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The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2)

Page 35

by Mikey Campling


  Hands trembling, Thomas holds the knife out, and Hank snatches it up. Without hesitation, Hank turns on Jack, the knife ready in his hand, his expression grim as death.

  But Jack stands his ground. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “Hurt me and it’ll be ten times worse for Thomas. Kill me, and he dies in the same instant.”

  “Please! Don’t try it!” Thomas cries out. “It’s true. His avatar’s joined onto mine.”

  Hank lets out a breath, flaring his nostrils. He keeps his eyes locked on Jack’s, but he lowers the knife then stows it in his belt. “I’ll take care of Scarlett for you, but then we’re done here, all right? I do this, then you let Thomas go and you get the hell out of here.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” Jack says. “I’ve no intention of hanging around for a second longer than necessary. And once you put that knife in Scarlett, you’ll have fulfilled your part of the bargain.” He steps forward, standing very close to Hank. “But you have to use that knife, and you have to leave it in her body. You can’t use another weapon, and you mustn’t take the knife back, or the deal’s off.”

  “Why?” Hank asks. “What difference does it make?”

  “It’s not just a knife, you idiot,” Jack replies. “It has a far more elegant purpose. It’s carrying a payload of code that will run through Scarlett’s interface in nanoseconds. The moment that blade goes in, I’ll have a connection to the network—I’ll be able to access everything I need. And then, my friend, I’ll be gone.”

  Hank doesn’t flinch. “All right. Fine. Three minutes is plenty, but how do I get in? I don’t see a door.”

  Jack’s eyes slide sideways to Thomas. “Tell him what to do.”

  “I’m not sure,” Thomas says. “I’ve only been in there one time, and she transferred me in. She thought I was Marcus—I took an avatar that belonged to him—and she picked me up.”

  “If you’ve been there before, you’ll have the coordinates,” Jack snaps.

  Thomas takes a breath and his lower lip trembles. “No. I told you—she’s smart. I don’t have anything.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” Jack snarls. “It’s pathetic. But it doesn’t matter.” He points at Hank. “Listen, Hank. Just walk up to the building. She’ll know you’re there, and if she doesn’t let you in, you’d better figure out what to do. Bang on the goddamned walls or something. Get her attention. She’ll bring you in soon enough. She won’t want anyone attracting attention to her den.”

  “It’s not much of a plan,” Hank says. “But I guess it might work. Just make sure you give me time to get in before you start counting down the seconds.” He takes a step back, then he gives Thomas a nod. “Don’t worry. In a few minutes, this will all be over.”

  He casts a glance at Jack, then he turns and heads toward the white building. There’s no telling which way this is going to go, he thinks. But whatever happens, I can’t trust Jack—not one inch. Sure, he can take on this Scarlett character, but can he really kill her? Can he take the risk that she’ll be harmed in real life? And even if he does what Jack wants, there’s no way the old man will make good on his promise.

  But if I fail, Thomas will pay for it, he tells himself. And that poor guy can’t look after himself—he needs me to stand up for him.

  Hank tightens his fingers into fists. The only way forward is to play this situation out and look for a chance to turn it around. If he can get an edge on Jack, or find a way to neutralize him without hurting Thomas, then he’ll take it. Maybe he can make a bargain with Scarlett, or maybe he can persuade her to help. Because otherwise, his choices are pretty bleak. “How the hell did I get into this?” he murmurs. “And how the hell am I going to get out?” But as the white walls loom ever closer, he doesn’t have an answer. Not a single one.

  ***

  Thomas blinks rapidly. There’s a sound in his earpiece: someone whispering. He looks at Jack, but the man hasn’t reacted. Jack is standing perfectly still, intent on watching Hank’s every step, so he clearly hasn’t heard anything unexpected. But there it is again. The words are muddled and indistinct, but the voice is definitely there, murmuring in his earpiece. And then Thomas remembers. He’s still using AGILE. He’s picking up another person, hearing their thoughts. And somehow the mod must be personal to him and not shared with Jack because the guy hasn’t moved a muscle. Yes, that makes sense. When they arrived at the building, Jack asked him to use AGILE and scan ahead; he wouldn’t have done that if he could use the mod himself.

  Thomas concentrates, tuning into the voice.

