Wired

by Douglas E. Richards

  Desh paid for the sundaes and they cautiously returned to the main mall. He scanned their surroundings for several minutes but didn’t detect anything out of place.

  Desh gave Kira a questioning look as they made their way across the mall. “So why me, Kira?” he asked simply.

  She sighed. “I already told you. You’re a good man. And when the chips are down, you’ll do the right thing. You’re an expert at finding people. You have Special Forces training. You’re smart and well read. I’ve been trying to find Moriarty and stop him, but I’ve gotten nowhere.”

  Kira reached out and placed her hand in front of Desh, signaling him to stop walking. When he did she looked deeply into his eyes and he sensed she was deciding if she wanted to say more. Finally she lowered her eyes. “And I was lonely,” she said softly. “I’ve been on the run for a very long time. Not trusting anyone. Suspicious of everything.” She paused. “But I can’t stop Moriarty alone. As I studied your history, I realized I needed the help of someone like you; someone I could trust.”

  So she had risked kidnapping him, even though he couldn’t have been more biased against her, to convince him to become her ally. Just as she had told him at the motel. And she had taken an even greater risk by putting herself under his control at the clearing. He still had a few nagging suspicions but he would put them to rest—for now.

  Kira gazed into his eyes hopefully. “Will you help me, David?” she asked.

  Desh held her stare for several seconds and then nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” he said finally. “I will.”

  Kira let out the breath she had been holding. “Thank you,” she whispered earnestly. “And I really am sorry for bringing you into all of this. It was selfish of me.”

  “No it wasn’t,” said Desh firmly. The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. “And you didn’t bring me into anything. I was hired by Colonel Jim Connelly to find and stop a psychopathic killer who was off the grid, and that’s still what I’m doing.”

  Kira’s features hardened. “I’m going to stop this bastard if it’s the last thing I do,” she vowed through clenched teeth, her face now a mask of hatred. “I swear on my brother’s soul that I’ll get him. A tragic accident took my parents from me, but Moriarty murdered the only other person I really ever loved; my only remaining family.”

  A deadly gleam came to her eye. “And someday—soon—he’s going to pay for that.”

  30

  They exited the bus in downtown Richmond and took a cab to a used car lot. There they paid cash for a aging pick-up truck.

  Griffin had called while they were on the bus and he and Connelly were doing well, despite the fact, as Griffin had put it, that being forced to shave his beard had surely “scarred and traumatized him for life.” They had arrived at the house of Connelly’s retired doctor friend without incident and Connelly was getting treatment.

  Desh took the driver’s seat of the used pick-up when the transaction was completed. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Get back on 95 north,” replied Kira. “Let’s go to my place.”

  “You have a place? After all this time on the run?”

  Her eyes danced playfully. “It’s a motor home. I live in a trailer park.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Why do you say that?” she said impishly.

  Desh shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re a brilliant scientist whose discoveries could change the world. You just don’t picture someone like that in an RV.” He smiled broadly. “Albert Einstein living in a trailer park just seems wrong to me.”

  She laughed. “That’s why it’s so perfect. A trailer park is the last place the old me would ever think of living and the last place anyone would think to look. And this way, I can change locations every month or so and still have a sense of home.”

  It was a sound strategy, Desh realized, once you stopped to think about it. “I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve never been to a trailer park.”

  “You’re in for a treat then,” she said. “I have three RVs as a matter of fact. One on the East Coast, one on the West Coast, and one in the heartland. The last two are just safety valves. I paid for a year at the trailer park in advance so they’ll be there for me if I need them.”

  “I can hardly wait to see it,” said Desh, stopping at a red light. “So tell me about your search for Moriarty.”

  “I will. But not now. I’ve been doing all of the talking. It’s your turn.”

  “In my defense, I was too busy doing the mistrusting and glaring for that.”

  “Given what you were told, I can’t blame you,” she said. “But tell me about you. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to know anyone. How did you end up in the military?” She paused. “Or did you feel like you really didn’t have a choice?”

  For just a moment Desh had forgotten that she had made a study of him, but her question reminded him immediately. His father had been a general, a fact that she well knew as evidenced by her question. She certainly hadn’t wasted any time on small talk, although with everything they had been through, he realized, small talk at this point would be a little ridiculous.

  “I had a choice,” he answered. “Definitely. Dad wasn’t like that. He loved being in the military but he wanted me and my brother to do what made us happy. In the end, I joined up, not because he pressured me, but because he set such a good example. He was compassionate and friendly and had a great sense of humor.” Desh paused. “Most people picture military lifers as rigid, inflexible, authoritarian bureaucrats—and many of them are—but not my father.”

  “What did your mother think of it all?”

  “She had a similar philosophy. She wanted us to be happy. She admired my dad, but she made sure we knew the sacrifices we would be making if we joined up. Funny,” he added, “my brother joined up also. Went to Annapolis. I sometimes wonder if either of my folks had put pressure on us if we would have done something else, just to rebel.”

  Desh hadn’t spoken of his father for a long time and his eyes reflected a deep loss.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” said Kira softly.

