The other five members of the team were now all retreating. Retreating?
But why? Had one of them tripped a silent alarm? Were the mines about to be re-armed? From everything he had heard and could view through the binoculars, the mission could not be going any better.
They wouldn’t just retreat like this on their own. The order must have come from Hall. Campbell would have given anything to know what had prompted the civilian mind reader to issue these orders.
Then another thought came to him from left field. What if Hall had sent them to rescue Alex Altschuler? Maybe he had read something alarming that caused him to think Altschuler was about to be killed. He cursed under his breath at the bad luck of losing his earpiece, although a part of him realized just how lucky he really was, since by rights he should have lost the hand-to-hand skirmish along with his life.
So what should he do? Should he retreat also? Hall wouldn’t have called a retreat unless the situation was all but hopeless.
But so what? They couldn’t let the implants leave here with Victor under any circumstances. If they lost this opportunity they would never get another. And even if his chances were one in a hundred, he had to try. He couldn’t live with himself if he did anything less.
He took a deep breath and slowly moved forward toward his goal, the main lodge, one careful step at a time, keeping to the tall grass and other cover whenever he could find it.
Finally, after several more minutes, he reached the main lodge. He paused for just a moment and prepared to open the door, this time without Nick Hall to tell him if anyone was behind it.
He took a deep breath, knowing it could well be his last, and entered.
No one was in sight.
Relieved, he listened carefully and heard speaking coming from a room down the hall to his right. And it was Spanish. Almost certainly Victor himself.
He crept through the open door to the room as quietly as he could. Victor and Eduardo Alvarez were deep in conversation, and both were turned away from him. Their posture and lack of interest in who might be coming through the door made it clear that they had not been alerted. So why had Hall, who looked to be asleep on a black leather couch, called off the attack?
“Freeze!” shouted Campbell, his gun extended, and both Victor and his second-in-command jumped like cats hit with a squirt gun. Victor recovered quickly, reaching under his desk for either an alarm or weapon, but Campbell sent a short burst of gunfire in this direction, discouraging him from moving his hand another inch.
A rush of triumph flooded through the colonel’s veins. They had done it. It was over.
And then he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed hard into the back of his neck.
“Drop your weapon!” shouted a familiar voice.
It was the voice of General Justin Girdler, a man who had been a friend and mentor for many years. A man who had been almost a father to him.
“Drop it or you’re dead!” shouted Girdler, and his tone left no doubt that he would carry out this threat without hesitation.
59
Campbell’s shoulders slumped in defeat and surrender and the gun slipped from his fingers and to the floor with a steel clang. Agonized thoughts stabbed at him like ice picks. How had this happened? They had been on the verge of total victory.
And why hadn’t Hall told him Girdler was coming from behind? Why was he still faking unconsciousness?
Or had he somehow been rendered unconscious for real?
This was the only explanation. With Hall awake, Girdler could not have snuck up on them, could not have even gotten to within miles of them, without him knowing it. After Campbell got the drop on Victor and Alvarez, Hall could have shouted a warning to Campbell from the couch.
Nothing made sense. Hall had called off the team and had failed to warn him.
“This is my protégé,” Girdler told Victor. “Colonel Mike Campbell. As I am sure you’re aware.”
“I am,” said Victor.
“How did he find you?” asked Girdler, shaking his head in irritation. “I’m better than he is, and I tried for years.”
“I don’t know,” said Victor suspiciously. “But it seems too unlikely a coincidence that he found me right when I invited you to this location for the first time. Perhaps you set a trap for me after all, General.”
“Perhaps you aren’t as bright as I’ve always thought,” snapped Girdler. “If this were a trap, why would I stop this man? I’d be helping him. He had you dead to rights.”
Victor considered, and while he must have known this was true, he still appeared troubled by what he clearly felt was an improbable coincidence.
Girdler raised an eyebrow. “So,” he said, suddenly looking amused, “who’s the guy on your couch?” He gestured toward Hall with his head while he continued to hold a gun on the colonel.
“A prospective customer,” said the arms dealer.
Girdler laughed. “Now I get what’s going on,” he said. “I didn’t cross you, Victor. You’ve been duped. A customer is the last thing this guy is. I know him well. He’s working with Campbell.”
Victor’s eyes widened. “You’re positive?”
“Never more,” said the general. He shrugged. “Looks like Campbell finally managed to do what I failed to do. Fool you.” He shook his head. “Well, this location is blown to hell. I’m sure he reported back that you were here.”
“I have other secure locations I can get to.”
“You were very lucky I was here and recognized something fishy was going on.”
“Where is Alex Altschuler?” asked Victor.
“Campbell’s men began shooting and Altschuler tried to run for it. Your guy shot Altschuler and then he, himself, was hit by one of your uninvited guests.”
Victor shook his head. “And that’s all it took for you to recognize that something fishy was going on?” he said wryly. “Very perceptive.”
Girdler smiled. “I concede it didn’t take much of a detective to figure out. But you were the beneficiary. So I’ll tell you what. How about if I stay behind and take care of Campbell and his slumbering friend, since others are sure to be arriving any minute. You leave in peace to whatever new location you choose. But I’m sure you’ll agree that you owe me something for this service, and saving your ass in the first place. And you know I gave you the deal of the century on the implants.”
