“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“I know it’s hard for you to believe all this, but we’re out of time now. They will not want word of this to get out. They know I have the Genesis device, and they’ll assume you know the story now.” He glanced around again. “They’ll come for me—probably you, too.”
“Oh my God. I don’t need this!” Weston leaned his head on the steering wheel and started to pound his fist on the dashboard. He sounded close to tears.
Evan gave his shoulder a gentle shake. “Come on. We’ll figure something out. But first, we’ve got to go. I need to you to drive—right now—drive out of here. Don’t stop until we’re somewhere neutral, I don’t care where. Just out of here.”
Weston raised his head, took a shaky breath, then turned the key viciously. He reached for the headlight switch.
“See if you can do it without lights.”
Weston grunted and let go of the switch. He started out slowly, until he left the rear parking area and swung around the side of the building toward the front. “It’s not police, it’s ambulance.”
“Doesn’t matter. Keep going. Hurry, we’re exposed now.”
Weston accelerated to about forty miles an hour and steered toward the main exit road. Evan held his breath. He couldn’t decide if it was worse to make a slow, less conspicuous exit and waste precious time, or to risk drawing attention with a speedy escape. He was glad to see that the sirens weren’t police. Not yet, anyway.
Weston took the last curve before the exit at speed, then suddenly stomped on the brakes. Two OneMarket Security cars blocked the way. One guard stood outside his car, flashlight in hand. He had just started to signal them to approach when Weston braked and swerved.
Evan clutched the door handle. “Do you know any other exits?”
“No! What’ll we do?”
“Head for the darker part in back for a minute.” Evan tried to think. This was all going wrong in a hurry. He should have convinced Weston to get off the property before he took the time to tell him everything. That wouldn’t have worked. Think! Think what to do now!
Weston pulled to a stop at the end of the parking lot in back, farthest away from the pole lights. “I don’t know what else to do. They’re going to find us!” He rocked in his seat in panic.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t think this through enough.” Evan smacked his own forehead, willing himself to come up with an idea before all their choices vanished. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the plastic bag containing the chip. “We cover our bases. That’s what we do.”
He carefully gripped the device, still sheathed in the plastic bag, between his thumbs and forefingers. He hesitated briefly, then decided he had no other choice. He snapped it into two pieces. He quickly pulled another small plastic bag from his pocket, put one of the halves in it, and handed it to Weston. “Take this. It’s proof of what was done to you. We need to separate. I’ll go on foot and see how far I can get—and I’ll have the other half. You should try to get yourself on that ambulance and out of here. You know enough of the story that if anything happens to me, you can tell it. Now go!”
He got out of the 4Runner, and saw Weston staring at him. “Go! Drive up there, and get out of here!” He shut the door, pocketed his half of the chip, and started off toward the darkness of the lush landscaping that surrounded the OneMarket campus.
CHAPTER 57
Tyler’s transformation stunned Jeff. Just minutes ago, he’d been lying on the floor, barely able to speak. Now he had most of his coordination back and a hard look in his eye. And judging from his side of the conversation, he’d just talked Harris into a new plan for reusing the implant that had killed Simmons.
Tyler hung up the phone and stood, a little unsteady.
“Where are you going? The ambulance’ll be here soon. You should get checked out.”
“No time. If they find that son of a bitch, I need to be ready. He can’t be given any chance to expose the program.” Tyler moved toward the door.
Jeff felt he should protest, but stopped himself. He’d cooperated too much to voice objections now. Besides, he stood to lose everything he’d worked for at OneMarket if anyone on the outside got wind of the Genesis program. There’d be scandal, investigations, even prosecutions.
A radio squawked in the aisle outside the room. Then a knock sounded on the door. “Fire Department!” The door burst open, and two firemen came in, one carrying an oxygen bottle, and one carrying a case of emergency gear. They looked from Jeff to Tyler, appearing slightly confused. The one with the oxygen bottle said, “We got a call…”
Jeff spoke up. “I called. My coworker here, uh…”
“I’m fine now. Just had a touch of dizziness.” Tyler smiled, looking suitably apologetic for the false alarm. “I didn’t eat lunch today and got a little woozy. Must have looked worse off than I was. I’m sorry.”
The firemen looked at each other. “So you’re declining treatment?” asked the one with the case.
“Yes. Really, I’m fine.”
Jeff watched the whole performance in amazement. He’d had misgivings about Tyler from the beginning, but the way he switched persona so effortlessly gave him chills. From now on, he’d deal with him as he would a cobra.
The firemen left the room, calling out to the others that the emergency was over, to go catch the elevator.
After a moment, Tyler peered around the door jamb to make sure the firemen were retreating.
“What happens now?” Given the importance to OneMarket, Jeff thought he should try to help, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to make an outright offer.
“Harris sent Security to look for Cleary and Weston. If they locate Cleary, I implant him. If he’s already off the premises, then I don’t know what happens.” Without waiting for Jeff to respond, Tyler left the room, his gait only slightly wobbly.
Overwhelmed by the implications of the situation, Jeff headed back to his own office. Maybe he’d feel more grounded there. Right now he didn’t know what was expected of him, and he wasn’t sure what he expected of himself.
