by Declan Finn
The ex-spy frowned. Could she be so egotistical that she would have standing orders for her own son to be killed if she died? Or is that just all of her employees? “Why? Did you wire the medical nanites of your employees to self-destruct if you died?”
Kaye blinked again. It was a hard blink, as though she had been slapped in the face. Which was strange, because he hadn’t said anything he thought was particularly harsh. Unless she could read his mind, but he wouldn’t have given her technology that much credit. There were only two possibilities that came to mind. Either he had grossly exaggerated what she had done…
Or grossly underestimated what she had done.
“No,” Kaye said. “It’s a little more serious than that.”
Kevin wasn’t listening to her. To anything she had said. Pieces were clicking into place. There was tons of supposition involved. Guesswork and patches of data, awareness of personality profiles, and technology. There were all sorts of leaps in logic. But it all led to one, inescapable conclusion. All he could think of was their conversation when this serial killer crisis had begun. What she had done against his advice. She had made the failsafe, Masada, real, so that if San Francisco died, everyone else would go with her.
Kevin suddenly went very tense. And very, very, controlled. “Kaye,” he said slowly, “what did you do?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I – I did nothing. Nothing that could endanger anyone. It was the most efficient way to handle everything.”
“Kaye … what did you do?”
“It was the most harmless way I could think of. Alcatraz could be bombed. This outpost could be raided. We couldn’t move something like that. Something stable, but that could be moved quickly and efficiently, at a moment’s notice. Something that would last forever.”
Kevin’s mask broke. His patience, his calm, his professionalism, were all being kept in check by a fragile coating of superglue. “What did you do, you egomaniacal bitch?” he roared.
“I wired Masada to my heartbeat. If I die, the world dies with me!”
Chapter 31: A Priest, a Merc, and an Assassin Walk Into a Doctor’s Office
Kyle Elsen sat in the waiting room of Doctor Gabriel Sieger’s office, bored out of his mind. He rolled his dagger from one finger to the other, back and forth, impatient to get out of that damned office, and back to killing Alek.
The only other person in the waiting room was the silver-haired priest, Father Jack. The priest sat in the corner of the office, rosary in hand, thumbing the prayer beads as his lips moved.
“Don’t you find that boring?” Kyle asked.
Jack’s violet eyes flicked to Kyle as he finished his prayer and crossed himself. “You really should come back to church sometime.”
Kyle frowned thoughtfully. “Rules for accepting communion include being in a State of Grace. I’m reasonably certain that killing people on a regular basis works against that. No matter how much they have it coming.”
Jack shrugged. “Point taken. Try confession again.”
Kyle smiled slightly, almost dreamily. “You realize that I don’t actually feel guilty about killing people, right?”
“I have to try.”
Kyle grunted, then went back to twirling the dagger.
Jack put away the rosary. “Is there somewhere else you have to be?”
“I have someone to kill. Mister Anderson called me away from an important meeting with him.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Then why are you here?”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed, his frown deepened, and he muttered his response.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“Mister Anderson is, annoyingly, my friend. And he sounded … not himself.”
“So the Doctor explained when we arrived. Does Kevin often threaten said Doctor?”
“Not as frequently as everyone else does. The Doctor is either angering someone, or directly insulting them. For Mister Anderson to do it is new.”
The front door opened. Kyle’s dagger flashed into his hand, ready to carve through practically anyone.
Luckily for Major Rohaz and his cohort of mercenaries, Kyle recognized the uniforms in time. He would hate to have to listen to the Doctor whining about blood spatter and bodies. Yeah, the Doctor was a bit of a whiny little wimp about that on occasion.
Rohaz came up to the two of them, and nodded the assassin’s way. “Kyle.”
Kyle stood and smoothed out his shirt. “Major. Pardon me, I’ve got better things to do than babysit a priest.”
Rohaz raised his HUD visor, then arched a brow. “You’re not worried about being a target?”
Kyle stopped and stared at Rohaz, as though the mercenary had just accused him of being something silly – like a mortal human being. “Really?”
