Dead Shift (The Rho Agenda Inception Book 3)

by Richard Phillips

  “How about we lie down for a while and think about it?”

  Janet’s smoky laugh didn’t say no, and as her laugh teased his ears, Jack felt renewed hunger consume him. And it certainly had nothing to do with food.

  CHAPTER 76

  Jamal awoke in a hospital bed with the blue-masked faces of a doctor and two nurses swimming into focus above him. An IV tube dangled from its stainless steel stand and as he flexed his fingers, he felt the needle taped to his right forearm. Something about his head felt wrong and he found that he couldn’t move it, something that spiked his pulse and breathing. When he tried to reach up to feel his head, Jamal discovered that his wrists and ankles had been strapped to the bed’s steel rails, knowledge that moved his mental alarm meter well up into the panic range.

  Somewhere behind his bed, an alarm bleated, and he felt the doctor standing to his right place a gentle, feminine hand on his forearm as she looked down into his eyes.

  “It’s okay, Jamal. You’re safe here at Walter Reed Hospital. I’m Doctor Prost. I’ll be taking care of you.”

  Her gentle voice and touch helped, although it didn’t completely calm him. When he spoke, his first words came out of a mouth so dry that his voice sounded like the croaking of a frog rather than that of a man. The doctor placed a long plastic straw in his mouth and Jamal sipped gloriously cold water.

  “Slowly,” Dr. Prost said. “Not too much at once.”

  Jamal felt the straw gently pulled from his lips and cleared his throat. “Why am I tied down? What’s wrong with my head?”

  Dr. Prost leaned slightly over the bed, making it easier for Jamal to look into her clear green eyes. “Your arms and legs were secured to ensure that you didn’t flail and hurt yourself when you awoke. Once you are alert, I will have the nurse release those straps.”

  The doctor paused, as if her next words merited careful consideration. “Your head is being held in place by a special traction device, again to prevent accidental injury. I will let one of the waiting government officials fill you in on the details, but someone has inserted a large number of electrodes into various parts of your brain.”

  Once again Jamal felt panic threaten him with hyperventilation.

  “When I say it that way, it sounds much worse than it is,” said Dr. Prost in her caring voice. “Whoever performed the procedure was clearly an expert surgeon. Your brain appears to have suffered no significant damage.”

  “Why the traction?” Jamal asked, the fog in his head making it difficult to concentrate.

  “Because we haven’t removed the electrodes that protrude from your skull. There is no urgency to do so and there are several reasons not to perform that surgery immediately. Since the electrodes pose no immediate danger to you, high-ranking government officials have instructed us to wait until after they have had a chance to interview you before we remove them.”

  Jamal tried to swallow, failed to work up enough spit, and coughed instead. Noting his discomfort, Dr. Prost again offered him the drinking straw, this time letting him take a longer and more satisfying slurp. Jamal felt a wave of dizziness accost him and let his eyes momentarily drift closed.

  When Dr. Prost spoke again, her words carried no more meaning than the rain that splattered against the window. Then sleep stole in to carry Jamal’s worries away.

  CHAPTER 77

  The dreary D.C. Saturday morning rainstorm hadn’t helped the traffic on either the Baltimore-Washington Parkway or on the D.C. Beltway, and it had turned Levi’s drive to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center into a stop-and-go crawl.

  Levi Elias needed Jamal awake so that he could answer some questions. So when Jamal’s doctor had called to inform him that Jamal was alert, Levi had immediately set out for the hospital. But by the time Levi parked his car in the hospital lot, he wondered if his clenched teeth might have cracked the crown on one of his bottom molars. Luckily, the rain had given way to a cool drizzle that didn’t require him to open his umbrella as he strode into the main entrance and made his way to Jamal’s room.

  Dr. Prost, in green scrubs but no mask, met him in the hallway.

  Levi shook her extended hand. “I’d like to talk with Jamal in private.”

  “Okay, but not more than fifteen minutes. He’s doing fine, all things considered, but it has taken some time for his body to purge the drugs from his system.”

  Levi paused as he considered his next question. “How soon can he be released from the hospital into my custody?”

  A look of confusion settled on Dr. Prost’s face. “You mean after we are allowed to remove the electrodes from his brain?”

  “Actually, I meant prior to the electrode removal.”

  “Out of the question!”

  “But on the phone you told me that there was no real urgency in removing the probes.”

  The woman’s face turned grim. “That doesn’t mean he should be walking around with electrodes sticking out of his skull! A minor bump of the head could be fatal.”

  “What if I were to tell you that this is a matter of national security?”

  “I’d still tell you exactly the same thing. The risk is too great.”

  Levi stared at the doctor, wondering if he should have even mentioned the possibility to her.

  “I’ll see Jamal now,” he said.

  His first sight of Jamal brought a tightness to his throat caused by the low boiling anger that threatened to make its way into his face. This brilliant young man would bear the scars of this atrocity throughout the remainder of his life, and the line where his scalp had been peeled back from his forehead would leave a highly visible scar.

