Wired

by Douglas E. Richards

  Desh knew that if Kira was to be believed, she was far from eager to undertake any further transformations. In fact, she claimed to be horrified by what her treatment was doing to her and determined to never transform herself again. Whether this was true or not remained to be seen.

  They drove on for several minutes as Desh tried to get his mind around the immense implications of what he had been told. Finally, he broke the silence. “Now I understand why you had the colonel make sure I didn’t go after her once I found her. And why your men were using tranquilizer darts. You can’t risk harming the only being in existence who knows the location of the fountain of youth.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And if I did catch her, you were worried that she’d hypnotize me with her charm or bribe me. That’s what you were getting at when you asked if she had offered me anything. You wanted to know if she tried to buy me off with promises of extended life.”

  “Yes. She would have had to convince you it really worked, have you talk to some of her other, ah … clients, that sort of thing, but I did wonder if she had at least raised the prospect.”

  “She didn’t say a single word about it.”

  “I believe you. Perhaps she would have if we hadn’t intervened.” He paused and then sighed heavily. “But you see what we’re up against. How can you trust anyone when she can offer them the keys to the fountain of youth?”

  “Which is why you didn’t share the entire truth with Colonel Connelly,” said Desh knowingly. “And why you kept me under surveillance.”

  “Exactly. I don’t trust anyone where Kira Miller is concerned. If you ignored Connelly’s instructions and captured her, she could offer you the ultimate bribe to gain her freedom. At that point there is no guarantee that you would follow through and call us in. We didn’t want to leave that to your discretion.”

  That could well have been her plan, Desh realized. She had told him her goal was to recruit him to her side, perhaps their discussion was prelude to her revealing what she considered the ultimate recruiting tool.

  “I can’t be bought,” said Desh firmly. “Even with extended life.”

  Smith nodded. “Again, I believe you. Your military records show that you are a man of impeccable integrity, Mr. Desh. But even so, any man who says he wouldn’t be at least a tiny bit tempted to drink from the fountain is a liar.”

  “Including you?”

  “Including me,” acknowledged Smith.

  Desh pursed his lips in thought. Smith had referred to his military records and said they spoke to his integrity. But Kira had claimed to have made a thorough study of him, including these records. If this was true, she would have known how highly he valued his integrity. In fact, she had said that this trait, among others, was the reason she wanted to recruit him in the first place. But if this were the case, she would have known any attempt at a bribe, regardless of the lure, would have failed. So maybe this hadn’t been her plan, after all.

  Smith had cleared up some questions but many more remained.

  “So what about the terrorist connection and Ebola plot,” said Desh. “Is this just a fabrication? Did you invent it to get everyone hunting for her?”

  “I wish this were the case,” said Smith gravely. He yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid a grisly mass of fur and blood the headlights had suddenly revealed ahead of them. “But I’m afraid it’s very real,” he continued a few seconds later, the car steady once again as the unrecognizable road-kill receded behind them. “And with her abilities you can be sure the attack will succeed.”

  Desh looked confused. “But why would she work with terrorists?” he asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. What can she gain from a bio-weapons attack? She has all the money and power she could want.”

  “You would think,” agreed Smith. “But apparently not. We don’t know what her angle is on the Ebola plot. But rest assured, whatever it is, it moves her agenda forward. She’s a far better chess player than we are. Just because we can’t understand one of her moves doesn’t mean it’s random.” He shrugged. “Maybe she plans on blackmailing the government to call off the attack in the eleventh hour. Maybe she wants to get in bed with powerful people on both sides of the war on terror for her own ends. We don’t know. All we know is that the threat is very real and she’s behind it. Stopping this attack is still the primary purpose of the Op, regardless of any other reason we have for wanting her.”

  Desh shook his head irritably. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” he snapped. “Getting the secret of extended life is the primary purpose of the Op.” Before Smith could respond he added, “Suppose I had her in my sights, and I knew for certain that killing her would end the bioterror threat. Would you have me pull the trigger?”

  “It’s not as easy as that,” replied Smith. “We need to know what she knows about the Ebola plot. Taking her alive could well be the only way to stop it.”

  “You’re ducking the question. I asked a hypothetical. Would you support killing her if you knew, with certainty, that this would end the threat? Suppose, even, it was the only way to end the threat.” He stared intently at the wiry driver. “Well?”

  Smith hesitated. “It still isn’t that simple. If you killed her, you might stop the murder of several million people, but at the expense of extended life for all of humankind now and in future generations. Where do you draw the line? Would you save two million people from dying an average of thirty years sooner than otherwise, even if you knew it was at the cost of preventing more than six billion people, in this generation alone, from living longer? Say an average of seventy years longer?”

  “I see,” said Desh in disgust. “So it’s just a tradeoff. An easily solved mathematical calculation.”

  “Not necessarily. But there are important considerations that need to be made. Who’s to say that humanity will ever have this chance again?”

  “So if two million people have to be sacrificed for the greater good, so be it?”

