Brainrush 04 - Everlast 01: Everlast (5 page)

J
IAOLONG HESITATED A MOMENT
while his eyes
adjusted to the dim lighting of the space. Lin was beside him. The beehive of
organized tension resembled the interior of a live broadcast control room. A
dozen techs manned computer stations along two rows of consoles facing a wall
that supported three large hi-def monitors above a double row of smaller
screens, where live feeds from field operations streamed in from around the
world. This was Jiaolong’s temporary nerve center, built for the purpose of
managing global operations once the Passcode program was complete, but tasked
now for managing the game against Jake Bronson.

They made their way to the elevated platform at the rear of
the room, where sister Zhin was engaged in an incisive discussion with the lead
engineer. She could be every bit as beautiful as Lin, Jiaolong thought, if not
for her sharp demeanor and determination to dress like a worker instead of a
woman. She cut her conversation short as they approached, her stern expression
melting for a brief moment as she exchanged a soft glance with her sister and a
bow to Jiaolong. She’d always regarded him with the utmost respect, though
sometimes her guarded expressions gave him pause.

He nodded and turned to the lead engineer. Like every other
worker in the operation, the man was dressed in the uniform of black slacks and
white shirt. Sister Zhin had insisted that the regimented attire was good for
overall discipline. No one dared complain.

“Status?” Jiaolong asked.

The man snapped to attention with near military precision
and Jiaolong wondered if Zhin’s tactics were embedded a bit too deeply. Even
so, he couldn’t argue with the results.

“As you know, Dr. Finnegan’s man, Timmy, is in custody,” the
lead engineer, known as PakMaster, reported. Like everyone else in the
room—with the exception of Jiaolong and the sisters—the engineer went by his
online username. “He remains under sedation.”

 “And the others?”

“Operations commenced simultaneously fifteen minutes ago.”

Jiaolong glanced at the row of clocks above the display
screens, each one set to a time zone where a target was located. The local time
was 4:15 a.m. It was 1:15 p.m. in Los Angeles.

  “Bronson’s wife has been taken,” Pak said quickly.

Jiaolong nodded, ignoring for the moment that Pak hadn’t started
with the status of Bronson himself.

“And the children will be in hand shortly,” Pak added. “In
the meantime, our Australian team captured Squadron Leader Becker and Operator
Jones without incident, and Team Three acquired target Tony Johnson. The latter
didn’t go down easily. One of our men was killed and two others were seriously
injured. The video footage is grim.”

Jiaolong wasn’t surprised by the news. The Australians had
been taken while they slept in the predawn hours in Darwin, but it had been the
middle of the day in Los Angeles and Johnson—LAPD SWAT sergeant and one of
Bronson’s closest friends—was a formidable man. Jiaolong looked forward to
viewing the recording of the takedown, captured by the wearable computers and
cameras he required all the field operatives to wear, an essential leash since
some of the field teams included conscripts who had been pressed into service.

Pak drew a breath before continuing and Jiaolong noticed a
shadow of concern skip across the man’s features.

“An unexpected military deployment has caused a delay in
acquiring the V22 pilot Cal Springman and his copilot Kenny. We are tracking
them en route to Antarctica, but it will require a significant amount of
additional resources to intercept them. That can be done, of course, but
commandeering an additional abduction team on such short notice increases the
risk of exposure.”

 “The two pilots are nonessential,” Zhin interjected. “They can
be eliminated.”

Jiaolong adjusted the pieces on the imaginary Go game board
in his mind, weighing the risks against the ultimate goal. The two men still
had minor roles to play, but perhaps their deaths could serve the same purpose.
Shooting an aircraft out of the sky, however, would complicate the plan exponentially.
He’d ignore them for now.

A player’s focus on localized conflict must not distract
from the broader landscape of the board.

“We will hold off until it’s more convenient,” he said,
growing concerned that a mention of Jake Bronson had yet to enter Pak’s report.
The man’s forehead displayed a faint sheen of perspiration.

Pak glanced quickly at sister Zhin, then licked his lips and
turned back to Jiaolong. “Bronson has eluded us,” he said finally.

 The buzz in the room dropped a notch, and several of the
techs cast worried glances in Jiaolong’s direction. The news was disquieting, but
Jiaolong maintained his composure. He turned to Zhin.

