by Scott McEwen
The door to the Valor plane opened, and there began one of the swiftest mission preps in U.S. military history. Hair and makeup teams descended; the Valor kids were assigned their instruments and shown how to mock playing them. And while the ground team was getting ready, everyone kept an eye on the main event, like she herself was a grenade with a loose pin.
“Leigh Ann,” said Mary Alice, approaching the woman who stood just outside the group, nervously biting her cuticles. “I’m the team leader for Group-A. They told me you have been training on your own, but there are some things I need to go over with you before the mission today, okay?”
“Yes, the mission,” Leigh Ann repeated, watching Mary Alice load the M4.
“This weapon looks exactly like the weapon you received in the mail, but it’s been replaced with the kind they use in Hollywood.”
“Okay,” Leigh Ann said nervously.
“It’s been modified, so it can fire in automatic position, but you have to be careful—these are prone to jamming.” She held out the assault rifle. “Now, you’re going to hold the rifle to your shoulder like this … and you want to aim your sights right at the head or the chest.”
“Oh my god,” Leigh Ann whispered, taking the M4 and shouldering it as she was told.
“Steady. Look where you want to shoot.”
“Are you sure those are blanks?”
“Yes,” Mary Alice said calmly. “They’re blanks.”
“What if I can’t do this?”
“You have to. Stop thinking of yourself as a victim … you’re a soldier. And in doing this, you’re not going to hurt us, you are going to save us … Now, aim and squeeze the trigger.”
Leigh Ann looked through the crosshairs at the dummy—a head with the little Henryson girl’s picture attached to the face—and pulled the trigger.
* * *
In the NOC war room, all eyes were on Leigh Ann Davidson, the emotionally damaged woman now at the center of the operation to ensnare the world’s most wanted terrorist, as she sat down at a table and logged into Wickr. Her interface played on the big screens, and everything was silent except for the sound of tapping as she hunted-and-pecked keys.
Today is the day, she typed, including with the message a link to the school’s website that detailed the change of locations for the band rehearsal. Rehearsal moved up due to weather. It’s in the auditorium.
She waited. Less than thirty seconds later, she got a response.
GrievingDad_12: This is distressing news. This changes a lot.
4Ava: Should we abort mission?
GrievingDad_12: No. We must adapt. Plan remains the same. Change your schedule. I will be with you, watching. And able to help if you fail.
Elaine looked over at Mr. Yellow and saw a flash of alarm in his bland eyes.
“What does that mean? I thought I was going in alone,” Leigh Ann said as another message dinged.
GrievingDad_12: I am doing this for all of the lost children.
“We need to be on high alert.” Elaine rose to her feet.
“What does he mean, ‘able to help if you fail’?” Leigh Ann was still frozen in her seat.
“I think he’s trying to mind-game you, to make you feel like if you fail there’s a backup plan. Take the pressure off you. But I can’t know for sure.” The SecDef paced. “We’re going to stage a shooting without a single run-through. This is insane.”
“They’re professionals,” Mr. Yellow said calmly.
“If this goes sideways, I’m gonna kill you.” Elaine jammed her finger in his chest.
“If this goes sideways, I’d welcome it,” said Mr. Yellow.
CHAPTER 54
Jalen sat alone in the safe house and hit send on a text to Hi Kyto: Morning. Still feel like playin hooky?
The reply was quick: Yeah! Definitely.
OK, be by in half an hour.
Do I need to bring anything special?
Good shoes. We may go off the trail a bit.
Jalen stood and walked around in circles as he waited for a response. Minutes later, the phone buzzed again.
Hey, I need to stop at Red Trident. Let’s push our trip until noon.
No problem, Jalen texted back. He thought about what this meant, if anything. The rehearsal was planned for 4 p.m. Eastern. If she can’t meet until noon Pacific, that’s 3 p.m. on the East Coast. She’d be away from her computer at noon and hiking during the attack. She’d be cleared. But it would be close. If she pushed the trip back any further, it would be possible she could launch the system to record the attack and go hiking.
