“It’s OK, Stewart,” Eileen replies. “I’ll explain. But for now, do not engage with the target. Repeat. Do not engage the target.”
“Copy that. But tell me why I should wait. I can get a clear shot from my position, and I’m ready to take it.”
“Stewart, we believe that the person with Grimwood is a Northridge student called Thomas. It seems that Grimwood has piggybacked onto Thomas’s avatar, and harming Grimwood could be devastating to Thomas.”
“Goddammit!” Stewart mutters. “So what’s the plan?”
“Hank will try and persuade Grimwood to let Thomas come into my safe room. As soon as Thomas is safely inside, I’ll seal the door. At that point, we might be able to run our trace through Thomas and find Grimwood, but the odds are slim. Either way, you’ll be weapons free.”
“Got it,” Stewart says. He licks his dry lips. “Eileen, I don’t have to kill Grimwood. I can easily disable him—I’d like to ask him some questions before the authorities get their hands on him. He can tell us so much.”
“Negative, Stewart. My instructions are very clear on this. If we can’t get him into this building, he’s to be terminated. With any luck, he’ll be stunned in real life, and that will give us some time. It isn’t ideal, but we’ve prepared for this eventuality and there are still some diagnostics we can run to try and find him. But if he’s just wounded, he could log off and slip away.”
“But the lockdown should hold him. Surely, if we—”
“No, Stewart,” Eileen interrupts. “He might have an escape route, and we can’t take that risk.”
“Copy that,” Stewart says. “Standing by.” And he swings his rifle smoothly back toward Grimwood, only stopping when the man’s grizzled head is firmly in the center of his scope.
***
Hank walks steadily back toward the spot where Thomas and Grimwood are hiding in the shadows. “I hope you can hear me, Eileen,” he says under his breath. “You need to be ready.” And he pictures Stewart adjusting his aim. He can almost feel the cross-hairs centering on his head, following him every step of the way. You’d better not start shooting, Stewart, he thinks. Or all bets are off.
When Hank gets close, Grimwood steps out from behind a tree. He’s still holding his rifle, but he keeps it low, holding it in one hand. “What’s the hell’s the matter with you? Get back in there. It isn’t done.”
Hank shakes his head. “I need help. I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“What are you talking about?” Grimwood snarls. “All you had to do was stab the woman.”
“She’s too strong,” Hank says. “I tried, but I only wounded her. She’s holed up in there now, but I found a way in.” He looks Grimwood in the eye. “If you come with me, we can beat her between the two of us.”
Grimwood moves closer to Hank. “Make your mind up,” he says, and his voice is a cold threat. “Which is it, Hank? Is she hurt or is she too strong?” He grabs hold of Hank with one hand, sinking his fingers into Hank’s upper arm, squeezing tight. “You’re lying to me, you little bastard. Tell me the truth. What have you done?”
Hank squirms but Grimwood’s grip is too tight. “I’m not lying. She fought me off, all right? She beat me and I don’t like to admit it. But at least I had the guts to go in there while you were hiding out here. So get your damned hand off me, you asshole.”
Grimwood’s eyes bore into Hank’s. “How could you fail? Do you want me to hurt Thomas? Do you want to see him suffer?”
Hank draws a steadying breath. Take it easy, Hank, he tells himself. But it’s too late for that. A flash of pent up fury blazes through his mind, and he bares his teeth in a snarl. Without thinking, he wrenches his right arm free from Grimwood’s grip and drives the heel of his hand into the man’s chest, throwing all his strength into the blow.
Grimwood gasps and staggers back, but he stays on his feet. He glares at Hank, his eyes alive with animosity and spite, and he raises his rifle, pointing it at Hank’s chest. “You’ll pay for that,” he barks, flecks of spittle flying from his lips. “You’ll both pay.”
Hank lets out a snort. “Stop being so goddamned dramatic. I told you what happened and I made you a perfectly good offer. I’ll go in with you and we’ll get her. What’s wrong with that? Are you too chicken? Is that it?”
“You must think I’m an idiot,” Grimwood sneers. “There could be anything or anyone in there. I’m not just going to walk in.”
“Fine, I’ll take Thomas with me. He’s more use than you anyway.”
