by Billi Jean
“Can you go faster, darling?”
“Yeah, I’m done. He didn’t send anything out and he’s living on campus in room 569 in the men’s dorms over on the south side of campus. But Robbie,” she stopped him from helping her up with a hand on his arm. “I checked only the email accounts attached to his desktop. He could have opened a new one, one we don’t know about. I think I should open that file.”
“What? Why would that help us?”
Kris frowned and her grimace grew as she tried to say something. Finally she said, “I just think I should. Maybe I can help. Maybe there’s something in that file that will help us change this from a formula that harms people to nothing more than a joke.”
“It’s not a joke, Kris, and you’re not a scientist.”
“I know I’m not. It isn’t, I mean—” she shook her head. “You’re not listening. Things like this, a flash drive with a file on it? And he’s made copies? It’s like trying to hold in the Hoover Dam with a cotton swab. Sooner or later that dam will burst. He probably told someone, maybe even shared a copy of the file, who knows? But you can change the flow of all that and stop the destruction. It’s like a virus. A computer virus,” she said, sounding excited. “Viruses are part of the system, that’s why they’re so destructive, because they modify what already exists and make it harmful.”
“So you’re saying what? Send this out, as what, a fake? And do what to the real copies? They’re still out there.”
“Maybe. But maybe this is a fake and not a copy at all. I mean, how did a kid on this campus get what I assume is top secret government information that’s never been sent via the net?”
Robert froze, halfway to rubbing his head to get his brain to work fast enough with the new variables.
“Not a copy.” It could be. The flash drive might very well hold jack shit.
The idea settled over him with a shiver. The kid had been scared. He’d been in trouble, and seeing how he’d ended up dead, he’d been right to be scared, but so had DeRoy. DeRoy had also been oddly smug. The kid had been lying to him. Something about that night, about the kid’s answers about the copies… It fit. If they’d not been able to get jack off the computer they’d fried, then maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about. Maybe the files had been destroyed before the hard drive could be retrieved enough to make sense of anything.
“Holy hell, you’re one amazing woman, Kristen. I hope you realise that, because, darling, if not, I plan on reminding you daily. Open it up,” he said, handing it over.
A blush crept over her cheeks like he’d just surprised her. “Uh, well, it might not work, or it might not be right, either.”
“Even if it isn’t, we can make it that way, right?”
“We can?”
“Sure. I have the original scientist and you. What else would we need?” he whispered in her ear. “Come on, have some faith in that amazing brain of yours. It sure the hell turns me on, darling. Now, hurry up or I’m going to walk around with a stiff—”
“Robert!” she whispered, making him laugh softly at her glance at the kid on the couch. She kissed him once when he pulled her close. “Fine, I’ll see what I can find.”
“You do that,” he responded, feeling optimistic for the first time in so long he couldn’t place the odd lightness in his chest at first. As soon as he did, he shot the feeling down. Walters still worried him, not to mention whoever the buyer was, and Sonya. He was in deep, and now he’d brought Kris along.
Kris inserted the flash drive and he watched her click her way through to opening it then scrolling down the pages of what looked like gibberish to him.
“You make sense of that?” he asked.
She shook her head and shot him a smile. “Not a word, but…” she paused, not looking away from the computer, and leant forward to read the lines on the page. “It’s not as long as I’d thought it’d be. I mean, DNA, brain functioning, this should be a huge file.”
“And? What is it?”
“About the size of my last term paper.” She laughed lightly then glanced with a frown at the couch. “It’s not nearly big enough, Robbie. This can’t be what you thought it was, but you know what? Doesn’t matter. Can’t we add a virus to this, then give it to them? Not, like, directly…”
Her excitement added to his own as her words matched his thinking. “Could this be part of the whole? Could the other disks not be copies but actually other parts to this whole?”
She blinked and seemed to muse that over before she nodded. “Sure, that would make sense. Is that what you think they did?”
“Things were sketchy from the start, but the kid looked too cool, like he’d got one up on us. Only thing is, DeRoy wouldn’t have double crossed the buyer. Not with a man that arrived in a helicopter and has enough funds to buy off your local police, let alone start his own army. A man like that, you don’t piss off. So, this could be part of a whole. They provided the part to prove they had it.”
Robert paused, thinking hard. “Maybe this buyer knew that he’d only get a portion. Maybe he also knew he’d get the rest soon. Or maybe they have the rest… Either way they’re missing a vital piece. This one,” he nodded towards the computer. “Can you make it so that when they go to add these notes to the others, it kills the entire programme?”
“Absolutely.”
“Darling, you’re genius. Add the code to make that damn thing viral and let’s see about catching some of these stupid son of—”
Kris covered his lips with a finger. “Shh, you swear like a sailor already.”
He ducked his head and kissed her, reminded of what he’d heard about Lacey making the guys watch their language. “I can handle that, now, can you add the right code?”
“Sure. Piece of cake, but how will we get it to them?”
“That’s going to be easier than you think,” he muttered.
“What?” She stopped working and turned to stare at him.
