Time Frame (Split Second Book 2)

by Douglas E. Richards

  “And I’ve forgotten just how self-delusional you can be!” spat Cargill.

  Knight sighed. “I know I’m wasting my breath,” he said. “And I know we’ve been down this path before. But I intend to transform the world in a way that will increase global happiness and prosperity to undreamed of levels. Having a strong leader in control isn’t always bad. Were the people of Iraq better off with, or without, Saddam Hussein? Almost everyone would say they were better off with. He ruled with an iron fist, but he established order in an unruly part of the world. He left no room for religious zealots bent on terrorism and dedicated to the death of all non-believers. How many times has America made the mistake of removing a dictator in the Middle East, only to make things worse?”

  “We aren’t talking about the Middle East,” said Cargill. “And even if we were, you aren’t talking about removing dictators in regions that have grown accustomed to them. You’re talking about inserting ones in regions that have grown accustomed to freedom.”

  “Admittedly, this analogy isn’t ideal,” said Knight. “But I have no plans to be a dictator. In areas where a firm hand is needed, I will supply it. But in most parts of the world, I’ll run things with a velvet glove. I’ll do everything to foster growth, prosperity, and freedom. Worldwide peace will be a given. All terrorism and fundamentalism will be rooted out and destroyed. No taxation will be necessary, because of the riches time travel will bring. I’ll reduce regulations, so entrepreneurs aren’t buried under red tape. I’ll institute a system of justice across the globe that will be tough but fair, based on our own concept of innocent until proven guilty.”

  As usual, Cargill couldn’t help but find Knight’s vision of paradise appealing. If one didn’t focus on the millions who would have to die to achieve it, and if one believed he could be trusted to be the benevolent ruler he described. But even if his vision could be accomplished without bloodshed, and even if Knight ruled like a saint, Cargill was against it.

  Freedom was messy. Humans were messy. No one man should have this kind of power, not even a saint. And Knight was the opposite of this. He was a butcher sure to let the power go to his head, sure to become a tyrant bent on imposing his twisted will on the world no matter what the cost in human lives.

  “Most importantly,” continued Knight, “I’ll rid the world of those at the lower end of the intelligence spectrum. Enrich it with duplicates of mankind’s greatest geniuses. Plato reasoned that only a philosopher could make a just ruler. A man not dedicated to greed and power and possessions, but a man with a great intellect, dedicated to the never-ending pursuit of knowledge, of understanding, and most importantly, wisdom.”

  “Beautiful words coming from a man who just slaughtered two people in cold blood,” said Cargill, “and then moved on without a care. We all know your position, and we’ve all rejected it. But I see now that you’re spouting off this insanity more for your sake than ours. You need to keep deluding yourself that you’re the hero of your own story rather than the villain.”

  “You know,” said Knight, “I almost want to keep you alive, just to show you the amazing future I’ll bring about. Almost. But it’s clear that no matter how compelling my arguments, you’ll never see things my way.”

  “Here’s a tip,” said Cargill. “If you want someone to subscribe to your vision of utopia, don’t gun down two innocent men just for shock value before you start spouting it.”

  “I don’t know, Lee. The two I killed were your closest associates and friends, and it hasn’t affected you a bit. I don’t sense you mourning their loss in the least. Maybe you’re colder than I am.”

  Cargill shook his head. “If you had only killed Joe, I might have bought it. But you killed Daniel. He’s one of only two men who can recreate Wexler’s theory. You’d never make the mistake of killing him until you’re certain you have what you want.”

  “Meaning?” said Knight.

  “Meaning you’ve made a copy of each of us,” said Cargill. “It’s obvious. I’m sure you plan to make an extra copy any time you kill one of us. So you never run out. If you wanted me to believe I had lost my friends forever, you wouldn’t have killed Daniel, and you wouldn’t have insisted that all of us are condemned to death. Because if you’re keeping Nathan alive, you’re also keeping Jenna alive. You know she’s your best means of controlling him.”

