by James Ponti
Marty decided to try a friendlier approach. “He likes you, Jack. Hates to see you wasting your God-given talent giving fat tourists cab rides up and down the Strip. What kind of life is that?”
“One that I’m late for,” Jack answered as he tried to squeeze past them to the cab’s driver-side door.
Reaching out, Frank went to grab Jack. With lightning-quick speed, Jack gripped Frank by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Frank let out a quick yelp of pain as Jack slam his attacker’s face into the cab’s hood with a loud thud.
Now Marty lunged at him. But Jack managed to grab Marty with his other hand and slam his attacker’s face against the cab. In seconds, Jack had both thugs pinned against the hood.
“Section eight, paragraph three,” Jack said, reciting from the Nevada code of taxi statutes and regulations.“As a fully licensed cabdriver in the state of Nevada, I am within my rights to deny passage to any potential fare I consider dangerous. You are, of course, entitled to file a written complaint with the state.”
Satisfied that he had made his point, Jack released both men, got into his cab, and drove off. As he drove, he attempted to calm his racing heart. The traffic wasn’t helping. Trying to maneuver around it, he glanced in the rearview mirror—and slammed on the brakes. Sitting in the backseat were two teenagers, a boy and a girl, who had definitely not been there before.
Jack stopped right there in the middle of traffic, causing a chain reaction of other cars slamming on their brakes and swerving to miss him. Jack spun around to look at his passengers.
“Where did you come from?” he demanded.
“Outside,” the boy answered.
“I figured that part out on my own,” Jack snapped. “How did you get into my car?”
The girl pointed at the door. “Through that portal.”
Jack couldn’t make any sense of this. Even after the distraction of the argument with the goons, he would have heard, or at least seen, them come through the door. Besides, he wondered, what teenager calls a door a portal?
Traffic was backing up, and angry drivers were honking their horns. With no other choice, Jack put the taxi into drive and started down the street.
“I am Seth,” the boy said. Then he pointed to the girl. “My sister, Sara. We require your transportation services immediately,” Seth continued.
Jack gave Seth a skeptical look and said, “Well, I require—”
Before he could finish, Sara completed his sentence for him. “A currency transaction.”
Again with the strange slang, Jack mused.
Seth reached over the front seat to show Jack a huge wad of cash. “Will this amount suffice?” he asked.
“What did you do?” Jack asked, his eyes wide. “Rob a bank?”
“Is this acceptable, Jack Bruno?” Sara asked.
“Wait,” Jack said. “How did you know my name?”
Sara pointed at the cabdriver’s license, which was displayed by the meter.
“If we have a deal for your services, we must move forward rapidly,” Seth insisted. “ It is urgent we get to our destination without delay.”
Jack hesitated. There was something very strange about these kids, especially the way they talked. Then again, “strange” was a word that could have described many of Jack’s customers. And their money sure was real enough. . . .
“All right, all right,” Jack said. “Where to?”
Seth and Sara shared a look. They didn’t know how to describe where they wanted to go. Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a device that looked a lot like a compass.
“I need an address,” Jack said. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“We need to travel in that direction,” Sara said, pointing to the highway entrance ramp.
Jack almost groaned. Already this was proving to be a troublesome fare. “Gonna need something a little more specific than ‘that direction,’” he said.
Seth nodded. “We must locate latitude 40.54 cross-intersecting longitude 117.48 within a fractional percentage.”
That’s a real help, Jack almost said. Instead, he commented, “I think we’re going to just stick with ‘that direction.’”
CHAPTER 5
The mobile command center was a hotbed of activity.
As Burke’s team manned superfast computers wired into a variety of government, satellite, law-enforcement, and security networks, he paced. Back and forth he strode, his eyes scanning the nonstop stream of images that zipped across the many screens.
Carson was marking locations on a computer map interface that used aerial images of the crash scene and surrounding areas. “We tracked the two sets of EBE footprints on and off for 7.3 miles,” he informed Burke. “Finally losing them at a rest stop off the highway.” A line on his computer screen blinked, indicating the path of the footprints. Carson clicked at the end of the trail, and security-camera images of the rest stop grew larger on the screen.
Pope, meanwhile, was rapidly searching through a database of law-enforcement logs and police-incident reports. One entry stood out. “Four hours and nineteen minutes post-impact, there was a highway-patrol incident report filed at that very same rest stop,” he said excitedly.
Pope quickly typed a password override and was able to read the entire incident report.
“A car trunk burglarized,” he said as he quickly scanned the patrolman’s report. “No sign of forced entry. No valuables taken . . .”
Burke didn’t hide his frustration.“Give me something better than that, Mr. Pope,” he demanded.
Pope smiled as he continued reading from the incident report. “. . . except for clothing belonging to a fifteen-year-old-boy and girl.” He turned and looked right at his boss, eager to impress him.“I think it’s better than a possibility that they look human.”
The group considered this development. Up to this point, all they had to go on were footprints. But this information indicated that the aliens looked like a teenage boy and girl, and that changed everything.
Carson shook his head. “They can hide in plain sight.”
