by Ron McGee
“We have to do something.” Danny turned to Ryan, but he was still focused on the screen.
“Look,” Ryan said, pointing. “It’s Madame Buku.”
Looking regal in her designer glasses and colorful headwear, Madame Buku addressed the reporters. “I’m just pleased that Sekhmet Technologies was able to help gather the data that brought these conspirators to justice. When we learned that Anbo and Delilah had returned to Lovanda with the intent of launching terrorist attacks, we knew it was our duty to stop them.”
“She’s such a liar!” Danny was beside himself.
Madame Buku looked right at the camera now. “Of course, if Anbo and Delilah were as righteous as they claim to be, they would step forward and take the blame themselves. Instead, they allow their colleagues to go to the gallows in their place. Like all traitors, they are cowards.”
“She’s trying to bait you,” Ryan said. “To draw you out.”
“Well, it worked. We won’t let our friends die in our place.” Lawrence looked at Nadia, who wore a fierce expression.
“It’s time to stop running,” she said.
Danny turned the TV off. “No way. You can’t just turn yourselves in. That’s exactly what she wants.”
“She’s left us no other option,” Lawrence said.
“Maybe she has.” Ryan turned to face them, an idea forming. “This Liberty Plaza where the executions are supposed to happen—is it a big public place?”
Nadia nodded. “The largest in Houdali.”
“And there’ll be a crowd there?”
“Of course.”
Ryan looked at Lawrence and Nadia. “You told me the music you two made was your way to fight back. So let’s fight.”
Danny smiled. “You have that I’ve-got-a-plan look.”
Before Ryan could respond, his father walked back into the room, hanging up from a call. “Okay, I think I have us a way out of here, but we need to move quickly.”
They all shared a glance before Ryan said, “We can’t leave yet.”
“Yeah, we can. And we are. Let’s go.”
Lawrence shook his head. “We have to help our friends. We won’t just abandon them.”
“Dad, they’re gonna execute five innocent people if we don’t do something.”
“And what exactly do you think we can do?”
“Rescue them.”
“Come on, Ryan. How are we supposed to do that?”
“By working together. Isn’t that what the ERC does?”
“ERC missions take time and planning and resources. What makes you think we can pull something like that off in a few hours?”
“Because we’re Quinns. That’s what we do.”
His father was about to argue, but stopped, recognizing the determination in his son’s eyes. He looked around at the others. They were equally resolute. Finally, he shook his head in resignation.
“Mom’s gonna kill me.”
That was all the permission Ryan needed. It was time to get to work.
CHAPTER
43
HOUDALI,
LOVANDA, AFRICA
Less than two hours to sundown, and there was still a lot to do.
The apartment had been turned into a command center. With everyone’s help, Ryan’s spark of an idea was transforming into an actual plan.
Lawrence and Nadia tapped back into the network of contacts that helped them stage their pop-up concerts five years ago. The response was immediate and enthusiastic. Their friends would do anything necessary to help stop the executions. Two women had arrived with outfits and makeup for Nadia. Several guys provided portable sound equipment and speakers. The teenage sister of one of them had rounded up two higher-quality laptops for Danny to use.
In the back bedroom, Ryan checked on Nadia and Lawrence. The two women were busy braiding Nadia’s hair, weaving in strips of colorful cloth that matched the vibrant aqua-and-gold African gown they’d brought. As they worked, the rapper and hip-hop singer practiced lyrics to songs they hadn’t performed in years.
“We have to go soon,” Ryan said. “You guys need anything?”
Lawrence paced restlessly, unable to hide his anxiety. “How about another two weeks to rehearse?”
“You’ve got an hour.” Ryan offered a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna be great.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.” Nadia took Lawrence’s hand and squeezed.
Ryan headed back down the hallway. Framed photos lined the wall. Most of them were of Jaz surrounded by friends and family. Her bright smile lit up every picture. The thought of this warm, vibrant woman being used by Madame Buku to get to Lawrence and Nadia made Ryan livid. He continued into the living area, more determined than ever to free Jaz and the others.
At the breakfast table, Danny pivoted between Jaz’s old computer and the two newer laptops. They were all running different programs, complicated coding that Ryan couldn’t understand at all.
“You get into the systems okay?”
“Dude, we’re in everywhere.” Danny’s eyes had a feverish glaze, darting from one screen to the next. His fingers clicked over the keyboards like he was playing a concerto. “This is gonna be epic.”
“Ryan!”
Ryan glanced at one of the laptops, surprised to see Kasey in a videochat window. “Hey! What’re you doing?”
“Danny’s helping us stop the leak in the ERC.”
“Us?”
“Your mom and me.”
Ryan couldn’t believe it. “Mom’s actually letting you help?”
“Yeah.” Kasey glanced away, then back, lowering her voice. “At least, I hope so. Technically, we’re still negotiating.”
Ryan wasn’t at all sure Kasey would win that battle. “So who was the leak?”
Kasey hesitated. “Um, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you get home. Your mom’s here. You want to talk to her?”