  “Easy does it, Grimwood,” the voice whispers. “I’ve got a good clear shot.”

  Oh no! There must be a sniper nearby. Thomas’s whole body goes tight: his muscles solidifying into an immovable mass while his mind goes into overdrive. Who the hell is Grimwood? They can’t mean Jack can they? Wait. What if Jack’s real name was Jacob? Jacob Grimwood? That’s impossible! But the chill fingers of an ice-cold certainty claw at Thomas’s stomach: Jacob Grimwood, the most notorious cybercriminal in history, is here, standing in front of him. And I let him in, Thomas thinks, and he closes his eyes. What have I done?

  A swell of sickening guilt rises like bile in his throat, and Thomas lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. This just isn’t fair, he thinks. None of this is my fault—how could it be? He never knew who he was dealing with. If he’d realized his online friend Samantha wasn’t real, he would never have got involved with any of this. But she was so nice, and she encouraged him. She told him he could do great things, convinced him that if he just… He shakes his head. Stop it, you idiot! Face up to goddamned reality. Face up to what you’ve done.

  Thomas takes a shaky breath. He’s trapped, with no way out. Hank will try, but he’ll never beat Scarlett, and even if he does, Grimwood will never let them go. Grimwood is a sociopath, a monster. And someone has the bastard in his sights. Of course they’ll take the shot. They’ll have to.

  Thomas shivers, hugs himself. His avatar is inextricably linked to Grimwood’s; if the man is shot, they’ll both suffer, every split-second of agony shared between them. But maybe that’s just the way it has to be. Maybe that’s the price he has to pay. I deserve it, he thinks. After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to live. I just hope they make it quick. And when he squeezes his eyes even tighter shut, a single tear wets his cheek.

  ***

  Hank walks around the building as quickly as he can. There are no doors or windows, no discernible features at all, but once he gets out of sight of Jack, he lets out a loud breath and looks up into the sky. Think, he tells himself. Think of some way to turn this around! And in that moment, his earpiece crackles into life: “You must be Hank. What the hell are you doing here? You need to get as far away as you can.”

  It’s a woman’s voice, though not one he recognizes. He hesitates, then he activates his voice channel. “I guess you’re Scarlett. I need to talk.”

  “Yes, you can call me Scarlett,” the voice says. “What do you need to say? You’d better make it quick—I can’t keep this channel secure for long.”

  “That’s no good. I need to see you in person, Scarlett. I’ve got something I need to give you.”

  There’s a hiss on the line as if Scarlett just breathed on the microphone. “I’ll bring you inside, Hank. You’ll be safer in here anyway.” There’s a pause. “You’ll see a warning about a weapons lock, but don’t worry. Just ignore it. I’m bringing you in.”

  Before Hank can reply, the walls shimmer in front of his eyes. A warning flashes up on his UI, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. The familiar dizziness of a neural sync washes through him, and he braces himself, letting it happen. Within seconds, it’s over. And it’s obvious where he is; the room is oppressively bright, and the walls are pure white. I’m in.

  The dizziness fades quickly, and Hank turns around. There’s only one other person in the room, and Hank gives her an appraising look. I guess she must be Scarlett, he thinks
. I’m not sure what I expected, but she isn’t it. They lock eyes for a moment. She’s watching him like a hawk, but there’s no malice in her eyes, and no aggression in her body language.

  “Are you all right, Hank?” She asks, and when she smiles, there’s genuine warmth and compassion.

  And there’s no way Hank can attack her. He can’t side with Jack against this woman. He must’ve been mad to even consider it, but his back was against the wall at the time, and he was desperate. There’s got to be another way, he tells himself. But he has to think fast. Time is already running out. It’s time to lay my cards on the table, he thinks. I’ve just got to hope she understands.

  He looks her in the eye as best he can. “Scarlett, there’s someone outside. He calls himself Jack. I don’t know if that’s his real name. And he’s got a hostage—a guy called Thomas. I’m supposed to…I’m supposed to kill you. If I do that, Jack swore he’d let Thomas go.”

  The woman nods. “OK, Hank. First, call me Eileen. Scarlett is just a game tag—it’s an avatar I used in the past. Second, don’t worry. You did the right thing in coming here.”