Chapter 32: The Center Cannot Hold
It was a hard thing to acknowledge that you were partially responsible for ending the world.
When Kevin Anderson had first suggested to Kaye Wellering that a great way to discourage anyone on the east coast from vaporizing San Francisco, or doing something else to harm its inhabitants, it was an offhand comment. If we go, they go, he had said.
But to think that the entire planet earth was now in danger of going up in a nuclear holocaust that made the last one look like a wet firecracker all because one woman with a god complex decided that she was going to live forever…
It was more than Kevin could really take.
But instead of going crazier, Kevin shut down, like a nuclear core with an automatic shut off switch. He stood in the center of “Omar Zephyr’s” (Kaye Wellering’s) Chinatown office, and his entire body relaxed. His vision tunneled, and he saw things with such crystal clarity that he could swear that he could make out Kaye’s pores, and the very light speckling of freckles over her nose.
“How would it work?” he asked, his voice unnaturally calm. “The nanites in your body …what? They work like my medical nanites, I guess, but better. Much better. You obviously think that you will live forever. Maybe you can. Maybe you could survive old age. A car crash. A tumble down the stairs. But can you survive a broken neck? A bullet to the head?”
Kaye swallowed. “The risk of anyone wanting to kill me–”
Kevin’s fist crashed down onto her desk. “Isn’t something you wager the life of the planet on!” He pointed in the general vicinity of New York. “My family still lives in the real world. And you’re telling me that they could be wiped out if you break a heel and take a header down the stairs? And that was the best idea you came up with? Are you insane?”
Kaye looked at him like a child having a tantrum. Pointing out her miscalculations was one thing. Insulting her was something she wouldn’t put up with. “I may be insane, Mr. Anderson, but I still have enough security measures in this office to put you down like the rabid dog you are.”
Kevin gave her the most humorless smile she’d ever seen in all over her 83 years. “Go ahead,” he sneered. “Because when your son comes and spatters your brains all over the walls of this building, I won’t have to be around for the fireworks when the sky turns black from nuclear ash!” he said, his voice rising again.
Kaye’s eyes narrowed. “Want to bet, Anderson?” She turned to her computer without another thought and started typing. “I can broadcast a signal to turn him off. We can bring him in. I have a dedicated line for just such an occasion.”
Without thinking, Kevin reached over the desk, grabbed her by the throat, again, and plucked her out of her chair, walked her over to the other end of the room, and placed her down. “Do it from over here, wirelessly. This man has become an expert in ways to kill people, and I suspect that includes explosives.”
She sighed and pulled out her palmtop. “This is ridiculous. I tell you that no one in my Union would—”
Kaye’s computer exploded. The desk was ripped apart, and everything behind it had been riddled with ball bearings from Claymore mine. The entire back wall of Kaye’s office was gone. The fire suppression system
s automatically went on, and the exhaust vents immediately started sucking up the smoke and debris.
When the fire team kicked the door in, they found Kevin Anderson, his body over Kaye Wellering’s, shielding her from the blast.
Kevin looked up, saw that there was no danger, then grabbed Kaye by the throat and hauled her up against the wall. When the fire team moved towards him, Kevin’s free hand came up with a gun.
Kevin never once broke eye contact with Kaye. “What did you say Kaye?” he said calmly. “I don’t think I heard you over the massive explosion,” he roared. “Something about how no one would ever do anything to harm you, and that none of your Union members would ever do anything to harm your lily-white ass?”
Without thinking, Kevin dropped her, and put his gun away. She landed on her feet. She smoothed out her black business suit, and patted it down as though that would get all of the dust off of her. “As I said, I want to keep you around because you think outside the box. But don’t think you can get away with that in the future. I know you’re having a bad day, and—”
“Shut it, Kaye. Can you still turn this motherfucker off?”
Kaye checked her palmtop, then looked straight away, her eyes occasionally flickering about the room, checking things through implant readouts that only she could see. “He blew up everything—there were bombs on the roof, and inside Alcatraz, destroying dedicated lines for emergency transmissions for Union nanites; as well as all of the specialized broadcasting equipment for changing or refreshing nanites infecting people.”
