The Unknown

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The Unknown Page 31

by Brett Battles


  “I…don’t know what…you’re…talking about.”

  “Try again. If you are not truthful this time…”

  He motioned to the woman and she exited the room. She returned pushing a small cart that she wheeled to the center of the room. As she neared, Brunner saw a tray on top of the cart. And on that tray were scalpels and clamps and wrenches and metal files and an ice pick and a box cutter and more.

  Nesterov picked up a scalpel. “Now, tell me everything you know about Danara.”

  “She…she’s still in development. There’s really not that much to tell yet. I’m not even sure my idea is going to work.”

  The blade slashed out so quickly, Brunner barely saw the man’s arm move. For a beat, he thought it had just been a threatening gesture, but then Brunner’s cheek stung, and he felt a trickle of blood drip down his jaw. He slapped a hand over the wound.

  “I already know Danara’s working,” the general said. “And I know you are the one who gave it life. I want to know how you did it, how you control her, and how we get her here.”

  Brunner thought about lying again, but why? To delay might give him a sense of satisfaction, but the only thing he would really gain was more pain, and in the end he would tell Nesterov what the man wanted to know.

  Brunner would start with the first part of the general’s request, though he doubted the man would understand much. The answer to the second part would be shorter, but Nesterov wouldn’t like it so Brunner would save that for later.

  The third part sent a chill up his spine. He had no idea what these people wanted Danara to do for them, but it wouldn’t be good. Thankfully, she was secured back in Switzerland, and would not be able to be transferred anywhere without one of the keys he kept in his lab and apartment, both of which were in one of the most secure locations in all of Switzerland, if not all of Europe.

  Perhaps they would force him to build a new AI, but they would never get their hands on his firstborn.

  “The idea of how I could actually make it work came to me while I was sitting at a café in Rome,” he began.

  “They-they went to question Dr. Brunner,” Rayana said.

  “In his cell?” Grigory asked.

  They were in the waiting area outside Nesterov’s office.

  “I-I-I don’t know.” Her nervousness was to be expected, given the gun he was pointing at her.

  “You’re his assistant. You should always know where he is.”

  “I…thought I heard him say something about using one of the empty rooms. But he might have been talking about something else.”

  Given how many empty spaces there were at the base, her answer wasn’t any more helpful. But Grigory could tell it was the best he was going to get. No sense in wasting his time here anymore.

  “Thank you,” he said, and lowered his gun.

  Rayana’s shoulders slumped forward, as if she’d used almost all her strength to remain standing until then. Too bad she didn’t realize he wasn’t finished with her yet.

  Two quick steps and he was behind her, an arm around her neck.

  She struggled and tried to pull free, but she was no match for him.

  He could have stopped when she passed out, but she might recover before he reached the general. So he held on tight, until he felt the last of her life slip away, then carried her into Nesterov’s office and stuck her body underneath the desk. It would be hours before anyone found her. Possibly even days since Nesterov would not be returning.

  He considered looking for Tiana. She would know where Nesterov went, but she was likely with the old man. There was one other person who might know: the soldier guarding Brunner’s cell. Even if the sentry didn’t specifically know where the prisoner had been taken, he would know which way those who had removed him had gone.

  Grigory was halfway there when it dawned on him there was a much easier, surefire way to find out where the general was. He altered his course for the security monitoring room.

  The soldier sitting in front of the four-screen display rose to his feet and saluted when Grigory entered. The name on his uniform read ZHAPAROV.

  Grigory returned the salute. “I’m looking for General Nesterov.”

  The soldier looked confused. “He hasn’t been here, sir.”

  “I didn’t think he had been,” Grigory said gruffly, and gestured at the monitors. “Perhaps you’ve seen where he went.”

  “Oh, well…” The man sat back down. “I did see him for a moment, maybe ten minutes ago.”

  “Only for a moment?”

  “The feeds automatically cycle every ten seconds. He was on one of them, and then…” Zhaparov shrugged.

  “What feed was it?”

  “I…I don’t recall.”

  Grigory gritted his teeth. “Bring up the feed that shows the entrance to the holding cells, and go back ten minutes.”

  “I’m not sure that was it.”

  “Just do it.”

  The soldier used his keyboard control to put the requested feed on the center-left monitor. As the recording scrolled backward, Grigory could see that from the angle of the shot, the camera was maybe five meters from the door. The view took in the cell door on the opposite side and the rest of the hallway down past the next intersection.

  As they watched, the guard suddenly appeared next to the door.

  “Stop,” Grigory said. “Go forward again, one and a half speed.”

  The guard stood next to the door for several seconds, and then he was gone. He didn’t walk off. He didn’t go through the doorway. He just disappeared.

  “What the hell? How did that happen?”

  “I’m not sure,” Zhaparov said. “A glitch, I guess. It’s an old system.”

  “Go backwards again. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  The footage reversed at high speed. The guard reappeared again, and then he just stood there.