Grimwood’s eyes dart from Hank to Thomas and back again, but Hank makes his face a mask; if he lets any sign of his intention show, Grimwood will see it immediately.
“You say you found a way in,” Grimwood says. “Show me.”
Hank shrugs. “You can’t see it from here. It’s around the far side. But there’s an open doorway. We can walk right in.”
“We’ll all go,” Grimwood says. “We’ll walk up there and take a look. And if you’ve lied to me—”
“Yeah, I know,” Hank interrupts. “But I didn’t lie, so you can keep your threats to yourself. Let’s just get this over with, OK?”
Grimwood pulls himself up to his full height and gestures with his rifle. “Move! Hank first. Thomas, you follow. And if either of you tries to get away, you’ll both regret it.”
Without a word, Thomas moves to Hank’s side. He gives Hank a look as if he wants to say something.
“Are you all right?” Hank asks.
“Yeah,” Thomas says. “We’d better walk. We’d better do as he says.”
There’s an unsettling edge in Thomas’s tone, and Hank frowns. Something’s changed, but what? Did Thomas somehow figure out what’s going on? He glances at Thomas, and he pushes the thought away; there’s no way Thomas could possibly guess the truth.
“All right,” Hank says. “Stay close.” He turns back toward the white building and starts walking, with Thomas keeping pace at his side.
“Is Stewart really here?” Thomas whispers. “From Northridge?”
Hank misses his step, but he recovers quickly, repressing the urge to stare at Thomas. Instead, he keeps moving, and he keeps his voice low. “How did you know about that?”
“I picked up his thoughts. And yours too.” He hesitates. “What did you mean, all bets are off?”
Hank’s mind whirls. This is beyond impossible, it’s insane. How could Thomas possibly know about Stewart? And how could he repeat Hank’s thoughts, word for word? He keeps his eyes on the white building and remembers his angry words to Eileen: I’ve done some things are not supposed to be possible. I’ve walked through places that aren’t supposed to exist. Sometimes, the rules of the real world applied in VR, and sometimes they didn’t. Could Thomas have found a way to read minds inside a scenario? Could he have found a way to hack into people’s thoughts through their neural interfaces?
Hank stares straight ahead and thinks, Thomas, if you can hear this, cough twice.
Thomas covers his mouth and coughs. Twice.
Holy shit! Hank lets out a low breath. They’re close to the building and any second now, things will kick off. Hank focuses his mind. When we get to the doorway, run inside. You’ll be safe there. I’ll keep Jack out here. Nod if you understand.
Thomas shakes his head. “If anything happens to him—”
Grimwood cuts him off. “Stop talking and keep moving.”
It’ll be all right, Hank thinks. Trust me.
But Thomas’s only reply is a low moan of despair.
Hank leads them around the side of the building. The entrance is just ahead, the doorway standing open.
“That’s far enough,” Grimwood snaps. “Hank, you go in first.”
Hank stops walking and turns to Thomas. Go! he thinks. Thomas, run!
But Thomas takes a faltering step backward. “No. I’m not going in there.”
“It looks like we have a situation here,” Hank says, and he hopes Eileen is hearing this. He hopes she’s ready t
o act.
Grimwood growls under his breath. “Shut up and get inside, Hank.”
“I can’t do that,” Hank says. “I need Thomas to go in with me. I need Thomas to get inside.” He risks a sideways peek at the doorway. What was that? A shadow flickers at the door’s edge. Eileen must be ready, waiting.
Hank sets his jaw. This is it. This is going to be the best chance he gets. He steps forward quickly, putting himself between Grimwood and Thomas, then he plants his hands on Thomas’s back and gives him a shove in the right direction. “Run, Thomas! Run! Now!”
Thomas staggers forward, but he turns and looks back.
“Get inside!” Hank yells. “Move!”
Thomas freezes, but Eileen bursts through the doorway in a blur of motion, dashing toward Thomas, arms outstretched to grab him.