  Hank holds out his hands. “But what are we going to do? He gave me three minutes. If I’m not out soon, he’ll hurt Thomas. And he can do it. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

  “It’s OK, we’ve got him covered.”

  “Really? I mean, I’m glad to hear it, but what are you going to do?”

  Eileen nods toward the far wall. “I have a friend outside, and right about now he should have the son of a bitch in his sights.”

  “No!” Hank blurts out. “You can’t shoot Jack. It’ll kill Thomas.”

  “It’s all right, Hank. My friend won’t miss. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Hank shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s not what I meant. This guy somehow latched onto Thomas’s avatar. If you kill him, Thomas could die.”

  Eileen hesitates. “He told you this himself?”

  “Yes. But Thomas says it’s true. And he’s scared—real scared.”

  “I understand, but it could be a bluff. It’s not easy to split an avatar into two like that.”

  “Not easy? Jesus Christ! Not easy? That means it’s possible, right? So Jack could be telling the truth.”

  Eileen doesn’t reply. She keeps eye contact with Hank, but he can see the muscles tense in her cheek.

  Hank raises his voice. “Is it possible, Eileen? Yes or no?”

  “Yes, it’s technically possible. But it needs a lot of computing power, and it takes time. I don’t know…” Eileen lets her voice trail away.

  “Listen, I’ve had some bad times in VR. I’ve seen some things, hell, I’ve done some things are not supposed to be possible. I’ve walked through places that aren’t supposed to exist. I’ve broken just about every rule in the book. And let me tell you something, Eileen—the rules of what’s allowed don’t mean a goddamned thing when someone’s got a gun to your head. And this guy Jack is for real. If he says his avatar is linked with Thomas’s, then I believe him. And you need to take it seriously, Eileen. You need to understand what I’m saying.”

  “Don’t raise your voice to me,” Eileen snaps. “I don’t like this situation any more than you do. Of course, I’ll try and protect Thomas, but my priority has to be Grimwood.”

  Hank feels the blood drain from his face. “Grimwood? Jacob Grimwood?” He looks away from Eileen and tries to hide the fear in his eyes. But when he looks back at her and opens his mouth to speak, the words won’t come.

  Eileen watches him, her brow furrowed. “I guess you deserve the truth, Hank. The man out there is Jacob Grimwood, and for some time now I’ve been working to catch him.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Hank hisses. “I’ve come up against that bastard before. We’re screwed.”

  “That really isn’t possible,” Eileen says. “You couldn’t have met him. You probably just heard about—”

  “Goddammit, will you listen to me?” Hank interrupts. “I didn’t say I met him. I came up against one of his guys—a man who called himself Will. But I got caught up in his twisted goddamned plan, and Grimwood was the one behind it. So I know what I’m talking about, and I’m telling you—Jacob Grimwood is a goddamned maniac. And if you don’t believe me, just ask Stewart. He’ll back me up.”

  Eileen puts a hand on her chest. “That was you? You helped Stewart to get out of that game?”

  “Believe it,” Hank says. “It was Stewart who told me I should join the Trust.”

  Eileen takes a breath and releases it slowly. “I didn’t know. I saw the report, but the name was redacted. And now, here you are, and Stewart is outside. He’s the one waiting to take a shot at Grimwood.”

  “Oh my God,” Hank moans. “What the hell are we going to do?”

  “There’s only one thing we can do,” Eileen says. “You need to go back out there and persuade Grimwood to come inside. I’ll make a doorway for him, and you tell Grimwood whatever you want. Say anything you like—whatever it takes to get him to step through that door. That’s all you have to do.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, her voice is cold. “Otherwise, I’ll tell Stewart to take him out. I’ll have no choice.”

  “That’s no good. Grimwood won’t listen to me. I’m supposed to kill you first, and he won’t accept anything less, can’t you understand that?” Hank scrapes his hand down his face. “There’s no way he’ll walk in here—no way at all. He’s not making empty threats, Eileen, and he’s not taking any prisoners. If I’m not back out there in a few seconds, and if you’re still alive, he’ll kill us all or die in the attempt. I’m sure of it.”

  Eileen lowers her voice. “How were you supposed to kill me, Hank? What did he tell you to do?”

