Gameprey nfe-11

by Tom Clancy

  Standing at the arrival gate lobby in LAX, Maj watched the HoloNet on units hanging from the ceiling. The view cut from the anchor to the blond reporter she recognized from the news reports that morning. She stood out in front of the Bessel Midtown Hotel in front of a nearby crowd that watched her. Her name, Veronica Rivers, was tagged under the time/date stamp in the lower right corner.

  “Things here are still confusing, Frank,” Veronica said. “As you can tell from the crowd behind me, there’s a lot of interest in the whereabouts of Peter Griffen after today’s excitement.”

  The holo split, picking up the image of the granite-jawed anchor sitting at his desk and placing it beside the street scene of the reporter. “Have police made any headway in the kidnapping investigation?”

  “If they have, they aren’t letting us know.” Veronica waved at the hotel. “In fact, there’s a lot of speculation going on now that this kidnapping might not have been a kidnapping at all, but a publicity stunt created by Griffen and his software publishers to generate sales of his new game.”

  “Those are serious charges,” the anchor said.

  Maj shook her head. After all the advances in technology, the media still relied on melodrama to capture viewers. She wanted to stop watching, but she found she couldn’t.

  “Wow,” Catie said as she joined her. “They got that out quick.”

  “No news spreads like bad news,” Maj replied. She glanced around the lobby, carefully avoiding the press of dozens of passengers who’d just off-loaded. Megan stood by the gate window, peering up at the sky as they waited for Leif, Matt, and Andy’s flight to arrive.

  “After the rumors about the faked kidnapping started circulating,” Veronica continued on HoloNet, “I asked the lead detective on the case about it.”

  The view cut away suddenly to a gray-haired man with a hound-dog face and gravelly voice. A tag appeared briefly beneath him: BRUCE TOLLIVER, CAPTAIN OF DETECTIVES, LAPD. “Yes, we’re aware of the rumors, and we’re looking into them. Since this might be a kidnapping, we have to assume a life may be in jeopardy.”

  “Have any ransom demands been made yet, Captain Tolliver?” Veronica asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Isn’t that unusual?” the reporter asked.

  “Actually, that’s not exceptional,” Tolliver replied.

  “Do you believe there was a kidnapping today?” Veronica asked.

  “I can’t comment on that.”

  The scene cut back to the split view of anchor and reporter. “We’ve had other reactions to today’s bizarre events,” Veronica went on. A series of sound and vid bytes followed.

  “He looked sad,” a young woman said. The shot had evidently been taken inside the convention room right after the kidnapping. “Really sad. But I don’t think he kidnapped himself. I mean, who would do that? You’d have to be kind of sick, right?”

  “This business is all about attention,” a guy in his thirties said. A tag under him read, MIKE SIMON, GAME DESIGNER.

  “I just want to play that game,” a teenage boy said enthusiastically. “It’s going to be so cool.”

  “Now, there’s sympathy for you,” Catie commented.

  Maj nodded.

  “We also interviewed Griffen’s lawyers,” Veronica went on. The scene cut to an older man in an Italian suit.

  “The whole idea that Eisenhower Productions or Peter had a hand in engineering something like this is totally ludicrous,” Brett Harper, attorney-at-law, said. “First off, a fiasco like this is highly irresponsible. The law enforcement agencies involved are not going to be amused, and Peter would never think of potentially alienating his fans in this manner.”

  The scene cut back to the reporter. “What we have so far, Frank, is a mystery that only Peter Griffen or the people responsible for his disappearance can solve.”

  “Hey, they’re here,” Megan called from the gate.

  Maj and Catie joined her as the first passengers came through. Surprisingly, Matt, Andy, and Leif were among them.

  “First class,” Catie teased. “Somebody’s moving up in the world.”

  “It was the only way to get three seats together,” Leif said. He looked at Maj with concern as they walked through the terminal. “You look like you could use some rest.”

  “Thanks. That does my confidence a world of good.”

