Hard Wired

by C. Ryan Bymaster

  The guard spat. Blood splattered Dent’s gun and forearm.

  Dent squeezed the trigger. The guard’s knee cap was destroyed.

  Once the howling stopped, Dent put the hot barrel to the guard’s shoulder. “Jeffery?”

  After a string of curses, the guard finally hissed out, “Eighth floor, you bastard.”

  “Elevators?”

  Something flashed across the guard’s face, something Dent didn’t readily recognize. The guard’s lips curled slightly and he pointed to the left, to the double doors Dent came from. “Through there, go left,” he said.

  Bobseyn grabbed Dent’s shoulder to urge him that way, but Dent didn’t budge.

  “Not the main elevator,” Dent said down to the guard, catching on to some ploy.

  The guard’s lips went flat. Dent pushed his barrel deeper into the flesh of the man’s shoulder.

  “There’s an east bank elevator,” the guard finally gave in.

  “Tell me.”

  After getting the directions, Bobseyn convinced Dent to not put the guard out of his misery, and they walked in silence — if the crying and screaming from the devotees all around the lobby could be considered silence — until they found the elevator, eyes and ears out for more security. When they made the elevator, Dent stepped in, pushed every single button, and stepped back out.

  Bobseyn stared at him as the doors closed. “What the hell?”

  Dent didn’t reply, simply headed to the doors to the right of the elevator. Bobseyn had no choice but to follow.

  XL

  The service elevator was twice as big as the elevator she’d rode up with Cherry when she first got to The Ranch, and the doors on this elevator opened all the way, leaving Kasumi nowhere to hide when it stopped at the eighth floor. Luckily, nobody was in the hallway.

  She looked left, right, left again. Shrugging her shoulders, she went left, figuring that was the direction the devotees were going on the main floor to the lobby, so Jeffery’s lair should be that way on the top floor.

  She didn’t exactly tiptoe down the hallway, but still she kept a good pace. The walls here were painted a sky blue and the carpet was done in a dark floral design pattern. It wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. Not the type of style she’d guess a bad guy would opt for.

  Reaching up and knocking a picture frame with a red-orange-pink sunset scene back and forth on its mounting screw, Kasumi wondered what this place was before Jeffery came to town. There were doors every so often and this hallway kind of reminded her of a hotel, or a hospital that tried to look less hospital-like. The thought of hospitals like those sent a shiver down her spine.

  Her mother had forced her to live in a hospital. Oh, it was made to look like a house, with couches, living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens. But houses weren’t as cold as the fake one inside the hospital her mother had locked her in as a child. And once her mother found out that Kasumi had a talent for forcing her emotions onto others, her life had been relegated to an ever smaller section in the hospital, one where doctors, scientists, and anybody else who wore a lab coat or an ugly tie to work every day had easy access to her. Her days became filled with questions and tests — both mental and physical — as well as being hooked up to and run through machines that were bigger than a car and louder than a pissed off dinosaur. Her only escape had been books and movies and television, and since she hated books — too much effort to read all the way through — that left movies and television.

  Then came Dent.

  He rescued her from the prison her mother put had her in. Except at first, it wasn’t exactly a rescue since he had been hired to kidnap her, but eventually he came to his senses. And the way she saw it, she rescued him. Dent was like a lost puppy. A puppy that had no clue how to wag its tail. Well, she’d been training him ever since they met, and one day he wouldn’t be so Denty.

  As long as he kept her safe from people trying to put her back in a cage. And speaking of jerks like that ….

  How would she get Jeffery to tell her where the eTech he was using on the people here was located? She needed to shut it off and get the devotees to stop being so devoted. If she didn’t free these people then Dent would leave them all in need of a real hospital.

  Or a funeral.

  It was up to her make sure that didn’t happen, make sure Dent didn’t go too far this time.