  “How far back have we gone?”

  “Another thirty minutes,” Zhaparov said.

  Thirty minutes? That didn’t make sense. According to Rayana, Brunner had been removed from his cell no more than fifteen minutes before. Had she lied to him? Was the scientist still in his cell?

  Grigory frowned. He would have believed Rayana had led him astray except for one thing.

  The glitch.

  “Is there another view?” he asked.

  “Um, should be. Let me check.” The man played with his keyboard. “Yeah. It’s on the same side as the door, though, so you won’t see much of the entrance.”

  “Show me. At the same time the guard disappeared.”

  An empty corridor. That was consistent.

  “Rewind it. Slowly.”

  The playback reversed. Twenty seconds later, the guard appeared at the far end of the corridor and walked backward to his post. That was still in line with the glitch theory.

  What happened next was not.

  From directly below where the camera was mounted, Tiana and Brunner backed into the frame, and walked in reverse all the way to the holding area. The door was opened, and she and Brunner went through it backward. The guard followed.

  “Play it,” Grigory said.

  They watched the entire scene again in forward motion.

  When everyone had exited the screen, Grigory said, “I don’t understand. Why is none of this on the other feed?”

  Zhaparov stared at the monitor. “I have no idea.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Uh…” Zhaparov checked the time log. “Eleven minutes ago.”

  “Okay. We know which way Commander Snetkov was going and what time she started. You should be able to use that to track her progress on the cameras and find out where she went, right?”

  “I guess so, yes.”

  “Then do it.”

  As the soldier began the search, he said, “I thought you were looking for General Nesterov.”

  “She’s bringing that man to him. When I know where she goes, I’ll know where the general is. Does that
meet your approval?”

  “Oh, uh, of course…I mean, I’m sorry, I wasn’t saying—”

  “Find where she went.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zhaparov worked through the footage for nearly a minute before mumbling, “There it is again.”

  “There’s what?”

  “Like before, sir. See?”

  He pressed PLAY. The hall started off empty, but then in the distance Tiana and Brunner started walking toward the camera. Before they got very far, they disappeared, just like what had happened with the guard.

  Something really strange was going on.

  “She’s got to be around there somewhere,” Grigory said. “Is there a hallway she could have turned down?”

  “No, nothing in that area.”

  “What about rooms?”

  “There are three along that section.”

  “What are they used for?”

  Zhaparov consulted a directory. “Nothing, sir. They are awaiting assignment.”

  “You mean they’re empty.”

  “Yes.”

  Grigory kept the grin off his face. This was where she must have taken Brunner. Which meant Nesterov would be there, too.

  He considered having Zhaparov check to see when the general had reached the area, but that would waste time. Plus, it might make the soldier more suspicious, forcing Grigory to kill him. Unlike Rayana and the man in the armory, Zhaparov’s absence wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.

  “Thank you,” Grigory said.

  “But we haven’t found—”

  “We’re done here.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “I’ll let General Nesterov know about your assistance.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Zhaparov said, pleased.

  Grigory left, sure that the man would not mention his visit to anyone.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jar quietly rounded the corner. About thirty meters ahead, Brunner was walking with his kidnapper.

  With Danara’s assistance, Jar had been able to stay close to them as they moved through the base. Twice, she’d had to hide to avoid being seen by other soldiers, but had always been able to catch back up.

  “They are slowing,” Danara said. “You should hide. The door to your right leads to a maintenance storage room.”

  Jar moved to the door and slipped inside.

  “The woman is opening a door,” Danara said. “According to the base plans, the room is 17-08.”

  “What’s inside?”

  “My guess would be nothing. Seventeen dash zero eight is on a list of rooms categorized as not in use.”

  “No cameras?”

  “None that are on the system.”

  Jar expected as much.

  “They’ve entered the room and closed the door,” Danara said.

  “Can I get closer?”

  “There’s another room, 17-11, two meters from 17-08. It’s on the same side of the hall you are on, and also listed as not in use.”

  “Is the corridor clear?”

  “If no one leaves 17-08, you should have more than enough time to relocate.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jar reentered the hallway and darted to the entrance for 17-11. Before opening it, she scanned the door the woman and Brunner had gone through. Like the majority of the doors she’d encountered at the base, it didn’t appear to be locked.

  She entered 17-11.

  “Okay, Danara, I think it’s time to bring my friends over.”

  “They are already on the way. ETA eight minutes.”

  In a way, covertly moving through the base was no different from the multitude of times Quinn had negotiated other dangerous areas, only instead of Orlando talking him through it while watching his progress on hacked security systems, Danara was telling him which way to go.

  They’d been making good time when she said, “Stop before the intersection.”

  Quinn pressed against the wall, a half meter shy of the new corridor. “What is it?” he whispered.

  “Five soldiers. They’ve just exited a room down the hallway to your right, and are moving away from your position.”