  Reluctantly, Hank pulls the knife from his belt and shows Eileen the blade. “I’m supposed to stab you with this. And it’s not just a knife. He says it’ll give him a connection. And he’ll know when it’s done.”

  Eileen holds out her hand. “Give it to me.”

  Hank starts to hold the knife out, but when he sees the look in Eileen’s eyes, he snatches it away and keeps it close to his body. “No. You can’t just…you can’t do that.”

  “What I do is my business, Hank. Now hand over that knife, or I’ll take it from you.”

  “No. You can’t just give Grimwood what he wants. He’ll kill us anyway.”

  Eileen takes a couple of steps toward Hank. “No, he won’t. As soon as he steps inside this building, he’ll be trapped. He won’t be able to hurt you, or Thomas, or anyone else. But we have to get him inside first.”

  Hank steps back from her. He looks left and right. “Let me out of here. Where’s the goddamned door? Let me get outside and talk to him. I’ll stall him. You come up with something. Anything. Just think of something, all right?”

  Eileen glares at Hank for a moment, her eyes filled with cold determination, but then her shoulders slump, and she nods slowly. “All right, Hank. We don’t have too many options right now. If you think you can stall him, give it a shot. But patch me into your voice channel. I want to hear everything you say. If you can get any information out of him, anything at all, it might be enough to give us an edge.”

  “I’ll try. But I want you to get hold of Stewart. Tell him not to take a shot at Grimwood. Not unless we can get Thomas safe.”

  “Oh my God!” Eileen murmurs. “That might work.” She walks slowly up to Hank and lays her hand on his arm. “All we have to do is get Thomas inside this room. It’s shielded, so it should keep him out of harm’s way, and that will leave Stewart free to disable Grimwood. And maybe, if Thomas’s avatar really is joined to Grimwood’s, we’ll be able to run our trace through Thomas and find out where Grimwood is logged in.”

  Hank hesitates. “Thomas will be protected? Are you sure about that?”

  “As sure as I can be. And right now, that’s the best we can hope for.” She lets go of Hank’s arm. “Go out there and try it, Hank. Tell them you can’t do it on your own. Tell
them you need help. If Grimwood comes in, we’ll have won. But if he sends Thomas, we’ll know what to do.”

  Hank looks away from Eileen. Can he trust this woman? She could be playing him all the way, but what can he do about it? He’s got to move the situation forward fast, and he’s got to get it right. Because one thing’s for certain, whatever he does in the next few minutes, there’s one hell of a lot riding on it. He chews at the inside of his cheek and thinks, What would Dad tell me to do? And the answer comes to him immediately. He’d tell me to make a move. He’d tell me to give it my best shot.

  Hank squares his shoulders and gives Eileen a curt nod. “OK. Let’s do it. I’m ready.”

  “Good.” Eileen steps back and focuses on her UI. “I’m opening a door for you. We made it for Grimwood, but it should be fine for you and Thomas to use.”

  On the nearest wall, a long, thin crack appears, then a rectangular panel pops out of position with a metallic click. There’s a faint hum as the panel slides to one side, revealing a tall doorway, wide enough for two people to walk through side by side.

  “Go ahead,” Eileen says. “It’s perfectly safe. I’ll shut it again as soon as you and Thomas are safe inside.”

  “So long as Thomas is inside, you can close it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

  “Take care, Hank. Remember to patch me in. If you need help, I’ll be there in a second.” She takes a breath. “Good luck.”

  “Sure,” Hank says, then he heads for the door. Whichever way this thing goes, he’s going to need every ounce of good luck he can get.

  ***

  Stewart settles into position, standing next to a broad tree and bracing himself against the trunk. He’s not familiar with the only rifle Eileen could provide, and while he’s busy adjusting the scope, a new red marker in UI’s his target indicator catches his eye. It looks as though someone just appeared beside Eileen’s building. “Hello,” he whispers. “What are you playing at, Eileen?” He shoulders his rifle and puts his eye to the scope, then he moves his weapon slowly sideways until the view in his scope aligns with the target marker. Hank! What the hell is he doing here? Stewart fine-tunes the focus in his scope, but there’s no mistake. Hank is definitely down there, and he’s walking away from the building, toward Grimwood and his hostage. Stewart opens his voice channel. “Eileen, what’s going on? Where did Hank spring from?”

 

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