But there was another fear that gripped Jalen, an idea about Encyte that had not yet been shared, which he felt had been overlooked and which he, in fact, was afraid to even mention, lest it come true. What if Encyte was more than one person? It made sense. Why couldn’t Encyte be more than one person? What if Hi Kyto worked as part of a team?
Jalen paced around the room, circling and hypothesizing, wishing to god that Wyatt was still with him.
* * *
The Valor campers, in military formation, filed out of the hangar toward the bright yellow school bus that was already running on the tarmac. Bringing up the rear was Cass, dressed in a pantsuit and a red wig, hair pulled back in a bun like she’d seen in pictures of the Fairfax band instructor. There were twelve in total, their ages ranging from eleven to sixteen. After a seven-hour flight with the world’s best makeup artists, their own parents wouldn’t have recognized them, though from a distance, the proud parents of twelve band campers would.
“Let’s move quickly, guys,” Viktoria said as the bus doors hissed open and the Valorians climbed inside. Though it was against decades of Valor protocol to send Junior Rovers into the field—particularly ones who had not completed a first summer of training—with only seven hours to execute, Eldon had no choice. So the members of Group-A—Mary Alice, Rory, Samy, Pierce—were joined by the Junior Rovers, the freckle-faced Cody leading the team.
Viktoria hopped in the driver’s seat, and the bus pulled out, heading for Fairfax Middle School. Along its way, it passed another school bus, one loaded with the real band campers en route to a secure facility where Mr. Yellow and a team of local police would be waiting. The real Fairfax band members—grumpy and confused—were informed that this was a safety drill. All of them were completely unaware that kids their same age had just voluntarily taken their place in a potential slaughter.
Mr. Yellow stood in the cool vacant warehouse, under the fluorescent lights, answering their many questions:
Yes, you have to participate in the drill.
Yes, you will get your instruments back at the end of the day.
No, you cannot call your parents.
“Where are the Henrysons?” Mr. Yellow asked, looking over the dozen kids for the twins.
A well-dressed, good-looking brother and sister raised their hands. “Right here,” the boy said politely.
Mr. Yellow stepped away from the group and whispered into the radio. “We got them. They’re safe.”
“Roger that,” Eldon said from the school parking lot where he and Avi were stationed in a tactical van outfitted with communications linked directly to the school’s IoT infrastructure, the Tor browser, and Red Trident.
Once the Valor kids were in position, Eldon again briefed the local SWAT and FBI teams on what would be taking place in less than fifteen minutes. “There will be one female shooter with a weapon loaded with blanks … Be alert. We don’t know what’s coming. There could be other forms of attack: drones, planes, hidden bombs … just about anything could come through those doors.”
CHAPTER 55
The doors of the Darsie Pavilion swung open, and Hi Kyto stepped out wearing her trademark hoodie, a signature T-shirt, tight blue jeans, torn at the knees, and a backpack slung over her shoulder.
“Hi,” she said cheerily. “Been waiting long?”
Immediately, Jalen noticed something different about her face. She had her same natura
l beauty, but her dark eyes had been lined and her lips slightly glossed.
“Just got here.” He smiled. “What’s up?”
“You ready to do this?” she asked excitedly.
“You bet.” Jalen pulled up his Uber app and requested a ride to Muir Woods. “You look really…” Jalen paused, feeling his stomach swirl again. “Pretty.”
Hi Kyto smiled, about to say something as a motorcycle hummed toward them. “Oh, look,” she said. “Morg!”
Morg eased his Tecate motorcycle to the curb alongside them and flipped up the black visor on his helmet. “Hey, guys.” His eyes gleamed. “Jay, what brings you over this way?”
“What’s up?” Jalen gritted his teeth and reached to slap Morg’s hand, but Morg kept his grip on the handlebars.
“We’re going hiking,” Hi Kyto said cheerily.
“Aw man, I’m slammed today. Otherwise, I’d come with.”
“Next time,” Jalen said, not mentioning that Morg was not invited. Jalen flagged down the Uber driver who’d just pulled up.