  Leif glanced around the lobby. “Okay, it’s been awhile since I was in LAX. Where are the baggage claim areas?”

  Maj pointed to the signs. As she did, her attention was caught by the HoloNet presentation again. A holo image of Peter from the convention occupied center stage with images of the great dragon hanging high overhead. Her mind flashed on the image of Peter when she’d first seen him, dressed in armor and on Sahfrell’s back. Then she noticed the rest of the group was waiting on her.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m a little preoccupied.”

  “Hey,” Leif said softly, “it’s okay.”

  Maj shook her head. “I don’t think so. According to the police, there hasn’t been a ransom demand yet.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad,” Megan said. “Kidnappers wait a day or so just to let the family get worried before they make their move.”

  “That’s the way your dad wrote it in his novel,” Maj pointed out. One of R. F. O’Malley’s best-sellers had involved the kidnapping of an operating room nurse from Walter Reed, and the story got even more complicated from there. “In real life kidnappers have a tendency to kill their victims. No witness equals no crime. More often than not, kidnap victims don’t come home to their families.”

  No one had anything to say about that, and when the holo of Peter Griffen disappeared from the media broadcast, everything seemed awkward.

  Matt walked over and put his arm around Maj’s shoulders. “Don’t sell us out so early. We’re just getting on the ground with this thing. We’ve always made a difference before.”

  “We’re not above failing, and you know that.” Maj remembered Julio Cortez. The Net Force Explorers had tried to help him escape the situation he had been in. They’d gotten his family out, but not Julio.

  “We’re not going to fail,” Matt said, his eyes still showing hurt from that mission. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s not about failing, Matt. I’m just afraid we’re already too late.”

  Gaspar Latke sat in the corner of the room that had become his prison and watched Heavener standing in front of one of the blacked-out polarized windows. She talked over an encrypted foilpack in a verbal shorthand he couldn’t keep track of. She made things even more complicated by speaking in Russian. It was her habit to change languages on a regular basis.

  Heavener was obviously unhappy. The emotion showed in the stiff way she held herself and the clipped tone she used. When she was finished, she snapped the foilpack closed and turned on him with catlike quickness.

  She’s going to kill me. Gaspar trembled.

  Instead, she said, “I’ll be back.”

  “Su-sure.” He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stay warm.

  A small smile dusted Heavener’s lips, and he knew she was enjoying his fear.

  Gaspar peered through the doorway after she left, knowing he’d never open it on his own. It let out into a hallway filled with shadows and blank doors. Heavener faded into the darkness before the door closed.

  Feek! Gaspar wanted to shout and vent the frustration and fear that were eating him up. The attention Peter Griffen had gotten at the convention, all that he knew about Realm of the Bright Waters, those guaranteed his death.

  He forced himself into motion, dropping into one of the implant chairs and onto the Net. Jumping free of the warehouse location on the Net, knowing he didn’t have much time, he boosted himself through a sat-link and headed for Alexandria, Virginia. The reports Heavener had gotten included Madeline Green’s home address as well as her Net location.

  On the Net, he hovered above her house and qui
ckly sorted through the virtual connections she had to the Net. Most visitors to veeyar never noticed them, but Gaspar had programming that allowed him to make the connections visible. A lot of crackers did.

  He blinked, then studied the electronic circuitry that stemmed from Madeline Green’s room. All of it was protected behind firewalls that looked like glassy-blue force fields. Knowing Heavener might return at any moment, he hurried when he should have hesitated. He spun a fiberoptic cable from his chest and shot it toward the system’s mail utility link. Since he wasn’t breaking in to destroy anything or to try to leave an archived virus bombpack, he knew leaving the message would be easy. But as soon as the fiberoptic cable touched the e-mail utility link, a hand stabbed out of the cable, coated in the same black plastic as the cable. It made a fist around the fiberoptic cable.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” a triumphant voice announced.

  15

  Gaspar Latke panicked, feeling the incredible pull of the fist wrapped around the fiberoptic cable spinning out of his chest. “No!”

