“They call them interventions.”
“Okay, I’d do, like, a sweep or something, and I’d beam out anyone, or anything, with that DNA.” It took her a second, but she added, “Does that mean that if Lost Friday is under way, there’s a chance the Synthetics are gone?”
I smiled as I took a left onto Route 37 toward the bridge. “You’re smarter than you look,” I said. “Which, by the way….”
“Don’t say it,” she said, not amused. “Where are we headed?”
I adjusted the rearview mirror, and said, “I think I know where Roarke is.”
* * * * *
Typical two-bedroom bungalow with the porch light on, well maintained flowerbed, Mercedes E-series in the concrete driveway behind a Honda CRV. “Looks like they’re home,” I said as I looked at my watch. Like, where else would they be at 2:10 in the morning? The lights were out.
Remington said, “Where are we?”
I did a visual sweep of the neighborhood. This was the ritzy side of town, the lawns bordered with white rock and white picket fences, manicured even in the off season when their owners were miles away grinding out the mortgage payments. Sea Beach didn’t have many street lights, but there were a couple on this street, no doubt the result of a little arm-twisting by home owners who wanted something more for their $10K a year in property taxes besides beer can recycling.
“This is where the Beharis live,” I said, answering Remington’s question. “And this is where Roarke is.” I gazed through the windshield. It was calm, too calm considering Lost Friday was in full swing. There should have been ICTO operatives in the vicinity, but the only things moving were the miniature red maples that dotted some of the yards.
Remington asked, “What makes you so sure he’s here?”
“Because he has some unfinished business.”
“Which is? I thought he was after the formulas.”
“That’s only part of it.” Remington just sat there with her wet rat groove going on, waiting for me to continue. “Vishal Rawan is the leader of the ICTO.”
“What’s that got to do with why we’re here?”
“The formulas can provide Roarke and the Red Diamond with ITD technology. However, the ICTO already has the technology, and can use it to travel back in time again and again to undo whatever Roarke accomplishes here now, or any other time.”
Remington nodded, and said, “Okay, and the Beharis?”
“Anne Behari is one of Vishal’s ancestors.”
“Ah-hah. And no Anne Behari means no Vishal, and with him out of the picture there’s no ICTO to get in Roarke’s way. He and the Red Diamond can do whatever they want, to whomever they want, whenever they want, even now.”
“And the girl in the muddy shirt wins a prize,” I said.
I don’t know, maybe it was just me, but the stillness was starting to bug me. The constant breeze off the ocean suddenly wasn’t so constant, causing the red maples to droop as if they were dead. Sweat bubbles started to pop on my forehead. I guess I’d seen too many movies because I was trying to determine how I could sneak up to the bungalow without being seen, the truth being that if Roarke was nearby and watching, he’d already be aware of my presence. Still, I had to know where he was. I popped the door on the SUV, nearly giving myself a heart attack as I inadvertently squeezed the lock button on the key remote and caused the lights to flash and the horn to bweep.
Remington looked over and said, “Smooth move, Ex-Lax.”
I just gave her a look and motioned for her to get out quietly and come around to my side so we couldn’t be seen from the bungalow. I’m sure she got all that from the single clumsy wave of my hand. I whispered, “How do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Sneak up to the bungalow.”
She looked up and down the street, and said, “Why don’t we just walk up to it?”
“Oh. Okay.” And we did. I knocked. Nothing. I knocked again. Nothing again. “Nobody home?” I whispered.
Remington shook her head and thumbed at the two cars in the driveway.
I turned the doorknob and the door came open. I wasn’t surprised. I was surprised, however, when I heard Roy’s voice.
“Johnny! Turn around! Go ba….”
In the darkness, I heard something that sounded like an egg cracking, and Roy never finished his sentence. I turned just as Remington found the light switch, but it was already too late. My eyes adjusted quickly to Roarke’s ugly mug, which was between me and the door. He’d already grabbed Remington, one arm around her throat, and an object I didn’t recognize pressed to her head.
