Time Frame

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Time Frame Page 36

by Douglas E. Richards


  The loss of his friends by his own hand, no matter how necessary, was devastating, but he couldn’t allow this to slow him down. He forced them from his thoughts and crawled to Rourk’s body, removing the combat knife from its sheath and using it to sever the zip ties.

  The acoustic effect had now worn off enough that he could move with almost half of his normal agility, and he was improving quickly. He tried Rourk’s cell phone, but it couldn’t reach anyone outside of the complex. Knight didn’t trust his own people, and had blocked all signals from leaving, just like he had done at his Lake Las Vegas headquarters.

  Blake conducted a hasty search of the fallen guards. Each had multiple weapons, but he was ecstatic when he found a single gun with a silencer among them. He took this, a spare magazine, and Rourk’s combat knife. He declined to take an automatic rifle. If he were to use an unsilenced weapon, especially this one, he would bring every soldier within the compound running.

  Blake entered the hallway with the silenced gun in one hand and a combat knife in the other. He threw open the door of the first room he came to and entered, gun extended. It was empty, but just as he was about to wheel back around, in the epitome of bad timing, a merc rounded the corner of the hallway. “Freeze!” said the man, rushing forward and shoving the barrel of his gun between Blake’s shoulder blades.

  Blake held up his hands, quickly flipping the combat knife so the blade was hidden behind his left forearm. “I surrender,” he said, letting the gun turn in his right hand so it was upside down. He then made a show of tossing it to the floor.

  The instant he did, knowing the merc’s attention would be drawn to his falling gun, he dropped to a crouch and spun around, driving the combat knife into the man’s heart, all the way to its hilt.

  Without missing a beat, Blake rose to his full height and grabbed the handle of the buried knife to help him drag the merc into the room, shutting him just inside its entrance.

  Blake surveyed his surroundings and quickly made his way to the front stairs, checking rooms one by one as he did, moving with more haste than was wise. He was frantic, driven to find Jenna before it was too late.

  Two mercenaries were against one wall of the third room he opened, installing a steel box that most likely contained a computer and laser. He put one silenced round into each of their heads instead of his usual two, intent on saving ammunition.

  When he reached the entry staircase another hired gun was working on an electronic panel at the massive front door, which Blake guessed was an AI-controlled locking mechanism. Blake desperately wanted to put the soldier down and move on, but leaving a body where it was so likely to be found was too reckless, even in his current state of haste.

  Blake was skilled enough to sneak up on a man across a forest floor strewn with twigs, leaves, and pinecones, so approaching soundlessly across smooth marble was no challenge at all.

  “Say a word and you die,” he whispered when he and his gun were within five feet of the man. “Do what I say and you live. Your choice.”

  The man raised his hands in silence, indicating his decision.

  Blake opened the door to the coat closet nearby. “Get inside!” he ordered under his breath. “Now!”

  The moment the merc entered the closet, Blake shot him in the head and lowered him to the ground, closing the door behind him.

  He raced up the stairs and threw open the first door he came to at the top of the landing, gun extended.

  It was Jenna! On the bed. He had found her.

  His heart began beating like a snare drum as he took in the scene. But what he was seeing was so unexpected that he had to blink and look again to be sure it was real.

  The scene didn’t change. He hadn’t imagined it. It was real. His heart began to throttle back as quickly as it had accelerated. She was safe.

  More than safe.

  Ajax was on the floor at one side of the small bed, gushing blood from multiple gouges on his head and face, unconscious or dead. A heavy brass lamp was lying beside him, now as dented and disfigured as Ajax’s head.

  Jenna Morrison was on the bed, tied spread-eagle on her back, save for one hand that Ajax must have been in the process of tying when she had clocked him with the lamp. After the first blow, she must have pressed her advantage in a berserker rage, crashing the lamp into her would-be rapist in rapid-fire fashion until he had become dead weight, and then pushing him off the bed.

  She was now in the process of sawing through the zip tie binding her other hand to the bed, using a sharp piece of the light bulb that had shattered upon contact.

  “Jenna, thank God!” said Blake, rushing over to her and bending down to give her a quick hug, unable to stop himself.

  “Aaron?” she said in relief, dropping the glass shard and putting her one free arm around him.

  A single tear escaped from Blake’s right eye as he rose, which he quickly wiped away before she could see it. He sawed at her remaining bonds with the combat knife while she rebuttoned her blouse. Ajax must have decided he couldn’t wait until her last hand was tied down to begin removing this garment.

  A fatal mistake.

  Blake gazed at Jenna and tried to keep a love-struck expression from his face. Not easy to do now that his true feelings had made themselves known, and after she once again proved just how remarkable she really was.

  “How did you turn into such a badass?” he said.

  “I was panicked at first,” she replied. “But then I just asked myself, WWABD. You know, What Would Aaron Blake Do?”

  He laughed. “Well, next time, if I’m going to go to the trouble of rescuing you, the least you could do is pretend to need rescuing.”

  “Sorry about that, Aaron,” she responded with an impish smile. “As much as I wanted to stay helpless so you could play the hero, you were a little late.”