  “Yes.” Mark Gridley stepped from the e-mail link. Gaspar pulled back, hoping to snap the fiberoptic cable in his chest. The pain when he hit the end of the cable was incredible, almost enough to automatically log him off. He’d extended his pain threshold for Heavener’s operations past all usual settings.

  “Go ahead and fight,” Mark told him. “You’re hooked like a fish on a line. Maybe I can’t keep you prisoner here, but if you try to log off, the virus I’ve overlaid into your proxy programming is going to leave a signature I can follow anywhere.” He grinned and took one long step across the Net that brought him up to Gaspar hanging above Madeline Green’s house.

  Gaspar ran a quick systems diagnostic on his proxy and found the embedded virus coding. None of the normal firewalls and detectors he kept as part of the proxy’s shielding had even phased it. The kid was good.

  “You’ve got to let me go,” Gaspar pleaded. Instinctively he pulled at the fiberoptic cable. “Without following me.”

  “No, I don’t,” Mark replied.

  “They’ll kill me if you trace me.”

  An uneasy look settled across the young boy’s face.

  “You didn’t think about that, did you?” Gaspar demanded, knowing he had a slight edge. “About them killing me, I mean.”

  “Who are they?”

  Gaspar shook his head. “If I tell you that, they’ll kill me.”

  “What if I don’t believe you?” Mark challenged.

  “Then you might as well put the pistol to my head and pull the trigger yourself.” Despite the overwhelming fight-or-flight reflex filling him, Gaspar made himself relax somewhat. “Have you ever seen anyone die while they were online?”

  Even in 2025, with all the safeguards put on the Net, it still happened. A heart patient or terminally ill patient logged on at the time of a massive cardiac arrest was a prime candidate. And no one had found a certain way to predict when a brain aneurysm was going to occur or explode, taking someone’s life with it. Gaspar had seen it happen, had seen proxies unravel on the Net. And some nights the dreams still haunted him.

  “I don’t have much time,” Gaspar said quietly. “If they come back and find me online, I won’t be given a chance to explain.”

  Hesitation furrowed Mark’s brow. “Who are you?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything that will lead directly to me. Or to them.”

  “What were you doing here?” Mark demanded.

  “Leaving your friend a message.” Gaspar closed his hand, then opened it, revealing an icon that was a crude parchment with a ribbon tied around it. “This message.”

  “About what?”

  “You’re welcome to read it, but I’ve got to go.” Gaspar felt frantic. How long have I been gone already? He hadn’t even checked the time when he’d logged on, and that was usually one of the first things he did.

  “Give me something,” Mark said.

  “I’m giving you that note,” Gaspar replied. “And I shouldn’t even be doing that.” He pulled at the fiberoptic cable, drawing back. The pain started again, sending crashing pain throbbing between his temples. “Track me back and they’ll know and I’ll be dead. I slipped through a bolt hole I left in the programming, but there’s no way I can get back through it with a trace on me.”

  “Go.” Mark turned the fiberoptic cable loose.

  Automatically Gaspar ran a systems check on the proxy and found it clean. He logged off and opened his eyes back in the dark room. Heavener was still gone, but he couldn’t quite summon up a true feeling of relief. The clock was already ticking on what was left of his life.

  “—and then he was gone.”

  Maj sat in her hotel room with her friends. Mark Gridley’s holo stood at center stage, holding all their attention with his story.

  Andy shook his head. He sat on the floor against the wall. “You should have left the trace on.”

  “If they’d found it, they would have killed him.”

  Andy spread his hands. “Excuse me for being the cynic here, but you only had his word about that.”

  Mark looked at them a little uncertainly. “I believed him.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Matt advised. “You did the right thing. The guys who invaded Maj’s room last night sure didn’t have any problems pulling the trigger.”

  “Sure, the guy thought he was nailed,” Andy persisted. “He was going to tell you any story you’d buy into.”

  “Sometimes people tell the truth,” Megan pointed out.

  “A body shows up,” Andy said, “you can trace a body.”