Back in his office, Jeff slumped wearily in his leather chair. He glanced at the red voicemail light on his phone and groaned. He was in no mood to talk to anyone right now. It was probably Harris calling to update him on what was happening; he wouldn’t have known he’d witnessed Tyler’s call.
He picked up the phone and checked his voicemail. Shit—that woman! He slammed the phone down without checking the rest of his messages. In all the commotion with Tyler, he’d forgotten about Weston’s wife. And just what was he supposed to tell her if he did call her back? Did he dare just say that Weston was busy? And if he didn’t return her call, how many times would she try back before she decided to call the police or something?
He decided he’d better check with Harris before dealing with her. The last thing he wanted to do was screw things up worse. He dialed Harris’ cell.
“Harris here.”
“This is Reyes.”
“Did you get my message?”
“Um, no. I just got back to my office. I was with Tyler when he called you.”
“Then you know all there is to know right now. Security’s still looking for them.”
“There’s something else.”
“What else could there be?”
The hard edge in Harris’ voice made Jeff hesitate before answering. “Weston’s wife. She called earlier because she couldn’t get hold of him. She was quite worried, and made me promise to look and get back with her. That’s how I ran across Tyler.”
“And?”
“She’s already called back once. I’m not sure how to handle it. If she keeps calling and gets more worried—”
“Leave it alone for now. Screen your calls; avoid her. I have Maria in the loop on this. Let’s see if we locate them on the premises. If they’re off site, the picture changes. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeff hung up and stared morosely at the report he’d l
eft half-done when Weston’s wife called. He wondered when he’d ever be able to focus on finishing it.
Josh unlocked the cabinet where he kept Simmons’ implant. He was glad he’d taken pains to clean it carefully after he removed it. At the time, he’d mainly wanted to make sure it didn’t carry any traces of blood—just in case. But if he hadn’t cleaned it while the blood was fresh, he’d likely ruin the delicate device trying to clean it now.
He set it in the special cradle to connect it to his computer and started up his control programs. He hoped Harris had gotten to Security in time, before Cleary could get Weston off the grounds.
He’d take great pleasure in implanting that bastard. He’d been nothing but a pain in the ass since the program had begun. He should have known to cut him out from the start, even if it meant implanting every single OneMarket employee himself. All this bullshit could have been avoided.
At least he had a plan now. He assumed Cleary told Weston about the program once he removed his implant. If he could wipe Cleary’s memory, then even if Weston went public, he’d have no proof. They could even alter his medical file—and Cleary’s implant—to support a story that Weston was starting to have mental problems. Josh nodded to himself. Yes, he could make it work, as long as Security at least got hold of Cleary before it was too late.
As he prepared the device, another thought hit him. Implanting Cleary would be an even bigger boon than he’d thought. He’d have the key to Cleary’s brain. If Harris didn’t go along with restarting—and expanding—the program, he could easily bring down all of OneMarket by simply reprogramming Cleary. And he could do it all in a way that would make Harris and his cronies the fall guys, not him.
Smiling, he checked the status of the reprogramming. Complete. He was ready. Now he could only wait and hope for good news from Harris and Security.
He hated waiting for others to do their jobs.
CHAPTER 58
Evan glanced back at Weston’s 4Runner. He wanted to scream, to shout at him to speed off toward the ambulance, his best shot at escape. Weston’s hesitation taunted him to rush back and try again to convince him of the danger they were in. But there was just no time left.
He cursed himself for not acting faster, for not coming up with a better way to have avoided Tyler tonight. He should have somehow gotten Weston off the premises while Tyler was still fighting the Ketamine. Too late now to think about how he might—or might not—have been able to handle things.
Now he had to make the most of it. Evan didn’t dare waste more time. If Weston didn’t get to the authorities with his piece of the implant, he had to make damned sure that he did.
Evan fled into the deeper darkness of the trees and shrubs surrounding the OneMarket campus. He knew there were some walking paths through the area, but had never been on them. He knew next to nothing about the layout and cursed himself again for not being prepared.
He moved as quickly as he could, glancing back every so often. Soon he was far enough in for the darkness to cloak him, and he couldn’t even see where he’d separated from Weston. He wondered how aggressively the grounds would be searched. Their fast U-turn without headlights surely aroused suspicion with the guards. They must have deduced it was them. He had to assume they would keep the exits blocked and search until they found them both.
Panting and sweating, Evan knew he was out of condition for this sort of exertion. He didn’t dare shed any clothes; that would only leave a trail. He pressed on, trying to conserve his stamina in case he had to move even faster.
He paused to rest, leaning against a tree and gulping air with deep breaths. So far, he’d neither seen nor heard anyone around. He knew the crunching of the leaves underfoot was a double-edged sword; if he could hear others, they could hear him. He fingered the half of the device still in his pocket to remind himself why he’d taken this risk. He wished he knew what Weston had chosen to do.