“Shit!” Grimwood raises his rifle, training it on Eileen, and Hank goes into action. He charges for Grimwood and barrels into him, sending him sprawling to the ground, flat on his back. Before Grimwood can recover, Hank dives on top of him, his fingers scrabbling for the rifle. But Grimwood brings up his fist and slams it hard against Hank’s ear, sending a searing pain to pierce his skull. Hank cries out, but he stays put, holding onto Grimwood’s wrist with one hand, and the rifle with the other. But he can’t get a good enough grip on the gun to wrench it from Grimwood’s hand.
He hears a shout and looks up. It’s Thomas, howling in blind panic, struggling to get free from Eileen. “No!” Hank bawls. But it’s too late. Thomas is already running away from Eileen, away from the safety of the open doorway. And that split-second of distraction is all Hank’s opponent needs.
Grimwood roars and shoves Hank sideways, catching him off guard. Hank topples, landing hard on his side, and then Grimwood is on him, his weight grinding Hank’s shoulder into the earth. Hank struggles to get free, to push himself up, but Grimwood still has his rifle in his hand, and he brings the butt down hard on Hank’s fingers. Hank lets out a hiss and rolls over onto his back, ready to lash out. But Grimwood is one step ahead and he leaps forward to sit astride Hank’s chest, his knees pinning Hank’s arms. For a second, Hank stares up into the frenzied eyes of a madman, and then Grimwood is hoisting his rifle, turning it around to smash the butt into Hank’s face. Hank’s heart lurches in his chest. And that’s when Thomas launches himself into the air in a headlong dive. He collides with Grimwood, and the older man grunts as the impact drives the breath from his body. Hank flinches, but Thomas’s momentum carries him forward, and he takes Grimwood with him. Thomas and Grimwood land in an ungainly tangle of arms and legs on the ground. And Hank is free.
Hank jumps to his feet and hurries to help Thomas. Grimwood has dropped his rifle, but Eileen is already stooping to recover the weapon.
“Thomas, come on!” Hank yells. “You’ll be safe inside!” He wraps his arms around Thomas’s torso and pulls him up and away from Grimwood. Thomas struggles to stand straight, but Hank keeps hold of him and drags him backward, hauling him toward the building. He should focus on Thomas and get him to safety, but Eileen is standing over Grimwood, the rifle aimed at the man’s head, and Hank has to watch, has to see what’s going to happen.
Grimwood is lying motionless on his side, but he’s facing away from Eileen, his eyes fixed on Hank and Thomas. And he doesn’t look defeated; he looks triumphant. Hank stops, rooted to the spot, a deadly conviction fixing itself in his mind: He’s going to make a move. Hank locks eyes with Grimwood, then without looking away, he turns Thomas around and pushes him toward the doorway. “Get inside, Thomas! Now!” Thomas shuffles out of view and Hank doesn’t turn around to make sure the guy does what he’s told. Instead, he advances on Grimwood. “What have you done? What the hell have you done, you sick bastard?”
Grimwood leers at him for a split-second, then he raises his hand from the ground, and he’s holding something in his fist. He still has his back to Eileen, so she can’t see what he’s doing, but Hank watches in horror as Grimwood turns his hand, and something glints in the bright daylight.
Hank’s hand flies to his belt, and when his fingers find nothing but fabric, the world slows down. The knife! How did he get the goddamned knife? But Grimwood must’ve taken it in the struggle, seizing it from Hank’s belt when he was on the ground. Goddammit! He’s going to stab Eileen. He’s going to get what he wanted all along. But it’s not too late. Hank can still stop him. “Eileen!” he yells, loud as he can. “Get back! He’s got a knife!”
For a heartbeat, Eileen freezes, but when Grimwood springs to his feet, her instincts kick in and she jumps back, just in time. She fires, but Grimwood is a man possessed and he moves so rapidly her shot goes wide, thudding harmlessly into the soil.
Grimwood lunges at Eileen, swinging the combat knife up toward her chest, the blade carving a blurred arc through the air. Eileen twists her body and the knife misses her by a hair’s breadth. Grimwood snarls and thrusts the knife forward again, jabbing at her stomach, but Eileen takes one hand from her rifle and grabs Grimwood’s wrist, pushing the vicious blade away. And then Grimwood barges into her, his body pressed against hers, the rifle trapped between them. He wraps one arm around her while he strains to get his knife hand free from Eileen’s grip.
