Crash Into Pieces (The Haylie Black Series Book 2)

by Christopher Kerns

  He closed his eyes, powered by the vision. Heavy breaths coming in and out. Serves you right, you son of a bitch. Caesar raised his arms above his head, pushing his hands into the air and stretching his head back.

  They wanted to start a war. Well, they’ve got themselves a—

  “Caesar.”

  The voice cut through the room, rocking him off balance. He opened his eyes, searching, wondering if it was just in his head. But there was nothing; just the same muted television. The same Python script running on his screen. He reached forward to click the—

  “Caesar, you have to stop this.”

  It can’t be.

  He lost his footing, stepping back a few paces as his heart pounded. He ran to the door, checking the peephole. No one was there. He darted into the bathroom, flinging the shower curtain aside, but it was empty. He stumbled back into the room, resting his hand against the wall.

  I know that voice. But it can’t be.

  “Caesar, it’s me. It’s Haylie.”

  He leaned against the wall, looking down at the laptop.

  This isn’t happening. You haven’t slept. This is just—

  “I’m in New York. I’m with the FBI. I know what you’re doing, you need to stop it before it’s too late.”

  He opened his eyes back up, approaching the desk with cautious steps. He sat down in front of his laptop gripped it with both hands, pressing his ear as close to the speakers as it would go.

  Is she—is she really alive?

  “You’re—are you there? Are you really there?” he whispered.

  “I’m here—I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.”

  “The plane—the plane that went down,” he stuttered. “The reports, they said—I thought I might have killed you. I was so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “That wasn’t me. It was someone else. Her name was…” Caesar heard his sister’s voice—thank God, his sister’s voice—fighting back tears on the other side of the line. “Her name was Mary. She was my friend … I know it was you. I’m sure you weren’t trying to kill her, but this has gone too far. All of it. You need to stop.”

  Caesar collapsed into a heap on his computer, tears falling once again. She’s alive. You didn’t—she’s alive. She’s all right.

  “Caesar—are you still there?”

  Laughing through his tears, Caesar nodded and hit the volume key up a few times. “Yes, yes I’m still here. Haylie … I’m so … I’m just so....”

  “Stop,” she said, raising her voice. “We’re running out of time. Give control of the plane back to the pilots. Close your laptop. Get out of there.”

  The relief filled him, pulsed through his veins. The last hours of grief and depression wilted away, slowly, from his mind. As the clouds fell, he saw the picture in front of him—the scripts pinging servers. The flight controls, still spinning wildly.

  “None of it matters, Haylie. None of it. Can’t you see that? I can see it now.”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot,” Haylie’s voice cracked as she continued on. “But this matters. It matters to the people on that plane. You’re not in a good place—this isn’t you.”

  “No,” he said. “These people—this is what they deserve. You’re alive, but Sean’s still dead. And there will be others. The people on that plane—it’s their fault. Hancock—their blood is on his hands. I’m ready to pay for my mistakes; they need to do the same.”

  “There are other ways,” Haylie said.

  Shaking his head, he ran his hand down his face, wiping the sweat away, beginning to shake. His mind was returning, the picture become clear once again. “I can’t, Haylie. I can’t do it. Hancock’s going to win—do you know what that means? For you and me? He’ll lock us up, both of us. No trial, no jury. Just gone.”

  “All you’re doing is proving him right,” she pleaded. “You can still get away. You can still stop this without anyone else dying. Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?”

  Caesar ran his hands through his hair. Trying to clear his mind. Trying to think.

  >>>>>

  FBI Command Center, NYC

  Haylie hit the “Microphone Mute” button and turned to Agent Wilcox, her tone turning frantic. “It’s not working. He’s not listening. I don’t know what else to say.”

  The room stood silent, rows of analysts and suits lined up, listening to her every word.

  “Yes you do, Ms. Black,” Agent Wilcox said. “Just tell him the truth.”

  “Crash,” Vector whispered. “You can do this. Stop talking to him like he’s just another guy. Talk to him like he’s your brother.”

  She paused for a moment, looking at the screen in front of her. The ancient phone wires strewn across the room. The monitors, showing every data feed that they could get their hands on. She turned back to the microphone, clicking it off mute.

  “You and I—we’re better than this,” she said.

  There was a still silence from the other side of the line. She nodded and continued on.

  “That’s what you always told me when we were kids—when I was headed in the wrong direction. And you were right, every time. We know better—that’s what sets us apart from them.”

  You could hear a pin drop in the control room as all eyes stayed locked on Haylie, huddled over her laptop’s microphone.

  “I thought I was lost,” Haylie whispered, hunched over the laptop. “When I was taken offline. I thought my world was over. Being connected was the only thing I cared about, the only thing that I could think of. But it didn’t matter—I know that now. What’s really important is staying true to who we are. And to the people we care about. I can’t lose you. I can’t watch you go down this route, Caesar. I’ll break.”

  She heard nothing but silence from the other side of the line. Looking up to the screen on the far wall, she saw the airplane’s altimeter still scrolling downward.

