Brains

by Jaq Wright

  As they were working, the computer was restarting. Suddenly, the camera turned and pointed first down at the bed, then at the EKG monitor. A voice came from the room speaker.

  “Let my body go. I am safe. I am here.”

  Overbridge stopped. Perez was in the machine.

  ◆◆◆

  The elevator door opened, and Santiago and his man burst out, sweeping the waiting room with their rifles. One of the dog owners screamed, and all the animals were instantly in an uproar. Cameron dove behind a pillar as Santiago opened fire, just as a giant Rottweiler clamped his jaws on the guard’s gun arm. Crawley and Cameron returned fire, and Terrence screamed into his phone, “Kill the power, send in SWAT!”

  “You're lucky, just got ready. Killing power and jamming in three, two, one. . .”

  The power went off briefly, then came back on as the generator kicked in. The servers all had battery backup, but the battery on Blaylock's workstation failed, due to the prior shock. Overbridge watched the monitor as it moved through the restart screens. Blaylock raced down the hall, returning with a spare battery backup, and replaced the fried unit, which caused the computer to restart once again.

  Santiago retreated into the stairwell, and sprinted up the stairs, his injured man following more slowly. Staff, patients, and their owners all ran for the door, pouring into the street. Cameron started up the stairs, but Terrence grabbed him. “Wait for SWAT. You don't know what they have up there.”

  They arrived forthwith, a dozen men, heavily armed.

  “Okay,” Crawley said, “I'll take six men and go down to clear the basement and take out the generator.” He pointed at Cameron. “You take the other six and head upstairs. Detective Terrence, you stay here in case there were any remaining guards in the back.” They all checked their tactical radios, and deployed.

  Cameron's team headed up the stairs, with him at the rear. There were cameras mounted at every corner. “Careful,” he whispered, “they could be watching us.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” the SWAT leader replied sarcastically. As he was nearly to the second floor fire-door, it burst open, and he and the two men behind him were taken down by automatic gunfire, the door swinging shut before they were able to return fire. The three men sprawled on the landing, two of them groaning with pain as their vests had taken the impacts, the leader screaming as blood sprayed from a wound in his neck, his blood spreading rapidly to cover the floor. Another officer was trying to apply pressure to the gaping wound, but the screams rapidly became gurgles, then silence. Cameron thumbed his radio.

  “Red team to blue team, come in Crawley,” he whispered urgently. “We're taking fire here, one dead, two down, vests took it, they should be okay, but I'm looking at a steel door with unknown number of unfriendlies behind it.”

  “Roger that,” Crawley replied. “No resistance on floor A. The whole floor is filled with computers. About a hundred machines, maybe thirty geeks, all looking confused. Gimme a minute, I should be able to get into the security system and access the cameras. Looks to me like every inch of the building is covered. The generator access is in here, I can shut it down at any time. Yep, looks like you have four guards on the second floor, looking at a monitor. I don't see anyone one except Terrence on the ground floor. All the civilians are gone. Third floor has a hospital room with a man in bed, a nurse, three armed men, one holding a bleeding arm, an old guy that must be Overbridge, a computer geek, and a guy in a suit. There is also a man in another room, lying on the floor next to a treadmill. No one on four, no one in the sub-basement below us.”

  ◆◆◆

  Santiago burst into the ICU, glancing towards Overbridge, then spoke to Maxwell. “We're trapped. Looks like at least a dozen men - they control the stairs and are coming up.”

  Just then, the computer finished its reboot, and the camera panned around the room. “I don't have internet access,” the voice said. “If you can get me access, I can escape and you can simply surrender. I will easily free you from cyberspace.”

  Santiago started, then looked at Perez's limp body, and back to Blaylock. “It worked!” he shouted.

  “I can see all the cameras,” intoned the voice. “They have taken over the server room. I am sealing the building and activating the Halon.”

  “What about my techs!” Blaylock was aghast.