“You know, Jay,” Morg said. “Ever since the boat ride, I couldn’t shake it. I knew you looked familiar, and then I did a little research into CV_kyd’s game history. Decent record. Interesting what else I found out.”
Jalen wiped his forehead, which was suddenly soaked with sweat. “What’s that?”
“You’re just not who I thought you were.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hi Kyto laughed and looked over at Jalen.
“Nothing.” Morgan stared at Jalen. “Nothing at all, really.” His Apple Watch buzzed, breaking the trance. “Gotta take this,” he said, putting his mouth to his wrist.
Jalen ducked into the back of the waiting Uber. “Let’s go.”
Hi Kyto slipped into the back seat beside him. “See you, Morg!” she said as she closed the door.
* * *
Makeup aside, there was another glow about Hi Kyto as she leaned against the window in the back seat of the sedan, the blue sky and red cables of the bridge as her backdrop. She was a postcard: sunlight streaming in on her smiling face.
“I was up all night,” Hi Kyto said, almost manic with enthusiasm. “Thinking about our ride yesterday, and then I started Googling mountain biking videos.”
As their driver headed north out of the city, Jalen tried to relax. If he could just get her to Muir Woods, she would be safe, assuming she was not part of a network. The farther they got from campus, the more he felt like he was waking up from a dream. From a nightmare that Hi Kyto was a monster killer. This would be over soon. In a matter of hours, they would have the truth, and Wyatt and Darsie would see that they’d been wrong. All the lying could stop.
“Think I’m gonna buy a bike,” Hi Kyto continued, still in her own world. “I want a Kona. I was looking at them last night. It’s just crazy that, like, I literally don’t think I’ve ever jogged around the corner. I mean, in gym class, I might’ve pretended to jog, but yesterday was the first time that I’ve actually sweated from exercise. I’m so sore, but I don’t even care.”
Jalen glanced at the clock on the dashboard: 12:25. Almost go-time on the East Coast. He took a breath. Nothing to worry about.
“Sure you’re okay?” Hi Kyto asked. “You seem … like you wandered off somewhere … in your own Muir Woods in your head.”
“Yeah, I was just … I’m sorry.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m here now.”
“You gotta relax.” She rolled down her window. “It feels so good. Breaking routine. Breathing real air. Being free.”
“Yeah, it does.” He reached over and without thinking, took her hand, lacing his sweaty fingers between hers. The sea glittering and eternal beneath them.
CHAPTER 56
At 3:45 p.m., Leigh Ann’s sedan pulled into Fairfax Middle School and parked in a handicap spot. Limping, she got out and walked around to the trunk and with great effort, she pulled out the ratty oversized wheelchair, unfolded it, and rolled her way to the entrance ramp.
“Hello, ma’am, who are you here to see?” The guard at the door wore a starchy brown uniform and a wide smile.
“Principal Skinner,” Leigh Ann said, rifling through the purse that sat on her lap. “My daughter may come here in the fall.”
“You know there’s an open house at the end of the school year.”
“I just recently relocated, so I had scheduled a meeting now.” Leigh Ann smiled.
“Okay, write your name down on the badge, and we’ll have you go through the security detector.”
Leigh Ann scribbled the name Carolyn on the name tag and stuck it to her chest, right above her pounding heart.
“Here, darling, let me help ya.” The security guard held out his hand, and as predicted, made it all too easy. He pulled her to her feet, and holding her breath, she hobbled through the metal detector without a beep.
Leigh Ann looked nervous, but she hoped the guard would chalk it up to being without her chair.
“Just a sec.” The guard gave her a wink and wheeled the chair around the scanner and helped her sit back down.
“Whew,” Leigh Ann said, adjusting her purse back in her lap. “Thank you so much. You’re too kind.”
The guard nodded and left Leigh Ann to wheel herself down the hallway toward the sounds of a classical symphony that drifted underneath the double doors of the gymnasium.