  “The only reason I am who I am is because of you,” Haylie said. “But this is too much. If you go through with this, I’ll have nothing left. Step back—think about what you are trying to do. I know you want to make things better, but this isn’t the way.”

  There was silence on the line. She tried one more time.

  “You don’t have to save the world, Caesar. Not like this. Let the weight off your shoulders. This time, just let the world—as crazy as it is—just let it be.”

  Haylie watched and waited, tears rolling down her cheeks. Caesar didn’t speak. She felt a chair move in next to her and turned to see Vector.

  “It’s over, isn’t it?” Haylie asked Vector. “I failed.”

  >>>>>

  Grand Palace Hotel, Rome

  Caesar stared down at the flight controls, the plane’s altitude falling, nearing the point of no return. He looked over to the open window. The breeze had stopped, the curtains lay flat against the sill.

  The words echoed through his head.

  We’re better than this.

  >>>>>

  FBI Command Center, NYC

  The control room waited, watching the plane plummet closer and closer towards the ocean.

  “You did what you could do,” Agent Hernandez said. “And that’s all that anyone—”

  “Haylie,” Caesar’s voice said over the speakers.

  The room once again fell to a hush as Haylie clicked the microphone back on.

  “Caesar,” she said, leaning in. “I’m here.”

  “I just wanted to make things better,” he said. A long pause followed, heavy breaths from the other side of the world. “I thought that I could make a difference. But not like this.”

  A loud warning sounded from a machine across the room. An analyst jumped from his chair, pointing at a monitor that showed the plane’s altitude had just dipped under ten thousand feet.

  “Don’t trust them,” Caesar’s voice rang over the speakers. “Any of them. And stay safe.”

  Haylie stared down at the table, waiting to hear more. Waiting for him to continue.


  Say something.

  There has to be more.

  Say something, Caesar.

  “The plane is righting its course,” an analyst yelled from across the room. “The pilot has regained control.”

  “Are you sure?” Wilcox asked.

  “I’m getting audio from the cabin,” another analyst said, giving a thumbs up. “They’re climbing in altitude, setting course for an emergency landing at JFK.”

  >>>>>

  Grand Palace Hotel, Rome

  The white text scrolled down the command line window as Caesar watched each character fly by for what seemed like hours. Names, precincts, vote tallies. He lost all sense of time as he fell into the code, admiring each line as the script executed its task flawlessly. With precision. Just as it had been written.

  He reached out to the machine and pressed down hard on the power button, keeping the pressure on for a few seconds as the screen snapped to black. He turned, watching the muted television report breaking news of a mechanical failure on Senator Hancock’s plane that had caused a scare, but was now reported fixed.

  A live feed showed Hancock’s plane taxi across the tarmac, surrounded by emergency vehicles, as the inflatable slides popped out at each exit.

  He leaned back onto his bed, closing his eyes, and drifted away.

  We’re better than this.

  At least we’re supposed to be.

  >>>>>

  FBI Command Center, NYC

  Haylie looked down at her coffee on the table, not able to bring herself to lift it to her lips as the room buzzed around her. She reached out and saw her hand shaking. She drew it quickly back to her side.

  Vector slid in next to her, pointing up to the newscast on the opposite wall: a shot of Senator Hancock walking from his plane, a bandage across his forehead and his hair disheveled, but still playing the part of the perfect politician. He waved to the camera and shook hands with any member of the ground crew he could find.

  “Well, that was quite a week, don’t you think?” Vector asked with a smile, waiting for one in return. He didn’t get one. “You know, for people without jobs, it sure feels like we need a vacation.”

  Haylie nodded silently, managing to summon up the energy to reach out for her drink. She brought it in close to her body, hoping to absorb some of the warmth through her skin, hoping for something to cut through the dull ache that she felt through her body. She was dreading what she had to do next, but it had to be done.

  “Pretty smart of you there at the end,” Vector said.

  “What … What are you talking about?” Haylie asked.

  “To talk to him, you know? You had all this tech … You knew his location … You could have tried to do all sorts of stuff to his machine. But instead of trying to block him, you just talked to him. Just person to person. Sister to brother.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever works.”

  “I just think it’s kind of funny, you know?” Vector said. “I mean, this whole time you’ve been trying to get your hands on tech. ‘I need more tech,’ you’ve been saying, over and over. You wouldn’t shut up about it, really. And then, at the end, it turned out that all you needed to do was to talk to him. To use your voice. You know?”

  Haylie stared daggers back at him. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “I just think it’s ironic, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she shot back. “It’s ironic.”

  “Kind of funny, you know?”

  “Yes. It’s hilarious. Everyone here,” Haylie gestured around her with a pissed-off look in her eyes, “everyone understands how ironic that is. You don’t have to—”

  “Ms. Black,” Agent Wilcox said, approaching from the other side of the table. “Nice work today.”

  “It wasn’t how I wanted it to happen,” Haylie said.

  “In this job,” Agent Wilcox said, “any day you can make the world a little better is a good day.”