Ryan was about to say yes, but he glanced across the room at his father. Surrounded by photos and maps, Dad was fine-tuning the plan and making arrangements. Ryan didn’t know if he’d told Mom about the rescue. And he really didn’t want to have to lie to her.
“Better not,” he told Kasey. “We’re pretty busy.”
“We’ve got work to do, people,” Danny said. “Just blow each other a kiss and say good-bye.”
Ryan glared at Danny, but he didn’t even notice, his gaze glued to a screen.
“See you soon,” Kasey said. “Be careful, okay?”
“You, too.”
Ryan crossed to his father, who was just hanging up from a call. “Everyone’s almost ready.”
“Good.” Dad set the phone down. “That was Candace. She was detained by the police overnight, but they let her go.”
“Was she hurt?”
“She’s fine. I told her to get out of Lovanda, but she wants to help.” Dad pointed to a circle on the city map. “This is Liberty Plaza. The concert will be over here at the park. A couple of miles away.”
“Will Nadia and Lawrence be safe?”
“For as long as it takes the police to figure out where they are and to get there.” Dad looked up at him, serious. “Our success depends on whether the police respond the way we hope they will. If they don’t, we have to terminate the rescue immediately.”
That would mean leaving those people behind. Ryan couldn’t imagine doing all this and not being able to save them.
Dad stood. “Listen, what’s happening here—these people working together, trying to help—this is what the ERC is all about. We don’t always succeed, though. And I won’t lie, it hurts every time we fail. I remember the failures more than all the successes put together. But you have to be willing to walk away when necessary. Can you do that?”
“I guess.”
“Not good enough. I have to know I can count on you to do what I say. You need to trust me.”
“I do.” Ryan didn’t like it, but he knew Dad was probably right. “Whatever you say goes.”
&nb
sp; “Then sit down and listen up. We’ll only get one chance to do this right.”
CHAPTER
44
HOUDALI,
LOVANDA, AFRICA
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, everyone was in position. They each had a vital role to play. As Ryan scanned the crowd at Liberty Plaza, he was filled with sudden misgivings. There were hundreds of people here. Police were visible everywhere. It was impossible to predict what might really happen once they set the plan in motion.
Forcing himself to set his fears aside, Ryan worked his way closer to the far end of the square. A platform had been constructed, high enough for everyone to see the gallows where the executions would take place. From a sturdy wood beam, five nooses dangled ominously, waiting for the prisoners. Officers with machine guns stood guard.
Ryan guessed there were several hundred people jammed into the plaza. They weren’t excited or bloodthirsty, though. Instead, there was a subdued quality of nervous anticipation. Many appeared reluctant to be here, which didn’t surprise Ryan. On the streets, police were rounding up citizens and forcing them to attend. Madame Buku was determined to create a spectacle.
Ryan spotted her on the balcony of a building that looked down on Liberty Plaza. Madame Buku had a view of everything from up there. Even from this distance, it was easy to see she was enjoying herself. She talked with Laughlin, who stood at her side. The British mercenary smiled at something she said, then glanced into the crowd. It felt like he was looking right at Ryan. Lowering his head, Ryan continued toward the gallows.
As the sun finally set, bright lights illuminated the square. Giant television monitors had been erected all around Liberty Plaza. Sekhmet Technologies would broadcast the executions throughout the entire country for everyone to witness. Of course, if everything went according to plan, they’d be getting a very different show from the one they expected.
“Police bus is pulling up now,” a man’s voice said through Ryan’s radio transmitter. “North side, behind the stage.”
Ryan veered that direction as his dad responded. “Copy. En route.”
Ryan tapped his earpiece. “Almost there.”
Two of Lawrence’s friends, Caden and Lacey, were helping Ryan and his father. Caden’s wife and Lacey’s brother were both among the five prisoners, and they insisted on taking part. Dad had been hesitant about exposing them to danger. But the truth was, this rescue attempt wouldn’t be possible without them.
“Good citizens of Lovanda,” a voice bellowed. The same self-important man in the gray suit from the TV news report was now addressing the crowd. His pinched features appeared huge on the monitors all around the square. “As Minister of Justice, it is my responsibility to carry out the sentences decreed by the court.”
As the man droned on, Ryan hurried to get into position. The success of the rescue would depend on timing. Right now, everyone’s attention was on either the platform or one of the massive screens, which made slipping through the crowd easier. Ryan passed the gallows and made his way to the unlit darkness behind the platform.
The street back here had been closed. Only official vehicles were allowed through the blockade. Hiding behind a large planter, Ryan spotted the beat-up prison bus. It had to be at least forty or fifty years old, a metal rust bucket with bars across the windows.
A line of officers made sure no one got close as the prisoners emerged. All five looked haggard, their hands cuffed and ankles shackled as they shuffled along. Ryan recognized Jaz from the pictures in her apartment. But the warm smile he’d admired in the photos was gone. Like the others, she seemed dazed and terrified.
Ryan keyed his radio. “Prisoners are off the bus.”
As the prisoners were led toward the gallows, the line of police officers dispersed. Dad had expected the bus to be all but forgotten once the prisoners were removed. He was right. Within a couple of minutes, the only person left was the driver. He sauntered around to the front, casually lighting a cigarette and leaning against the hood.