He had to get moving again. He had no idea how long it would take to get to the edge of the property, bumbling around in the dark like this—let alone how long to find some way out. He turned and started off, smacking into a sharp, low-hanging branch. It scraped him hard next to his right eye; he crushed his cry of pain down to a grunt. He touched the spot with his hand. Blood already trickled from the wound. No time for that now—he might have been heard.
Evan stumbled and staggered along, pressing toward the periphery—he hoped. He could feel some of the warm blood trickling into his eye. It was so dark, he couldn’t even tell if it interfered with his vision. He kept his right arm raised in front of him to deflect any branches.
The darkness, the breathless fear, the pain—it all brought back nightmares he’d had as a child. He felt like he was in one of those dreams now: running from the unknown through the unknown. Darkness pulling at him, blinding him from escape. Unseen pursuers.
A brief shout escaped him as he crashed, arm first, into a brick or cinder block wall. The impact jammed his right hand and wrist painfully; the agony drove him to the ground. He gritted his teeth and rubbed at the bones and joints, praying he hadn’t broken anything. And that no one had heard him.
No time! Come on, no time! He forced himself to his feet. At least he was at the perimeter. Now how to get past the fence. He let his right arm swing at his side, trying to mentally separate it from the rest of his body, to compartmentalize the pain and leave it unexamined for now. He felt along the wall with his trembling left hand. It was higher than his head, no real nooks to use for climbing. He kept going.
He thought he heard the crunch of footsteps in the leaves. He froze like a rabbit, turning his head to pinpoint the direction. He took another step. Crunch. If he moved, and someone was there, he’d give himself away. And if he didn’t move…
Evan leaned against the wall. He wanted to hunker down to compact himself, but he feared he’d lose time trying to spring up with his tired old knees if he had to make a quick move. He breathed as shallowly as he could so he could listen most acutely.
He snapped his head in the other direction. He’d thought the crunching had come from in front of him. He must have been confused. It sounded like it was coming from the opposite direction. His pounding heart set up a thumping in his ears that distracted and annoyed him.
“Don’t move!” A shout came from his left. A strong flashlight beam struck him in the face, blinding him. He lurched forward, toward the thick vegetation, perpendicular to the beam of light.
“Got him!”
Another flashlight beam stabbed at him from just to his right. Something touched his thigh and before he could react, he collapsed to the ground. All thought was pushed aside. He was consumed, washed away in an overwhelming wave of pins and needles. He could not rise, could not speak.
Simon sat on the black leather couch in his living room. Neither the television nor the stereo was on; the room was silent but for the ominous ticking of the massive oak grandfather clock’s pendulum. He wanted no distractions to cloud his thinking. His cell phone lay on the smoked glass coffee table in front of him. He stared at it, willing it to ring. They had to find Cleary.
He’d sent Anita home for the evening straight from the restaurant; he was too angry and distracted to enjoy her tonight. Now she was pissed off, too. She’d just have to get over it. He had bigger problems to deal with. His dinner sat sour in his stomach as he considered what a leak would do to OneMarket and all he’d built.
This should not have turned into the fucking mess that it had. Why hadn’t they taken better precautions to keep Cleary under control? If this disaster could have been prevented…
His cell phone rang. He grabbed it. “It’s Victor.”
“Well?”
“We have Cleary.”
“What about Weston?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know as soon as we know anything more. What do you want us to do with Cleary?”
“Take him to the clinic. Tyler’s waiting there.”
CHAPTER 59
“Th
ey may not be here for Mark, you know,” said Molly. She and Sheila stood in the lobby near the fountain, strategizing in whispers just outside earshot of the front desk guard.
“I hope you’re right, but I have a bad feeling.” Sheila fidgeted, then said, “I can’t stand it anymore. I’m going to flat-out ask him.”
Without waiting for Molly’s response, Sheila strode up to the front desk. The skinny guard eyed her warily. “Can I help you?”
“Who’s the ambulance for?”
“Ma’am, you know I can’t tell you something like that.” He folded his thin, uniformed arms across his chest to reinforce his message.
“Look. My husband works here. I’ve been trying to get hold of him for a couple of hours—”
The elevator opened, and the firemen and paramedics came out, along with an empty gurney. While the others filed out the front entrance, muttering to each other, one of the firemen stayed behind to speak to the guard. “He looked fine when we got there. Refused treatment. Not much we could do.”
“Well, all right. Have a good evening, then.” The guard shrugged and turned to Sheila. “Ma’am, a couple of hours isn’t that long; he might have been busy. Would you like to try calling him?” He offered her the phone.
Sheila wanted to ask the idiot if he’d been listening at all. She’d called Mark already! Why would she get any different result calling him again now? She held back a nasty retort and decided to play along for the moment. Maybe he’d decide to be more helpful if she cooperated. “Sure.” She dialed Mark’s extension. As she expected, the voicemail picked up. “It’s me. Call my cell if you get this.”
She set down the phone. “See? No answer.” She searched the guard’s acne-scarred face for any sign of a desire to help. Instead, he’d assumed a look of complete neutrality. There was no sympathy, no annoyance, nothing, on his face. Might as well be an automaton. They sure trained him well. “Can you put me through to his boss, Jeff Reyes? I’ve forgotten his extension.”
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