Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2)

by Siegel, Alex

  Virgil skidded to a stop at the edge of the channel. The slow moving water was murky and brown. He didn't know if it was polluted, but it was certainly cold.

  Alfred stopped beside him.

  "Hold my hand so I don't lose you in the water," Virgil said. "We won't be able to communicate or see each other. Just let me lead."

  Alfred nodded and grabbed Virgil's hand firmly.

  Virgil looked back one last time. The minivan and the Humvee had parked on the dirt about twenty yards away. Soldiers were spilling out of both vehicles. They had black body armor and were carrying assault rifles. Pistols, grenades, and spare magazines were attached to their vests.

  "Don't move!" one soldier yelled. "Stay where you are! Lay down on the ground!"

  Virgil considered fighting all the soldiers at once. It was an intriguing thought. He might win, but it would certainly be a bloodbath.

  "Are we getting in the water?" Alfred said.

  Virgil nodded. "Yes. Now."

  They jumped into the water together. Chilly darkness swallowed Virgil as his heavy equipment pulled him to the bottom. He exhaled all the air from his lungs and allowed water to fill them. The strange, cold sensation made him think of death.

  * * *

  Captain Kyle's command vehicle skidded to a stop on a dirt lot. He opened the door, jumped out, and drew his sidearm.

  His was the fourth vehicle to arrive on the scene. Fifteen operatives were standing at the edge of the river and staring at the water. They had their rifles ready, but nobody was shooting.

  "What's the situation?" Kyle yelled as he ran forward.

  A sergeant turned and responded, "We haven't seen them come up, sir. No sign of them."

  Kyle reached the river. The water was the color of chocolate, and it was moving so slowly, it was hard to see any movement at all. A concrete wall stood on the far side of the channel. It was about a hundred feet across.

  "How cold is the water?" he said.

  "Very," the sergeant replied.

  Kyle frowned. "We can't just give up. Fan out along the river. Look for footprints."

  "What should we do if we see the targets? Shoot them?"

  "Warning shots. Convince them we mean business."

  "Yes, sir," the sergeant said.

  The men began to spread out in both directions along the river bank.

  Kyle walked slowly back to his command vehicle. It was a modified Humvee with extra radio antennas. All the windows were bulletproof.

  He grabbed his laptop and opened it on the back seat without getting in. He replayed the last surveillance video shot by a drone.

  The clip showed the two male subjects jumping into the river. They went under and stayed under even though they had no apparent scuba gear. Kyle didn't even see bubbles. The recording continued for three minutes and included a wide shot of the water, but there was no sign of the subjects. Quite a trick, Kyle thought.

  He messed with the video to see if he could extract more information. He tried different contrast modes and false colors. When he switched to the infrared channel, the subjects disappeared entirely. Their bodies were exactly the same temperature as the environment.

  He grimaced. He had heard whispered rumors that they were aliens. He was starting to believe it might be true.

  * * *

  Virgil lifted the top half of his head above the surface of the river. He bobbed up and down silently. Over a dozen soldiers were searching along the shore, but they had no lights, and Virgil was too far away to be seen in the darkness. From a distance, he looked like just another piece of garbage floating down the river. He knew infrared cameras would be useless also.

  He saw a cluster of four vehicles. The most interesting one had several fancy antennas sticking out, and clearly, it was meant for operational command and control. The occupant of that vehicle would be the leader. That was Virgil's target of choice.

  The soldiers were spreading out, leaving the vehicles unguarded. Virgil merely needed to be patient until his opportunity arrived.

  He slipped back under the water.

  * * *

  Lisa drove down a narrow road in a suburban neighborhood. She kept glancing in the rearview mirror, but she didn't see any headlights following her.

  She turned a corner and parked.

  "What are you doing?" Sara said.

  "Making sure nobody is behind us," Lisa said.

  She got out of the car but left the engine running. She walked back to the intersection and used a convenient tree as cover. She watched the road she had just driven down.

