Virtuality
Page 1
Virtuality
H. L. Wegley
Romantic Suspense
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction, set in a real location. Any reference to historical figures, places, or events, whether fictional or actual, is a fictional representation. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Samantha Fury http://www.furycoverdesign.com/
Copyright © 2018 H.L. Wegley
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-732763623
ISBN-10: 1732763623
Also available in printed publication
OTHER BOOKS BY H. L. WEGLEY
Against All Enemies Series
1 Voice in the Wilderness
2 Voice of Freedom
3 Chasing Freedom
Witness Protection Series
1 No Safe Place
2 No True Justice
3 No Turning Back
Pure Genius Series
1 Hide and Seek
2 On the Pineapple Express
3 Moon over Maalaea Bay
4 Triple Threat
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to the Christ-sharing, culture-shaping ministries that seek to protect American individuals, American families, and American society against the many destructive forces at work in our nation. I have listed only a few of these organizations, because providing a comprehensive list would be impractical. But I am referring to organizations like Focus on the Family, Chuck Colson's ministries—including Breakpoint and Colson Center—and Ravi Zacharias International Ministries. We are grateful for your faithfulness in the work that you do for us and for Him.
As this book, Virtuality, attempts to do, these organizations remind us of God's timeless truths, while alerting us to threats coming from new technology, new legislation, government policy, judicial rulings, and cultural trends.
CONTENTS
OTHER BOOKS BY H. L. WEGLEY
DEDICATION
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, I want to thank my wife, Babe, for being willing to listen to me read her this story twice, even though she didn’t like the story after the first draft. It evidently got better, because she stopped complaining.
Thank you, Samantha Fury, for taking a landscape-oriented image and revamping it for use in a portrait-oriented book cover. And thanks for designing another wonderful cover.
Thanks to my niece, Vicki, an experienced climber, who taught me a little about biners and quickdraws—which I learned had nothing to do with an old West shootout. She sanity checked my climbing scenes and cringed when I tried to take my hero, a novice climber, up a rock face, solo, without enough rope.
Thank you, Gail Ostheller, for proofing the manuscript with eyes that are much sharper than mine.
Thanks to my sister-in-law, Duke, who read the second draft to see if I’d brightened a potentially dark story so that it could be enjoyed by women readers who prefer clean, flinch-free fiction.
Thanks to Del Tackett, tour guide for Focus on the Family’s Truth Project. His lectures gave me perspective on who man is, and where his self-awareness lies, as I wrote about the interaction of the brain and the immaterial self that lies at the core of our existence.
Finally, I thank my Lord for words and wits enough to write another story.
I am praying, Father, that you will not take my disciples out of the world but that you will protect them from the evil one.
John 17:15 (paraphrased)
Chapter 1
July 3, 11:30 p.m. Snoqualmie, Washington
Vince van Gordon glared at Patrick, the geek Vince had threatened to beat into submission. He pointed at the phone on Patrick’s desk. “Jess is in danger and it’s all your fault. Call LACO, now!”
Behind Vince, a thump came from the office door.
He whirled toward the door.
It swung open.
A slender form leaped into the room.
Jess. How had she gotten away from—
“Vince, I took out Larry. But Curly and Moe have assault rifles.” Jess’s strong, slender arms gripped Vince’s shoulders. “We've got to get out of here.”
The Three Stooges? What was she talking about? Jess had somehow escaped her kidnappers, but—
“Now, Vince. They’re going to kill us.”
Vince gripped her shoulders and studied her eyes. Jess was the brightest person he had ever known, seldom wrong about anything. But the wild look in her eyes—had the kidnappers drugged her? “Are you okay, Jess? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay. But not for long, unless we leave.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him from Virtuality’s office toward the building’s main entrance.
Vince glanced back as he left the room.
Patrick Michaels had disappeared.
They could deal with Patrick later.
After the events of this day, the thugs Jess mentioned probably wouldn’t have capture on their minds. As she had indicated, capture had turned to kill.
Vince cracked the main entrance door and peered into the near darkness outside.
The city of Snoqualmie had not fully developed this property. Instead of bright city streetlights, only one weak light and a crescent moon threatened to expose them in the midnight darkness.
“Do you see anyone?” Jess’s head pressed against his shoulder.
The corner of the building lay to Vince’s left. The shadows covering the near end of the parking lot might give them cover to reach the corner. Beyond it, the forest began, offering more hiding places.