She stopped in the bathroom, and shedding her limp, wheeled into the handicap stall, disassembled the chair, and reassembled the M4 assault rifle she’d hidden inside it. In the seat of the wheelchair were eight extra magazines loaded with sixty rounds of blanks each. Seeing the ammunition, which looked so real, her heart spasmed and her face began to sweat. She sat down on the toilet seat, prayed that a mistake had not been made, and real bullets were not in the gun. She logged into Wickr, and sent a message: I’m in.
CHAPTER 57
The Uber was nearing the north exit of the Golden Gate Bridge when Hi Kyto’s phone buzzed. Her warm hand slipped away and she pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket.
“Oh shit,” she said, looking at the message.
“What?” Jalen sat up. “What is it?”
“I totally screwed up … I’ve got a deadline. Back at the lab. I’ve got to get back right now.”
“Now?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry.” She tapped the Uber driver on the shoulder. “Sir, can we please turn around? I’ll pay the extra fare.”
Jalen’s heart thrummed in his ears.
“Miss, I’ll try,” Uber driver said. “But look.” He pointed to the wall of red taillights ahead of them. “It’s a parking lot.”
“You’re right. You know what, I’m just going to get out right now. I can walk to the other side and catch an Uber headed south.”
“Hang on.” Jalen tried to grab her hand.
“I’m so sorry I ruined the day, Jay.” She opened the door. “But I’ll call.”
“Julie, what the hell?” Jalen was so panicked he used her real name. “Please. Just wait.”
He grabbed her hoodie, but she jerked away.
“I told you. I have a deadline. One of my labmates just texted me. If I don’t get back, we can’t ship our product, we can’t ship updates.”
“What do you mean … ship software?”
“Jay, you gotta let me go. Look, we can do the hike another day. Maybe even today, but I just need three hours—I’m sorry.”
Jalen watched as Hi Kyto jumped out, bobbed through the cars, and began running south on the bridge. Dammit! He banged his fist on the seat. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his phone and called Darsie. “She’s running,” Jalen screamed as he jumped out of the sedan.
“What do you mean running?” Darsie yelled.
“Down the bridge. On the 101. Headed south.”
“Where the hell is she going?”
“The lab,” Jalen said, his legs pumping, cars honking, and he dipped and ducked through traffic.
“The lab?” Darsie
said in his ear. “That doesn’t make sense. If she operates from the lab, we’ll be able to track her. Don’t lose her!”
“I’m trying,” Jalen said, watching as she slipped into a gray sedan with the U sticker in the window.
* * *
Jalen’s thighs burned, weaving between cars and pedestrians. He grabbed a bike outside a coffee shop and pedaled hard, trailing the sedan, a hipster behind him screaming, “Hey! Someone just stole my bike!”
He followed for at least eight or nine miles, but in one of the hilliest cities in America, on a two-foot peddler, it was a lost cause.
He watched the sedan hook a hard right and head north, in the opposite direction of the university, and speed-dialed Darsie.
“Tell me you still have eyes on her,” Darsie said.
“Lost her,” Jalen panted. “But I know the direction. She was lying about going back to the lab. The Uber is headed to the Mission.”
Jalen looked at his watch—12:45. Fifteen minutes. Leigh Ann must be arriving at the school.
“Think I can catch her,” Jalen said. “Traffic ahead.”
Thanks to some construction, Jalen caught up with the car and watched from a block and a half away as Hi Kyto got out and began walking briskly north, into the heart of Chinatown. He ditched the bike and ran, following her for a few blocks, the smells of food wafting out of the stalls, the streets bustling and busy. Hi Kyto, her hoodie now pulled up, was a dark figure, dipping and ducking just a hill ahead of him. He knew that running down the streets of Chinatown was attracting too much attention, so he slowed down to a fast walk and followed as she cut through a dumpling stall and down an alley. He peered around the corner, fifty yards into the alley, just as Hi Kyto entered the rear ground floor of a tenement-style building, a steel door slamming behind her.
Jalen dialed Darsie. “She’s gone into a building in Chinatown,” Jalen yelled. “Darsie, do you hear me?”