But Burke wasn’t discouraged. He always liked a good challenge, and at least they were getting somewhere. “We’re in the game, people,” he told them. “Two kids don’t walk down the highway alone at night. I need some options on how they were able to evade capture.”
Carson’s fingers started dancing across his keyboard as he scanned through video stills from a security camera at the rest stop. He slowed down when the time stamp on the video neared the time of the incident report. For a few minutes there was absolutely no activity. Then he froze the tape on an image of a tour bus.
“We have a bus landing roughly at the same time at the same rest stop,” he said. Carson shuttled through the video of passengers getting off the bus to stretch their legs or use the restroom.
“Thirty-nine people exit,” he said as the last one got off. Then he sped the images forward until the people started getting back on board. “It looks like the bus picked up some extra baggage.” He hit a button, and the image froze.
The black-and-white image was taken at night and was grainy, but there was no mistaking what they saw. There were now two new figures in the middle of the group, and they were getting back on the bus. They couldn’t see their faces, but both appeared to be teenagers.
“We have a mode of escape and an extraction point,” Burke called out to the others. “I need to know where the package was delivered. We’re losing time.”
Matheson didn’t need to be told twice. He zoomed the camera in. “Nevada plates: Charlie-Peru-3-5-5-3-1,” he read while simultaneously typing them into his computer. Within seconds a flood of information started running across his screen.
“Silver State Trailways,” he continued. “Route schedule indicates . . . next stop . . . Sin City.”
“Odds are strong our targets are in Las Vegas,” Burke said, looming over the others. “Find them.”
Pope didn’t need to be told twice. He hacked into
a camera feed from outside the city’s main bus terminal and announced, “Eight twenty-five a.m. the vehicle rolled into the Silver State Trailways depot on Ogden Avenue.”
They were getting closer. Pope scrolled through the footage until something caught his eye. As he zoomed in, the grainy image got even more difficult to see. The group still couldn’t make out the faces, but it looked like the same two kids from the rest stop were in the picture.
“Our targets have entered a heavily populated city,” Burke announced. “Too many unmanageable options for hiding and human interaction. I want total access to every single surveillance camera Vegas has.”
Anticipating Burke’s order, Carson had already bypassed two separate firewalls and was deep inside the grid of cameras that were positioned throughout the city. “We’re interlinking the system,” he informed Burke.
Despite the amazing speed and skill his team was displaying, Burke was not satisfied. He wanted results. Every second lost increased the chance of these two disappearing—for good. That was unacceptable.
“The targets are on foot,” he reminded everyone. “Walk with them.”
In a flash, maps of Las Vegas appeared on their screens, and they started tracing out possible routes the teenagers may have used after leaving the bus station.
“We have their vehicle,” Burke said,“so we know they didn’t fly away. They’re out there somewhere.”
“Freeman Street at Main to be exact,” Matheson informed the others. “I have activity at an ATM. Twelve forty-three p.m.”
Once again, he brought up a grainy image taken by a security camera. On the video, two teenagers carefully approached the automated teller machine. They didn’t come all the way up to it, though, so their faces were still off-camera. As the men watched, suddenly, even though neither kid had moved even a finger, the ATM started spitting out a steady stream of cash.
“Bank records indicate they withdrew the entire contents of the machine,” he continued.“They never used a card, and they never touched the machine. Not once.”
“Whoa,” Pope gasped. This was the real deal. “Nice trick.”
Burke considered the video and what it meant. “Gentlemen, it seems our EBEs possess some extraordinary skills.”
Carson’s eyes lit up as something else on the video feed caught his eye.“Who found themselves a ride? Stewart Avenue, one twenty-nine p.m. Keep your eyes on the yellow cab, lower left of the screen.”
As they looked at the monitor, they saw the two teenagers approaching Jack’s cab. Right before getting in, they turned back toward the camera. For the first time Burke and his team got a glimpse of Seth’s and Sara’s faces. The image remained frozen on the screen.
Burke studied their faces on the monitor, trying to take a mental picture. Even though the black-and-white footage was hard to make out, their eyes were haunting.
What were they hiding? And more importantly, why were they here?
CHAPTER 6
As Jack’s cab drove along the highway far north of Las Vegas, he wondered—not for the first time—if taking this fare had been a mistake. He looked over his shoulder at Seth and Sara.
“Are we there yet?” he asked. The subtle joke was lost on the kids.
“We are not there yet, Jack Bruno,” Sara said. She rubbed a pendant that hung around her neck.
The meter was already at $397.85 and climbing fast. “Your parents going to be okay with spending all this money?” he asked.
“We have previously agreed upon our financial deal,” Seth said, his tone, as usual, serious. “If your concern is . . .”
Jack cut him off before he could finish. “My concern is that I got two kids with a wad of cash and a drop-off location in the middle of nowhere,” he responded. “Which in my book reads like a chapter called ‘Running Away.’”
“Jack Bruno,” Sara interrupted. “Those vehicles behind us are indicating a pattern of pursuit.”
“As a counter maneuver,” Seth added, “I would suggest you increase your velocity to maximum thrust.”