  “In my defense,” said Blake, so relieved that he couldn’t stop smiling, “I tried really hard to get here sooner.”

  “What took you so long?” said Jenna.

  “Bad traffic,” he replied with a grin. “I guess I should have used the carpool lane.”

  69

  Jenna Morrison exited the guesthouse and began walking toward the main mansion, fifty yards away, as though she was out for a casual stroll.

  “Freeze!” said one of two armed men who rushed toward her from behind an outcropping of trees. “Hands up!”

  Jenna jumped like a coiled spring. “Okay, okay,” she blurted out, raising her hands and looking nearly petrified with fear. “Don’t point those . . . things at me. Please. What did I do?”

  The mercs glanced at each other in confusion. “What did you do?” one of the men repeated in disbelief. “The better question is, how the hell did you escape?”

  “Escape?” she said. “I don’t understand. Put down your guns and we can talk about it,” she added, as though speaking to two mental patients who were terribly misguided.

  “Come on,” said the second merc, “don’t pretend you aren’t one of the prisoners that Knight was keeping inside.”

  “Prisoners?” said Jenna. “Have you guys been drinking? I was hired by a guy named Ajax. You know, to show him a good time. That guy’s into some kinky shit. All I know is that I did my job, and now I’m leaving. If you don’t believe me, go inside and ask him.”

  The two men lowered their guns, trying to decide what to make of her, when bullet holes appeared in both of their foreheads and they collapsed to the lawn.

  Jenna took a deep breath while Blake rushed to her side, still holding a silenced gun. “That was brilliant,” he said. “You have nerves of steel.”

  “Not really,” said Jenna. “I just have confidence in you.”

  Blake smiled. He had made certain that no more hostiles remained alive in the guesthouse, but he thought it likely that a few men were watching the front door. Jenna had courageously agreed to play the role of a hunting dog, flushing out the quail for him to shoot.

  It couldn’t have worked any bette
r.

  The only difference was that he would never hurt a helpless quail.

  “Now what?” whispered Jenna.

  “Give me a minute to think,” he replied.

  He sighed. Jenna knew very little of what was happening. He had told her it was complicated, and couldn’t spare the time to fill her in until later. She didn’t know she was a duplicate, or anything that Rourk had told him.

  And she didn’t know that if he wasn’t able to capture or kill Knight cleanly, he would have to turn against his own, including the man she was about to marry.

  He first had to attempt a rescue, but there was no way she was coming with him. He would not put her life in jeopardy, under any circumstances.

  “Knight is blocking all signals out of this area,” he said after only a few seconds had passed, “making cell phones useless. No calls, text, or Internet.”

  “Like he did at Lake Las Vegas?” said Jenna.

  “Exactly.” Blake pointed due south of the main residence, to a small warehouse. “Rourk told me the suppressor is housed in there,” he lied.

  He took a deep breath. He hated lying to her, but if he didn’t tell her a convincing story, she would insist on joining him. “I’m going to destroy it,” he said. “Restore communications so we can call in the Calvary. But it will be heavily guarded. I won’t be able to take it out without advertising my presence. So I need you to stay here. Go back to the room Ajax took you to, get his phone, and find a good place in the house to hide. Keep trying to call Tom TenBrink or Joe O’Bannon. If I’m successful, you’ll be able to get through. They can track your phone, and they’ll know what to do.”

  “What about the rest of the team?” asked Jenna, referring to the duplicates who were next to her in the rec room when she had awakened.

  Blake looked sick as an image of his dead colleagues flashed into his mind, but he caught himself before she noticed. “Leave them alone for now,” he said. “The room they’re in is the first one any guards who enter the house will check. For now, the team is safer unconscious. And you’re safer not being anywhere near that room. They’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure about that?” she asked.

  “Positive,” he replied. “Trust me,” he added, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth.

  Jenna shook her head. “I hate this plan,” she said. “It makes sense for everyone but you. If they really will be on you as soon as you destroy the suppressor, I can’t let you do this.”

  Blake forced a smile. “You know better than that, Jenna. I’m not so easy to kill. But if it does come to that, you know there’s another me out there. The one sent to North Korea. I wish I had time to explain, but this is a risk I have to take.”

  “Now go!” he added emphatically. “I need to know you’re safely hidden, so if I am forced to sacrifice myself, it isn’t for nothing.”

  Jenna nodded solemnly, and her eyes moistened. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, Aaron. You know how much you mean to me.”

  “I feel the same,” he said simply, wishing he could say more, but not wanting to make this messier than it already was. “Stay safe, Jenna Morrison. I’ll be back soon.”

  70

  Knight stared intently at his former boss. “I want you to know, Lee, I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. We do share some important history. You were the first person, other than me, to learn that time itself could be breached, and how the universe chose to handle this situation.”

  “That’s beautiful, Edgar,” spat Hank Vargas. “But do you know what will happen when you’re gone? The entire world will celebrate. Ding-dong, the dick is dead.”

  “Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?” said Knight icily. “Lee and I were having a moment and you ruined it. Not to mention that you’re worthless. So no more talking, okay?”