  Minutes passed, but patience was the key. The neighborhood was nice and quiet. No lights were on inside the two-story houses.

  Eventually, she decided it was safe. She went back to the car and sat in the driver's seat. A soft snoring noise made her turn her head. Mei had fallen asleep on the back seat. Lisa hadn't slept in so many years, she could hardly remember what it was like.

  "Poor girl," she whispered.

  "Rough night for her," Sara whispered, "and none of it was her fault."

  Lisa nodded. "Sucks."

  "What's next?"

  "We change cars. The military knows what this one looks like."

  "Where do we buy a new car at this time of night?" Sara said.

  "We don't. We steal one."

  "I don't like stealing."

  "Extenuating circumstances," Lisa said.

  She had some specific ideas for where and how she would steal a car. She started driving back to the highway.

  "We need to discuss this plan before we proceed," Sara said.

  "Why? Virgil put me in charge."

  "I don't remember it that way. He made us a team. And while we're on the topic, he's not really in charge either. He was never appointed president of the club. We follow his guidance voluntarily."

  Lisa clenched her jaw in annoyance. The situation was bad enough without a fight over leadership.

  Sara went on, "So how do you plan to steal a car?"

  "From a truck stop. You can find cars with the keys already in the ignition there."

  "Huh? You're just going to walk up and steal a car while the owner is right there?"

  "I'll wait 'til the owner is in the store," Lisa said.

  "That's horrible. How would you like it if you stopped for gas, and a thief drove off with your car, leaving you stuck at a truck stop?"

  "I'm sure I would be very pissed off, but insurance will pay for it. What's your point?"

  "We can't do this," Sara said. "I refuse to allow it."

  "You have a better idea? Every mile we drive in this car puts us at risk. We need to be in a different one by dawn. The damned Army is after us!"

  Mei snorted and turned.

  "You're assuming they're hostile," Sara said in a low voice.

  "They were flying drones over us," Lisa murmured. "That's not very friendly."

  "We don't even know if they're still looking for us. We had no problem leaving Chinatown."

  "Thanks to Virgil."

  "Maybe his help was unnecessary," Sara said. "You're assuming a dark, evil conspiracy with hardly any evidence of one."

  "What about the stolen corpse? What about the souls who snuck into Heaven?"

  "Those are bad things, but it's a huge leap to conclude the Army is trying to kill us."

  Lisa snarled. "I don't care about logical conclusions. Our job is to protect Mei, and the best way to do that is to get a different car. That's non-negotiable. Unless you can think of a better idea in a hurry, we're going with my plan."

  Sara crossed her arms and stared out the window.

  "That's the first smart thing you've said," Lisa muttered.

  * * *

  Colonel Knox walked up to the house the Crusader Special Unit was using for its covert field headquarters. It was located in an upper-class neighborhood west of Chicago. White wood paneling covered the big house, and a porch went all the way across the front. The style was simple and traditional yet elegant.


  Vehicles filled the driveway from the street all the way to the garage in back. The cars appeared ordinary from a distance, although close inspection would reveal odd features such as automatic tire inflation systems and armored body panels. The neighbors believed a movie production company was using the house as a set.

  Knox knocked on the front door using a special knock pattern. The door cracked open, and a soldier peeked out.

  "Good morning, sir," the soldier said. "It's an odd time for you to be coming to work."

  "Odd things are happening in Chinatown," Knox said.

  "May I see your badge, please?"

  The colonel slipped his badge out of his pocket and held it up for inspection. The soldier opened the door a little wider and used a portable laser scanner to check the authenticity of the badge. He also leaned in and stared at Knox's face for half a minute to make sure he wasn't an imposter.

  "You may enter, sir," the soldier finally said.

  Knox walked into the quiet house. He went straight upstairs to the security and surveillance control room. Only one operator was on duty, but that was forgivable considering dawn was still a couple of hours away.

  "What's the status?" Knox demanded.

