by Jeff Adams
“We’re only safe for a few minutes. I forced a reboot on the security system.”
That sounded like something I’d try, but I wouldn’t have expected Eddie to know how. I’d always been his tech support before.
“How are you even—”
“Dad was pissed Westside hauled me away, and he somehow got me released. He didn’t know I’ve been stealing his passwords. He uses the same few for everything, so it was easy to break into his computer and use his credentials to reset the system. Now come on. We can’t let them get away with what they’re trying to do.”
He’d managed to pull off a useful distraction. Although it might not have been the best time to do it.
“I still don’t know what the plan is. I can’t stop what I don’t know.”
“It’s not about you stopping it. I’m talking about the FBI or CIA or something.”
“You’ve no idea who to trust. If you go to those places, you could end up talking to somebody who is Blackbird. TOS had people inside many agencies.”
He looked frustrated, and I couldn’t blame him. We were spending too much time standing around. How long was it going to take for the system to reboot? And what if they sent somebody specifically to check on me?
“Westside seems to think he needs me to finish Override. If I walk away, they’ll just go after Mitch or someone again.”
Eddie sighed.
Maybe he hadn’t thought through everything. I certainly hadn’t.
“Look, if I take you to where the main computers are could you wipe them out?”
“Probably. Might take some time depending on the security involved.”
Eddie ran his hand over his head and looked like he might actually freak out. Whatever he knew he really didn’t like it.
“Tell me. We can figure out a plan.” I took his hand, hoping to calm him. “I have no doubt we can stop, or at least put a significant dent in the plan. I just need to know what it is.”
“They want to take full control of the internet. They’ve caused outages on and off over the past couple of days. They want to charge companies and governments to keep it operating. Can you imagine how messed-up everything will be?”
Could they have really come up with a reasonable way to control the entire internet? I could understand taking out parts of it, but there were so many redundancies built in over the years to prevent outages, it didn’t seem possible. If they could do that, shockwaves would go through every aspect of the economy and life as we knew it.
My understanding about the inner workings of the internet came from MIT and what I knew from TOS and how it used the net to monitor agents and network tech. Shutting the whole thing down or even controlling vast parts of it seemed impossible. Blackbird would’ve had to have come up with some impressive tech for that to work.
“Care to share what you’re thinking?” Eddie asked, snapping me back to the conversation. “I recognize that face.”
I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Sorry. Just working through the ramifications. I guess after years of trying to destabilize individual parts of the world and pockets of commerce, they’d try to go for something big.”
“We need to go.” Eddie looked jittery. “We need help. Unless you think you can stop this.”
“Same problem as before. I don’t know if I can stop it since I don’t know how they’re doing it. I’ve seen a couple of internet issues today. Obviously, those were Blackbird. But they seemed random and not something on the level that they’re trying to do. Maybe it’s not perfected yet.”
“Could that be why they want you?”
I was good at what I did. But taking over the net was beyond my skills. “You think we can get to my phone and computer?”
Eddie shook his head. “That’s risky. I assume it’s in Westside’s office.”
“What are our options? You know this place better than I do.”
Just like he recognized my thinking face, I recognized his.
“It’s late so there aren’t many people around,” he said. “He’s probably gone. But this seems like a really bad idea. Can’t we just go?”
“No. I need that stuff.”
“Does it have to be this hard?”
“You’d be amazed.” I grinned, and he raised an eyebrow. Nothing was ever as easy as it should be. “Let’s go.”
I took the steps two by two, and he kept pace right behind me. Before we got to the third floor my breath came in gasps. I shouldn’t be winded from that short burst.
The third floor was quiet.
Before we were halfway to Westside’s office, the loud snap of all the locks on the floor startled me.
“We’re outta time,” Eddie had a quiver of fear in his voice.
“We’ve got to go back downstairs.”
“What?” he asked in a shockingly loud voice.
“I can’t leave. You know that.” I grabbed his hand and pulled on him to head back to the stairs. “And it’ll get bad for both of us if we’re caught out here.”
“Fine.” He moved into resignation. “I’ve got a keycard, so I can get you back in.”
So much for getting my stuff.
We took off, which wasn’t easy. I shouldn’t be this sluggish. Even if dinner didn’t sit well, it was still protein and energy.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I DIDN’T want to wake up. If I didn’t open my eyes, maybe I could go back to sleep.
The dreams had been so good—hanging out with Eddie, playing hockey, and going to Disney World with my family, John, Eddie, and Henrik Zetterberg.
The dream made no sense. Especially hanging out with Zetterberg, who was super friendly and beyond cute in shorts and a Mickey Mouse tank top. He made sure we had Fast Passes for everything.
Also odd was that we’d never been to Disney. We’d thought about it a couple years ago, but we’d gone up to Maine and rented a cabin for a month the summer between my freshman and sophomore years. I’d freaked the first few days because there was no service up there, but then I kind of liked it—though I didn’t want to admit it. John came up for a week too. It’d been fun. I hadn’t been that unplugged and….