  Knight nodded. “Maybe you aren’t quite as stupid as I thought.”

  “Look, Edgar,” said Hank Vargas, “I’ve tried to stay out of this. Let you and Lee . . . catch up. But it’s time you told me what’s going on. Where did you get this insane idea that I’m not on your side? The last I knew I was in the back of the semi, in the tunnel. Then I woke up here. Why did you change the plan? And why have you turned on me? I did everything you asked.”

  “Enough!” shouted Knight, openly showing anger for the first time. “This is annoyingly thick-headed, Hank, even coming from you. I know you and Lee teamed up against me. You turned out to be a huge disappointment. A closet pacifist? Makes me want to puke. You came across as such a pure hawk. It was a brilliant deception, I have to admit. Had me fooled, and that isn’t easy. I really did want you as my second. None of that was a lie.”

  Cargill’s mind raced, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure out how Knight had known they were working together. The only way was if they were betrayed by Vargas, but he was in the same boat as the rest of them.

  “Can’t figure it out, Lee?” taunted Knight, as if reading his mind. “Good. You got the better of me in Lake Las Vegas, and now I’m returning the favor. Order is restored. The gifted once again come out ahead of the incompetent.”

  “Is this gloating the torture you were talking about?” said Cargill. “Because it’s very effective. Are you going to tell us how we came to be here, or are you going to bore us to death?”

  Knight laughed. “I really do miss you, Lee. I may keep a copy of you alive forever, after all, just to amuse myself. Hank told you about how I knocked him out and performed some very minor surgery on him, right? How I implanted a titanium capsule with some poison inside, which needed to be reset each week?”

  “He told me.”

  “I know he told you,” replied Knight smugly. “Because I know everything he told you. The titanium capsule wasn’t the only thing I implanted. While he was out, I took the liberty of putting a listening device in his head also. Whenever he called me, it squirted its data to his phone and on to me, without him knowing. Hope that wasn’t too much of an invasion of privacy, Hank.”

  Vargas and Cargill exchanged horrified glances.

  “What’s the matter, Lee?” said Knight. “You look ill. I mean, this has gotta hurt, right? And it should. I can’t tell you how much it hurt me to hear your exchange with the colonel during his interrogation. It made me queasy. Learning that he was sabotaging weapons programs was so disappointing. And listening while you two became soul mates was utterly sickening.”

  “If you were listening in,” said Cargill, “then you knew we were having your semi tracked when it left the tunnel. How did you elude the trackers?”

  “The plan I shared with Hank was accurate up until the time he and the pickup were enclosed in my semi. But after that, not so much. The colonel thought my plan was brilliant, but he didn’t know the half of it. I converted the entire trailer into a time machine. Had another semi parked fifty-eight feet away, just outside the tunnel. I sent all of you and the pickup into the past, into the other eighteen-wheeler, where I had Hank gassed, so you could all get some shut-eye together.” He shrugged. “Then I called the other version of Hank Vargas and told him I was on a farm in Nebraska.”

  There was a long silence in the room as the four still-conscious prisoners worked through the implications of this deception.

  “Where are we really?” said Vargas, breaking the spell.

  “In Wyoming. At a complex that will become my new headquarters. Like I said, I’m having security enhanced right now. And I’ll need to have
a large office complex built to go along with the mansion, guesthouses, and warehouses on-site. But it won’t be long until this headquarters is every bit the equal of the one I had in Lake Las Vegas.”

  “So while our people were staking out a farm that you weren’t at,” said Cargill, “and following the wrong semi, you had us brought here.”

  “That’s right,” said Knight proudly. “But there’s so much more to it than that. I made it look like I was in the farmhouse. I had nine recently hired mercs patrol outside, just for show. And you’re going to love this: I sent in missiles to destroy the farmhouse, and take out some of your strike team, as well.”

  Cargill whitened. “Why?” he demanded. “You had already won! What was the point? Another demonstration of what a rational, caring ruler you’d make?” he added venomously.