  Right now Jamal lay on the hospital bed with his back elevated at a forty-five degree angle, his pincushioned head immobilized by a device that was anchored by steel struts to the side rails. It didn’t look comfortable. But the pain that Levi saw in Jamal’s haunted eyes was far worse than what his physical injuries delivered.

  “Hello, Jamal,” Levi said as the door closed behind him. “I’m glad to have you back.”

  Jamal started to say something, but no words made it past his trembling lips.

  “I’m very sorry about Jillian. She was a bright and lovely young person.”

  There it was behind those dark and shining eyes, an emotional storm that was a seething mixture of rage and despair. One of those emotions could drive Jamal to do what his country needed. The other only threatened to incapacitate him.

  “I dreamed I was at Jill’s funeral,” Jamal finally said in a voice that sounded more dead than alive. “It was raining and you were there. You spoke words very much like what you just said.”

  “Tell me about that dream,” Levi said. “What else do you remember?”

  “That you asked for my help, said that I could either give up or help find the bastard that killed her.”

  Jesus! Levi had been just about to make a very similar pitch to Jamal. He managed to keep his concern out of his voice. “And then?”

  “And I did. My memory is still pretty fuzzy, but I was in the War Room with the others. You know, just doing my thing on assigned targets around San Francisco.”

  Levi froze. “Such as?”

  “The power grid, communications facilities, camera systems. Pretty much the full monty.” Jamal frowned as he studied Levi’s face. “Why did they put electrodes in my head?”

  “We don’t know for sure.”

  “But you’ve got some theories?”

  Levi thought for a moment. It wouldn’t do Jamal any good to lie to him. He was bound to find out sooner rather than later. “We think the people who kidnapped you were attempting to hack your brain to make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

  Jamal tried to nod, but the traction device prevented it, bringing a frown of discomfort to his face. “So they weren’t dreams.”

  “No.”
<
br />   Jamal closed his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them again, Levi recognized the look Jamal got whenever he was thinking hard.

  “It makes no sense. Why would they do all of this just for a single cyber-attack, even a big one? Something else is going on. Something bigger.”

  Levi nodded. “And it’s continuing. Exactly as if you were still hacking targets . . . only faster.”

  Levi saw Jamal raise his left eyebrow in disbelief. “Faster than me?”

  “Much faster, but with the same digital characteristics.”

  The doubt on Jamal’s face grew deeper. “How similar to me?”

  “Caroline Brown says it matches your work exactly.”

  Jamal snorted. “Goth Girl?”

  “She’s studied you obsessively.”

  “Envy.”

  “But is she right?” Levi asked.

  “I won’t know until I can watch one of those hacks in progress.”

  “And if she is?”

  Jamal’s mouth formed a tight line that wasn’t a smile.

  “That would be bad. Very, very bad.” His eyes focused on Levi’s. “I need to see this.”

  Levi stroked his chin. “Your doctor says it will be dangerous to take you out of here prior to removing the electrodes.”

  “If Goth Girl is right, it’ll be dangerous for everyone if you don’t.”

  Levi nodded slowly. It was exactly what Dr. Jennings and Dr. Kurtz had told Levi and Admiral Riles last night.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER 78

  Janet Price awoke to the feel of Jack’s naked body pressed against hers as the sunrise streamed in through the east-facing window. Extracting herself from his draping left arm, she slid from the bed to stare down at him. Jack was so sound asleep that, if she hadn’t just felt his warm body and seen the rise and fall of his chest, she might have thought him dead. A new worry burrowed its way into her head. Despite what Jack told her about his latest encounter with Anchanchu, was it possible that he was again trapped in a strange dream, unable to awaken?

  She leaned over and placed a hand on his cheek, gently running her fingers up through his brown hair. Jack’s eyes slowly opened. Last night, in the midst of their passion, she’d seen that strange red glint in those eyes, but this morning they were just a lovely shade of brown. Jack reached for her, but Janet stepped back, laughing.

  “Down, boy,” she said. “How about making us some coffee while I shower . . . and I mean by myself this time.”

  Jack propped himself up on his elbows and Janet felt her eyes drawn to the scars that crisscrossed the lean muscles that rippled beneath his skin. For a moment she struggled with the temptation to change her mind, but then steeled herself and turned away.

  “What a crime,” Jack called after her.

  “Deal with it,” Janet said as she turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower.

  By the time Janet finished dressing in jeans and a clean navy pullover and retrieved her coffee, her body felt better than it had at any time during the last week. Even the scalp wound seemed to be healing nicely. Or maybe it just took a night of great sex to make the world feel brighter in the morning.

  As she heard Jack start his shower, a sip of the in-room coffee took a bit of the shine off her nearly perfect morning. When the heavy battering ram sent the door crashing into the room, followed by a team of gun-wielding FBI agents, her warm glow disappeared entirely.

  “Down on the floor! Hands behind your head!”

  Janet complied. The sound of a wet body slapping the floor in the bathroom and the lack of gunfire told her that Jack hadn’t resisted. Small favors.

  By the time she was cuffed, read her Miranda rights, and thrust into the back of an FBI van next to a naked and blanket-wrapped Jack, Janet’s patience with the agents from her sister service had begun to wear thin. When she saw the FBI agent who climbed in to sit across from her, the remainder waned away completely.