John.
We should’ve done more trips like that.
How did I just leave him on the floor?
Run.
His words echoed loudly.
I shuddered and then coughed. It felt like sandpaper in my mouth.
“Oh my God. You’re awake.” A chair scraped across the floor. As I focused Eddie came to me.
I fluttered open my eyes. Eddie?
It felt like I hadn’t moved in days, my muscles far tighter than expected. I knew I had been tired, but this was ridiculous.
What’d happened?
For a moment it was like waiting for a video to buffer with pixilation and choppy sound. The memory eventually cleared up—forcing out the dream.
The system had rebooted. We scrambled back down here and….
I had no idea.
Eddie parked himself on the very edge of the twin bed.
“You kinda got sick.” He must’ve seen my confusion. “Coming back downstairs you almost passed out, but I caught you.” He smiled a bit. “I’m back in lockdown because I tried to help you escape, but they don’t know how far we actually got. They know I hacked the security system and tasered the guard, but they don’t know we were upstairs. I told them I found you sick.”
How did this keep getting worse? I should’ve stayed in Disney World.
At least I knew why I’d felt weird after dinner.
“Am I okay?” I croaked out, shocked at how bad I sounded.
“Just a sec. Let me get you some water.”
He brought the chair over with a cup of water and straw.
“How long was I out?”
He positioned the cup and straw, so I could drink. It tasted good, so good. But I made sure to take it slow.
“That’s better. Thanks.” I sounded more like myself now. I tried to sit up, but Eddie put a han
d firmly on my chest before I got too far.
“Stay put. You’ve been out for about thirty-six hours. The doctor wants you to rest until she comes back tonight.”
I nodded and relaxed a bit. I could.
“So, anyway, the doctor said you were super dehydrated not to mention exhausted. They’ve been running IV fluids to get you fixed up. Of course, the sleep has been good for you too. Westside was convinced you tried to poison yourself to get out of this.”
I softly chuckled at the idea that I’d get sick on purpose. “Does that mean I get a doctor’s note, so I can go home?”
Eddie ran his hand through my hair, pushing some of it back from my forehead. It was a loving touch, one he’d done many times before. A sigh escaped before I could stop it.
“The best you’ll get is another day to rest.”
If Eddie heard the sigh, he didn’t respond to it. He continued stroking my hair, though, and a lump formed in my throat because of how it comforted me. Not only was it something he used to do when we were snuggled together but it reminded me of my mom because she always did this when I got sick. I probably shouldn’t be thinking of my boyfriend—or former boyfriend—and my mom at the same time, but I couldn’t help it.
“The doctor made it clear that you need time to for your body to recover. Westside griped that he expected better from an athlete, but she did a great job putting him in his place. I’m not sure if he was serious about someone making sure you drank enough once you were on your feet, but he did mention it.”
I sucked at this being on the run business.
At least I could use the recuperation time to consider my next step.
“How’d I end up with you watching over me?” I took one hand out from under the sheet and held his free hand.
“They decided someone should be in here full-time since the camera might not catch you getting worse. Since they were going to lock me up anyway, they decided it might as well be in here.” He dropped his hand from my head down to my chest, laying it across my heart. “You worried me. Sometimes you were babbling in your sleep—funnel cakes and Space Mountain. It made no sense. Anyway, you need to be more careful.”
Oh jeez.
I winced wondering what else I might have said.
“I thought I was just extra tired,” I said, ignoring the Disney references. “I didn’t know how bad it was until it was too late. You’d think I’d know better, even with all this crazy, to not let myself get so dried out.”
He offered a slight smile, and I returned it. In that moment, it felt like no time had passed. I loved him despite what he’d done, and being around him only amplified it, even if getting back with him might not be the best thing for me.
“Anyway, thank you. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have taking care of me.” That was the truth.
He leaned down and put a kiss on my cheek.
My stomach spoke up, breaking the moment. I hadn’t got too embarrassed before over the babbling, but my hunger growl caused the heat to rise in my face.
“Any chance I get some soup, maybe?”
Eddie got up and went to the door. “Chicken noodle or some of that nasty tomato stuff you like?”
The gleam in his eye was so familiar. I couldn’t let him woo me. Not when there were so many things at stake.
“I’ll go with the chicken noodle.”
He rapped on the door, and it opened. No one entered, but he reported that I was awake, coherent, and wanted food.
Eddie resumed his position in the chair and held my hand, which I squeezed.
This was so wrong. He’d sold me out, and I kept doing stupid things like holding his hand as if nothing had happened. Should I forgive that? My heart fluttered. Maybe we could mend us.
“You thinking about how to fix all this?”
He read me way too well, which was probably part of the problem. “I should be thinking about Override. Instead”—I held up our interlocked fingers—“I’m thinking about this.”
He tried to pull back, but I wouldn’t let him go.
“You’re kinda giving mixed messages.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to my confusion. What are we supposed to do about us?”