“What do you want?”
“Another five million?” said Girdler with a smile.
“Done,” said Victor.
Campbell was feeling ill and barely able to think, let along speak, but he finally found his voice. “Justin, what are you doing?” he said, his tone tortured. “Betraying your country? Betraying me? How can you do this?”
“Fuck my country!” shouted Girdler. “Fuck you! We’re all dead and gone to dust soon anyway. Heaven is nothing but a fable. So fuck this world! I’ve sacrificed long enough. Time to look out for number one.”
Campbell opened his mouth to respond when Girdler pulled the trigger, and the colonel dropped to the floor, his world instantly turning black.
60
Campbell’s eyes fluttered open and his first thought was euphoric: there was an afterlife after all.
But when he spied Nick Hall beside him in the SUV his thinking changed. On the other side of Hall, Alex Altschuler was also present, strapped into a seatbelt like Campbell but with his eyes still closed.
“Nick?” he muttered, half addled, still trying to fathom how he could possibly be alive.
“Colonel!” said Hall excitedly. “You’re awake. Welcome back.”
“How long was I . . . out?” he asked.
“Just a few hours. You were hit with a tranquilizer gun.”
“What’s going on?” mumbled the colonel, glancing at the front seat where Justin Girdler was at the wheel.
“We’re only a few minutes away from Heather and Megan. They’re at a motel. How about you finish recovering your senses and we’ll bring everyone up to speed at the sa
me time when we reach them.”
Campbell nodded and closed his eyes again. He hadn’t fully recovered from whatever was in the tranquilizer, but he felt great. Drowsy, yes, but also in a drug-induced, and thrilled-to-be-alive induced, euphoria.
“Where is the rest of the assault team?” he whispered.
“I aborted the mission,” replied Hall. “I sent them back to Kingsley Field and home. They’re all in perfect health.”
“And Alex?” said the colonel, managing to gesture feebly in his direction.
“Out cold. But he should be waking up any minute. He should have come to before you did.” Hall shrugged. “But I guess he doesn’t weigh much, so it makes sense.”
Altschuler mumbled something unintelligible right on cue, and he lifted eyelids that, judging from the effort this required, weighed at least a hundred pounds.
“Welcome back, Alex,” said Hall. “Glad you could join us.”
“Nick?” he whispered weakly. “Barely recognize you. Hate the beard.”
Hall laughed. “Yeah, I don’t love it either, I’m afraid.”
Hall held off all questions until they arrived at the motel. When they did, the small low-rent room became an emotional maelstrom. Heather had feared her fiancé was dead for some time, and their relief at being reunited after such a long separation was understandably intense. And while Megan had been reunited with Hall previously, his safe return from a perilous mission also brought forth a passionate outpouring of emotion.
And through it all, everyone on the team except Hall managed to glare at Girdler with unbridled hostility, and pose bitter questions about his presence, creating a stew of conflicting sentiment. Absolute love and absolute hatred battled for supremacy, creating an emotional electricity in the room that was almost palpable.
While the two couples greeted, Campbell realized that his automatic pistol had been magically returned to him and he pointed it steadily at his former mentor. After the greetings had concluded the two women and Alex Altschuler were clearly in approval of Campbell’s actions, and if glares could kill, the general would have been dead many times over.
“Put the gun down, Colonel, and hear him out,” said Hall. “You realize he didn’t have to give you your weapon back, right? He knew how you were likely to react.”
The colonel stared back at Hall in disgust. “Are you suddenly his guardian angel?” he spat. “Why didn’t you warn me at the ranch? We could have stopped Victor!” His upper lip curled into a snarl. “So were you working with Girdler this entire time?”
“You’re still at little addled from the tranquilizer,” said Hall calmly. “Or you would know better than to even ask that. You know the lengths I was willing to go to stop Victor. Yes, I could have warned you. And yes, I did choose to side with the general. But that didn’t happen until a few minutes after you lost communications with me. I would have tried to explain, but you no longer had an earpiece.”
“And what would you have explained?”
“I’d rather let the general field that, since this was all his doing. But put down the gun. There is a rational explanation for all that happened. You may not agree with it, and that is fine. But are you really going to shoot him before you learn what it is?”
Campbell knew Hall was right and reluctantly lowered his weapon, still glaring at his former mentor. He looked around the cramped motel room and everyone but Hall shared his confusion and uncertainty.
The colonel found it ironic that this was a group that had met on luxury yachts and in multimillion dollar mansions. But now here they were, in a cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. How the mighty had fallen.
Or was this room somehow a better representation of the collective nature of the group than the previous luxury settings? Perhaps they were less like prize poodles, preening in a cosmic show, and more like cockroaches, living hidden under the floorboards in a seedy motel, but always finding a way to survive despite the presence of so many angry boots above them.
And Campbell knew enough psychology to realize that his hatred of Girdler now was inversely proportional to how much he had loved, admired, and respected him before. Being hurt by an enemy was one thing. But being betrayed by someone you loved and trusted was the ultimate pain.
