I have someone to see you.”

  Enele walked forward to see who it was. Standing just inside the doorway were Jack and Ostin. Enele immediately threw up his arms. “Jack! Ostin!”

  “Enele,” Jack said. They came together and hugged.

  “What are you doing back here?” Enele asked. “I thought you had escaped.”

  “So did we,” Jack said. “The Philippine Navy captured the Joule. We’re the only ones who got away. We came back to save them and help you.”

  “Who are ‘we’?”

  “Our new friends,” Jack said. He turned back and said, “Come on in, you guys.”

  Vishal, Alveeta, and the MAS crew all stepped inside the depository.

  “In Fiji we met Vishal and Alveeta,” Jack said.

  Vishal and Alveeta stepped forward.

  “Enele,” Alveeta said. “Do you remember me?”

  “Of course, my friend.” The men embraced. “I haven’t seen you since grade school. You look the same.”

  “I weigh the same,” Alveeta said with a slight laugh. “I am here with Vishal. He is the leader of the Tuvaluan resistance. Now we will follow you.”

  “I’m Vishal,” Vishal said, extending his hand. “It is an honor to meet you, Enele Saluni. You come from a great family.”

  “Where did you come from?” Enele asked.

  “There were about two hundred of us who were out of the country when the Elgen attacked. We’ve been waiting for the right time. When Jack and Ostin told us that you were rallying our people, we knew it was time.”