  He nodded. “If anyone knows about loss, it’s you,” he said. “Did any of my records say how it happened?”

  “No. Just that he died in action.”

  “Which is a misrepresentation,” said Desh dourly. “He was in Pakistan at a weeklong meeting with regional military leaders. He died buying fruit at a market near his hotel. Just another terrorist bombing. Ironic: he had seen a lot of action in his career, but he died off-duty and out of uniform.” His lip curled up in disgust. “They probably wouldn’t have bombed the place if they knew he was a general. They actually prefer killing civilians,” he said bitterly. “Generates more terror that way.”

  Kira sighed supportively. After a few seconds of silence she said, “How’s your brother doing?”

  “He’s doing well. I didn’t get to visit with him very often before I left the service. But since I became a civilian I’ve been seeing more of him.”

  “Do you regret leaving the military?”

  “Honestly, no. I feel a little selfish and maybe a little cowardly; but no. I was ready to leave even before the disaster in Iran. When you’re in the Delta Force you don’t form strong attachments to anyone outside your team—you can’t. Not really. And I didn’t want to go through life that way. I wanted to be a husband and father someday.”

  They drove on in silence for several minutes. “You mentioned Iran,” began Kira hesitantly. “What happened there exactly?”

  “You must have read the after action report.”

  “I skimmed through it,” she acknowledged. “But it was lengthy and I didn’t read it carefully. Besides,” she continued, “If we’re going to be allies, David, the more insight we have into each other, the better. I’d be interested in hearing these events in your own words.”

  Desh shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell,” he lied. He had planned to stop there when it occurred
to him that Kira had bared her soul at the restaurant. Maybe it was his turn. He sighed heavily. “Okay, I’ll give you an abbreviated version.”

  Desh paused and gathered himself. “Intel had finally located the leader of a terror group, Khalid Abdul-Malik. He was responsible for a series of bombings of churches and synagogues around the world, all timed during religious services to maximize casualties. He was headquartered just outside of Sanandaj, on Iran’s western border. We were sent in to capture him if possible, kill him if not. Our insertion was flawless.”

  Desh tilted his head, remembering. “Satellites had picked up Abdul-Malik and some of his key lieutenants on the move, headed toward the nearby town of Mahabad, and we planned an ambush.” He shook his head, a tormented expression on his face. “But we were ambushed instead,” he said sullenly. He fell silent for several long seconds and then added, “They had been expecting us.”

  “You were set up?”

  “No question about it. I have no idea how.” Desh turned away from Kira and kept his gaze focused steadily on the road ahead, bracing himself to continue. “We were all taken prisoners, me and the three other members of my team. Since I was team commander, the terrorists decided to punish me by torturing my men to death in front of me—men who I loved as brothers.” He looked as if he might vomit. “My head was tied in position and my eyes were pried open. I couldn’t turn my head and I couldn’t look away.” He shuddered. “There are tortures beyond the imaginings of the most gifted horror writer,” he whispered.

  There was a long silence as Kira waited for him to continue.

  “I won’t describe what happened next,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t do that to anybody. Suffice it to say they were tortured and then butchered.” Hatred welled up in his eyes. “And these sick bastards enjoyed every minute of it, too.”

  “How did you escape?” asked Kira softly.

  “They had finished with my men,” said Desh, his voice now dead and emotionless. “I was next. There were three guards with me at the time. While one of them was peeing out back, one of them slipped on a pool of blood and fell. A man has only six quarts of blood in his body. Six quarts doesn’t seem like a lot until you’re covered in it, and you see the rest spilled on the ground. Eighteen quarts is hard to imagine.”

  Kira shuddered from the mental picture he had painted.

  “I was tied to a chair,” continued Desh. “But after the guard fell I gave him a face-full of chair-leg. I dove on the other guard, chair and all, to prevent him from using his gun, but he managed to stab me several times with his knife before I was able to head-butt him into unconsciousness. I escaped and eventually made it across the border to Iraq.”

  “I do remember this part,” said Kira. “I read the soldiers who found you in Iraq couldn’t believe you had made it so far in the condition you were in. They were astonished by your stamina and force of will.”

  Desh grimaced. “I should have died with my men,” he whispered. “In the Special Forces, we take the code of leaving no man behind very seriously.” His eyes moistened and he shook his head sadly. “The truth is that my men had been so badly butchered there wasn’t enough left of their bodies to bring back, even if I could have.”

  31

  David Desh accelerated onto the Interstate 95 onramp and merged with highway traffic.

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Kira helplessly.

  “There’s nothing to say. Seems that we’ve both had our share of bad luck and battle scars. When the stakes are high, the penalties can be high,” he said.

  They drove on for several minutes until Kira finally broke the silence, deciding a change in subject was in order. “Look, David,” she said hesitantly, “at the risk of sounding like a drug pusher, I’d like you to take one of my gellcaps.”

  Desh eyed her with interest. “Why?” he said simply.