  She picked up her pace. She was worried that she’d gotten herself completely lost when she saw that the hallway she’d just made a right into opened up into a wide space, kind of like a small lobby. As she got closer she saw that she was on the right track. The walls of the lobby were painted red, the same red that the outer room of Jeffery’s lair had been.

  Now she did tiptoe, skirting the wall on the right as she approached the end of the hallway. She was so close now, and it wouldn’t do any good to give herself away. Stopping just at the edge of the hall, she checked out the lobby. She was in one of three hallways that led to the open space, one from each direction. The last wall, the one without a hallway, had a single closed door. A domed glass skylight let in a bit of daylight, and below the skylight, right in the middle of the lobby, was a huge wooden sculpture, almost as big as her. It was an upraised hand with a globe in the palm sitting on a marble base.

  Oh my God, even Jeffery’s choice of art was tacky! The man deserved to have Dent beat the crap out of him just for that.

  She calmed her nerves, controlled her breathing. In and out, in and out, breathe and listen, breathe and listen. In less than a minute she was ready to go. The coast was clear and she decided she’d head for the door. Just a few steps and—

  A hand clamped down on her shoulder from behind. She jumped and spun, trying to pull herself away, but the owner of that hand, a stern man dressed all in black, held firm. The blue light in his right ear meant he had to be one of the security team.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  His voice barely registered over the blood pumping through her eardrums and she said the first thing that came to mind. “Tea?”

  The man looked past her, into the lobby, then back down at her. “What?”

  She puffed out her chest and said confidently, “I’m looking for tea.” If you’re going to come up with a cover story, might as well stick with it.

  The man ignored her answer, instead tapping something in his left ear. “Hey, Keeper One, it’s Mills. I’ve got a girl here on eight.”

  Kasumi struggled, but Mills gave her an angry look and twisted his grip on her sweater. She heard his earpiece buzz as someone apparently responded.

  Mills looked at her questioningly. “Kasumi?” he asked.

  “What’s it to you?” She wasn’t going to give him any information.

  He tapped his earpiece. “Yeah, it’s her.”

  Another series of buzzes.

  “No idea, sir. She’s by herself, though.”

  Buzz-buzz.

  “Got it.” Mills looked at her as he spoke to whoever was on the other end. “Send Marcus over to cover East Eight while I secure the girl.”

  Kasumi didn’t like the sound of that. She grabbed Mills’s wrist and tried twisting it away, but he kept his death-grip on her.

  “I’ll be back in five,” Mills said to the person on the other end of his earpiece.

  Kasumi kicked Mills in the shin and then delivered a punch into his stomach. He yelped, but it sounded more like it was in surprise than pain, then yanked her to the side, making it harder for her to get another good shot in.

  Mills glared at her as he tapped his ear again. “Make that ten, Keeper One.”

  Ha! She smiled at her small victory.

  Mills pulled and dragged her back the way she had come, and she struggled even more, even thinking of slipping out of her sweater and making a run for it. But Mills had had enough and grabbed her arm with his other hand.

  “Calm down,” he snapped.

  Good idea, she thought.

  She pushed that ball of fe
ar of being captured down, hard as it was, and stopped squirming. She counted her breaths, made them match her steps, and thought peaceful thoughts, calm thoughts. Ocean waves on a beach. A clock ticking away. The steady drip-drip of brewing coffee in Sheriff Bobseyn’s kitchen.

  And she sent that calmness out.

  “Move it, kid, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.”

  What? Why didn’t it work?

  “What’s wrong with you?” she shot over her shoulder.

  “Doing my job,” came the answer.

  She reverted to squirming again, never mind the bruises she was going to have on her arm and shoulder. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To a secure room.”

  “Yeah, because that worked out great for you guys the first time.”

  That gave Mills something to think about. He forced her around a corner and roughly pushed her up against the wall. “How did you get out?” he finally asked.

  She had her answer ready. “Magic.”

  Mills didn’t say anything else, just shoved her in front of him and force-marched her along with a two handed-grip this time. After a minute, she heard his earpiece buzz again.