  “That’s awfully cold,” Catie said.

  “I’m just saying.”

  “And bodies don’t always turn up,” Leif said. “You’d be surprised how many hostile takeovers among corporations actually turn out hostile.”

  Maj hardened her voice. Andy was a friend, but his cynical streak was definitely a pain sometimes. “How about it, Andy? Think you’d have called it any other way?” She met Andy’s gaze fully.

  Andy blew his breath out. “No. No, you did the right thing, Squirt. I’m just itching to be doing something instead of sitting around here.”

  “Something like pulling surveillance in the game room?” Leif suggested. He munched on a banana from the huge fruit bowl he’d had sent up. There was also a selection of cheeses and crackers and bottled water.

  Andy’s face brightened. “Now there’s an idea. If they hadn’t shut the game room down, I’d be in heaven.” The game room had been sealed by the LAPD while a forensics team scoured the area and processed witnesses. Some off-site gaming centers had been set up that were accessible through the Net, but the experience just wasn’t the same.

  Maj studied the printout from the letter the mystery guy had left. Visit the Game Producers’ Banquet in the hotel tonight. Look and listen. The package had also included three unique guest passes that couldn’t be duplicated.

  “Are you sure it was the same guy you met last night?” Maj asked.

  “He had the same proxy,” Mark answered. “The same kind of feel to him. I’d say so.”

  “You know,” Matt said, “this could be a setup.”

  “That crossed my mind,” Maj admitted.

  “Or it could be contact so they can make the ransom demand,” Megan said.

  “That I hadn’t thought of.” And that’s a new twist I really didn’t want to think about right now, Maj thought. “But why me?”

  “For a messenger,” Leif said. “Maybe it’s because of your Net Force connections. They’ve studied your background by now. They’ll know who you are.”

  “They could contact Peter’s publishers,” Maj said. “That would make more sense.”

  “Unless you figure maybe they were the geeks who kidnapped Peter in the first place,” Andy said. “Or that Peter wanted them to contact you because he helped kidnap himself.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

 
Andy snorted. “And you got that from the thumbnail history they’ve got on HoloNet, right?”

  “Back off,” Maj said angrily.

  “No,” Andy said. “Stop and think for a minute, Maj. Somehow Peter Griffen invaded your veeyar here at the hotel while you were showing your sim off to Matt. Guys later invaded your room. Maybe you were supposed to scream ‘Police!’ last night and get some extra attention. Instead, Detective Holmes and Captain Winters squashed the story.”

  “You didn’t see his face,” Maj said. “He was just as surprised to see us there as we were to see him.”

  “That’s right,” Matt put in. “And the team who was here last night came prepared to kill anyone who got in their way. That wasn’t an act.”

  “Who knows? Maybe a game will sell better if there’s a body count attached.”

  “Andy,” Catie cautioned.

  “Actually,” Megan said, “Andy does have a point. A somewhat bloodthirsty one, but a point all the same.”

  “Okay, I’ll take that for an answer now,” Maj said. “But the question remains about whether we should go to the banquet.”

  Andy raised an eyebrow and smiled. “It’s your call, Cinderella. That’s your name on the tickets to the ball.”

  “And two friends,” Maj said. “Want to escort me?”

  “To a stuffed shirt convention?” Andy shook his head. “I’d rather have surgery to remove—”

  Leif interrupted hastily, “I’d love to go with you, Maj.”

  “Fine.”

  “Count me in.” Megan looked around the room. “Unless someone else would rather go.”

  “The three of you should be fine,” Matt said. “The convention’s going to be heavily guarded, physically as well as virtually, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems. In the meantime, Catie can hold down the fort here and work as a communications go-between while Mark, Andy, and I knock on a few doors to see what we can turn up.”

  “What doors?” Maj asked.

  “I’ll dig into the bio material you’ve archived on Peter,” Matt said. “I thought maybe Mark and Andy could check into some of the online gamesites, places where Peter has been known to hang out.”