“What’s that?” I asked, indicating the weapon.
Roarke just smiled, exposing an ugly set of teeth. I heard the egg cracking sound again, and Remington collapsed like a rag doll. “My interest is not in them,” he said. “My interest is in them… and you.” The second them was the Beharis, who were handcuffed together on their sofa. Roy was only a few feet away, but in a bungalow that size everything was only a few feet away, including Roarke. I wondered if I could charge him, or something, but I decided against it seeing as I didn’t have any plan beyond that. Besides, my gut was twisting itself into a knot as I eyed Remington’s prone body not knowing if she and Roy were dead or just unconscious.
“The Glock,” said Roarke. “Put it down on the table.”
“What Glock?” I said, playing dumb.
“Stop screwing around, Pappas. You know we’ve been through this before.”
I thought: shit, this too?
Pointing his Taser-like thing at me, Roarke said, “I could very easily put you in the same condition as your friends.”
“I thought you wanted me for something. What good would it do for you to kill me?”
Roarke grinned. “They’re not dead, Mister Pappas, but that is an option if you don’t do as I say.”
Hearing that, I felt a wave of relief but it evaporated quickly as I pulled Darlon’s Glock from the small of my back and put it down.
“You know you’re alone, don’t you?” I said, thinking back to my earlier conversation about the Synthetics being gone.
Roarke eyes were menacing. “This is the first time you’ve figured that out. Now get over there and do as I tell you.”
I wondered how many times I’d been through this. I didn’t remember any of it, but Roarke sure seemed to know what was coming down. It was like I was living in some bizarro world where my life was being played and replayed as if it were on some self-rewinding tape. I took a seat next to Robert, who looked very confused. Anne, on the other hand, didn’t look confused at all. Neither said a word as Roarke came over and pointed his zapper at Robert, who collapsed immediately.
“Now, undo the handcuffs, take his place, and redo them,” Roarke ordered, tossing the key next to my feet. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”
“What happened last time?” I asked, actually thinking about diving for the Glock and doing a Tom Cruise-Mission Impossible thing.
“You killed him,” Anne announced boldly. “You shot him with that gun and killed him, but his people came back and undid everything.” Obviously, she meant something by the way she said people, my guess being that she considered Synthetics to be less than human.
Roarke took the Glock and removed the ammunition, making the weapon useless. “And this time I have the formulas,” he added. His eyes cut to mine. “You’re annoying me, Mister Pappas. I was going to wait until we got back to 2194 before I killed you, but I could just as easily do it now. It would only be a minor inconvenience. Put those handcuffs on now.”
Okay, for the time being, and for whatever reason, he needed me alive, but it wasn’t particularly comforting. I glanced at his weapon, which looked more like a remote control than anything else. I didn’t see any electrical arcs when he’d zapped Robert, so I knew it wasn’t a Taser, which is what I’d originally thought. However, the complete
stillness of the bodies indicated the thing could do some serious damage.
“Now,” he barked menacingly.
Picking up the key, I thought it quite amazing that handcuffs had hardly changed in 190 years, then I realized they were Roy’s.
“What are we waiting for?” I asked Anne openly, figuring she knew exactly how this episode turned out last time.
“We’re waiting for the teleportation cue.”
“When is that?” I probed.
“Last time it was about fifteen minutes from now.” She did a head nod toward a clock on the mantel across the room.
It was almost quarter-to-three. I had fifteen minutes to make something happen, but how? I clicked the cuffs around my wrist.
“On the floor,” Roarke commanded.
“I’m not leaving my husband,” Anne called back defiantly.
Roarke pointed the zapper at her, and out came the now nauseating egg-cracking sound again. Anne went limp as a noodle. “That leaves only you,” he said.
Like people who say they’d like to die in their sleep, it would certainly have been easier to face the fish food factory in an unconscious state. However, that wouldn’t have given me much opportunity to avoid it. I eased Anne’s limp body to the floor and laid next to her per Roarke’s instructions, face down.