  The operator was an older man with the rank of lieutenant. He was probably near retirement.

  "The units in Chinatown are still searching the river for the male subjects, sir."

  "Huh?" Knox said. "I missed that news."

  The operator summarized the situation.

  Knox sighed with irritation. He hated complications, and missing aliens was a very big complication.

  "What about the female subjects?"

  "A squad is following them using the homing beacon, sir," the operator said. "They are passing through Franklin Park."

  "Our guys are staying out of sight?"

  "A following distance of one kilometer. The range of the beacon is three kilometers."

  Knox nodded. "Perfect. I'll be downstairs in my office. Keep me apprised of any new developments."

  "Yes, sir."

  Knox went down to his office and turned on the light. He didn't have much actual work to do, but he could fill out paperwork to pass the time. He certainly couldn't afford to go back to sleep even though he was exhausted.

  He noticed an unexpected light in the back of the house. He walked around and found the lights in the basement were on. He went downstairs.

  Dr. Harlow was working in his physics lab. A device built out of copper coils, batteries, and capacitors was on his workbench. He was soldering the connections under a bright lamp.

  "What are you doing?" Knox said.

  Harlow looked up abruptly, and his face flashed guilt. Then he settled down.

  "Just puttering around, sir," he said. "I couldn't sleep."

  "Is that some kind of experiment?"

  Harlow looked at the device on the workbench. "Something I played with years ago but never quite got working right. I decided to take another shot at it. What's happening with the aliens?"

  "Things have gone a little crooked." Knox related the latest news.

  Harlow put the soldering iron on its stand. "We have to catch them."

  "The operatives are doing their best."

  "Maybe those aliens are the reason the experiments have been failing," Harlow said with a surprising amount of anxiety in his voice. "They certainly know what the problem is. It will be a disaster if they get away."

  "Calm down," Knox said. "The best people available are dealing with it."

  Harlow frowned and looked at his experiment. "If the President finds out you're chasing real, live aliens, he'll take the project away from us. He'll give it to a high-ranking general."

  "I know," Knox said. "I'm doing my best to keep that information secret, at least until after we capture them. Then we'll look like heroes."

  Harlow shuffled his feet anxiously.

  "You're still planning to meet Ms. Penn in the morning? What are you going to say to her?"

  "I'll tell her what I told her before," Harlow said. "Science is hard. Discoveries come at a price. Maybe she'll listen this time."

  Knox stared at the scientist. Harlow was acting odd. He was up to something.

  "Sir," Harlow said, "I'd like to get back to my little project now."

  Knox frowned. "Sure. I'll be upstairs if you want to talk more."

  He left the basement, glancing over his shoulder at Harlow on the way out.

  * * *

  Harlow let out a sigh of relief.

  He turned his attention back to the device on his workbench. Early in his career, he had researched weapons that used electromagnetic pulses. He had never managed to turn the technology into something which the Army could use on the battlefield, but it wasn't useless. He had learned how to build a small, electromagnetic bomb. When detonated, it would fry all the electronics in a light airplane and bring it crashing to the ground.

  Rena Penn would not talk to the President because she would be dead.

  As Harlow worked, he thought about the "aliens." He knew they weren't aliens at all. They were the adversaries the mysterious face had warned him about. It was imperative that Knox capture or kill them.

  Harlow forced himself to relax. The Army's best soldiers were working on the problem.

  Chapter Ten

  Virgil slid out of the river and into the grass like a snake. He stayed low, bending his joints in ways impossible for a normal man. A soldier was standing on the riverbank, but he wasn't looking in the right direction. Virgil was on him in seconds.

  "Hey," Virgil said.

  The soldier turned and his eyes widened. He whipped his rifle around. Virgil grabbed the barrel and pushed it away just as the soldier pulled the trigger. The sound of a gunshot echoed off the buildings, but the bullet missed. Virgil punched the soldier in the jaw, knocking him out.