“Which means?”
“Nanites won’t be affected, they would run on autopilot. But I can’t change the programming. I can’t stop him.”
Kevin nodded. That wasn’t hard to predict. “Reprogram Masada. Turn it off. Something.”
Kaye shook her head. “I made it nearly impossible to turn off or reprogram. Even if I could do it, I’m not sure I can do it fast enough to matter.” She paused a second, and smiled slyly. “Besides, if I do that, there’s no reason for you to stop him from killing me.”
Should have seen that coming. “Fine. Tell me everything there is to know about him. Then, maybe, I can end this.”
Chapter 33: Profile from the Edge.
Kevin paced back and forth across Gabriel’s empty waiting room, handing Major Rohaz a photograph as he moved past him.
“Emmanuel Wellering. He’s six feet tall, has red hair, green eyes. He’s actually forty years old, but he looks twenty. Extremely intelligent, and he’s been trained for the past fifteen years in the use of computers and electronic devices by the head of the Hackers Union itself. He has medical nanites in his system that are more advanced than anything you’ve ever seen before.
Rohaz nodded. “He’s related to Kaye Wellering?”
Kevin nodded himself. “Yes. We don’t have to worry about retribution. His mother isn’t too happy with him, and she’s got no problem with us killing him, cutting his head off and mounting it in front of Chinatown.”
Rohaz nodded again. He didn’t even blink in reference to Kaye being a mother. There was nothing that could surprise him when it came to these people. “When was the last time you got any sleep, Kevin?”
Kevin managed a weak smile. “I had a solid eight hours and woke twelve hours ago. I’m not sleep deprived, Major, and I’m not crazy. Yet.” He reached for another folder, pulling it out. “This has been planned on-and-off for a year or so, maybe even two. The Children told me one of their members was expelled about that time for enjoying his job a little too much, a Brother Pale Horse. Their description matched Emmanuel. After the expulsion, I figure he went looking for a different template. Somehow he found Derek. His contacts at the Union probably helped. I expect, major, though, that Kyle and I will be having a long, painful chat with him sooner or later. Where is Kyle, anyway? Did he bring Msgr. Patel?”
Rohaz drew a cigar, lighting it. “They came together and Kyle left soon afterward. He saw my band of merry men here and decided he best spend his time elsewhere. Why? Do you think he decided to start killing this evening?” He let a puff go off of the cigar. “I mean Mr. Wellering. Not Kyle.”
Anderson tossed him the folder. “Kaye gave junior a ‘spanking’ for the disrespect, Major. I didn’t ask what she meant by that, but considering whom we’re talking about, that may mean he didn’t say ‘Bless you’ fast enough after sneezing.”
He shifted his weight. “The punishment involved meant she screwed with his nanites. He’s seen to it now that she can’t do that anymore. Well, not for right now, at least. Given the way she treats people, the only real surprise is he didn’t come to this years ago.” He sighed, and then glanced at his watch. “Kaye made sure his nanites aren’t as good as hers, so he’ll still have to heal for a few more hours before he heads back on to the streets.”
The Major held up a hand. “Did you say that his nanites aren’t equal to hers? Why not?”
Kevin laughed and spread his hands theatrically. “Because it’s Kaye! The bitch is a control freak who would eat her young before she would have any competitors! She made sure not to start fully training him until he was thirty so he couldn’t be a potential threat of any kind… she did it to one of her own … God damn I hate this city...”
He sighed, dropping his arms, and his tone dropped as well. “At least in this case, the neglect is a good thing. The holes I put in him probably started knitting together immediately, but if he moves too much, like when he tries to kill someone, he’ll start bleeding again. That gives me a few hours to figure out how to stop him. Kaye’s the only one out at the moment, and he has the best chance to kill her above anyone else…”
Antonio studied him for a moment. “Have you gone to see Nevaeh? Jack is with her right now.”
Anderson shook his head violently. “I can’t. I need to think.”