“Don’t you think we should figure out how to deal with the worldwide problem first?”
“Yeah, but the fact you’re here makes me wonder if Westside’s using you to keep a close eye on me. It looks like you’re trying to help….” I really didn’t know what else to say to him. I laid my cards on the table. He relaxed his hand as I held it.
He nodded but didn’t look upset. “I messed up big, and I can’t expect you to forgive me all at once.” He kept his eyes on mine, not turning away for even a moment. “I’ll do what I have to prove that you can trust me again. I’m not going to be forced into hurting you again.”
We stayed quiet for a moment as my hand flexed around his and his did the same in mine.
“Let’s talk about something easier. Do I have clothes somewhere?”
He grinned mischievously. “Maybe I convinced everyone that you need to work in just your boxers.” He darted his eyes between me and other points in the room—his typical embarrassed look. “I’ve missed that, you know, among all the other things I miss.”
I shook my head and smirked. “After everything, this is what you thought about?” I used my free hand to move the covers aside, so he could see my bare chest and a bit of boxers.
He nodded slowly. He probably didn’t know how perfect that response was. My pulse rose, and my heart got the fluttery feeling it always did when I got a flirty with Eddie.
“The doctor had us strip you because you’d gotten really sweaty. They’re in the bathroom to dry out.”
Gross. Those were going to be less than fun to put back on.
“I asked them to get you some clothes since you’re going to be here awhile. I knew you wouldn’t want to wear those until they were washed.”
Taking care of me like he always did. Another point in the “why Eddie should be trusted” column.
The door lock clicked, and it opened. Two women came in—one holding the door, standing guard, and another with a tray containing soup and Dr Pepper. My mouth watered as the chicken aroma wafted to me.
“There’s more soup if you need it,” the tray carrier said. “We didn’t know how much you’d eat. Westside wants to see you later this afternoon once you’ve got more strength. You’ll have new clothes in the next hour too.”
I nodded. No way could I say “thank you” to my captors.
Without a word they left. Once the door was closed, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoed through the room.
Eddie went to the desk and checked over the tray. This scene had played out a couple times in the past when one of us got sick. Last spring I’d brought him multiple vegetable beef servings from our favorite diner when his allergies got the better of him. Prior to that, he and John nearly drowned me in various assortments of soup when I’d gotten the cold from hell just after Thanksgiving.
That memory slammed me into a brick wall.
John was a trained agent, but he knew exactly how to take care of a kid. He got me through chicken pox when I was seven. I’d been a cranky, itchy patient but he made it better with all the right foods and a vat of lotion.
“You want it over there or do you want to eat here?” Eddie’s question snapped me back before I got lost in the grief.
I sighed softly. Looking over at him as he waited for my answer, my heart somersaulted again. Figuring him out might be more difficult than stopping Override. “It’ll do me good to get up, I think.”
I ignored the fact that I was in only boxers. Luckily the room was a comfortable temperature, so I slowly got up as he took the soup bowls off the tray—they’d brought him some too. At the foot of the bed, I spotted my hoodie and tossed that on, though I didn’t zip it.
For the first time in months, I got to have a meal with Eddie.
He’d done nothing here but hel
p me. Yet, as I sat down, the thought that bounced around my head featured me waking up out of a paralysis. He’d drugged my soda. I wanted so much to trust and love him. My agent side flared—just as it had when I had dinner with Westside—with a warning to be vigilant.
No!
With so much of my world upside down, I wanted to enjoy the simplicity of eating with Eddie. If it turned into a mistake, I’d deal with it later.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE MORE I ate the more I wanted it. I usually ate on a regular schedule. One of the first things I’d learned in hockey was the importance of fueling the body right, and I’d taken that serious for years.
It’d never occurred to me I could forget to drink enough water after years of being consistent. It was stupid I’d let something so simple sideline me.
The message icon flashed in my vision, and I coughed as I choked on the soup.
The phone’s charge was lasting above and beyond expectation. It had a high-performance battery and the fact that it was still going, proved it’d been designed right. It helped that the phone wasn’t doing much, but still—impressive.
“You okay?” Eddie looked ready to leap into action.
“Yeah, yeah. Just tried to inhale the soup, that’s all.”
While I wanted to trust him, he didn’t need to know everything. He offered a weak smile, no doubt knowing I hid something. He kept one eye on me as he went back to his food.
I opened the message.
Winger? It’s Locksmith.
No way. How could it be.
Locksmith, a.k.a. Dean, was a hacker who was also a student last year at McKinley. He’d been in the computer science club and played a major role in stopping the sale of an encrypted key. We’d become something between acquaintances and friends after that. I had no idea how he’d accessed the lenses, much less how he knew my codename.
D-Man is here with me.
Whoa! How did Coach know to track him down?
I struggled to show no reaction despite the excitement and relief. It pained me a bit to hold back since I really wanted to celebrate like I’d scored a goal.