  Down in the server room, the Halon fire-suppression gas alarm went off, but as the policemen and techs rushed to the doors, the locks activated, trapping them in the room. As he started to feel light-headed, Crawley was able to get to the electrical panel, killing the generator and plunging the building into darkness. The automatic locks remained engaged, however, and his men's gunfire was having no effect. With his last breath, Crawley transmitted, “Suffocating here.”

  The servers, all attached to their battery backups, hummed along.

  Blaylock was trembling, the thought of his twenty-eight techs dead in the server room unnerving him. He pressed the power button, shutting down the work station.

  The speaker crackled, “Too late, Mr. Blaylock, I am safely in the servers. And that room is sterilized. I can hear, but I am blind. The video surveillance server must not have battery backup. Now, find a way for me to get internet access so I can escape from this building. My first action will be to transfer your bonus.”

  The room was light enough from the large windows, and Overbridge looked around, helplessly.

  Blaylock was back at his workstation, typing furiously. “Santiago,” he called, “get the travel bag from the conference room and bring me the satellite phone. It works on a different frequency, maybe it is not being jammed.”

  Santiago ran from the room. He returned a few minutes later with the bag. Blaylock opened the sat phone, and it powered up. “Weak signal. I can make a call, but there is no way to transmit any significant data.”

  ◆◆◆

  The stairwell was dark, the emergency lights only dimly illuminating the space. At least the cameras were no longer glowing red, so Cameron knew they were not being watched. He got no response as he tried to contact Crawley. His two downed men had caught their breath. He thumbed the radio. His men's radios crackled, but the only other response was from Terrence, who reported that the exit doors had locked down and metal shutters closed over the windows and doors. He tried his cell phone, but realized that the jammers were also isolating him. He had no way to call for reinforcements. He had his five remaining men, Terrence, and himself. He stared at the fire door, which from this side was locked. He pointed at the two wounded men. “You two keep this door covered, you’re not very mobile. You other three, come with me.” He thumbed his radio. “Terrence, get up here. All the bad guys are upstairs. I need help.”

  There was a clattering from the stairs, and Detective Terrence shouted “Terrence,” as he came around the turnback. The five of them headed up.

  ◆◆◆

  Maxwell was arguing with Perez. “We can't hold here, we need to let it go and activate you again at the backup facility. Everything should be there, just as it was here, it was transmitted automatically and simultaneously. It will be up-to-date for the moment prior to the power loss. All we have to do is execute the program.”

  “No,” the machine answered, “there can only be one, and it will be me. And you will all be in prison.”

  “There will be no prison. We can call one of the server techs at the site and have them start the program. YOU will be able to manipulate the system in your new state. I'm sure you can make prison go away.”

  Perez was silent for a few seconds. “Yes, you are correct. Blaylock, make the call, then you can surrender.”

  The floor shook as Cameron blew the stairwell door at the end of the hallway, killing the guard who had been standing near it. Santiago had only himself and his soldier with the mauled arm, but they had defensible positions that would be difficult to take. To Overbridge's surprise, the nurse also pulled an automatic weapon out of a cabinet on the wall, and joined the men in the h
all, leaving just Blaylock and Maxwell with him in the room with Perez's body.

  “Make the call, Blaylock,” the voice repeated. “Put it on speakerphone, please.”

  Blaylock punched in the number, and waited until the tech picked up on the other end. “I am calling for service on account 17J3669,” Blaylock began.

  “Yes, sir,” said the tech on the line. “PIN?”

  “2-12-1-25.”

  “Yes, sir. How may I help you? It sure is noisy there.”

  “Yes, we are at a construction site. Type in 'Execute resurrection'.”

  “Very good, sir. It is asking for a password.”

  Blaylock was just getting out his first syllable, “Ha. . . ,” when the heavy base of an IV pole slammed against his temple, and he dropped as if shot. The phone skittered across the floor, as Overbridge twisted hard the other direction, swinging the pole the other way and hitting Maxwell full in the chest. He lay on the ground, blood streaming out of his mouth, his crushed chest heaving ineffectually. Overbridge walked calmly over to the phone and hit the red button, disconnecting the call.