  “Everyone on the plane—they’re all right?”

  “A few bumps and bruises,” Agent Wilcox said. “A few people who will need a day off here or there, but nothing they can’t shake off. Like my ma used to say back home: ‘Just rub some dirt on it, you’ll be fine.’ ”

  “The Endling … He got his deal?”

  Agent Wilcox smirked. “Since when do you care about the well-being of Mr. Anthony Feist?”

  “I care about what’s right,” Haylie said. “I promised him a deal. Did you deliver?”

  “I am a woman of my word,” Agent Wilcox said. “He has his deal.”

  Haylie nodded. She reached down to a notepad on the table, flipping it over and slid it over to Wilcox.

  “These are Caesar’s coordinates,” Haylie said, her face drained of all life.

  Agent Wilcox froze in place, her eyes locked on the paper. Vector rose from his chair, backing away in shock.

  “Get there fast,” Haylie said. “But no casualties. Non-lethal force. I don’t want Caesar to get hurt. Promise me that. You’re a woman of your word, isn’t that right?”

  Agent Wilcox snatched the pad from the table and handed it to an analyst waiting behind her. He ran off, dialing his phone. “You have my word, Ms. Black.”

  Vector slid back in his chair, staring back at Haylie. “What was that all about? What did you just do?”

  “He’s gone too far,” Haylie said. “He’s not the person I remember—something’s happened. He’s changed. But either way, he needs to be safe, and this is the only way I can make sure that happens.” She fell back into her chair, watching the television with dull attention as the presidential motorcade carved its way through New York. “I wish it wasn’t. I wish everything had turned out differently.”

  The laptop in front of her still showed the live view of Caesar’s election data, flowing in, vote after vote. Crafted from hacks that turned the world upside. Timed perfectly, so that every single vote would tip the scales. Flowing in from across the world—from thousands of machines born from Caesar’s machine and sent all the way to this room, right here, to her.

  She closed the lid to the laptop and pushed it away from her. She grabbed Vector’s hand, closed her eyes, and let her mind drift away.

  Sometimes to do what you believe in, you have to give something up. But nobody said it would be easy.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Littlefield Hall, University of Texas

  Austin, TX

  December 15th, 11:14AM

  Haylie pushed her dorm room door open, letting it swing free against the back of the wall with a resounding thud. She had thought about falling down to her knees and trying to pick the lock for her final visit—just for old time’s sake—but had opted instead for the convenience of a key.

  Never spin yourself in circles on work you don’t have to do … or something like that.

  The smell of stagnant air greeted her as she craned her neck to look inside. She stepped over the threshold and saw a room that looked familiar, but very different to the one she had left. Her bed had been overturned, drawers gutted. Every book on her desk had been splayed open, like a salmon butterflied on the supermarket counter. It appeared that the government agents on duty the night she had disappeared were aiming to leave no stone unturned and had accomplished their task with great enthusiasm.

  Hope you guys had fun.

  She paced over to the window and cracked it open, feeling a wave of cool, crisp air flood across her face, pushing her hair back behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, feeling the chill of the Texas winter across her teeth. Looking down into the courtyard, she could see students passing by, carving their paths into the sunlight as they huddled for warmth. Gusts of breath shot out in long draws and short puffs, with hurried steps to make it out of the cold and back inside.

  Haylie’s new deal with Agent Wilcox had sent ripples through the law enforcement community. Not only did the Endling—sorry, Anthony—get a degree of freedom and an ankle bracelet of his own, but Haylie was released from her probation and all charges for
her short recess from government custody had been dropped. A small price to pay for restoring democracy to America, and for agreeing never to tell a soul that any of it had ever happened.

  After Haylie had handed over her brother’s coordinates, the NSA team on the ground in Rome had quickly, and peacefully, found Caesar in his hotel room. He hadn’t put up a fight; in fact, he had even greeted them at door with his hands in the air. Haylie had heard rumors that Caesar had laid out all of his hardware on the hotel desk for the agents—powered down and ready for inspection. After being questioned, Caesar had been taken to a prison in California. That’s all Haylie knew, and all she was ready to find out. For now.

  Hearing a rustling behind her, Haylie turned to find Vector’s gift from a few weeks back laying on the ground, fluttering in the breeze. The agents had spared the poster from rips or tears, but had been sure to check behind it on the wall for anything that might be hiding back there. It read the same message as before, this time looking up from the carpet.

  ONLY TRUST THE

  GOVERNMENT

  AS MUCH AS

  THE GOVERNMENT

  TRUSTS YOU.

  Haylie shook her head with a smile, reaching down to retrieve the poster from the floor and, with the help of a few pieces of tape, hung it back up in its place, right where it belonged. She took a few steps back, studying the words, tracing each letter with her eyes, mouthing them to herself in a whisper.

  She surveyed the room. Plucking a few choice pieces of clothing from the floor, she kicked everything else out of her path on her way to the door. She flicked the light switch off, tossed the key onto the desk, and let the door latch shut behind her.

  She didn’t even bother to turn around for one last look.