by J. D. Robb
“Or never went at all,” Roarke suggested. “Tossed you a red herring.”
“Maybe, yeah, maybe. If she’s had contact with Avril, she knows or will know that this whole thing’s about to go public. What does she do?”
She paced. “She’s got her mission. Most of what she wants is going to come down. But . . .” Case is basically closed, she thought, but was that stopping her from pursuing it, from doing what she could to finish it out herself?
“She’ll try to finish it. Hell, they trained her for this kind of work. They imprinted her to succeed. She’s already gone rogue from her own underground. She’s been in the Center once already that we know of. To kill Icove. But she doesn’t attempt to do anything else there.”
“She’s focused.”
“So far,” Eve agreed. “Icove to Icove to Samuels. Because even if she does get in, compromises their database, their equipment . . . Hell, even if she blows the place up, key members are still around to put it back together. Take out the human factor first, then the system.”
She paced some more. “Don’t take the chance on the government getting the system, covertly continuing the program. I put the clock on her with Nadine. She’s got to move on it tonight.”
She stopped when Feeney came in. He was, if possible, more rumpled than usual.
“I need that tracking.”
“I got the data from Samuels’s records on the type of implant.” He looked at Roarke. “You got anything in here that’ll track an internal?”
“I’ve got a few things we can put together in the computer lab. There’s—”
“Go do that,” Eve interrupted, sensing a compu-geek mode coming on. “I’m going to outline the op.”
“What op?” Feeney wanted to know.
“I’ll catch you up.” Roarke started out with him. “Have you ever worked with an Alpha-5? The XDX version?”
“Only in my dreams.”
“Your dream’s about to come true.”
Eve gave them twenty minutes. It was all she believed they could spare.
“Got her?”
“Got something,” Feeney told her. “It’s being jammed, and it’s weak, but it matches the codes of the implant listed for Diana Rodriguez. We wouldn’t be getting anything, I can tell you, if we weren’t working with the Alpha, ’cause the jam is choice. Might not even get what we got with the Alpha, except the implant’s within a mile of our location.”
“Where?”
“Moving north. West of here. Got that map ready?” he asked Roarke.
“Just coming. And on.”
A city map flashed under the fuzzy blip on-screen. “The Center.” Eve set her jaw. “She’s less than a block from the Center. She’s taking the kid and going in. Feeney, don’t lose her. Contact Whitney. You’re going to have to convince him to let you break Code Blue on communications. Then you’ve got to convince him to get us a warrant and a team. Use the kid. Minor civilian, suspected abduction, imminent jeopardy. With or without, I’m going in. I’m changing to Delta frequency on my communicator. Use it only if you get affirmative.”
She spun to Roarke. “Let’s gear up.”
She yanked on her weapon, strapped on a clutch piece. She opted against body armor as it was too bulky and annoying, but hooked on a combat knife.
When Roarke joined her he wore a knee-length leather coat. She had no idea what sort of weaponry and illegal electronics might be under and/or in it.
She’d leave it to him.
“Some couples,” he said, “go out to a club for an evening.”
Her smile was thin and sharp. “Let’s dance.”
Diana slipped into the Emergency Room. She knew how to look innocent, and better, knew how to move so that she was all but invisible to most adults. She kept her gaze down, away from their faces as she passed by those waiting to be treated, and those who would treat them.
It was late, everyone was tired or angry or hurt. No one wanted to bother with a young girl who appeared to know where she was going.
She knew because she’d heard Deena tell Avril.
She’d known Deena would come for her. And she’d prepared for it. She’d taken only what she was sure she’d need and put it in her backpack. Food she’d squirreled away for emergencies, her journal discs, the laser scalpel she’d stolen from Medical.
They thought they knew everything, but they hadn’t known about the food, the journal, the things she’d stolen over the years.
She was a very good thief.
Deena hadn’t had to explain when she’d climbed in the window. She hadn’t had to tell her to be quiet, to be quick. Diana had simply taken the backpack out of her hiding place and climbed out with her.
There’d been something she’d scented in the air when they’d gone over the wall. Something she’d never scented before. It was freedom.
They’d talked all the way to New York. That was a first time, too. To talk to someone without having to pretend anything.
They would go to Avril’s first. Avril would disengage the security, then Deena would go in and disengage the two police droids. It would be fast, she’d promised. Then she would take her and Avril and their children to a safe location where they would wait until she’d finished what she’d set out to do.
Quiet Birth would be shut down. No one would ever be forced to become again.
She’d watched Deena go into the pretty house, watched her come out again only minutes later. And it was righteous.
The safe house was only minutes away, and that was smart. To hide so close. They could stay there, undetected, until it was safe to go somewhere else.
She pretended to go to bed.
She heard Deena and Avril arguing, in low voices. It would be done, Avril said, all they could expect to be done would be done in a day.
But it wasn’t enough. Deena said it wasn’t enough until she’d killed the root. Until she had, they’d never be free. They’d never be safe. It would never, never stop. She was going tonight, to finish it.
Then she told Avril exactly what she intended to do.