  “Look, the point is we’re talking about a hypothetical here. It’s unlikely that killing her will stop the bioterror threat. In fact, it’s more likely that killing her before she can be interrogated will end any chance we’ll ever have of stopping it. So no tradeoff needs to be made. Capturing her alive is critical to stopping the Ebola threat and to getting the secret of life extension.”

  “Maybe,” said Desh dubiously. “But I doubt it. She’s the only one capable of perfecting the virus they’re planning to use. Unless it’s ready to go, everything I know tells me that killing her will end the threat. But regardless of whether you believe that or not, just do me the favor of not pretending this is mostly about bioterror.”

  Smith frowned. “Even if I conceded your point, how does this change anything? Kira Miller is still out there somewhere, and we have to find her.” He paused and then added pointedly, “And you could be the key. She took a huge risk capturing you. The question is … why?”

  “I don’t have any idea.”

  “Another move that doesn’t make any sense,” said Smith in frustration. “If all she wanted was muscle, she could have as much as she needed at any time. You’re not wealthy or highly-placed. As good as you are, with her brilliance and resources and unknown benefactors, you had very little chance of finding her. Given everything we know, you don’t merit even becoming a pawn in her chess game, let alone a piece of higher value. But the risk she took was uncharacteristic, so we must be missing something.”

  “I’m just as mystified as you are.”

  “I doubt we’ll ever figure it out,” said Smith. “Her enhanced mind can work on a plane that we can’t come close to reaching. The question is,” he added pointedly, “are you still important to her for some reason?”

  “Why do I suddenly feel like a worm right before the fisherman sticks it on a hook?”

  “Look, Mr. Desh, you represent an unprecedented opportunity to finally get a handle on this woman. We have to seize this chance. Will you help us?”

>   Desh considered. There was still something about Smith that he didn’t quite trust. His gut told him there was far more to this story. But regardless of Smith’s ultimate motivations, there was no question Kira Miller had to be stopped. And Desh knew that, alone, he was overmatched. And even if he refused to help further, this wouldn’t stop Kira from coming after him again if she was intent on doing so.

  Desh frowned deeply and then nodded. “Okay … Smith. I’ll help you.” He waited until Smith turned from the road to glance at him and then locked onto his eyes with a laser-like intensity. “But this time we’re going to do it my way.”

  20

  The darkness was beginning to gradually give way to the coming dawn, and tiny flecks of water appeared on the windshield as the early morning drizzle that had been forecast arrived on schedule. In another month this same precipitation would result in snow flurries. Smith set the wipers to a ten second delay between strokes and waited for Desh to spell out his terms, the silence of the twilight drive broken only by the intermittent squeaking of the wiper blades.

  “Pull off here,” instructed Desh, pointing.

  Smith raised his eyebrows. “A shortcut to your apartment?” he asked.

  “No. It makes more sense for you to drop me at Griffin’s apartment. I need to retrieve my clothes and watch,” he explained. “Not to mention my SUV.”

  Smith said nothing but exited the highway as instructed, decelerating rapidly to a stop at the end of the long off-ramp. He glanced at the gas gauge and proposed they stop for fuel. Less than a minute later they pulled into a nearby gas station. While Smith began to fill the tank the gnawing in Desh’s stomach reminded him just how hungry and thirsty he had become. He also realized that he didn’t have his wallet with him and was forced to borrow ten dollars from the Black Ops officer, feeling slightly foolish.

  Desh entered the store’s mini-mart and pulled a 32-ounce bottle of water from the cooler and an orange juice for Smith, and then tore two bananas from a fresh bunch near the register, both for himself, and walked to the counter. The entire time he watched Smith attentively through the transparent storefront to make sure he didn’t open the trunk and try to regain access to his weapons. He and Desh appeared to be on the same side, but that didn’t mean Desh was prepared to trust him. Whatever was going on, and whoever could be believed, the stakes were very, very high, and he was determined to err on the side of paranoia.

  A number of nagging questions still gnawed at him. If Kira Miller really did have some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world in her pocket as Smith suggested, then why hadn’t she had them use their influence to call off the manhunt? And how was it that she wasn’t better protected? The beneficiaries of her therapy would have an enormous vested interest in her welfare and survival. If she died, so did their longevity. Even if she had refused bodyguards, they would have activated armies of guardian angels, staying in the shadows but ensuring that the Smiths of the world didn’t get nearly as close to her as they had at the motel.

  There was far more going on than Desh understood. He was convinced he was fumbling in the dark, feeling the elephant’s trunk and being persuaded it was a snake. He needed to go back to basic principles. If he believed Kira Miller really had been able to optimize her intelligence, it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe she had also successfully developed a longevity therapy. And if this were the case, than all bets were truly off. Smith portrayed himself as being on the side of the angels, and maybe this had largely been true in the past. But what about now, in this situation? What would Smith do if he really did have Kira in his grasp? And what about the people above him? Could Desh trust this group to do the right thing once they had her? Would they simply pry the secret from her and give it to the world? It would take but a single weak link for her to bribe herself to freedom or for someone to take her place. She was the key to unlimited power, and if only a single corrupt person was in the loop, he could obtain her secrets for himself, kill her, and disappear; potentially becoming even a bigger monster than she had been.