  “That’s why you don’t have any of your soldiers in this room with you now,” said Vargas. “You didn’t want them to know how callously you set up and killed nine of their colleagues, just because you needed some expendable props.”

  “This is true,” admitted Knight. “Might make them think I’m less than a model employer.”

  “Where did you get missiles?” demanded Vargas.

  “I had a lot of goodies stored at warehouses here, for a rainy day. I just need one of something, and I can make all I need. I improved the missile I acquired using Brain Trust innovations.”

  Cargill looked horrified. “So you’ve arranged for Janney and everyone else to think you’re dead,” he said. “They’ll stop looking for you. And they’ll have no idea who sent the missiles.”

  “Very good, Lee. That’s right. Seems like you just answered your own question about what the point to this was. Not only am I back off the radar, they’ll be tilting at windmills trying to figure out what phantom third party is behind this. I’ve now gotten them off my tail, and ensured they’ll begin chasing their own tails.”

  Knight raised his eyebrows. “And I had some mercenaries take out your duplicates in the semi, too. This makes it look like the phantom third party behind the missiles has it in for both of us. Even better, Lee, because of this massacre, Janney thinks you and your team are dead. So there’s no one out there looking for you, either. I could parade you through Times Square and no one would pay attention. You and your team will be written off, and Q5 will die. Exactly what I wanted.”

  Knight seemed to relish the look of absolute horror on his rival’s face. “I know you came out on the losing side this time,” he said, “but you can’t tell me you aren’t impressed.”

  “Yeah, as soon as I get out of here,” snapped Cargill, “I’ll nominate you for psychopath of the year award.”

  “We both know you’re never leaving.”

  “And we both know you’re never getting Nathan’s work,” replied Cargill. “I don’t care what kind of coercion you try. He and Daniel know how important it is, what you’d be able to do with it. And you’ve just reminded everyone that your assurances of being a benevolent philosopher king are worthless. That you’re more Hitler than Gandhi.”

  Knight smiled. “You’re forgetting something, Lee. Something important.”

  Cargill searched his mind but had no idea what Knight was getting at.

  “Give up?” asked Knight.

  “Just tell me, you fucking prick!” said Cargill.

  “You seem strangely irritable, Lee. You really need to work on that. Here’s what you’re missing. The listening device in Hank’s head didn’t just pick up that you and he were teaming up. I learned something else. I learned about a wonder drug, a truth serum called T-4. It might take me a day or two, but I’m working on a plan to get my hands on a small supply. Thanks for revealing its existence. Between you, Nathan, and Daniel, I’m sure one of you will have the courtesy of not dying after I inject it.”

  He shrugged. “And if you all do, well . . . that’s okay too. Like you so wisely noted, I’ll have made more of you.”

  The room fell silent. Cargill knew Knight was pausing to let him stew, to let him marinate in the full realization of just how badly he had lost.

  And he had. Completely. The team was helpless, and no one even knew they were still alive, let alone in a complex in Wyoming.

  There was little reason now to believe Knight wouldn’t accomplish all of his sick goals. What could stop him? He had beaten Cargill and Q5 when he was crippled. Just how formidable would he become with a few years to build his resources? And especially with the ability to teleport over a hundred miles?

  And it was Cargill’s fault. He should have realized that Knight would do something like implant a listening device in Vargas’s skull. Just because this wasn’t possible with any current technology, and Vargas had passed a routine screen for bugs, wasn’t a good enough excuse.

  He should have known better. By copying the world’s best inventors and geniuses and putting them to work, Knight had too many aces up his sleeve. While Cargill was trying to be a Boy Scout, refusing to follow suit, Knight was developing capabilities far surpassing Q5’s, at least outside of the realm of time travel. He had managed to take control of a military helicopter, plant a working bug in a man’s skull, and upgrade missiles so they could evade US defenses. God only knew what else he could do.

  Cargill should have taken greater pains to consider the many advances Knight’s Brain Trust might have made. He had been too shortsighted.