Hank rushes forward. Perhaps he can grab Grimwood and haul him off. But in that moment, Eileen lashes out with a brutal kick to Grimwood’s leg, and her boot connects with the man’s kneecap. Grimwood lets out a guttural howl as he stumbles backward, but he doesn’t go down. He raises his knife to shoulder height and bares his teeth. “You bitch!” he screams, and before anyone can react, he charges at Eileen.
Eileen moves her rifle, ready to shoot from waist height, but Grimwood is too fast. He closes with her, stabbing the blade at her face. Eileen has no choice but to throw herself backward, and she loses her balance, her boots slipping from beneath her. For a millisecond her arms thrash the air, then she falls, landing heavily on her back.
“No!” Hank shouts, and he seizes his chance, storming toward Grimwood, his eyes on the combat knife still firmly clutched in the man’s fingers. Grimwood begins to turn on Hank, a greedy leer on his lips, but before he can raise his knife, a shot rings out, and Grimwood’s head jerks, a spray of blood erupting from his skull. His eyes fix on Hank, his rabid stare shrouded in shocked disbelief, then his body crumples, and he collapses like a rag doll, his lifeless form hitting the ground with a muffled thud.
For a moment, Hank and Eileen stare at each other until Hank breaks the silence. “Jesus Christ! Did Stewart do that?”
Eileen picks herself up. “Yes. I’ve got him on comms. He just confirmed it.” She sniffs then brushes herself down. “He had no choice, Hank. That’s the way it had to be.”
Hank nods wearily. And then his eyes go wide. “Thomas! Did he make it inside?”
“Oh my God,” Eileen moans. “I don’t know.”
Hank runs to the doorway with Eileen hard on his heels. Inside, Thomas lies face-down on the floor, his arms and legs at awkward angles. Eileen kneels at his side and lays her hand gently on his cheek. “We’ve got to get him out of here.”
“Is he all right?” Hank asks. “Is he…still alive?”
“He’s alive,” Eileen says. “The room must’ve shielded him from the worst. But we’ve got to act fast. He could go into shock.” She stands up. “Stewart, you’ve got to get in here fast. I’ll take you back out through the battlefield.” She puts her hand on Hank’s arm. “Listen. In a minute, the system will come out of lockdown, and then you can log out. You’ll need to go back outside first, but then you’ll log off as normal. OK?”
“I don’t know. What about Thomas? Shouldn’t I stay with him?”
“No. Just get yourself out. Don’t worry about Thomas. Leave him to Stewart and me—we’ll take it from here.”
“What are you going to do?”
Eileen heaves a sigh. “We’re out of options. We’ll run a trace and find out where Thomas is logged in, then we’ll perform an emergency de
sync. We’ll make it as easy as we can for him.”
“Isn’t there another way? Can’t you bring him around and then let him log off?”
“I don’t think so, Hank. He’s too far gone.” She looks down at Thomas. “I hope to God we can find him in time.”
Hank hesitates. “Before you logged in with Stewart, did you know Thomas was already here?”
Eileen shakes her head but she doesn’t look up. “I knew someone was here, but I didn’t know who. Thomas was very clever. He covered his tracks.”
“Hell’s teeth. What if you can’t find him? What if it takes too long?”
Eileen raises her head, but a long second passes before she speaks. “I’ll find him, Hank. We know who to look for now. And I’ll take care of him if it’s the last thing I do.”
A noise from outside makes Hank turn around with a start, and Stewart appears at the doorway. He takes one look at Thomas, then he rushes in. “Eileen, how is he?”
“We’ll know more in a minute,” Eileen answers. “I’ll start a trace on his connection, then we’ll log off. He’ll still be logged in as Sanjay, and if he laid a false trail, the trace could take a few minutes, but as soon as you log out, I want you to go straight to his room in case he’s there. Failing that, you should send the security team to search for him. I’ll wait for the trace and as soon as I find anything, I’ll relay it straight to you.”
“Right,” Stewart says. “If he’s in his room, I’ll call you. Or should I try and log him off myself?”
Eileen frowns. “No. I’ll do it. I’ll need to see his headset first. When I know the model I can load it up with some software that’ll make the desync easier.”
The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2) Page 36