Taking my free arm and twisting it up behind me, Roarke said, “Hold her hand.” He put a knee in my back and held me in that position until I started to see stars.
“What are you going to do with her when we get to the other end?” I croaked.
“What do you think?” Roarke replied. “You’ve both already caused too many problems for me.”
Funny how Roarke classified my killing him as a problem. “Why her?” I asked, stalling.
“You know perfectly well that with Vishal Rawan out of the picture, there would be nothing to stand in my way.”
That much I knew. “Why not do it now?” I asked. “Why take us 190 years into the future to commit murder?”
Roarke let out a little chuckle. “My but you have an inquisitive mind.”
His knee was digging into my back, and my leg felt as if it was on fire. I tried to sneak a glance at the clock, but it was too far behind me. I’d probably been on the floor over five minutes, maybe even ten, but it was difficult to estimate time passing when you had so little of it left. Trying to distract him, I said, “I’m a reporter. I’m paid to have an inquisitive mind.”
“And it would cause me even more problems should you and your associate stay in this time period,” Roarke revealed, my associate being Remington.
“You’re worried about us revealing that the president is involved,” I shot back, not really knowing, but it turned out to be a pretty good guess. “Once his involvement is discovered, it sets off another whole chain of events, doesn’t it? A chain of events that affects the ultimate existence, or lack thereof, of the Red Diamond as an organization.”
Like all psychopathic egomaniacs, Roarke couldn’t resist talking about his own exploits. “And none of that will take place with you gone, Mister Pappas. You see, I’m insuring the eventual creation of the Red Diamond, and the eventual uncreation of the ICTO in one tactical operation. And, by doing it in my own time, I’ll accomplish two more things that are very important to me. I’ll see Vishal Rawan disappear before my eyes, and I’ll be able to take care of both you and Mrs. Behari in a way that will leave no traceable records; no witnesses, no teleportation logs, nothing. No one will be able to come back and tamper with the event—ever.”
So Roarke was going to do a Jimmy Hoffa on me. Time was burning away. “That’s quite the comprehensive plan,” I said as pain knifed through every part of my body. “There’s only one problem with it.”
His full weight on my back now, Roarke used his free leg to step on the spot where my handcuffed right arm touched Anne’s left arm. He wasn’t taking any chances that I’d break skin contact with her. “And what is that, Mister Pappas?”
“Those pages containing the formulas? They’re fake. You don’t have them, Roarke, and you never will. I’ve already made sure of that.” Roarke jammed his knee into my spinal column even harder. Clearly, I’d gotten a reaction.
“Nice try, Mister Pappas, but your reporter tricks won’t work on me. I’ve been through this before.”
“So have I, asshole. That’s why I convinced David to hide the real formulas and plant the fake ones. You see, neither Aryeh, nor you idiots could know the difference. He and I are the only ones on the planet who know where the real formulas are located.” I was gasping now. “Why do you think David isn’t here to protect his work? Your formulas are worthless, Roarke.”
Suddenly, he eased up on my arm. I’d gotten Roarke’s attention, all right, but now what? One wrong move, a single statement that didn’t make sense, and I was off to the fish food factory for sure. I heard a moan from Anne. At least she was alive. Then I glanced around quickly, taking in as much as my position and limited scope of vision would allow. It was enough for me to see that Roy, Robert, and Remington weren’t breathing, and a sudden wave of rage coursed through me.
“What did you do to them, you bastard?”
“They have no importance in this series of events,” Roarke responded as if he had zapped some stray cats instead of human beings. He pointed his zapper at me. “Tell me where those formulas are located.”
Whatever he threatened, Roarke needed Anne and I alive; that much I knew. I also knew I couldn’t believe a single word he said. “You might as well kill me now, Roarke. Your teleportation time will be here in two minutes, and you’re gonna look pretty stupid showing up with formulas for the chemical reaction for cake batter. Not only that, once David realizes I’m gone, he’ll destroy the real formulas.”