Keeping to the shadows, Ryan slipped behind the bus. The Minister of Justice was now reading the prisoners’ names and death sentences. They were running out of time.
Dad’s voice crackled in his ear. “Everybody ready?”
“Ready,” Ryan said.
Caden and Lacey both checked in: All set.
And then Danny’s voice came through. “So ready!”
“All right then,” Dad said. “Go.”
In midsentence, the Minister of Justice was cut off, replaced by Lawrence’s booming voice echoing through the plaza.
“Brothers and sisters, this is not justice!” A murmur of shock and excitement swept through the crowd as the video image of Anbo and Delilah filled every screen around the square. “We won’t stand quietly in the dark any longer—we must be heard! No one dies today!”
As recognition dawned, a roar erupted from the crowd. Music exploded from the speakers, and the cheers became deafening. The concert had begun.
Time to move.
Ryan raced along the side of the bus. As he made it to the hood, he saw his father emerge from his hiding spot just beyond the bus driver. Dad crept up behind the oblivious man, who never saw him coming. He wrapped a forearm around his neck and held him tight.
The driver struggled silently for a few seconds as Dad pulled him out of sight behind the hood. It was a perfectly executed Rear Naked Choke. Within moments, the driver passed out, unconscious.
“Awesome,” Ryan said, impressed.
“Don’t even think about trying that, got it?” Dad dropped the man to the ground. He motioned across the way, and Caden appeared from the shadows, running to join them. “Now get to work.”
His father stepped back around the hood to keep watch as Ryan quickly undressed the bus driver, giving the man’s uniform to Caden. The driver was heavier than Caden, but they looked similar otherwise. With the lights out in the bus, the difference would be hard to notice.
Across Liberty Plaza, the music and cheering were creating disorder and confusion, just as they’d planned.
So far, so good.
The next few minutes would determine whether the prisoners lived or died.
CHAPTER
45
HOUDALI,
LOVANDA, AFRICA
Danny had been calling in favors all day. He hadn’t realized how many friends he’d made in the hacker community over the past few years. Since it was mostly anonymous, he didn’t really keep track of everyone he helped out or offered advice. But today, Danny was the one who needed assistance, and he couldn’t believe the response he was getting.
Danny had used his backdoor into Madame Buku’s network to gain access to Sekhmet Technologies. A brilliant hacker known only as P8riot showed him how to hijack the live feeds being broadcast from Liberty Plaza. Instead of airing the execution, Madame Buku’s own company was now streaming Anbo and Delilah’s surprise performance to the whole country. Sekhmet’s security team was already working to block the hackers’ access and regain control.
Danny had lots of chat windows open, allowing him to communicate with hackers around the world who were helping him keep the security team at bay. The concert feed needed to stay live long enough for Ryan and his dad to free the prisoners.
As Danny typed, he rocked out to Anbo and Delilah. The concert played through an open window, and it was hard to keep his eyes off the screen. They were singing in a park in front of a bronze statue of an African warrior holding a baby in his arms. They had managed to gather a guerrilla music crew, complete with portable sound system and colored lights. It looked very cool.
Using message apps and social media, Danny had spread word of the pop-up concert. There were over two hundred people there, with more arriving every minute. Fans held their cell phones high, recording and live streaming the performance.
Nadia looked fantastic in her Delilah persona. Her long braids whipped back and forth as she strutted in front of the statue. The colorful, tra
ditional gown she wore made her look like she could be the bronze African warrior’s wife. And her voice was beautiful—piercing and ethereal, like she was some kind of avenging angel.
Lawrence was just as intense. Dressed in ripped jeans and a T-shirt that read “Live Free or Die Tryin’,” he seemed like a totally different person. He growled his raps, swaggering with pride and strength. The crowd went crazy for him.
Anbo and Delilah were back where they belonged.
Several of their friends were recording the concert, and Danny switched between the various cell phone feeds. He had to make sure the statue of the African warrior was clearly visible. That was the landmark that would let the police know where they were performing. If the cops didn’t come for Anbo and Delilah, then the rest of the plan wouldn’t work.
“Danny, we have to be out the door in ten minutes.”
Candace had come up behind Danny without him even noticing. He had been happy to see that she was all right. Once again, she was in charge of getting him out of Houdali. Hopefully, this time it would go a little smoother.
“I need as long as possible. If I leave, the feed’s gonna crash.”
“Ten minutes,” she said. “We’re cutting it too close as it is.”
Danny was about to argue for more time, but a video chat request chimed in. He accepted, and Kasey appeared in the window.
“We’re all set to go,” she said.
“Now?” Danny was already popping between so many screens he couldn’t keep count.
“As soon as Jacqueline gives the okay.” Kasey’s brow creased. “You’re ready, right? Our whole plan depends on you.”
“Sure,” Danny said. “Ready when you are.”
He slid his chair to the second laptop and opened the program he’d use to take down Braxton Crisp. He didn’t even have time to wipe the sweat that was dripping down his forehead.
Going back to being just a sidekick was starting to look pretty good.
CHAPTER
46