  Agent Greene leaned in close enough that she could smell the cherry cough drop he’d been recently sucking on. “Hello, Ms. Blanchard, or whatever your real name is. Your federal release order turned out to be a fake, as did your ICE credentials. I don’t know how you pulled that off, but believe me, before I let you out of my sight again, I’m going to find out everything there is to know about you and your partner.”

  Janet smiled back at him. “You just can’t resist getting in over your head, can you, Agent Greene?”

  Agent Greene’s malevolent look gave Janet a good idea of what he had in mind. This time their interrogation wouldn’t go so easy.

  CHAPTER 79

  Jamal Glover was having memory issues and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t anything important, just little things that slipped his mind. It was as if he would notice something that seemed wrong and then when he paused to examine it, he couldn’t recall what it was that had distracted him. Oh well, he could deal with it later. Right now, as he strolled into the War Room and slid into the cockpit of his Scorpion workstation, he had far more important matters to deal with.

  To his left on the next tier down, Goth Girl made her way to her workstation, gracing Jamal with a scowl that just made him feel good inside. He caught a quick wink from Gary Charles, who squeezed into his own Scorpion on Jamal’s lower right. Today Jamal felt sharper than he remembered, his mind clicking with a crystal clarity that was intoxicating.

  As he plopped his head back against his headrest, Jamal took a moment to geek out, enjoying the way the Scorpions had been designed by gamers for gamers. This was his personal Starfighter, and it was about to carry him into the battle that awaited his arrival. So many bad guys to hack, so little time. Yes. Today, all was right with the world.

  A glance up at the task queue told him that today the Dirty Dozen would be playing defense against a major cyber-attack in progress. It wasn’t their job to figure out who was attacking or to perform a counterattack. Instead Jamal and the others were just supposed to identify and stop every attack or probe that showed up in that queue, and it was filling up fast.

  As fast as he could, Jamal began grabbing tasks from the queue and dealing with them, making it his quest to establish a new personal record for speed and efficiency. And the more he pressed, the faster he got, until his finger seemed to fly across the keyboard faster than humanly possible.

  There it was again, the odd thought that slipped away as he examined it.

  He shoved the distraction aside and gave a satisfied glance up at the name that topped the daily scoreboard. The next name down on the list was Caroline Brown and he’d already more than doubled her score. It was time for Goth Girl to eat his dust.

  Now this was what he called fun!

  CHAPTER 80

  Steve Grange was scared shitless.

  Seated at a workstation in Grange Castle’s ground-level computer center, he watched the data readouts that monitored VJ14, the iteration of virtual Jamal that he’d exposed to the Web. Beneath his breath, Grange whispered an affirmation that was as close as he ever came to a prayer.

  “So far so good.”

  The addition of Grange’s latest stunting mechanism to virtual Jamal’s artificial intelligence seed was designed to add an additional containment layer to the many Grange had already put in place. Having thus far prevented VJ14 from recognizing its virtual nature or the fact that it was trapped within a Web-connected simulation, the code change appeared to be working.

  After the simulation failure during the VJ13 test, Grange had been pushing Delores Mendosa and her CGI development team to improve the quality of the simulation. To be fair, there were current technological limits on replicating fine details like the behavior of dust particles within the simulated environment.

  But every increase in the level of detail of simulation graphics required an exponential growth in available processing power tha
t soon became infeasible. What happened if you wiped your finger across a dusty ledge? Did it leave a mark in the dust? Did it make your finger dirty? What if you blew on the ledge instead?

  There was an old saying that applied to all physics models: the map is not the territory. The problem was that, for the next couple of days, Grange needed to make VJ14 think that it was. At the very least, he needed VJ14 to fail to explore the differences.

  In the meantime, Grange would continue to push Delores’s team to their limits. When Helen’s life depended on getting this right, going easy on people who worked for him wasn’t an option.

  Grange turned to Dr. Morris, who was seated at the workstation to his right.

  “Okay, Vicky. I’m going below. Until I get back, VJ14 is all yours. If you even think there might be a containment problem, shut it down, and then notify me.”

  Dr. Morris nodded, the look on her intense face a strange mixture of anticipation and dread. Grange sympathized.

  By the time he had made his way through all the layers of security and into his underground laboratory, he’d managed to compartmentalize his worries so that they didn’t threaten his concentration on the task at hand. But before he made his way down the long hallway that led to the Isolated Test Chamber, he needed to restore his soul. There was only one place on earth that provided the release he so badly needed: the room where Helen slept her twenty-year sleep.

  Placing his palm against the scanner, Grange watched as the door disappeared into a slot in the wall. Cold air flowed out around his legs and feet as he stepped forward, hearing the door whisk closed behind him. The stainless steel cylinder that housed Helen’s frozen body loomed before him and Grange gently reached out a hand to caress it as he pictured the face of the woman he still loved after all these years.

  This wasn’t how he had pictured things working out, back when he’d first set himself on this dangerous course of action. He’d intended to preserve her body until medical technology advanced to the point that she could be awakened and cured. But it had quickly become clear to him that medical technology did not offer that answer . . . not within his lifetime.