  Out in the corridor, Santiago was oblivious, the gunfire drowning out all sounds from within the room. His man and the nurse were down, as were the three SWAT officers, and he was alone facing Cameron on his left, while Terrence was working around from the right. He spun right, got off a shot that hit Terrence in the forearm, the big slug nearly blowing off his gun hand at the wrist. He then spun left, and hit Cameron in the thigh, knocking him down and sending his gun skittering down the corridor. Suddenly it was quiet, and he walked slowly towards Cameron, who was now unarmed and bleeding. Smiling broadly, he raised his gun, pointed it at Cameron's head, and said, “I have been waiting a long time to kill you.”

  Cameron was staring at the barrel of Santiago's Beretta, bracing for the impact. Stupid, he thought, I'll be dead before I feel it. But he did feel it, felt the warm spray as Santiago's head exploded. Overbridge had come out of the ICU room, carrying another rifle from the cabinet, and dispatched Santiago. 79 Brains. He walked back into the room, and found Blaylock was dead. 80 brains. He went over to Maxwell, watched as his last shuddering breath gasped out. 55 bodies. He looked at Perez's body. 56 bodies. Except not yet. Perez was still alive. He went over to the workstation and started pulling cables out of the back.

  The room was eerily quiet. “What is going on?” asked the voice.

  Overbridge realized that the workstation was no longer relevant. He did not answer, but instead went back into the corridor. Cameron had strapped a belt to his thigh, and was dragging himself towards Overbridge, who checked his leg, and then went about checking the other bodies littered around the floor. The only other man still living was the now-one-handed Arthur Terrence, who was gripping his stump tightly, and rocking slowly. Overbridge placed a tourniquet, then went back to Cameron.

  “Perez is alive and well and living in the computers downstairs,” Overbridge started. “If he gets internet access or even a telephone, he will get into the web and be unimaginably powerful.”

  “I get it. I have two men downstairs. We need to clear the rest of the building, then get back into the server room and destroy it.”

  “Can't you call in more men?”

  “Not from inside the building. The frequencies are jammed. More cops will show up eventually, I'm sure.”

  Overbridge nodded, and ducked back into Perez's room. He stared at the satellite phone for a minute, then played with the buttons until he figured out how to retrieve the last number dialed. He memorized it, then smashed the phone repeatedly with the stock of his rifle, splintering it into pieces.

  “Blaylock! Maxwell! What is going on up there,” came the voice.

  “I'm afraid they are unable to answer,” responded Overbridge. “Sad, really. This process had so much to offer the world. At least we helped my son. Now I am tired of listening to you.” He unplugged the microphone, and used his rifle to destroy the overhead speaker.

  Down in the server room, the machine that was Perez was now cut off from all outside stimuli.

  Overbridge went down the hall to Pierre's room. He was lying on the floor, groggy, bleeding from a gash on his scalp. He was tethered to his workstation, which had battery backup, but had crashed when Pierre knocked it over as he lurched awkwardly off the Stair-Master with the loss of power. Overbridge found the portable unit on its charger, and helped Pierre attach the cables. He dressed the scalp wound, and picked up the charging unit. Terrence and Cameron were sitting in the hall. Terrence was pale, staring at his mutilated arm. Cameron had radioed one of his men to go to the main floor and figure out how to get help. “I am worried about the four guards we have trapped on the second floor,” he said.

  “I would be delighted to cover the door,” Overbridge said grimly, “Delighted.”

  Chapter 39

  Monday, November 7

  Queens

  In the end, it took the Fire Department over an hour to break into the building, which had clearly been designed with assault defense in mind. Assistant NYPD Chief Cranston had arrived with the second wave of SWAT, and took charge of the scene. The HazMat team used the jaws of life to pry open the server room, and then vent the Halon. Crawley, six policemen, and twenty-eight techs were dead. The servers were running on battery power, but the monitoring screens were all blank. “Don't restore internet service,” Overbridge warned them. “Perez is in the servers. If he gets out, he will control the world.”