  “Hold on,” he told her, stopping them both in their tracks. He let go of her with one hand and tapped his ear.

  “Yeah. Got it, sir.” Grabbing her again and then turning her around, he said, “Come on.”

  She was started to get dizzy from all this stopping and going and spinning and marching. “Where now?”

  “More walk, less talk.”

  She twisted as far as she could to look back and up at the man.

  “What?” he snapped when he saw her glare.

  “Nothing. Just seeing if you looked like someone I know. You guys both have the same winning personality.”

  He forced her to look ahead, not bothering to reply.

  A few more minutes and they walked through a set of double doors, through a room with a long table and a good dozen chairs around it, then on into a smaller room with walls painted red.

  Kasumi froze, not because of the color, but because of the man at the other side of the room.

  The cat-man that had been guarding Jeffery’s outer lair leered down at her. He stood before a half-opened door that led to a brightly lit room.

  “In there,” Cat-man said to Mills, his eyes never leaving Kasumi.

  Mills pushed her forward and when Cat-man stepped aside she almost spat on him.

  She sneered. “What? No cage for the dangerous little girl?”

  He just flashed his fangs. “Jeffery says it would be best to keep an active eye on you,” he said. “It’s safer.”

  “Safer for who?”

  “That,” Cat-man replied, “he didn’t say.”

  As she was shoved into the room, she caught a flash of the blue LED light in the man’s right ear. He saw her eyes narrow at seeing it and he gave her a creepy, self-satisfied smile that sent shivers down her spine.

  XLI

  The four armed men, guns pointed at the elevator door, spread out just a bit more as they heard the soft ding of the arriving elevator. As one, they took steadying breaths, the unified sound a close match to the whisper of the doors as they opened.

  Before the wood-paneled doors were completely open, the four men let loose several rounds, aiming just below waist level. Grey powder-heavy smoke filled the immediate area outside the elevator, muzzles flashes catching in the swirling clouds. Inside the elevator, a mass of splintered wood and torn metal.

  And nothing else.

  The two men closest to the elevator took a tentative step forward …

  Then dropped almost simultaneously, small, blood-heavy clouds exploding from their heads and then falling around their dropped bodies.

  The two shots fired from just outside the stairwell were enough warning for the remaining two men to swivel that way, bringing their weapons up and around. Two more shots rang out, this time a good second-and-a-half apart, and the remaining security guards dropped. One was spun from the slug in his shoulder, the other went down as his vest took the force, possibly with more than one broken rib.

  Dent and Bobseyn rushed from where they had waited on the other side of the cracked door, just inside the stairwell, making sure that the downed men would offer no threats. Two of the four would never threaten anything, or anyone, again, while the other two moaned and rolled on the carpet. Dent kicked away both guns, though neither man looked like they were willing to put up a fight at the moment.

  Looking down at the injured but alive men, Dent commented, “You missed.” He wasn’t talking to the men.

  “They’re alive,” Bobseyn said, coming up to join Dent. “It’s much harder not to kill.”

  The guard with the possibly broken ribs rolled to the side, right arm coming out from beneath him with a back-up weapon. Without a second thought, Dent squeezed his trigger once, sending the man’s head slamming back into the carpet.

  “And it’s much easier to get killed,” Dent stated.

  Bobseyn stared at Dent, his jaw set firm. Dent had the impression that the man wanted to say something, so he just stared right back.

  After a few seconds of neither man backing down, Dent saw the futility of standing there in the open and brushed past Bobseyn to search the only living guard in the hallway. After pulling that man’s spare weapon from the small of his back, Dent reached down and yanked out both of the man’s earpieces. One he recognized as a two-way communicator. The other had no speaker or microphone. Just a familiar pinpoint blue LED. If this device was not for communication then it could only mean one thing.

  “It’s an eBlocker,” he said aloud, standing and handing the small device to Bobseyn.

  “This … A what?”

