Brainrush 03 - Beyond Judgment (47 page)

Victor bolted past them. “Help Hans,” he ordered. “No one leaves alive!”

Jake’s right hand came free, and Alex tumbled to one side just as Hans lunged forward with the switchblade. Jake snapped his free hand in a whip-fast knuckle strike to the nerve bundle on the inside of Hans’s forearm. The German recoiled but held on to the knife. He maneuvered to Jake’s opposite side and cocked his arm.

Grid Countdown: 0h:42m:00s and Holding

The Island
6:51 a.m.

F
RANCESCA LET OUT
a long-held breath. They’d made it inside. Other than the two security guards who’d passed a wand over each of them when they had first stepped off the boat, no one had paid them particular attention. There were dozens of people around them. They seemed to be as relieved as she was to have made it past the massive blast doors. An intermittent alarm sounded over the public address system. A woman’s voice announced that the door would be closing in fifteen minutes.

People hurried toward a bank of elevators down the corridor. Francesca, Lacey, and Ahmed followed. They wore the casual traveling outfits taken from the three Order members who’d been on the thirty-five-foot cruiser. Francesca cringed when she recalled the video of the Australian soldiers hijacking the boat. One of the occupants had made the mistake of firing at the operators. It was a woman. She’d been killed. According to her papers, she was a surgeon from Madrid.

Now Francesca wore clothes taken from the woman’s suitcase. The RFID chip that had been embedded under the woman’s
Cæli Regere
tattoo was taped to her shoulder. Lacey posed as her
sister. The actress was unrecognizable. Her hair was bunned, her clothes were padded, and she wore thick glasses and creative makeup. She’d transformed herself into a plump and dowdy schoolteacher. Ahmed had replaced the doctor’s fourteen-year-old son. The role was a stretch, especially in light of Ahmed’s emotional growth in the past few days. But he’d embraced it. The real sister and son were trussed up onboard the yacht.

Francesca had been frightened to the bone at the prospect of attempting the infiltration. But she hadn’t hesitated. Neither had Lacey. They were the only women available. So there was no other choice. And Ahmed had to accompany them if the ruse was to have any chance of success. The brave teen’s only regret was that he hadn’t been able to bring his new assault rifle along.

Pushing back a wave of nerves, Francesca steeled her resolve. The people in these corridors had assaulted her home, shot her father, killed her friends, and kidnapped her children. She would do whatever was necessary to find them and help Jake. She marched toward the elevators.

They were three paces past the information kiosk when Ahmed stopped them. He seemed to be eavesdropping on a conversation between a stern-looking couple and an attendant behind the counter.

Lacey took the abrupt halt in stride, straightening the collar on Ahmed’s shirt like an attentive aunt preparing her nephew for his first day at prep school. “Oh, you’ll be fine, darling. Sometimes it’s fun being the new kid.” Under her breath she added, “What are you doing?”

The woman was in her element, Francesca thought. Not only was she a consummate actress, she also had a calm confidence born from a lifetime of martial arts training from her sensei father.

“Too many ears to explain,” Ahmed whispered. “Just follow my lead.” He stepped up to the information counter.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” Ahmed said in an imitation of a distressed fourteen-year-old. His outburst interrupted the attendant.

“One moment, young man,” she said. “You’ll have to wait your turn.”

“Nooo!” Ahmed exclaimed. His face was beet red. He looked like he was about to cry. He’d reverted to mannerisms from his childhood. “I need to find my uncle!” His voice was choked.

Francesca was so taken aback by his instant transformation that she didn’t know what to do. Lacey was another matter. She placed a hand on Ahmed’s shoulder. “It’s okay, dear,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye with a trembling hand. “I’m sure he made it.”

“Pleeease!” Ahmed said. “They’re going to close the doors!”

The couple beside them was annoyed by the exchange. The woman placed her hands on her hips. She didn’t hide her disapproval. The man with her seemed to share her feelings.

Francesca stepped forward. “I’m so sorry,” she said to the couple. “He already lost his father.” Then she turned to Ahmed. “Please, son. We’re next—”

“He should know better,” the woman scolded.

“No, no, no!” Ahmed said, smacking his palms on the counter. “He promised he’d be here. But if you close the doors, he can’t get in. That’s not fair. Is he here or isn’t he? Why can’t you just—”

“Quiet down!” the man said.

“I won’t! I won’t, I—”

“Oh, just look it up and be done with it,” the woman said. She looked like she wanted to smack the kid.

The flustered attendant nodded. She placed her hands over her computer keyboard and gave Francesca an expectant stare. Francesca’s heart dropped. What was she supposed to say?

The attendant narrowed her eyes. “His name?”

“Uncle Augie,” Ahmed spit out. “Oh, I mean August Schmidt.” He crossed his arms on the counter and leaned forward like an anxious child waiting for a gelato.

The brilliance of Ahmed’s plan enveloped Francesca like the sweet smell of jasmine in the courtyard of her home in Venice. He’d remembered the name of the man from whose body they’d dug out the original RFID chip. Tony had referred to him as Pit Bull.

Jake had taken the chip with him.

“Level three,” the attendant said. “Room three seventeen.” After a beat, her posture stiffened. “Oh, he’s with Mr. Brun.”

Francesca’s insides cartwheeled.

“He’s here!” Ahmed proclaimed, staying in character. He spun around and took both Francesca’s and Lacey’s hands. “Let’s go!”

As he led them toward the elevators, Francesca collected herself enough to look over her shoulder and mouth her thank-you to the couple.