So she waited, and when Deena switched security to yellow to go out the front door, she went out the back.
She’d never been in a city before—that she remembered. Never been completely alone. And it was exhilarating. She had no fear, none. She reveled in the sound of her footsteps on the sidewalk, at the sensation of cool air on her face.
She worked out her route and her movements by treating the whole business like a logic puzzle she was required to solve. If Deena was going to the Center, she was going to the Center.
It wasn’t far. Though she was on foot, she could run well, and run long. And Deena would have to park some distance from the target, then take the last two blocks on foot as well. If she timed it right they’d get there simultaneously, then she could follow Deena through the street-level emergency area.
By the time she was discovered, it would be too late—and too illogical—to take her back.
Simple was usually the most successful.
Because she knew where to look, she spotted Deena quickly. She looked ordinary, everything about her from the light brown hair, the jeans, the hooded jacket. The bag she carried looked like one anybody might carry—just a lightweight shoulder sack.
Simple is successful.
She was waiting, but didn’t wait long. When an emergency vehicle raced up, Deena used someone’s misfortune to slide into the confusion and into the center.
Diana counted to ten and bounded after. But she slowed, cast her gaze down, and moved with what she considered casual purpose once she was inside.
No one bothered her. No one asked what she was doing, and there was another burst of freedom in that.
She cut away toward Ambulatory, then watched from the corner as Deena casually dropped something in a recycler. Deena kept walking, even stopped a harried-looking intern to ask directions. Simple and smart.
When she reached a fork, alarms began to peal. Deena quicken
ed her pace, still not obviously hurrying, and split off to the left. Diana risked a quick look back, saw smoke rolling into the corridor. And for the first time allowed herself a grin.
Deena came to a set of double doors marked STAFF ONLY. She swiped a code card in the slot, and the doors parted. Diana forced herself to wait until they’d started to close, then sprinted forward and nipped inside.
Medical supplies, Diana noted. A lot of them. Some portable diagnostic equipment, secured drug cabinets. Why here? she wondered, then heard the faint swish of a bag being opened. She eased forward, and found herself against the wall with a stunner at her throat.
“Diana!” Deena hissed as she jerked the stunner away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Going with you.”
“You can’t. For God’s sake. Avril must be out of her mind by now.”
“Then we’d better hurry, get done, get back.”
“I have to get you out of here.”
“You’ve come too far to turn back now. Someone might come looking soon.”
“No, they won’t, not where I’m going. And where I’m going, what I’m going to do, you can’t have any part of that. Listen to me.” She took Diana’s shoulders. “There’s nothing more important than your safety, than your freedom.”
“Yes, there is.” Diana’s eyes were clear and dark. “Ending it.”
Alarms were shrilling when Eve strode into the ER. So were a lot of people, she noted. But then, they would. Panic was as natural to some as breathing.
Health care workers, security guards were trying to restore order.
“This will be her work.” Eve badged an ER nurse who barely gave her a glance. “Emergency entrance has to be the weakest point. Add some disorder to the natural disorder an area like this has, and go about your work.” She glanced at Roarke. “Let’s take a page out of her book.”
He looked down at the scanner he’d palmed. “Beacon is a hundred meters northwest. No current movement.”
They followed the trail, came to a dense cloud of smoke.
“Sulphur cube,” Roarke said when Eve cursed at the stench. “Kids tend to make them up. I did myself. Messy, smelly, and harmless.”
Eve sucked in a breath, moved into the stench at a jog. A maintenance worker wearing a safety mask waved her back. She shoved her badge into his visor, then kept going.
“Harmless?” she said on the other side. “How about the hour we’re going to have to spend in fumigation?”
“The fact it reeks to heaven and back is part of the fun.” He coughed, winced. “When you’re twelve. Forty-six meters, east.” He adjusted his earpiece. “We’ve still got her,” he told Feeney on the other end. “Got that. He says the commander’s authorized backup. Feeney’ll be guiding them in using the beacon. As long as he can hold it.”
“Just so it’s long enough. She couldn’t pull this off alone. I don’t care how smart she is. She’s got to be with Deena.”
“Smart timing. Make your sortie not only through the weak spot, but at the weak point in time. Late night, holiday eve. A lot of the sectors would be shut down, skeleton staff. People’s minds are on their holiday plans, or they’re aggravated they have to work while others are sitting about eating turkey or watching the game on-screen.
“Through there.” He nodded toward the secured doors. “Wait. She’s heading down.”
Eve tried her master through the security slot, and was rejected. “Get us through.”
He pulled a device out of his pocket, attached it to the head of the slot, then tapped keys. “Try now.”
The second swipe opened the doors.
“Just a different kind of cloning,” Roarke told her. “She must’ve done something similar herself, blocking out any code but her own. Target’s still descending.”
“From where?” Eve demanded, and Roarke tilted the scanner, aimed it at a floor-to-ceiling drug box. “There’s your point. Elevator, has to be.”
“How the hell does it open?”