He nodded to the computer again. “You just do your work and I’ll do mine, but when I say so, you do what I say. Remember?”
Kris examined his face for something, he didn’t know what, but she must have found it because she nodded with a soft smile. “How could I forget?”
Robert grinned and turned back to the room. Soon, Walters would be here. Chances are he wouldn’t come alone either. When he arrived Robert was taking him down. Then he’d hand over the file by racing off with Kris and accidentally leaving it behind.
The two-way radio on his jacket thrummed an electronic pattern he’d shown Sam. Speaking of the damn devil. His stomach tightened and his heart began racing. This was it. He felt it to his bones. No matter what else happened, this was it for him. His last mission.
“Get ready for them, darling. Hurry up.”
“Heck, give me a minute here,” she grumbled pecking one-handed on the keyboard.
He didn’t say more, not wanting to interrupt her. After a five minutes of staying quiet, he touched her shoulder.
“Kris, now or never.”
“Okay, okay, done. It’s not golden, or pretty, but if they try to lock this information with another document it will corrupt them and burn their hard drive to the main frame it’s so ugly.”
“Hell, that’s good. Real good. Now if I give you a signal by clenching my fist by my hip, you do what?”
“I hide under the desk because it’s closest.”
“Damn that’s good,” he said, meeting her frightened look. “I love you, Kristen Reynolds, and I’m going to marry you and make you so damn happy you’ll still hold my hand sixty years from now when I take you to the Caribbean for our sixtieth wedding anniversary.”
Her eyes filled with tears at his rush of words, but she nodded bravely.
“No getting hurt.”
“No getting hurt,” she repeated in a whisper.
His spine shivered and he gripped her cold hand.
“Now behind me, now!” he shouted the last, turning to catch Walters racing first into the
lounge. He shot the dumb bastard in the chest and fired off two more shots right after, not sure if those hit or not because Walters went down. He didn’t move again, so Robert turned to the next men, catching three with shots he knew killed them instantly.
A high pitched scream of “What the hell?” indicated the kid had woke, up but Robert didn’t give him the time of day. Instead, he focused on the hallway. Seconds ticked by then with a loud throat clearing he heard a man call his name.
“Mr McNeil? I can see you’re a man of action, but I would prefer to talk to you, first, if you don’t mind.”
Kris exhaled behind him and he took her hand once to squeeze it. “Come on then,” he called.
A tall, dark-haired man dressed in a suit came into view after only a short pause. He walked right by Walters without sparing him or his downed men a glance. Six filed in around him, forming a semicircle of protection with one vital piece missing. They didn’t protect the guy’s front. Idiots.
“Don’t move,” Robert advised them.
Kris was at his back, not secure, but no one returned fire. They were big, larger than the soldiers who’d first entered the room with Walters. Each wore nothing more than a short-sleeved T-shirt and combat pants in a dull grey. They looked like movie star soldiers. But they had guns and they had them raised and aimed right at him.
“Lower your weapons,” he said.
“Ah, now, Mr McNeil, you have to understand why they aren’t going to do that.”
Robert didn’t lower his, but he didn’t speak again either. Words were a waste of time. He kept his focus on the man facing him and his gun aimed right at his head.
“So, this was much easier than I would have believed,” the guy drawled. His accent was now clearly upper-class German. “I was told he would be hard to kill, but then again, I was told you could do this.”
Robert didn’t respond. Had he been set up to kill Walters? If so, why? He had a feeling he’d find out if the German kept talking.
“He was a sick man,” he murmured, sounding shocked. He turned to regard Walters, as if he regretted his death, or at least the speed of his death. “It’s odd to realise how much beauty can mask.”
Robert had him pegged for wealthy and by the sound of his distaste over whatever Walters had done, sheltered from the sickness in the world.
“But now he is dead,” he said and turned away from his study of Walters. “Sometimes, I fear if a dog goes bad, it must be put down, no matter how painful the idea is to take another life, it still must be done, don’t you agree, Mr McNeil?”
Rob narrowed his eyes, examining the man for clues as to who the hell he was. His hair was combed ruthlessly into a part along the left into a style more fitting with the fifties than 2013. He exhaled slowly as if Robert had bothered him with too many reports at the office and waved casually to the gun Robert still held up. “I see you’ve chosen another weapon, this time a more reliable one.”
Robert stayed silent.
“Ahhh,” he sighed. “I had expected the men to do better, but they were in fact an older version of what you have there. The so-called missing piece,” he said gesturing to the computer at his back. He blew out a breath that might have been a laugh. “But I am grateful for the speed with which you took care of Walters. I suppose with him gone and these men, all the older versions have been taken care of, except of course you,” he added. “My associates call me Duke, Mr McNeil. I hope that you will do the same.”
Older version. A chill settled over Robert’s shoulder blades. He didn’t have to hear more. The man obviously had ‘improved’ upon the drug, using it for his own ends. One look at the jacked-up men he used for protection and Robert could guess how. He lowered one hand from his grip on the gun and fisted it by his hip. Kristen went down because he felt it but he also caught the tightening expression on Duke’s face. He put on a pensive look, as seeing her take cover, he knew Robert wouldn’t listen to much more.