  Knight opened a cabinet, removed a roll of duct tape, and gagged Vargas’s mouth, so he joined Jenna and her fiancé as mute observers. Just as he finished, two of his soldiers entered the room, shoving Aaron Blake in front of them, his wrists zip tied together behind his back. He was bleeding from bullet wounds in his thigh and upper arm and looked like he had just fought the armies of hell.

  Knight’s eyes widened in shock.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” said one of the mercs, “but he was inside this house, working his way here, when we captured him.”

  Knight glanced at the unconscious Blake still gagged against the far wall, his hands tied to either side of a chair, and then back at the newcomer. “This isn’t possible,” he whispered.

  “If you say so,” said Blake.

  “What happened?” Knight asked one of the two guards. “Give me the short version.”

  “He escaped,” said the mercenary. “Once we recaptured him, I sent Jake to check out the guesthouse. Everyone there was dead. Not just our people, but the prisoners too. Not a single survivor. This guy also killed two men who had been patrolling outside. Then he killed five of our men in this residence before we were able to stop him.”

  Knight bared his teeth like a feral animal, furious. “Is that idiot, Jack Rourk, one of the casualties?”

  “He is.”

  “Good!” spat Knight. “I told that jackass not to revive this man under any circumstances. Given his track record, we were lucky you stopped him before he reached this room. Any idea how he did it?”

  “None,” replied the shorter merc. “But Jake reported that everyone in the room had blood leaking from their ears.”

  Knight’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Remove his belt,” he said suddenly as he realized what must have happened. “And his too,” he added, gesturing toward the other Blake in the room, who was still unconscious.

  The shorter merc did as requested and handed the two identical belts to Knight, who inspected them carefully.

  “Well done,” he said to Blake. “I didn’t realize Vargas’s sonic weapon could be triggered manually. I thought checking for smart contacts was enough.”

  “You thought wrong,” said Blake simply.

  Knight shrugged. “Just a minor setback,” he said. “I’ll make another copy of your friends and I’ll be back where I started.”

  “Except for the scores of mercs I just took out,” said Blake. “You’re running pretty thin on them all of a sudden.”

  “I’ll hire more,” said Knight, unconcerned. “In the meanwhile, I’ll copy the few who are left to take the place of those you killed. Be up to strength almost before you finish dying.”

  He stared at the mountains through the large slider for several seconds, and then turned back to face Blake and his two escorts. “Craig,” he said to the taller of the mercs, “take a few men and go back to the guesthouse. I want it scoured with a fine-tooth comb. You’re looking for possible booby traps, indications he might have something more planned, and clues as to how he got the drop on so many of our people after using the belt. I don’t trust him. I also want to learn how he operates, what makes him so good at his job.”

  “Understood,” said Craig.

  Knight turned back to Blake. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said. “As fun as this has been, I’m afraid I have others matters to attend to, and I already have one of you.”

  He gestured to the sole remaining soldier, who still had a gun pressed into Blake’s back. “Take him outside and kill him,” he ordered. “I don’t care where. I just don’t want another dead body in here. Speaking of which,” he added, nodding toward the bodies of Daniel Tini and Joe Allen. “When you’re done with him, grab someone else and get rid of these two.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” said Blake calmly. “Tell him to back off, or I’ll kill everyone in this room.”

  Knight laughed. “You’re the fucking energizer bunny, you know that? You never stop. You’re shot up, bleeding on my floor, and you act like you’re ready to run a marathon. But this time you’re bluffing. You’re all out of belts.”

  “The belt only works once, anyway,” said Blake
. “So instead, I thought I’d bring back an old classic.” He slowly turned so that his back was to Knight for just a moment, just long enough for him to see the ring Blake held between his thumb and forefinger.

  Knight’s smile vanished. “Back away as he said,” he ordered his only remaining soldier. “In fact, leave us. I’ll let you know when I want you back.”

  “Good choice,” said Blake as the merc left the room. “The colonel told us you knew about Jenna and what she was able to do with her little ring at Lake Las Vegas. What is it with octa-nitro-cubane and rings? They seem to go together like peanut butter and jelly. I give this a good squeeze and we all die.”

  “I’m not buying it,” said Knight. “You fascinate me, so I’ve made it a point to study your past. You have a reputation for being able to create and sell complex bluffs on the fly. You’re smart, inventive, and ballsy. Your only flaw is that you’re on the wrong side of this. In any event, I know you’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?” said Blake. “Since you were listening in to the colonel, I assume you heard when he prepped us for this mission. Do you remember me asking about weapons? About the smart contact? Remember me saying it would be a mistake to underestimate you? I wasn’t just saying that. If I haven’t learned that lesson by now, I’m incapable of learning. I had no idea what inventions your duplicates might have cooked up that you could throw at us. So I brought the belt without telling anyone. If I did that, is it really a stretch to believe that I also prepared this ring—just in case?”

  Knight tried to remain impassive, but an unmistakable flicker of doubt crossed his face. “I still think you’re bluffing,” he said. “But even if you aren’t, you’re forgetting something. You killed the duplicates I made of your friends. So if you blow this residence, you and your Q5 colleagues are gone—for good.”

 

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