  And now the entire world would pay for his self-righteousness, and for his failure of imagination.

  66

  Blake awoke with a start and gasped. Where was he?

  A self-satisfied face came into view holding a syringe, which had no doubt been used to blast him out of his gas-induced slumber. A face that he recognized, but couldn’t immediately place.

  Blake’s hands were stretched above his head and zip tied together to a steel ring. His ankles were bound as well. And he no longer felt the reassuring presence of his gun.

  He was inside what looked to be a rec room within a mansion, complete with a small bathroom in the corner. A regulation-sized pool table and sectional sofa had been pushed into the opposite corner of the huge room, crammed there to provide as much floor space as possible, and hundred-inch monitors adorned each wall. Three guards stood near the distant door with automatic weapons slung across their chests, while the man who had injected Blake remained only a few feet away.

  Nearby, the entire Q5 team was out cold, laid out on the hardwood floor with their wrists bound together with zip ties.

  “Hello, Blake,” said his nearest captor. “Remember me?”

  Blake’s eyes narrowed in thought. Without warning, the man launched an iron fist into his unprepared stomach, a painful sucker punch that scored a direct hit on his solar plexus, driving all breath from his lungs. Blake’s body reflexively tried to double-over from the blow, but his bonds held firm and prevented this from occurring. He gasped like a fish out of water, and couldn’t draw in any air for so long he thought he might black out. Finally, just in the nick of time, his diaphragm recovered and he managed to suck in a breath.

  “I asked you a question,” said his captor calmly. “Do you remember me?”

  Upon hearing his voice a second time, Blake finally placed him. It was Jack Rourk. The man who had once been a trusted member of Q5 before revealing himself to be one of Knight’s moles. Blake had tricked him on Palomar Mountain, escaping and wounding the man in the process. “Should I?” replied Blake dismissively, suspecting this answer would get under Rourk’s skin.

  Rourk drove another fist into his gut. This time Blake was just able to tighten his stomach in time, keeping the air in his lungs, but not preventing an explosion of pain as the blow struck the precise muscle group it had before.

  “How about now?” said Rourk.

  Blake winced and waited for the intensity of the pain to subside. Perhaps getting under Rourk’s skin on purpose wasn’t as good an idea as he had thought. “Yeah, I remember you, you piece of shit!” he replied. “I
remember the last time we met. You had me at gunpoint then, also. Do you remember how that worked out for you?”

  “You got lucky, asshole. But your luck has run out. And this time, you’re going to do the suffering.”

  “Is that why you revived me early?” said Blake. “To settle a score?”

  “No shit, genius.”

  “If I got so lucky on Palomar Mountain,” said Blake, “why do you need to beat on me while I’m hogtied? I’m not asking for a fair fight, but how about at least cutting me loose from this wall? I’ll still be wrist and ankle cuffed, and you still have three other armed men in the room.”

  “You got lucky,” said Rourk, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not good. Why take any chances I don’t have to? Besides, I’m not interested in making you comfortable. I’m interested in the opposite.”

  “Where are we?” said Blake.

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Come on, Jack. Don’t you want to rub salt in my wound? Explain to me just how screwed I really am?”

  Rourk actually smiled. “You do make a good point,” he said. “You’re in a guesthouse. Guest mansion, really. Almost nine thousand square feet. Within a complex in Wyoming that Knight is turning into his full-fledged headquarters. The last place you or your team will ever see. I guess your plan didn’t work out too well, did it? Knight knew all about it. He knew you teamed up with Vargas.”

  Rourk went on to give a quick summary of what had happened, including how they had been teleported into another truck in the tunnel, the destruction of a decoy farmhouse in Nebraska, and the murders of their duplicates in the original semi.

  Blake’s breath caught in his throat as he listened. How could he have known Vargas would have a bug inside his head? Especially since no such technology was known to exist.

  And yet he should have known. It was his job to consider all possibilities, even the most unlikely, and he had failed.