The woman huffed. The man shook his head in disgust.

Four minutes later, they were outside the room. There was an electronic keypad beside the door.

“Now what?” Francesca asked.

“Simple,” Lacey said. “Let me do the talking.” She cocked her fist to pound on the door. But a deep rumble beneath them stayed her hand.

It sounded as if there was a series of explosions deep in the mountain. The vibration under their feet felt like the aftershock of an earthquake. The lights went out, a gunshot sounded from the other side of the door, and a voice shouted, “Kill them all!”

Francesca trembled. A knot of fear tightened in her stomach.

A seesaw alarm sounded, and an emergency light opposite the doorway flashed on. The door swung open. Francesca and Ahmed lurched backward.

Lacey stood her ground. Light spilled past her into the room. Victor Brun stood before them. He squinted at the sudden brightness, and Francesca averted her face so he wouldn’t recognize her.

“Mr. Brun!” Lacey shouted without skipping a beat. Her voice was filled with authority. Her backlit form would appear as no more than a plump silhouette to Brun. She motioned him forward. “This way!”

“Help Hans,” Victor ordered as he rushed past them. “No one leaves alive!”

“
Jawohl, Mein Herr
,” Lacey growled. She charged into the room. Ahmed and Francesca were right behind.

The seconds that followed stretched into an eternity.

Light from the corridor emergency lamp spilled into the room. Jake was strapped to a chair. One hand was free. A man hulked in front of him. He held a knife. Lacey slid across the linoleum floor feet first, her heel striking the man at the ankle. He toppled, but he maintained his grip on the knife. Ahmed stomped on the man’s stomach, but it didn’t faze him. He swung the blade at the teen. As Ahmed jumped clear, the burly guard twisted around and kicked. The blow sent Ahmed flying into the shadows.

Jake was fumbling with the strap at his wrist as Alex watched wide-eyed from behind the chair. The German pushed to his feet and approached. But Lacey was already up. She surged forward with a vicious snap kick to the groin. But the brute only grunted. He advanced on her with the knife. By then Francesca was on her knees, working on Jake’s ankle restraint. He was unbuckling his other foot. Sarafina screamed, and Francesca turned to see Lacey on her back, the German on top of her, the knife held in the air like an ice pick.

The three gunshots sounded like claps of thunder. The German twisted and lurched with the impact of each slug. The knife fell from his grasp. He folded to one side and lay still. Blood pooled from beneath him. Lacey grabbed the knife and scrambled to her feet. The tail of an elastic Ace bandage spilled from under her blouse. The gauze padding it had secured to plump her appearance was cockeyed.

Ahmed stepped from the shadows. He held the pistol in a two-handed grip. Smoke curled from the barrel. His hands were steady.

Francesca sensed no fear from him.

Jake helped her to her feet, and she rushed to pick up Alex. She peeled the tape from his mouth and squeezed her son to her chest, feeling the beat of his heart racing at double speed. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, then pointed to his tablet. It had fallen on the floor beside his chair. Lacey picked it up and tucked it into the holster clipped to Alex’s belt. Then she used the knife to cut his wrist cuffs. She did the same for Sarafina, who’d already removed the duct tape from her own lips. She rushed to join her mother and brother.

Ahmed handed the pistol to Jake. They fist-bumped. “A-are you all right?” Ahmed asked, pointing to the ugly slash across Jake’s bare chest.

“Thanks to you, I am,” Jake said.

Lacey yanked the stuffing from around her midriff and pressed it against Jake’s wound. He winced at the contact. He held the gauze in place while she wound the Ace bandage around his chest to secure it. When she was finished, he grabbed his shirt and put it on. Then he pulled Ahmed into a one-armed hug.

“You can fly on my wing anytime,” Jake said.

“Mine, too,” Lacey said, planting a huge kiss on Ahmed’s cheek.

Jake crouched, and Sarafina charged over and threw her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d come,” she said. “I just knew it.”

“I always will, honey,” Jake said. “But right now we gotta get out of here.”

“I know,” Sarafina said. “But first we have to gather the rest of the children.”

Francesca felt Jake swell with pride at Sarafina’s sense of duty. Francesca felt the same. When Alex added his nod to the
conversation, she realized that this was the family she had always dreamed about.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Jake said. He held out his hands, and Francesca passed Alex to him. Jake used his free hand to pull Francesca into a quick kiss. It took her breath away. The glance that passed between them spoke volumes.

Everyone stacked up behind Jake at the door. But before he opened it, he looked into the eyes of his son and said, “Do you even have the slightest idea how awesome you are? You saved my life with your quick thinking. I’m so proud of you, I can barely stand it!”

Alex beamed. His lips parted in a crooked smile, and he spoke for the first time in his life. “Yippee-ki-yay, Daddy.”

Grid Countdown: 0h:42m:00s and Holding

The Island
7:00 a.m.

A
LEX’S WORDS BROUGHT
a grin to Jake’s face. Francesca gasped. So did Sarafina, Ahmed, and Lacey. It was the first time any of them had heard the boy’s voice.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Jake said, positioning Alex so that he wasn’t pressed against the wound on his chest. He didn’t wait for an answer. They had to get moving. After confirming that the coast was clear, he moved out, leading with the pistol. The corridor seemed considerably warmer than earlier. Apparently, the power outage was having an impact.

The emergency lights were few and far between. Long shadows were separated by dim pools of light. Jake moved quickly. He still wore the blue security uniform. Francesca and the rest of them stuck close behind him.