  The noise would attract the other soldiers just as Virgil had intended. He dived back into the river and went straight to the bottom. He couldn't see anything in the chilly darkness, but the wall of the river channel guided him. He swam as fast as he could downstream while running his fingertips along the wall.

  The fires of Hell kept him warm and supplied his body with energy. It was like having a small furnace in his gut. He wondered if those flames would ever go out.

  A few minutes later, Virgil bumped into an obstacle. He felt it with his hands and discovered it was Alfred. Virgil had arrived at the right location.

  They silently breached the surface together. They were near the four military vehicles parked on a dirt lot. The command vehicle was still there, and a man in a green uniform was sitting in the back seat. Virgil recognized the soldier as "Mr. Bravo" from Rooney's Coffee, but now he wore captain's bars. A driver was also in the car, but the rest of the soldiers had dispersed.

  Virgil and Alfred had already agreed on a plan earlier. They climbed out of the river at the location where a truck blocked the view of the driver in the car.

  Alfred drew a pistol and started shooting the tires of other vehicles. He was a lousy shot, but even an amateur couldn't miss at such short range. The gunshots sounded very loud in the still night.

  Meanwhile, Virgil circled around behind the command vehicle using the truck as cover. The driver was getting out of the car. He was a huge man, at least six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than Virgil. The driver also had full body armor.

  Virgil ran, jumped, and kicked him in the back of the head. He went down like a sack of rocks.

  Mr. Bravo was going out the other side of the command vehicle with the obvious intention of escaping.

  "No, you don't," Virgil said.

  He vaulted the hood of the car, grabbed the man, punched him in the gut, and shoved him roughly back inside. Virgil joined his captive on the back seat.

  "Alfred!" Virgil yelled. "Time to go!"

  Alfred nodded. He ran over and sat in the driver's seat. The keys were already in the ignition. He started the car, backed up, and drove o
ff.

  Virgil took a good look at his captive. The name on his Army uniform was "Kyle." He had the muscular, lean body of a man who worked out obsessively. His brown hair was cropped short and even. A scar under his left eye probably had an interesting story behind it.

  Kyle drew a gun from his holster with surprising speed. He squeezed off a shot before Virgil had time to react, and a bullet punctured his abdomen. He grabbed the gun and ripped it out of Kyle's hand with brute strength. Kyle followed with an elbow to Virgil's jaw which hit with enough strength to make something crunch. Virgil shoved Kyle into the door with stunning force.

  "Calm down," Alfred said in his special voice. "No need for violence. We're all friends here."

  Kyle instantly relaxed.

  "More mind-control," he said in a dopey voice.

  "That's not true," Alfred said. "It's more accurate to say I'm sharing God's love and compassion...."

  "Alfred!" Virgil said. "Shut up."

  Alfred closed his mouth.

  Virgil checked his gut. A hole had leaked some sticky, black fluid, but the wound was already closing. He would be good as new in a few minutes.

  Kyle stared at the injury. "I heard you're an alien," he whispered.

  "Is that what they told you?" Virgil said. "Sure. I'm from Mars. Take me to your leader. Bippity-bippity-bop!"

  He twisted his neck and looked out the back window. The street was empty. The soldiers would have a hard time pursuing with flat tires.

  "Where are we going now?" Alfred said.

  Virgil faced the front. The car was headed north towards the skyscrapers in downtown Chicago.

  He knew they couldn't just drive away and expect to escape. The military might have a surveillance plane tracking the car. They could hack traffic cameras or get the local police involved. The opposition had many good options for hunting down a couple of fugitives with a hostage.

  Virgil looked at the dashboard and saw an array of radios and computers. He realized they might be transmitting the car's position in real-time. Stealing this particular vehicle had been a mistake, although Virgil was satisfied with the quality of his captive. Captain Kyle would have plenty of answers.

  "The cursed hatch," Virgil said.

  "Why there?" Alfred said.

  "Once we're in the tunnels, the authorities will never find us. It's a maze down there, designed to keep people away from the hatch."