“I suspect even Kaye can’t think when having a day like yours, Lieutenant.” Rohaz commented, his words clipped and pointed. “I suspect you’re not smarter than she is even when you are clear-headed. Besides, if there’s something intelligent to do, I’m sure she can come up with it. There’s no one smarter, from what I know.”
“No, it’s not that…Her imagination is limited. She’s a thinker, but doesn’t have experience. She’s creative and malicious, but the wrong kind of…”
Kevin stopped, and smiled, slowly. “There is someone smarter. Thank you Major. I need to run.”
***
San Francisco was usually not the place to go casually strolling around, which could be why Kevin Anderson was a blur running down the sidewalks. The few people who had seen him had tried to mug him, and he literally blew past them, bowling them over. By the time he had slowed down enough to come to a stop, he looked more than a little demented. A group of Forsaken who had been hanging around the Ground Zero who took one look at him and decided it might be better for the collective that they moved on elsewhere.
The Exile nodded at the giant bouncer as he blew past, and even Leo thought it would be a good idea to keep an eye on him while Kevin was in the bar.
Anderson leapt over people, chairs, tables, and also literally leapt over the bar on his way to the back. Mickie grabbed his shoulder as he passed, about to explain to him, in no uncertain or polite terms, that he had to state his business, just like everyone else.
Unfortunately, coming upon a former-SEAL when distracted and tense wasn’t a good career move. Anderson had grabbed her hand, pivoted, and had her in a hammerlock before he realized what happened.
He patted her on the head, let go, and said, “Sorry, Mickie, I’m in a rush. I need your sister to help me kill someone.”
Mickie straightened and whirled on Kevin, only to find that he had disappeared. She turned back on her customers, and noted that there were all conspicuously looking elsewhere. She glared at them and said, “Oh, shut up.”
She turned back to the door Anderson had gone through and shouted, “Mac, don’t let Lotus kill anyone unless Anderson pays us fir
st!”
Kevin rushed into the back office, more precisely, Lotus’s. The young woman leaned back and smiled, nodding at the spy.
Truth be told, he looked awful, and maybe even a little manic. His eyes were wide and brilliant with energy, even if it did look like he was spiraling out of control. She couldn’t remember seeing him as anything other than perfectly normal—at worst, he had looked tired. This was so far beyond tired, he was over the edge and falling with a handkerchief for a parachute.
“Hi,” she said.
He smiled, bowing at the hip, then straightened. “Lotus, I learned a long time ago never to ask certain questions of a woman—how old she is, how real her body parts are, and the total of her IQ. Unfortunately, in this case, I have to ask: how smart are you?”
She furrowed her brows into a cute little face. “Why?” she asked.
Kevin, eschewing the chair, moved in front of the girl, down on one knee, bringing them eye-to-eye. “Because I need to be right about you; I need you to be as smart as you are beautiful, smarter than Kaye Wellering herself.”
Lotus was possibly the most humble and modest woman in San Francisco—maybe the only person who was either anymore. She wasn’t open and honest, mainly because in order to be either, one had to talk. That was possibly the only reason why no one had noticed just how smart she was. There were times she didn’t even notice if her brother and sister were aware of it either, they seemed so wrapped up in their own problems, and snapping and snarling at one another, that she often felt that she slipped through the cracks in their perception and fell down a rabbit hole. Few had ever noticed that she was smart, since few people ever noticed her. Not one of those people had ever suspected how brilliant she was—until now, she hadn’t known that Kevin Anderson had had his own suspicions about it.
Lotus smiled shyly. This was the point where she could discover whether her own suspicions were accurate or not. She had heard about the attack on Nevaeh Kraft, and that Anderson had went directly to the Hacker’s Union station in Chinatown, and how there were explosions both there and on Alcatraz, specifically taking out their arrays for updating programming to their nanites. It wasn’t hard to conclude what the matter was about: the serial killer had resurfaced (he was the only one recently who could take on Ms. Kraft and win), he was filled with Kaye’s medical nanites (hence taking out those arrays), and he was at the very least familiar with the system (making him a hacker).