  “It’s an eBlocker. I knew a man who used to build them. Although, his were much bigger. I’d say that this is how the guards are working without being adversely affected by the eTech in employ on the premises.”

  Bobseyn looked to the three dead men. “That means … they weren’t being controlled.”

  Dent nodded. “What they do here they do for financial gain. Which means they deserved no mercy. They weren’t innocent, so my actions were warranted.”

  Bobseyn looked at the man Dent had killed for trying to draw his spare weapon. “And when exactly did you realize that?”

  Dent inclined his head to the device Bobseyn still held. “About five seconds ago.”

  Before the sheriff could do the math, Dent headed down the hallway, deeper into building. Somewhere, likely in the center offices of this floor, Fifth was being held hostage. It was only a matter of time until whoever was in charge here realized that nothing would stop Dent from reaching her.

  And at that point, Dent hoped the sheriff would be up to doing what was necessary. It was time the sheriff put aside whatever foolish notions and emotions he had rattling around in his brain.

  Innocents or not, more people would die this day.

  And it would be infinitely better if those people weren’t Dent or Fifth.

  ---

  “How will we know when we find the source of the eTech?” Bobseyn asked ten minutes later. He’d just cleared a blind corner and waved Dent ahead.

  They were moving at a steady but deliberate pace, working their way to the center of the top floor. The hallways they traversed were lined with closed doors every twelve feet. The first few doors had revealed nothing but empty, unlit bedrooms, layers of dust on the spare furniture telling Dent that this floor was likely reserved for the man in charge of The Ranch.

  “I don’t entirely know,” Dent answered without looking back. “If we can’t immediately recognize it, then we’ll have to question whoever’s in charge. And I believe that’s Jeffery.”

  “I have a feeling your idea of questioning doesn’t involve a polite Q and A session.”

  Finally, Dent thought, the man was catching on.

  “Dent.”

  “Bobseyn.”

  “We need Jeffery, or
whoever’s in charge here, alive long enough to tell us how to shut the eTech off.”

  Dent didn’t answer. Though the eTech had brought him here originally, his only focus now was ensuring Fifth got out safely. If he shut down the eTech as a byproduct of that mission, then so be it.

  Dent made a left, Bobseyn close at his heels. Suddenly Dent was thrown forward and to the side. The wall just above his head exploded in plaster and wood chips and Bobseyn fired three rounds straight ahead.

  “You okay?” Bobseyn asked, making sure the man who’d fired at them was down.

  Looking up at the gouged wall, Dent replied, “Yes.”

  He stood, dusted off his shoulders, and pushed on. The dying guard up ahead was a good sign. They were getting close.

  Behind him, Bobseyn muttered under his breath, “Oh, you’re quite welcome. It was my pleasure.”

  Dent ignored the comment. “I was starting to wonder why we hadn’t run into more guards,” he said.

  Coming up abreast of Dent, Bobseyn threw out his opinion. “I don’t think this place was meant to hold off an army, Dent. I doubt that they had the foresight to plan for someone like you rocking the boat.”

  Dent stepped over the bleeding-out guard, ignoring the hand raised pitifully up for help. “Then they shouldn’t have taken Fifth.”

  Bobseyn stepped around the drying man. “So it’s their fault then?”

  To Dent, that sounded close to putting the blame on him, and not on The Ranch. He said as much.

  The sheriff had no reply.

  Up ahead, the hallway opened up. Here the walls were painted red and a statue of a large hand holding a globe sat beneath a skylight.

  “That’s got to be the entrance to the main offices,” Bobseyn noted, pointing to the door at the northern wall of the lobby.

  Dent nodded his agreement and added, “Whatever’s left of the security team will be there.”

  The two moved, making their careful way to the statue and then splitting, each going to either side. Bobseyn’s pocket chirped and he pulled out his EB. It was a message from Timson, informing the sheriff that the EMTs were outside and waiting, but that they couldn’t get through the eField. He relayed the message to Dent.