  Desh believed that dangerous character traits such as megalomania, sadism, and sociopathy tended to be enriched in populations of people who had risen to positions of power and influence. This enrichment was even more pronounced at the top of organizations such as the CIA and the military, to which people with these pathologies tended to gravitate preferentially. This was especially true of Black Operations divisions, which existed in the shadows and had little accountability. Not that there weren’t plenty of good men high up in the chain of command of these organizations with a passion for serving their country and doing what they thought was right. But all it took was one bad apple at or near the top, and Desh was convinced that with a lure this seductive the odds that one existed were almost a hundred percent. So even if Smith was a saint, turning Kira over to him and his agency could be a disaster.

  As Desh walked slowly back to the car, completely oblivious to the drizzle hitting his face, he was hit by a stark realization. If he really believed his own logic, there was only one way he could be absolutely certain the longevity therapy would be unveiled for the benefit all the people of the world: if he did so himself. It was a troubling thought. He had no wish to take matters into his own hands, but unless he could find a flaw in his logic it was a prospect he could not ignore.

  A few minutes later they were back on the road. Smith took a sip of orange juice and turned to his passenger. “All right,” he said. “We’re refueled and I’ll have you at Griffin’s in less than an hour. So what do you want?” he asked bluntly.

  Desh slowly chewed and swallowed a large piece of banana, organizing his thoughts. “First of all,” he began. “I’m in charge. You and your men take orders from me.” He scanned Smith’s face with keen interest, watching for his reaction.

  “Go on,” said Smith noncommittally, sliding back the center console to reveal two cup holders and shoving his plastic orange juice container into the one nearest him.

  “Secondly, kill the listening and homing devices immediately. The only thing these devices and your surveillance will accomplish is guarantee Kira Miller never tries to contact me again.”

  “They didn’t stop her the first time,” noted Smith.

  Desh shook his head. “I know how she thinks,” he said firmly. “The reports all say she’s brilliant. And she is. But I know she’s also something far more dangerous: she’s savvy. And she doesn’t make mistakes. She knows you’ll try to use me to get to her and she’ll be more careful than ever.”

  “We can track you in a way she can’t detect.”

  “Really?” said Desh skeptically. “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you. You’re underestimating her. Trust me, she’d smell you if you were in the next galaxy. I don’t think she’ll come within a thousand miles of me now, knowing that I’m bait. But if she does and then catches your scent, she’ll bolt and we’ll never have another chance.” He stared at Smith with an unwavering intensity. “I want your guarantee on this.”

  Smith paused in thought and then sighed resignedly. “Okay,” he said finally, clearly not happy about it.

  “Good. I’ll continue my efforts to find her as I was tasked to do, since I don’t think she’ll come to me again. And Smith,” he added, “I will call you in when I find her as per the original plan.” He paused. “Just so you know, I also intend to continue working with Griffin. He’s very good at what he does and my gut tells me he’s a good man. It goes without saying that the no surveillance rule goes for Griffin and anyone else I’m working with as well,” he added pointedly.

  “Can he do an effective job for you without having a glimmer of what’s really going on?”

  “I think so, yes,” said Desh. He popped the last piece of his first banana in his mouth, swallowed, and then chased it with a long drink of water.

  “So now let’s turn to point number three,” said Desh. “I have to have full authority to capture her myself. I have the tranquilizer gun I borrowed f
rom your colleague, and I can add other non-lethal weaponry to my arsenal. If I’m wrong and she does come after me again, I won’t pass up the chance to take her down.”

  Smith frowned and looked unconvinced.

  “Trust me,” added Desh. “Your fountain keeper is in good hands. I’ll only act if I think I have to. Otherwise, I’ll call you in. And I won’t use lethal force.”

  “It’s not like I have a choice,” muttered Smith. “If you’re in a position to capture her and I’m not there, you’re going to do whatever the hell you want, regardless of what I agree to.”

  “I will take her alive. And I can’t be bought. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  Smith drained the last of the orange juice as he considered. “Okay,” he said, shoving the empty juice container into the cup holder. “I’ll agree to your conditions.” He eyed Desh intently. “But I have one of my own. My men told me they discovered you had used the cell phone you had, ah … borrowed, to contact Jim Connelly. From now on, I’m your only contact. You agree not to contact Connelly again no matter what happens. We know there’s a mole at USASOC. Calling the colonel plays right into Kira Miller’s hands.”

  “Will you tell him it was you and your men who crashed the party tonight and fill him in on the longevity angle?”

  Smith’s expression turned to one of disbelief, as if Desh had lost his mind. “She’s doubled the span of human life,” he said emphatically. “There’s no greater secret in the world. It’s on a need to know basis. And Connelly still doesn’t need to know.” He frowned and shook his head. “If we don’t keep this under wraps we could have dozens and dozens of factions all warring with each other trying to get their hands on her. You think this Op is a clusterfuck now—” He raised his eyebrows and let the thought hang. “I’ll tell him it was me at the motel, but that’s where I’ll stop.”