  “I appreciate you agreeing to become my ally, but we both know you still don’t trust me a hundred percent. How can you? There’s been so much going on and so many complexities to this story that only a fool would fail to harbor at least a little doubt. And you’re anything but a fool. In the recesses of your mind, you still can’t help but wonder if I’m just a great actress and this is all some kind of diabolical plan of mine.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I won’t deny it. But the doubt has shrunk from a hundred percent to about five percent, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “It does. But taking a gellcap will eliminate any remaining reservations. Sure, you might believe intellectually that I’ve succeeded in radically transforming the human brain, but for you to really trust that all of this is real, you have to experience it for yourself. I could tell you more about what it’s like, but until you’ve experienced it yourself no description I could offer could do it justice. Once you’ve been enhanced you’ll know that everything I’ve told you is true. Down to the last detail.”

  Desh pursed his lips. “I don’t know, Kira,” he said reluctantly. “I’m not sure I like the idea of altering the architecture of my brain.”

  “After everything I told you, I don’t blame you. But I promise the effect will only last about an hour. After that, you’ll be the exact same David Desh as always.”

  “Yeah? How can you be so sure?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. “I guess I can’t be. Not absolutely. I know that you won’t feel any different. And the people I interacted with afterwards never noticed any changes in me—at least none I’m aware of.”

  “What about the sociopathy?”

  “As I mentioned, that effect builds. The first time you’re enhanced it’s like you’re Alice in Wonderland, too awestruck to have many ruthless thoughts. Repeated exposure further numbs the emotions and increases your feelings of omnipotence.”

  “And then—what?—you graduate from Alice to Frodo to Darth?” he said wryly.

  She frowned. “I use too many silly literary metaphors, don’t I?”

  Desh couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all,” he said reassuringly. “And I’m the one who came up with Moriarty. So maybe we’re two peas in a pod.”

  Kira caught his eye and sighed deeply. “It would really mean a lot to me, David. You have to experience it to truly understand it.”

  Desh returned her gaze briefly and then shifted his eyes back to the road as he considered her request. “Okay,” he said finally, still with some reluctance. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks David,” she said in relief. “This will erase any lingering doubts. I promise. And it will also surpass your wildest expectations.” Her right hand went to her neck and located a silver chain that had been hidden by her clothing. She lifted, pulling the chain up until a silver locket emerged from under her sweatshirt. The locket was heart-shaped and about the circumference of a quarter. She repositioning the necklace so it and the locket were now on the outside of her jacket.

  “I just happen to have a dose on hand,” she announced.

  “There’s a gellcap inside that locket?” he said in disbelief.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I don’t know, Kira,” said Desh, rolling his eyes. “Wearing the One Ring of Power around your neck in pill form? Maybe you are taking this Frodo thing a bit far.”

  Kira grinned. “Okay,” she said, amused. “I admit I’m a bit of a geek.” She became serious once more. “The truth is that it’s a symbolic gesture that strengthens my resolve to never enhance myself again. I want to stop Moriarty, not become him. Having a dose around my neck reminds me of the danger of giving in to the lure of power.”

  “You played a lot of Dungeons And Dragons as a kid, didn’t you?” said Desh wryly.

  A playful smile lit up her face. “All right,” she said. “I can’t deny that it’s corny. But it really has helped. And, just for the record, I’ve never played Dungeons And Dragons in my life.” She paused and motioned toward the locket. “Are you ready?”

  Desh frowned. “Right now?”

&nb
sp; “Why not?”

  “I’ll do it, but let’s hold off. I’d rather not be in a car when I take it, and I’d love to have a good night’s sleep as well. How about if I try it in the morning?”

  Kira nodded. “Whenever you feel up to it. I guess I’m just anxious to develop that deeper level of trust. Besides,” she added, “I’ve never been able to compare notes with anyone.”

  As they drove they continued a lively conversation. Now that they were allies, Desh found he had an easy rapport with her. About seventy-five minutes into the drive, Kira called a stop for what she called a biological break.

  Desh exited the highway and drove into a small gas station with only two pumps and without the ubiquitous mini-store. He pulled up to the pump closest to a small brick structure that contained bathrooms. He exited the pick-up and began to top off the tank while Kira got the restroom key from the attendant.

  Kira had just returned the key and was crossing Desh’s path as he hung up the nozzle, on her way back to the passenger seat, when Desh’s heart leaped to his throat.

  Chopper blades! Again!

  Before Desh could move or call out a warning, Kira collapsed to the ground in front of him, a small dart protruding from her neck.

  Desh had already evaluated their current location and knew there was nowhere to run or hide. The chopper was coming closer and he only had an instant to act.

  He threw himself to the ground next to Kira to buy himself an additional few seconds while his mind churned furiously. He realized in desperation he had only one option. Reaching out, he clutched the chain around Kira’s neck and yanked as hard as he could. The chain snapped and the locket slid to the pavement. Desh tossed the chain as far away from them as he could and snatched the free locket, hurriedly shoving it into his mouth. He used his tongue to push the small, silver heart into the back of his mouth; shoving its point into his cheek to lodge it snugly between his teeth and gums, like a chaw of tobacco, hoping it was too small to cause a visible bulge.

  His tongue was still pressed against the locket when he felt a sharp sting in his own neck and he drifted off into a dreamless oblivion.