“No. I don’t see them.” If the gunmen who had chased Jess weren’t near, maybe they could get to his car and—
Her hand gripped his and squeezed. “Don’t even think about getting in your car. We’d never make it out of the parking lot. Curly and Moe are looking for me in the trees on the other side of the lot.”
“Then we’ll go around the corner and into the trees.” He tugged on her hand.
Jess leaped beside him.
They ran around the corner of the building. Now the building would give them cover from any shooter in the parking area.
With hands clasped, Vince and Jess sprinted to the trees, slowing as they entered the darkness of the forest canopy.
He glanced back before tree branches cut off visibility to the parking lot.
Two gunmen scurried toward Vince’s entry point into the forest.
“Keep going, Jess. They saw us.”
The two men slowed and
crept forward, ten yards apart, holding what looked like automatic rifles.
“Where’s the third guy?”
“I told you, Vince. I flattened Larry’s nose.”
“You kicked him?”
“Yes.”
“But that wouldn’t keep—”
“He’s a wimp. You can forget about him for now.”
“Jess, these aren’t The Three Stooges. You need to tell me who these guys really are.”
“I’m not sure. But, from the way they talk, I think they’re from New York.”
Cracking of twigs sounded behind them.
Vince took the lead. “Hurry. They're forcing us toward the road.”
“That's not good.”
“But it's not necessarily bad, unless they spot us crossing the highway. Let’s beat them to it.” He grabbed her hand and pulled.
“But on the other side of the highway is—”
“I know, Jess. The Snoqualmie River. Let's hope these goons—”
“No. Stooges. The Three Stooges. If you saw them you’d understand.”
“If these guys are The Three Stooges, why didn’t you just tell Larry to pick two?”
“Not funny, Vince.”
“That’s right. Even when we were kids, watching them on TV, you never did think they were funny.” Vince slowed to a walk in the shadow-shrouded forest. “I hope these guys aren't familiar with this area.”
The staccato belching of an automatic rifle sounded.
Vince dropped to his knees and pulled Jess down with him.
A branch above their heads dropped to the ground, filling the night air with the pungent odor of evergreen sap.
“Go, go, go!” Jess sprang forward, jerking Vince with her.
Vince sprinted by her and pulled Jess toward the highway.
She let him take the lead.
If he could break visual contact with their pursuers, maybe they could cross the highway unseen.
When they emerged from the trees, Vince led Jess onto the highway.
As they crossed the white centerline, fifty yards up the road, two shadowy figures emerged.
“Jump the ditch and go into the bushes.”
As they jumped the ditch lining the road, another burst of fire chewed up vegetation to their right.
Vince and Jess landed beyond the ditch and ran pell-mell through bushes and small trees.
“They know we crossed the highway, Vince.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“And the river is—”
“I know. But we'll be safe after we cross the river.”
“You've lost it, van Gordon. That water is swift. It’s coming straight from glaciers in the mountains. And you know what's two-hundred yards downstream?”
Vince pushed branches aside and stepped from the trees onto a dirt road. “Snoqualmie Falls. That's why I said cross the river and we'll be safe.”
“And that's why I said you’re crazy.”
“But there's a safety line just above the falls.” He pulled Jess toward the river, now only twenty yards ahead. “We’ll swim as hard as we can, then grab the safety line, when we drift into it, and—”
“Drift? Don't you mean when we get clotheslined by it?”
“We’ll grab the line and pull ourselves along it to the other side. They can't follow us.”
Jess stopped. “Just grab it? What if the current’s too strong and we miss it?”
Above the sound of rushing water, a deep rumble came like distant thunder.
He tugged on her hand to get her moving toward the water. “If we miss it … then, I guess we've got nothing to worry about.”
“Right. Nothing to worry about because we cross another river, the Jordan. I'm not ready for the Promised Land, yet.” She lowered her voice. “Because you and I—”
“Save it for later.” If there was a later for them. Regardless, Vince didn’t have time for distractions. And despite their danger, with her hand curled around his, Jess, the incredible girl he’d known since they were both five, was a big distraction.
The sound of rushing water grew louder.
Something grabbed Vince’s t-shirt and pulled. A thorn ripped into his left forearm. “Blackberries. Be careful.”
They skirted a blackberry bush.
The dark water of the river lay only a few steps in front of them. They needed to be in that water swimming, right now.
This night in early July was warm. Probably still in the upper sixties, though it was after midnight. But their ambient temperature would soon drop … thirty degrees.
Jess stopped and tried to pull him away from the river.
Vince overpowered her and pulled her with him. “Look at me, Jessica Jamison. We can do this. If you’ll swim upstream of me, I will take you to that rope. I can keep you safe.”