  “Copy.”

  Fifteen seconds later, Danara said, “You may continue. Go straight ahead for thirty-seven meters and then turn left.”

  Quinn crossed the intersection, and the others followed.

  Right before they reached the turn, Danara said, “I have an update on Dr. Brunner. He’s been taken into a room.”

  “Where’s Jar?”

  “Waiting nearby.”

  “How much farther do we have to go?”

  “Two hundred and ninety-three meters.”

  They still had a lot of ground to cover.

  “How does the way ahead look?”

  A pause. “Not as good as I would like. You’ll be passing a cafeteria. Currently, there are twenty-three soldiers inside.”

  “Is there no way to route us around it?”

  “There is, but it will add five minutes to your trip. The sooner you can get to Dr. Brunner, the better chance you will have at keeping him from getting hurt any further.”

  Maybe Danara was sentient. She clearly thought passing the dining hall was worth the risk if it helped her creator. Or was that some kind of self-preservation code Brunner had written into her program?

  Quinn grimaced. How would anyone ever really know if an AI was alive or not?

  Four minutes later, they reached the corridor that ran past the cafeteria.

  “I can’t see very far into the room,” Danara said, “but there are at least two people standing within three meters of the entryway.”

  “Is there an actual door?” Nate said.

  “No.”

  “Then anyone who happens to be looking toward the exit could see us go by.”

  “That’s correct, but that won’t be an issue.”

  “Why not?” Quinn asked.

  “Because of the distraction I’ll be creating.”

  The team exchanged looks.

  “Danara,” Orlando said, “what kind of distraction are we talking about?”

  Jar checked her watch.

  If Danara’s estimate was correct, the others would reach her in less than two minutes.

  She felt a sense of relief in the knowledge she would no longer be on her own.

  Feeling like that was a minor miracle in her life. A year ago, she would have never even considered the possibility of being part of a group. Back then, comfort came from being alone, never in the company of others. That all changed after she became involved with Quinn and Orlando’s team. Jar had come to actually like being a team member, and now looked forward to getting calls about upcoming missions.

  The others probably would have said she hadn’t changed at all, but she felt like an entirely different person.

  And she liked it.

  Footsteps in the hall. Her friends had apparently made better time than anticipated.

  She started to move away from the door to give them room to enter, but then cocked her head. Only one person was out there, not five.

  The steps stopped and she heard a door open. She was pretty sure it was the room beside hers. A few seconds later, the door shut again and the steps continued down the hall, stopping this time in front of her door.

  The room she was in was empty, so the only thing she could do as her door opened was to hide behind it.

  Jar curled her finger around the trigger of her gun as the person in the hallway stepped up to the threshold.

  A shoe scraped on the floor. Jar tensed.

  After another second, the person closed the door and walked away.

  When the steps stopped again, Jar knew the person was standing in front of 17-08.

  “Danara, something’s happening.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Grigory paused outside room 17-08.

  This had to be the room Nesterov, Tiana, and Brunner were in. All the other possibilities were empty.

  He turned his weaponized watc
h so that its face was on the underside of his wrist. All it needed now was a couple of taps and the needle would extend.

  The watch was just excess now. Nesterov had done him the favor of coming to an empty room, down one of Lonely Rock’s many little used corridors. Grigory could shoot the man and no one would hear. But Grigory had gone through the trouble of getting the watch, so if the situation was right, he might as well use it.

  And if it wasn’t…

  He pulled out his gun and reached for the door.

  “We have a problem,” Danara said.

  “What?” Jar asked.

  “He pulled out a gun.”

  The he in question was someone Danara had identified as Commander Krylov, one of Brunner’s kidnappers.

  “How long until the others get here?” Jar asked.

  “At least three minutes. By then it could be too late.” A pause. “He’s opening the door. Jar, please. Do something.”

  Jar was under no delusion that she could rush into the other room and threaten everyone into cooperating. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have options.

  She pulled out her gun.

  “Has he gone inside?”

  “Just,” Danara said.

  Jar reentered the corridor.

  Quinn heard voices coming out of the cafeteria long before he laid eyes on the doorway.

  “We’re almost there,” Quinn whispered.

  “I’m aware of that,” Danara said. “I can see you, remember?”

  “Now might be a good time for that distraction.”

  “Not quite yet.”

  Quinn frowned but kept moving, hoping this wasn’t the moment she screwed them over. His team followed.

  When they were only a few steps from the open doorway, a series of tones blared over speakers inside the cafeteria.

  Quinn glanced into the room as he crept along the wall opposite the entrance. Everyone was looking toward the other side of the room, where the cafeteria’s intercom must have been.

  When the tones stopped, they were followed by what sounded like a prerecorded male voice speaking in Russian. Quinn made it to safety before even a handful of words had been spoken. Seconds later, the others had joined him, no one inside having noticed their passing.

 

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