“Go on,” said Campbell, nodding at Girdler. “Have your say. Let’s get this over with.”
61
Heather and Megan sat at the front ends of each of two queen-sized beds, spaced a few feet apart, on ugly floral bedspreads. Altschuler lowered himself onto the desk chair on the right side of the room and Hall sat on the desk nearby, pushing a phone and pad of paper to the side to make room. Campbell took a seat on top of a long dresser positioned in the center of the room, just under a television affixed to the wall.
All eyes were on Girdler, the lone inhabitant of the left side of the room, standing with his back against the wall, both literally and figuratively.
“I know I’ve put everyone here through hell, and I’m truly sorry about that,” began Girdler. “If I thought there was another way, I would have taken it. I can understand the hostility you’re feeling. And I don’t blame you for it. But I’m asking you to throttle back while I explain. To not waste all of your energy on a constant outpouring of hatred in my direction. I get it. You feel betrayed and you despise me. But I need us to have a calm, reasoned discussion, and this won’t help.”
The expressions and body language around the room softened, but not by much.
“I don’t care what you say,” spat Campbell. “There can be no justification for putting ten thousand sets of implants into the hands of someone like Victor. A man in a better position than any other to ensure this technology is used by our worst enemies.”
“That’s what I thought, also,” said Hall. “Until I read the general’s mind at the ranch. I’m still not entirely in agreement with him, but what I read did cause me to change course a hundred and eighty degrees.”
Campbell frowned deeply but nodded at the general to continue.
“I don’t have to review my concerns about widespread adoption of the BrainWeb technology,” said Girdler. “They’re concerns we all have, and concerns we’ve discussed at length. But these worsened after Nick was outed. We all agreed when this happened that the cat was out of the bag, never to be fully returned. Too many people knew, not only that Nick was still alive, but about his ESP. And secrets this good have a way of leaking.”
“Okay,” said Altschuler. “So you became even more worried that dangerous players would mount initiatives to perfect mind reading. So what?”
“I’m just getting started,” replied Girdler. “The BrainWeb implants were the catalyst behind Nick’s ability, and are likely to be a critical ingredient, an absolute requirement. So it occurred to me that no matter how many groups were hunting for the secret to mind reading, they couldn’t succeed without the implants being available. Conversely, once the implants become widely available, cracking the ESP code becomes a near certainty.”
“Why is that?” asked Heather.
“Implants won’t become as common as cell phones, but I guarantee they’ll number in the hundreds of millions. And when they do, when the secret of the Oscar raid has leaked to every corner of the world as it is certain to do, every major global player, and every power-mad psychopath, will be looking to recreate the path through the brain that triggered Nick’s abilities. They’ll be going through subjects, voluntary or otherwise, like so much cordwood. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised to find high schoolers experimenting on their friends. The prospect of perfect ESP is too alluring, and no government can afford to lose this arms race.”
Girdler paused. “Nick told me about Marc Fisher on the drive here. With implants on every street corner, to what extremes will the Fishers of the world be willing to go to solve this? Knowing a solution would quickly gain them unlimited power. And after Nick went missing, this increased my concern even more, since some group might be in position to do a thorough study of him, in addition to
eventually having access to any number of implant sets.”
“You still haven’t told us anything new,” said Megan. “These were always your fears. So now you’re just telling us your fears grew even greater. As Alex has already said, so what?”
“Exactly,” said Altschuler. “I could see you making these arguments to try to justify your actions if you had put the implants out of commission. Not that any of us would find them persuasive. But putting the implants out of commission isn’t what you did. You gave them to our greatest enemies.”
“So is that everything?” said Campbell. “You were worried, and then you became very, very worried? You’re going to need to do a hell of a lot better than that to even begin to justify your actions.”
Girdler sighed. “I really was getting there. I just was hoping to build the case, brick by brick, even if you’re familiar with some of the early bricks. But I can see I need to cut to the chase. My job is to think things through from every possible angle, leaving no stone unturned. As I did this with respect to BrainWeb, I came to concerns that I’ve never voiced to anyone. Not even to the people in this room. We all know the privacy argument. The implants can convert video to vision and vision to video. Same with hearing and audio. So anything you hear or see can be recorded and stored in the cloud. So humor me, what’s the biggest fear about this scenario?”
Megan rolled her eyes. “That an implant recipient can abuse this,” she recited in bored tones. “Can invade the privacy of those he or she is near. Post videos and information about others to the Web, without their consent.”
“That’s the common wisdom,” said Girdler. “And this was my view until recently as well. But then I realized that this misses the point entirely. We’ve been worried about someone hacking the implants,” he continued. “But what if someone hacked the cloud? After all, given Alex’s security, this is a hell of a lot easier than hacking the implants. The cloud in this context is just massive storage in the Web. A locker you buy or someone gives you that you can beam data into. The cloud doesn’t belong to one source or one company. It’s just capacity, data storage, be it from Dropbox, or Carbonite, or Amazon, or hundreds of other providers.”
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