“They’re too valuable,” Roarke growled, wrenching my arm again.
“You’re an idiot,” I shot back, tears of pain rolling down my cheeks. “David has been through this before too, Roarke, and the memory cleanses don’t work on him. He knows how this is going to turn out, and he knows that if I go, and more importantly, if Anne goes, Vishal Rawan will never exist.”
Roarke pointed his zapper at Anne. “I could kill her right now,” he threatened.
“Then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. If Vishal suddenly disappears from the year 2194, the ICTO could run another hundred interventions further back in the continuum and prevent Anne from dying. You see, you need to actually see Vishal disappear right before your eyes. It’ll be the only way you can be sure you’ve taken care of him without having other interventions reverse the event. It has to happen in your own time, Roarke. That’s why you need her alive.”
“And why do I need you alive?”
“I just explained it, shit-for-brains. Besides David, I’m the only one who knows where those formulas are. If you don’t believe me, just stay where you are and the three of us will take a little 190-year trip into the future. Once that happens, David will destroy the formulas, and my guess is you’ll be the one who disappears off the face of the Earth. You see, just like you managed to find out who Vishal’s ancestor is, he knows several of yours. The only thing that’s prevented him from not killing one or more of them is this silly code of ethics the ICTO has. It seems they don’t like murdering innocent people, but of course that’s something you’d know nothing about. But, you know what? When it comes right down to it, when it comes to survival, things can change, can’t they Roarke? Vishal also knows you’ll never destroy the formulas because you need them to produce your own ITDs, which means that as long those formulas are intact, the ICTO will be able to bounce around the continuum and restore every event you fuck up. You’re caught between a rock and a hard place, Roarke. Just remember, if I leave this time period, you still won’t have the formulas—and you’re a dead man. What do we have, thirty seconds? Let’s count it down now: ten, nine, eight….”
Roarke suddenly broke
contact with me. Through the excruciating pain, I managed a glance at the clock. There were still a couple of minutes before it struck three. The formulas: Roarke had them on him probably, but I didn’t know if he had all the pages. If I asked about them, or made any move to wrestle them away from him, it would invalidate everything I’d just said. It was all bullshit, of course, but Roarke had no clue.
Indicating the bodies nearby, I said, “If they’re dead, you’re dead. I’ll see to it personally, Roarke.”
He smiled a sinister smile. “Not in this lifetime, Mister Pappas.” He took Anne’s limp arm and they were gone moments later, along with whatever formulas he had, perhaps all of them, his body replaced by a block of frozen helium. There was only one way to stop him and the Red Diamond now, and I laid back and closed my eyes. Lost Friday was still happening, and someone would be around soon.
Chapter 42… Only One Way To Go
I couldn’t bear to even look at the bodies, let alone check for a pulse. I just laid there with a lump in my throat and a hole in my heart, praying that they come to. Roarke, that bastard. He zapped them all with no regard whatsoever that they were real people, with real lives, not that I knew that much about them really, but I couldn’t even imagine breaking the news to Roy’s wife if he was actually dead. I suddenly realized that I knew very little about Remington outside the bounds of my own fantasies about her, and I felt shallow. I vowed that if I ever got the chance to see her alive again, I wouldn’t act like a lecherous dog around her and would make every effort to know her as a person. Then I thought: suck it in, Pappas, and figure out a way to find Roarke again. While not totally replacing my sorrow-slash-guilt trip, my anger was back, and I decided to get off my ass and find some of the ICTO operatives I’d seen earlier. It didn’t take long. First, I used the Beharis’ phone to call Romano and give him the story; then, I limped up to one of the operatives only two blocks from the bungalow, and said, “Take me to Vishal.”
* * * * *
The teleportation cues were on the half hour, so I had a few minutes to think about the conversation I’d just had with Romano. Normally, waking him at almost four in the morning would have earned me a ration of shit, but perhaps not so incredibly, he was already awake.
Lost Friday Page 31