He couldn’t let this man leave the campus. Not breathing. Whatever business he was running, at least he was only in the start-up stage. The drugs he’d created would hit buyers soon and that Robert wasn’t allowing. This changed the game completely.
Robert took a step away from the desk, shoving the chair under to block Kris even more.
“Older version, huh?”
He settled against one of the computer desks as if they’d have a chat. “Ah, yes, you were the first round, weren’t you?”
Robert didn’t answer but then the guy didn’t want one.
“Yes, you were given the drug by mistake, I believe. You died, but fooled them all with taking another breath. Did you know this was why Chung thought you were able to withstand the drug much better? Imagine that wanting to prove a theory by killing men before you injected them with a DNA altering drug is frowned upon in the US.” He laughed softly at his joke, but his gaze didn’t shift from Robert. “But in the end, you proved them right. You’re at the top of your ability.”
Shifting himself into a more comfortable spot, he gestured to Robert with a frown. “But you were as susceptible as the others. Loss of memory, I think,” he said, stroking his jaw with a hand and sighing heavily, “along with rages, isn’t that correct?”
When Robert didn’t respond, Duke nodded. “Best not to dwell on the past, I believe, but we can learn from it. My drug has modified both of those beginning symptoms and levelled out the testosterone into a more, shall we say manageable form.
“But you, you are no longer under the drug’s influence, are you? You’ve already gone through the withdrawal and without the drug, I’m afraid you’re no match for my men. You see, they’re on my version of Chung’s formula. It’s odd how close he was to perfecting his ability to control the mind and body through his research but backed off, not finishing what he had started,” he murmured more to himself than to Robert.
It seemed like they were going to have one of those long talks about how wonderful sick bastards like Duke could be.
Robert held in a growl of frustration and finally said, “Maybe he chose not to cross that line. A man shouldn’t play God.”
Duke nodded. “Ah, yes, a man shouldn’t play God, Mr McNeil, but I don’t play God—I create them. My target buyers aren’t the couple next door with their two children and a dog, my buyers are already elite, already among the wealthiest in the world. Who else could afford what I provide?” he asked with a smile that turned thoughtful when Robert didn’t rise to the bait.
“You see, this situation, you, the older formula, all of it is a problem for me. You have something that I want, and you don’t need. But I think you also have something, or shall I say, someone I don’t want but you need.” He let that settle in and Robert tried hard not to shoot the man at the threat he heard to Kris. “I had considered offering you a place among my team. Up until I walked in and realised that you don’t merely want to kill me, but destroy my work. Much as you did to this man,” he said, gesturing to Walters. “But I don’t think you’ll chance that, not without the drug’s help. You’re a man, Mr McNeil, while my men are, shall we say, a bit above that now. I think the only solution is for you to walk away. Leave the disk and I will let you and her both live.”
“It’s that easy?” Robert asked. “We just walk away and leave the disk.”
He nodded. His men were still aiming their guns directly at him and at Kris. His wasn’t moving from the shot to the man’s heart.
“Yes, like I said, you are a man. No longer on the drug, so no longer a threat. You could kill me, this is true.” He waved that off as if the idea was ridiculous. “But then, she would die. My men would shoot her and you. Such bloodshed over information that I will have, or someone else will have, sooner or later, seems a waste, don’t you agree?”
The man made it sound so easy. As if he could reason his way through this, and if not, that wouldn’t be a problem either because he could kill Robert and still win.
It was never that easy.
Robert had more t
han enough experience with the corrupt and sick bastards of the world to know that it never was. He’d have to break a rule with Kris but he knew they’d both survive.
The one flaw all of the rich and powerful possessed was they never expected people to fight back when they were outnumbered and in this case, so far below them in ability. It was a risk, but Robert couldn’t walk away from the disk now and have it do its work. The bottom line was that the bastard couldn’t live. He would come after Robert and anyone and everyone that Robert cared about for his revenge. It was the way of the powerful in this world. They threw tantrums when they lost their toys.
“This little talk isn’t keeping you alive much longer, sir.”
Duke tossed his groomed head and laughed heartily as if they were discussing something entertaining over Martinis at the club.
“Ah, Mr McNeil, I will live a great deal longer than you, I assure you.” The laughter died suddenly and he nodded to the closest man. “It’s too bad, Mr McNeil, I would have liked to see how your body handled the drug I’ve altered. But I see you’re a man of conviction.” He turned to one of the Hollywood soldiers and said, “Kill him.”
Robert didn’t dive into the fight.
The blast of gunfire nearly burst Kris’ eardrums, but she stayed curled up under the desk. She tightened her wounded arm to her chest and wrapped her other around her knees to get even smaller as the gunfire continued. She shook from head to toe and knew from the way the room was blurring that she was crying but she couldn’t seem to stop the flood.
Robert lunged over a couch and took it with him to use as a shield. The cushions exploded in a mixture of foam and dirty material and all she could think of was that the couch couldn’t possibly stop the bullets and keep Robbie safe.