“Speeding? Not on your life. Speeding gets you tickets and tickets cost money,” Jack said as he looked at a stack of unpaid parking tickets on the passenger seat. “And if you don’t pay them off and you get one more ticket, you lose your license.” He looked over his shoulder at them. “Jack Bruno can’t lose his license.” He looked through the rear window and didn’t see any cars on the road.
“Besides,” he added, “there are no vehicles behind us.”
Just then a large black SUV came into view behind him. Suddenly two more SUVs appeared behind the first one.
“At your current rate of speed versus theirs,” Seth quickly computed, “they will overtake our vehicle in less than one mile.”
Jack shook his head. “Just because they’re speeding, doesn’t mean they’re following us,” he assured them. “People speed.”
Even though Jack had said it, he wasn’t exactly sure he was right. He checked the rearview mirror and saw that the cars were gaining fast.
“I’m going to let them pass,” he said.
Jack slowed down to forty-five miles per hour, expecting them to zip right by. Instead, the SUVs slowed down to match his speed.
That was a little suspect. Still, he’d rather give them the benefit of the doubt. Jack rolled down his window and waved for them to pass. “Open road, people,” he called out. “It’s all yours.”
He checked his side mirror, but they gave no indication of trying to pass. Definitely suspect. Squinting, he tried to get a glimpse of who was in the vehicle, but the windows were too tinted.
The lead SUV started to pull up right alongside Jack’s cab. First it pulled up even with the backseat, so it seemed to Jack that whoever was inside could take a long look at Seth and Sara.Then it pulled up to the front seat so that they could look at Jack, too.
Suddenly, the lead SUV pulled ahead and passed the cab. Jack breathed a sigh of relief and looked back at the kids.
“See, what did I tell you?”
But he had spoken too soon.
“Jack Bruno!” Sara yelled from the backseat as she pointed toward the windshield.
Jack whipped around and saw the SUV perform a tricky maneuver that spun it around and had it coming to a stop directly in front of them.
As Jack slammed on the brakes, another SUV purposely slammed into the back of their car.
With amazing speed, Jack yanked on the emergency brake, causing the car to fishtail. Then he gunned the accelerator so that it spun back around. It was an expert maneuver that allowed the taxi to miss both vehicles. Clearly, Jack had more than just cab-driving experience.
“Get down!” he ordered Sara and Seth.“Both of you! Now!”
The SUVs kept chasing Jack, trying to squeeze him in.
“Hold on!” he warned the kids just before he slammed on the brakes again. When he did, the two SUVs that were about to push into the cab shot past them and slammed into each other instead. They spun out of control and flipped over onto the side of the highway.
Once those two SUVs were out of the picture, Jack gunned the gas again and roared past them down the highway. There was only one vehicle left chasing him.
Jack assumed that these were more of Wolfe’s goons trying to send him a message. But they weren’t. It was Burke’s team.
Sitting in the remaining SUV, Burke was re-evaluating the man they were pursuing. He had just taken out two specially trained military pursuit drivers.
“He is just a cabdriver, correct?” Burke asked.
Carson was at the wheel. He shifted into high gear to stay on Jack’s tail, his eyes shooting daggers.
Meanwhile, in the backseat of the cab, Seth was taking matters into his own hands. He pulled his knees up to his chest as if he were making a cannonball and squinted in concentration. Unbeknownst to Jack, Seth’s body started to dematerialize! He phased through the backseat and right through the cab itself.
He rematerialized on the side of the highway. Purpose
fully, he strode into the middle of the road—directly in the path of the oncoming vehicle!
“Look out!” Burke yelled from inside the SUV.
Carson slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The vehicle crashed into Seth. But instead of hurting the boy, the SUV catapulted into the air, did a complete roll, and skidded along the highway. It came to a stop, a tangled mass of metal.
Inside the cab, Sara panicked. She was not about to leave her brother behind. Using her own telekinetic powers, she mentally took control of Jack’s taxi. First she made the brakes lock, causing the car to skid to a stop.
“What now?” Jack asked, confused.
Then the tires started spinning backward, and the cab raced down the highway in reverse. Jack pumped the brakes, but the cab’s speed kept increasing.
Back at the wreckage of Burke’s SUV, Seth phased right through the tangled metal until he was hovering face-to-face with Burke.
The two stared at each other for a moment before Seth gave a warning: “Stop following us!”
Burke was too stunned to react. Seth phased back through the wreckage and onto the road. Burke looked up and saw Jack’s cab heading right for them.
“Get out! Get out!” he yelled to the others in the SUV, but there was no time. The four of them braced for impact. But the taxi miraculously came to a stop—inches away from them.
Jack took a deep breath. “You both okay?” he asked, clutching the steering wheel.
“We are,” Sara said.
Just then Seth phased back into the cab. Jack had no idea that he’d been gone.
“We should just keep moving,” Seth said.
Jack didn’t need to be told twice. If those men were connected to Wolfe, he wanted to be as far from them as possible. He hit the gas and sped away.
Burke watched as the taxi disappeared into the horizon. “I want a complete profile on the driver,” he told his team.
Matheson nodded. “Do you think he’s collaborating?”
Burke wasn’t sure how much Jack knew about the passengers in the back of his cab. But as far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter.