Brainrush 03 - Beyond Judgment

by Bard, Richard

  Jake and Lacey leaned forward in their chairs.

  Gunshots in Jake’s earbud jolted his senses. The fog in his mind cleared for a moment.

  That’s when he noticed the metallic container that Victor cradled on the desk.

  Chapter 25

  Swiss Alps

  TONY FLICKED ON his under-barrel tactical light and swept its beam around the shed. The floor was paved. Skis, poles, and snowshoes lined the back wall. There was foul-weather clothing on pegs. Shelves were stacked neatly with helmets, climbing gear, and flashlights. A treaded Sno-Cat was parked in the center.

  An interior roll-up door was open. It led to a larger garage. They wound their way through a dozen or more snowmobiles and exited into an eight-foot-wide tunnel that had been carved out of the rock. The symmetry and smooth-cut walls suggested that it had been machine-drilled. Tony figured it had been added in the last century as part of the gondola installation. Thick conduit hugged the ceiling, and fluorescent lighting hung overhead. The air felt crisp and ventilated. Voices echoed around the corner to their left.

  “That’s the gondola station,” Marshall whispered, studying the image on his screen. He pointed in the opposite direction. “This way.”

  They moved swiftly, the rubber soles of their boots muffling their footfalls. Around the next corner, Marshall pointed down a narrow offshoot to the right.

  “Not far,” he said.

  The tunnel narrowed, and the ceiling height dropped sharply. Tony had to duck his head to clear it. The air was suddenly dank and musty. There was no lighting. Tony’s tac light bounced off ragged walls of rock. Not machine-made, he thought. Ten paces later, the passage widened to an oblong chamber that stretched thirty feet ahead. A score of child-size spaces lined the perimeter of the room. Tony shone his light in the first one. It was only six feet deep.

  Prison cells, Tony thought with a chill. Where iron gates once existed, only a scatter of rust-colored granite remained. “I gotta bad feelin’ about this,” he said. He swept his rifle back the way they had come.

  It plunged the room into darkness.

  “Wait a minute,” Marshall said. “There’s a light up ahead.”

  Tony swung the weapon’s light back around. The distant flicker faded beneath the intensity of the beam.

  “Douse it a sec,” Marshall said.

  Tony clicked off the light. They both saw it. A faint glow from one of the cells. Marshall held the smartphone in front of him. The blinking signal corresponded with the position of the light up ahead. They shuffled to the opening and looked inside. There was a small lantern in the far corner.

  The cardboard box beside it was about six inches square.

  “Bingo,” Marshall whispered.

  He crab-walked into the cramped cell, grabbed the box, and crawled back out.

  Tony illuminated the box with the flashlight. Marshall unfolded the top flaps. They peered inside.

  A tiny pile of black shavings was all they found.

  “Oh, crap,” Marshall said.

  “What is it?”

  “The party’s over, dude!” Marshall said too loud. “We need to be out of here now!”

  “Marsh!” Tony growled under his breath. He grabbed his buddy’s shoulder and gripped him hard. “Settle down. Talk to me.”

  Marshall had a thousand-yard stare that told Tony that he hadn’t heard a word. But whatever had crossed his mind had sobered up his buddy faster than an oncoming freight train. Marshall’s eyes widened. He keyed his mike. His voice was calm but authoritative. “Lace, it’s time for you and Jake to leave. Don’t linger. Do it now.”

  When he unkeyed the mike, all the breath went out of him. “It’s a trap,” he gasped. “They scraped the RFID coating off the mini to draw us in. They knew we were coming!”

  Tony didn’t hesitate. He reached into his jacket and came out with a 9mm Glock. “Dump the tranq gun,” he ordered, handing the Glock to his friend. “Follow me.”

  They ran toward the corridor.

  Tony skidded into the main tunnel and ran toward the exit. Marshall was right behind him. There were multiple footsteps around the corner behind them. Moving fast. Tony moved faster. If they could make it to the garage, they could bar the door.

  He reached for the door handle just as another guard rushed into the corridor ten paces in front of them. He’d come from the gondola station. The man raised an assault rifle. Tony reacted instinctively, lunging to shove Marshall from the line of fire. Marshall tumbled to the floor just as the weapon’s barrel flashed. Rounds ricocheted in the narrow space. The blast from the weapon reverberated off the walls. Tony swung the MP5 on the target. He squeezed the trigger. The suppressed weapon chattered, and the guard flew backward.

  The trailing group took cover behind the bend in the corridor. “Feuer einstellen!” one of them shouted.

  Tony understood the cease fire command.

  There was a terse response from someone in the gondola room. Then more words behind them. The two teams were coordinating their efforts over their radios.

  Tony grabbed the strap on Marshall’s climbing harness and hauled his stunned friend to his feet. “Let’s go!” he said. He opened the door to the snowmobile garage and bolted inside.

  The click of the door’s electronic lock was the first sign that they’d made a mistake.

  That the internal roll-up door was closed was the second sign.

  Strike three came in the form of a voice over the intercom: “Drop your weapons or the woman dies.”

  Chapter 26

  Swiss Alps

  JAKE FELT GIDDY. It seemed as though Lacey felt the same. Her eyes fluttered and her smile was soft. Her head leaned into the wing of the high-backed chair beside him. The tea had been very good, Jake thought.

  Victor sat across from him at his desk. His voice was soothing. The man was a generous host. And he really wanted Jake to see what was in the metal box on his desk.

  Why not?

  Victor’s attention was drawn over Jake’s shoulder. Jake followed his glance and saw two men standing inside the doorway. They wore crew cuts and coveralls. Their hands were clasped behind their back. Jake suspected they were friendly, too. He wished they’d brought more tea with them.

  Han stepped forward and rested a hand on the back of Jake’s chair.

  “Alles ist in ordnung,” he said to Victor.

  “Wonderful!” Victor said.

  Jake hoped they were referring to food. He was getting hungry.

  “Now then, Mr. Bronson. Shall we take a look?”

  “Sure.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk.

  The box was eight inches square. The metallic surface shimmered under the desk lamp. Four latches secured the lid. Victor used two hands to slide it forward.

  Jake grinned in anticipation. He reached out and pulled it closer. “Whoa,” he said as he felt its weight. “Is this thing filled with gold?”

  “Better,” Victor said. “Go ahead. See for yourself.”

  Jake unsnapped the latches. He cradled the heavy lid and hefted it upward.

  The instant the seal was broken, Jake felt a surge of energy. It was numbed by the drug coursing through his veins, but not enough to keep his head from clearing. His mind snapped to attention, and he suddenly remembered why he was here—his friends were down below, and Marshall had issued a warning that they should leave immediately. Victor had played them.

  “Schifoso,” Jake said.

  Victor grinned.

  Jake’s rage boiled over. He started to rise, but Hans’s thick hands pressed down on his shoulders, pinning him to the chair. Jake swiveled and launched the lead-lined lid of the box into the man’s shin. The giant yelped. His leg folded. Jake shoved his chair backward, and the man toppled over. Jake kept moving, barreling into the first guard and launching him into the wall. The man’s head impacted the bookcase with a thunk. He slumped to the carpet. Jake ducked a blow from the remaining guard and responded with a palm strike to the ma
n’s chin. Teeth crunched. Jake finished him with a vicious chop to the throat.

  When he turned, Hans was on him. The big man’s eyes were cold steel. He lifted Jake from his feet and hurled him back into the room. Jake shielded his face with his arms, barely missing Lacey’s chair as he crashed into the front of the desk. A computer display went flying, and Victor’s tablet toppled to the floor. The shielded container landed on top of it, crushing the screen and activating a new image on the video wall.

  The mini tumbled across the carpet.

  The shock of the impact with the desk stole the wind from Jake’s lungs. He pushed himself to all fours and gasped for air. When he looked up, Hans’s hulking frame was backdropped by a wall-to-wall aerial video of a lush, twin-peaked volcanic island. It was as if the man were suspended in midair. The sight brought on a wave of vertigo. The drug in Jake’s system made it worse.

  Jake shook his head and focused on the man’s feet. He was glad to see they were still firmly planted on the carpet. He coiled his muscles for the tackle, but movement to his right stalled the effort. Victor had picked up the mini. He placed it in the lead case and closed the lid.

  Jake’s world clouded over.

  “Excellent,” Victor said.

  Chapter 27

  Swiss Alps

  THE START-UP WHIR of the props brought Jake back to his senses. He was upright on a bench seat in the passenger section of a plush helicopter. Hans sat beside him, and Victor occupied the seat across from him. A stern-faced guard climbed into the cabin and sat next to his boss. He cradled the shielded metal box on his lap. The ground crew closed and latched the door, and the heavy throb from the overhead blades was muted to a rumble. Snow swirled around them as the props came up to speed.

  Victor and Hans each wore a headset. Victor pointed to a third set dangling beside Jake’s seat. Jake donned it. It felt comfortable, and he recalled that his friends had told him he’d been a pilot in his previous life.

  “Mr. Bronson,” Victor said. His voice came across loud and clear through the noise-canceling headphones. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. You gave us quite a scare back there.”

  Jake felt woozy. His head ached, and a sharp pain throbbed in his shoulder. He blinked several times as he struggled to recall what had happened. He remembered having tea by the fire. Lacey had been with him. Everything was a blur after that.

  “It was as if the mini took control of you,” Victor said.

  The mini! Jake thought. That’s why they’d come here. To find it. So he could restore his memory. He glanced at the metallic box in the guard’s lap.

  “I—I remember getting dizzy.”

  “More than that!” Victor said. “You opened the container and your eyes went wild. You toppled forward like a felled tree. Hans tried to catch you, but you dropped the lead case on the poor man’s foot and he missed. You cracked your head on the corner of the desk.”

  Victor’s words helped the puzzle pieces fall into place. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it felt right.

  “It’s obvious that you have an intense connection with the object,” Victor added. His voice was smooth as silk. “And I believe you and your friends are right.”

  My friends? Jake thought. “About what?”

  “About restoring your memory. I think it can work. We simply need a more controlled environment, that’s all. That’s why we’re going to Geneva. Remember?”

  Jake didn’t remember.

  “Where are my friends?”

  “They’re worried about you. Sorry there wasn’t room for them in here. But it’s only a two-hour drive. They’ll be following by car.” He pointed out the window. “There they are now.”

  Jake saw Lacey, Tony, and Marshall walking toward the snow-covered SUVs at the far end of the courtyard. Several of Victor’s men accompanied them.

  “Hans,” Victor said. “Please let them know we’re watching.”

  Hans swiveled the mouthpiece of his headset to one side. Then he placed a finger to a point under his ear and said something. The action sent a chill through Jake. He flashed on the men in Focette communicating the same way. Those men had tried to kill him.

  A coincidence?

  Jake couldn’t hear what Hans said over the prop noise, but the group by the SUVs paused. There was an interchange between them. Then Lacey, Marshall, and Tony turned and waved.

  Jake sighed. They were okay.

  False alarm.

  He waved back.

  Victor leaned forward. “Mr. Bronson, restoring your memory is as important to me as it is to you. You have my word that I will do everything in my power to make it happen.” He reached out and offered his hand.

  Jake shook it. The man couldn’t have been more sincere, he thought. He felt lucky to have his help.

  Everything’s going to be okay.

  Victor was pleased with himself. The hypnosis drug coursing through the American’s system worked wonderfully. Very few could resist its charms, he thought. The suggestions he’d planted in Bronson’s memory had taken root. As long as he kept them well watered, the deception would continue. Using the restoration of Jake’s memories as the key motivation had been Hans’s idea, garnered after he’d overheard the American captives speaking about it. It was brilliant.

  The helicopter lifted off. As it banked west toward Geneva, Victor saw a pillar of smoke rising from beneath a copse of trees. He smiled. His men had located the Americans’ second vehicle.

  Yes, he thought, sitting back in his chair. It was all coming together nicely.

  All that remained was to tie up a few loose ends.