“I doubt it’s ‘open sesame.’ ” He ran his fingers over one side while she searched the other. “It can’t be manual. Too easy to trigger it accidentally.”
Eve gave it a vicious shove and earned a pitying glance from Roarke.
“It’s fused to the wall.”
“Not on this side,” he mused. “Switch.”
He worked the opposite side while Eve bellied down to search the floor for any signs. “It’s got glides. It’s on a glide.”
“I’m getting it,” he muttered. “I’m getting it.”
He pried open a small panel, studied the controls with satisfaction. “Now I’ve got you.”
“Where is she? Where’s the kid?”
Rather than respond, he handed her the scanner and got to work on the controls. “Code slot has to be around here somewhere, but this should be quicker than hunting it up.”
“She’s stopped descending, moving west. I think. We’re losing the signal. Hurry.”
“There’s a certain amount of delicacy required to—”
“Screw delicacy.” She whipped off her coat, tossed it aside.
“Pipe down for two bloody seconds,” he snapped. Then sat back on his haunches as the cabinet and wall slid left. “You’re welcome.”
“Sarcasm later, hunt down lair of mad scientists now.”
Authorization required,
the security panel announced when they stepped in.
Red sector only.
“Try your master,” Roarke suggested.
Incorrect code. Please insert correct code, and stand for retinal scan within thirty seconds . . .
Eve pulled back a fist. Roarke cupped his hand over it. “Don’t be hasty, darling.” Once again, he affixed his scanner to the panel, tapped keys. “Now.”
Incorrect code. You have twenty-two seconds to comply . . .
“Or what?” Eve snarled as Roarke reconfigured.
“Again.”
Code accepted. Please step to the rear of the unit for retinal scanning.
“How the hell do we get by that?” Eve demanded.
“She did. I’ll wager she’s done the work for us.”
The scan beam shot out of the panel, but it wavered, then pulsed twice.
Welcome, Doctors Icove. Which level do you require?
“That’s good.” Roarke’s voice held quiet admiration. “That’s bloody good. I wonder if this Deena would like a job.”
“Return to previous level,” Eve ordered.
Level One is requested.
The doors slid shut.
“Fast work on compromising the scan,” Roarke commented. “Smarter than disengaging. Bound to be an alarm trigger for that. This way you skip some steps and add the irony. I could find quite the happy position for Deena.”
“Damn it, damn it, the signal’s gone. Make sure Feeney has the last coordinates.”
She drew her weapon as the computer announced arrival at Level One.
She came out low, with Roarke taking high, into a wide, white corridor. The walls were tiled and glossy, the floors gleaming. The only color was from the large red “1” directly across from the elevator, and from the black eyes of the security cams.
“A bit like the morgue,” Roarke commented, but she shook her head.
There was no smell of death here. No smell of human. Just empty air pumped and recycled. They headed west.
There were archways right and left, with codes posted, again in red, on the walls.
“Lost Feeney. We’re deep.” Roarke looked up. The ceiling was white, too, and curved like a tunnel. “And there’s probably security plates to block unauthorized communications.”
“Have to know we’re here.” She lifted her chin toward another camera. “Maybe security’s automated.”
She strained to hear. Voices, footsteps. But there was nothing but the quiet hum of the air system. The tunnel curved, and she saw the remains of a droid scattered over the white floor.
“I’d say we’re on t
he right track.” He crouched to study the pieces. “Bug, equipped with stunners and signals.”
Because they looked like mutant spiders, they disgusted her on an innate level. And where there was one, there were bound to be more.
Her theory proved out when she heard the scuttle behind her. She turned, fired, as the bug droid rounded the curve. Three more came behind it.
She dropped to avoid the beam, clipped one, and was rolling to her feet when Roarke obliterated the third. The injured one let out a high-pitched signal before she kicked it, full force, and set it smashing against the wall.
“Damn insects.”
“That may be. But in a place like this, I’d say they’re the first wave.” Anticipating, Roarke drew a second blaster. “We can expect worse.”
They hadn’t made it another ten feet when they got worse.
They came, front and rear, and at quick march, in perfect formation. Eve counted more than a dozen before her back slapped against Roarke’s.
Droids, she hoped they were droids. They were identical: stony faces, hard eyes, bulky muscle under what were outdated military uniforms.
But young, oh Christ, no more than sixteen. Children. Just children.
“This is the police,” she shouted out. “This is a sanctioned NYPSD operation. Stop where you are.”
They kept coming, and as one entity, drew weapons.
“Take them down!”
She’d barely gotten the words out when the explosion rocked her. She flipped her weapon to full stun, fired first in a sweep, then in quick, focused bursts.
Something seared her left arm, brought a quick shock of pain. Even as she fired into one of the oncoming’s face, the one behind him fell on her.
She nearly lost her weapon as the force slammed her to the floor. She smelled blood, ripe and fresh, saw the human in his eyes. And without remorse, jammed her weapon against his throat, and fired on full.
His body jerked, convulsed, and was dead before she shoved him aside. She avoided, narrowly, the combat boot that kicked toward her face. Yanking her knife free she drove it up, into the hard belly.