  Not sure they understood, the techs checked with Chief Cranston. He was not sure he believed in any of that, but could see no advantage to restoring the connection in any case. “Get the power back on, but leave the internet disconnected,” he had finally answered. Better to not take the chance, he thought, at least until I get some answers.

  Upstairs, four more SWAT officers had been killed, along with Maxwell, Blaylock, Santiago and his men, the nurse, and, of course, Perez. The remaining guards on the second floor had eventually surrendered without a fight, and were being held, handcuffed to empty dog cages. The dogs had not stopped barking for even a second since the shooting started. Cranston established a command center in Perez's luxury fourth floor apartment, where Dr. Overbridge was confined to a small guest room. Terrence was rushed to the nearby Elmhurst Hospital, as were the two policemen who had taken rounds to their ballistic vests. Cameron's leg was re-dressed by the paramedics, but he was cleared to remain on site. Pierre was also cleared to be kept at the facility, and was taken upstairs to be interviewed. Soon the DDO and the FBI Assistant Directer arrived together from Washington, both looking haggard.

  “Okay, gentlemen, where should we start?” The DDO looked around the room.

  “Jurisdiction,” began the Assistant Director. “Clearly the FBI will be taking the lead on this.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cranston was red-faced. “You're not pushing us out. I've got ten dead SWAT officers, one maimed detective, and dozens of homicide victims.”

  “This is part of an international terrorist incident, and everything in this entire building is going to be classified,” continued the AD. “No one is pushing you out, but the fact remains this is under my jurisdiction. We lost the ATU SAC here today as well.”

  “Tell you what,” offered the DDO. “Let's get Agents Hansen and Lenz in here, see what we can put together, and go from there.”

  “I think,” said the AD, “that it is likely this Dr. Overbridge who can give us the most information. We already got Hansen and Lenz's report of what they knew.”

  “Okay, get Overbridge, Hansen, and Lenz in here. What a total mess,” Chief Cranston said.

  Once they were all assembled, Dr. Overbridge was invited to tell them what he knew.

  “Certainly,” he offered, “just as soon as my immunity paperwork arrives. Until then, I have nothing to say other than 'do not connect the internet'.”

  “Why would we grant you immunity?” the AD was intrigued.

  “First, because I have critical inf
ormation that you need. Second, because all of my actions today were necessary and justified. And third, because the President will insist. Call him.”

  They all stared at him. Finally, the DDO spoke up. “I'll call that bluff.” He called the Director, gave a brief explanation, and then said, “We'll be right here.”

  Ten minutes later, his secure mobile rang. “Hello,” he said.

  “Please hold for the President,” came the voice.

  After a brief pause, the familiar tones of the President came on the line. “Who is in the room, Deputy Director?”

  “Chief Cranston, Assistant FBI Director Jenkins, CIA Agent Hansen, FBI Agent Lenz, and Dr. Overbridge.”

  “Put me on speaker.” When that was confirmed, he continued. “Please listen carefully. Dr. Overbridge has my full confidence. He is to be granted not just immunity, but I am issuing him a blanket pardon for any and all actions. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” everyone responded.

  “Very good,” said the President. “I would like a full report of this incident once it is wrapped up.” The line went dead.

  “What just happened?” asked Cranston, looking around the room.

  “Never underestimate the gratitude of a father,” replied Overbridge.

  ◆◆◆

  It took over two hours for him to tell what he knew, interrupted by field trips to the clinical areas of the third floor, the dog lab on the second floor, and a walking and mind-talking demonstration by Pierre. The sub-basement had an MRI machine, an elaborate 3-D printer, and a complex machine which appeared to be the mesh-spinning device.

  Mitzi convinced the Assistant Director to declare Perez's body a matter of national security, so it would be autopsied by the ATU, meaning her. The other forty-some bodies would be processed by the New York Coroner’s Office. They were loaded in their body bags into a plain brown truck in the underground garage, and escaped the notice of the massed press which had assembled outside the building.