  Chapter 28

  Swiss Alps

  TONY GRIMACED WHEN he saw the trail of black smoke rising from the location where Timmy had parked the van. The kid had gone silent on their comm net since Tony and Marshall had been nabbed an hour ago. Now Tony knew why. Timmy wouldn’t have stood a chance against Victor’s thugs.

  The helicopter disappeared from view. “Show’s over,” the guard said in guttural English. It was Pit Bull. He had a lump on his forehead the size of a golf ball. A Band-Aid hid the puncture wound from the hypo Tony had shot into him. He jabbed his pistol into the small of Tony’s back. “Move it.”

  The remaining guards pulled out the weapons they’d hidden during the charade. They corralled Tony and his friends and escorted them back to the castle.

  Ten minutes later Marshall said, “We’re in some deep shit this time.”

  “Could be worse,” Tony said.

  “Yeah? How’d you figure?” After a beat he added, “I mean, other than being dead.”

  “They coulda crammed us in those tiny cells in the dungeons.”

  Marshall’s shiver was real. He rattled his head as if trying to shake off an encounter with a ghost.

  They were in a ten-by-ten storage room within the gondola station. Other than a few slivers of wood on the concrete floor, the space was empty. A cluster of new halogens on the ceiling suggested something important had been stored here. The temperature had continued to drop as a new storm front moved in, and they’d been allowed to keep their coats. Tony had taken that as a sign that the guards wanted to keep them alive. At least for a while.

  “Quiet down, you two,” Lacey said. “I’m trying to listen.” She had her ear pressed up against the steel door. There were faint voices from the other side.

  “Lacey,” Tony said gently. “Remember, you don’t speak German?” The drug from the tea she’d drunk had worn off for the most part, but Tony was still worried about her.

  She shook her head. “No. But I can interpret inflection and tone well enough. The guys on the other side sound pretty relaxed.”

  “Why shouldn’t they be?” Marshall said. “They’ve got Jake. We’re locked in a room surrounded by granite and steel. And once they receive the order, all they’ve gotta do is heave us over the cliff. It’ll look like a climbing accident.”

  “If that’s the case,” Tony said, “then they’ve got another thing comin�
��.” He clenched his fists. “Because a few of them will be going down with us. I can promise you that.”

  The trio grew silent at the prospect. Tony cracked his knuckles, Marshall paced, and Lacey listened at the door. None of them had spoken of Timmy. It was too painful.

  They’d all seen the smoke.

  “Hey,” Lacey whispered urgently. “There’s something happening.”

  They pressed their ears against the door. Shouts echoed from the adjoining chamber. They were followed by a rush of fading footfalls. Then all they heard was the swirl of wind from the growing storm.

  “I think they’re gone,” Lacey whispered.

  “What do you think happened?” Marshall asked.

  “Shhh,” Lacey said.

  There was a shuffle outside the door. A moment later, the electronic lock disengaged. All three of them jumped back. Tony braced himself for the worst. He took three rapid breaths, tensed his muscles, and prepared to charge.

  The door swung open.

  The sight took his breath away.

  “Timmy!” Lacey said. She rushed forward and threw her arms around the scientist. He wore a climbing harness around his waist and thighs. “You’re alive!”

  Timmy blushed. “I had to stay alive. Tony told me I was the only backup.”

  Tony and Marshall patted the kid on the shoulder so hard he nearly fell over.

  “Dude, am I glad to see you,” Marshall said.

  “I was scared shitless on that cliff face,” Timmy said. “I can’t even believe you do that for fun.”

  “Let’s get the hell outta here,” Tony said. He moved toward the exit.

  “Hold on,” Timmy said, checking his watch. “We can’t leave for another sixty seconds.”

  Tony didn’t want to wait, but the kid had just infiltrated a fortified position entirely on his own. He had to trust him. “So what the hell happened, anyway?” he asked as they counted down the seconds.

  Night had fallen, the wind howled, and snow sprayed into the cavernous space. Timmy moved to the gondola control station while he explained. “I knew something was wrong when I couldn’t reach anyone at San Michelle.”