She stared at him without replying.
Crunching of leaves and twigs sounded upstream, barely audible above the sound of rushing water.
“Sounds like they're looking for us upriver,” Vince said.
“Of course,” Jess blew out a blast of air. “Because they don't think we’re crazy … not yet anyway.”
“But we’re crazy like a fox.”
“Don't you mean like a drowned rat?” She gasped when Vince pulled her into the icy water. “Vincent van Gordon, I’m going to cut off your ear myself.”
“Just cut the van Gogh stuff and swim hard. Don’t hold back anything.” Vince positioned his body downstream of hers, but the overpowering current already swept him downstream at a rate he hadn't anticipated.
Something else Vince hadn’t anticipated—twenty yards out, hardly a third of the way across, Jess’s arms slowed.
He dog paddled a few strokes and watched her.
After she raised an arm, it fell limp into the water. Though Jess could break boards with her legs, her fit and trim one-hundred-fifteen-pound body worked against her in the chilling water.
At two-hundred twenty, with about five pounds of insulation he could stand to lose, Vince fared much better. But how long would that last?
Over the past twenty seconds, the current had grown even stronger, propelling them downstream. They approached the dim lights of the Salish Lodge.
Jess was strong for her slender build, much stronger than most women, but her swimming power appeared gone. Hypothermia claimed several lives each year in the Snoqualmie and Vince and Jess now suffered from its insidious effects.
Vince’s injured left hand didn’t mind the frigid water. It had gone numb, ending the merciless throbbing, a consequence of his near fall from the rock face twelve hours earlier. He glanced at Jess, splashing in the water upstream from him.
Her stroke had degenerated further. She looked like someone taking their first swimming lesson.
Vince grabbed the back of her tank top and tried to tow her through the water. But forfeiting a swimming arm, and the increased drag of Jess’s body, slowed their progress.
How far were they? Halfway? Maybe. But they’d already used up more than half the distance to the falls. Not good.
Drowned rat seemed to be winning out over crazy like a fox. Vince was a fool to endanger Jess like this.
A dark object appeared downstream on the surface of the water. The safety line.
They hit it hard, before Vince had time to react.
He threw his free arm upward. It went over the line and jerked him to a stop.
But the current ripped Jess from his grip, pulling her under.
He stabbed the dark water with his free hand, grabbing for anything.
Her hand reached out of the water, but it slipped under the safety rope.
Vince ducked under the line. Gripping it with his sore left hand, he clamped his right onto Jess’s hand as it sped along the surface of the water.
In a fierce tug-of-war with the current, Vince hung onto Jess for life, for love, for anything and everything he’d ever wanted from life on planet Earth. He would let go of the rope before he would give up his grip on
Jess. Dying with her … Vince would take that over the alternative.
While the constant pull of the current drained his remaining arm strength, Vince inched Jess’s body upstream toward the rope.
Her head popped up. Jess’s free hand snagged the neck of his shirt and stretched it three or four sizes.
With his last bit of strength, Vince worked their bodies under the rope to the upstream side.
After Jess surfaced beside him, they planted their chests against the line.
Arms draped over the rope, Vince heaved deep breaths. Repaying his oxygen debt or going bankrupt? Too close to call.
The encroaching numbness claimed his toes and half of his feet. But the water seemed to have lost much of its biting chill. That probably was not a good thing. Hypothermia’s deadly grip had tightened on Vince van Gordon’s body, and they were hardly halfway across the river.
Now, a deep rumble resonated in his chest, reminding Vince of the importance of the safety line. He leaned close to Jess. “Make sure you've got a good grip on the rope. We'll go hand over hand. If you get tired, put your arms over the rope and rest.”
“The water is sucking out all my energy. I've never felt anything like this. I—I’m not sure I can make it.”
“We can do this. Only twenty yards to go. Less than that to shallow water.” He had fudged a little on the distance, but Jess needed encouragement, because—
Gunshots.
Columns of water exploded into the air around them.
The flashes of light had come from a spot on the shore even with Vince and Jess.
Despite the near darkness, gunmen with automatic weapons could easily spray them with bullets from this distance. Even a flesh wound would be fatal, given the current and the water temperature.
The thought of Jess taking a bullet—he couldn't let that happen.
More gunfire.
They had only one option.
Vince hooked an arm around Jess’s waist and, before she could protest, pulled her beneath the frigid water.
Under the water, Vince kicked hard for the shore and pawed the water with his free hand.
They bobbed up several yards downstream of the safety line.