She explained, “The couple we had at Area 52 showed up
unexpectedly to warn Bronson that we were coming for him.”

That news
did
rock him, and he felt Lin sidle closer
as if to settle him. He considered the ramifications. Eloise and the professor
had originally been recruited because of their friendship with Jiaolong’s grandfather,
which had been engendered when all three of them were active members of the
Order. They believed in his grandfather’s cause at Everlast and had been happy
to help in advancing the science. But it was their unexpected knowledge of the
events on the island that had captured Jiaolong’s interest and sent him on his
current crusade. The couple had unwittingly revealed the identity of the
so-called Brainman and the other players who had been responsible for the
destruction of the island and the murder of Jiaolong’s idol, Victor Brun.

And my parents.

Zhin said, “We have eliminated the professor and are in
pursuit—”

“No harm must come to Mr. Bronson,” Jiaolong said.

“Of course,” Zhin said. “The team is aware of that
restriction. But the chase ended badly for them.” She motioned toward the video
wall. Pak entered a command on his console and a recording of the final moments
of the car chase filled the center screen.

Jiaolong watched from the point of view of the driver of the
SUV. It was gaining speed on a tree-studded road when it was hit from the side
by another vehicle that had appeared out of nowhere. The camera view jerked
violently and Jiaolong caught a brief glimpse of a wild-eyed Jake Bronson at
the wheel of the other car, with Eloise and her boss, Dr. Albert Finnegan,
huddled behind him. Then the cars careened across the road, over a ridge, and
an instant later the SUV flipped on its back and the camera view turned upside
down as the vehicle rocketed down the slope. The helpless driver’s view shifted
to one side and for a brief moment the video revealed Bronson’s Mustang
wheeling down the hill in controlled turns. Moments later the terrified shouts
from the SUV’s occupants were strangled short when the vehicle crashed into the
trees and an explosion blackened the screen.

“We have confirmed that Bronson and his two friends
survived. They fled the scene in a different car. They discarded their phones
so we cannot track them.”

Despite his anger at the unexpected turn of events, Jiaolong
couldn’t help but smile. “We knew he was resourceful,” he said with admiration,
one side of his mind planning his next move while another drifted to the
history between Eloise and Bronson. They’d met on the island, at which point
Eloise professed to have seen a different side to the Order’s plan, one that
she and the professor could not condone. They’d befriended Bronson and his team
and they all had escaped together before the catastrophic conflagration.

His mind moved toward a solution to this new wrinkle,
enjoying the challenge. He was in his element, analyzing the changing game
board—Bronson was on the run with Finnegan and Eloise, the doctor with access
to resources that could prove troublesome. But Bronson would undoubtedly
disallow contacting the authorities, wanting to stay off grid until he found
his family and friends. Eloise’s knowledge was limited to Jiaolong’s grandfather’s
research at Everlast. She knew nothing about Spider or Passcode, or his
operations here in Hong Kong. But she was angry. The men who had taken Timmy
had been surprised when she and the professor showed up unexpectedly, and the
team had reported the couple objected heartily to the abduction. He’d
discounted it at the time. After all, they were allies with much to lose if their
clandestine involvement was revealed, and as far as they knew this was all
being done on behalf of his ailing grandfather. But he had been mistaken to
trust their silence, and Zhin was right to order their deaths. Of course,
failing to kill both of them was a problem. The death of the professor would
seal Eloise’s anger against them, and she would reveal everything she knew,
which meant—

He snorted, realizing she would unknowingly lead Bronson right
into Jiaolong’s hands.

I’m still five moves ahead of you, Mr. Bronson.

J
AKE WAS FURIOUS
with himself. After everything
that had happened in the past several years—the terminal diagnosis, the MRI
accident, battling terrorists, and even nearly triggering the extinction of the
human race—he’d gotten lost, lured by the dream of a normal life. He should
have known better. Life would never be easy for him. He’d made enemies, and the
people he loved were once again at risk because he’d let down his guard. He
swore that if given the chance, he would never repeat that mistake.

Ever.

A familiar regret swept through him.

If I’d died, they would all be safe.

At least he and his friends had found the sense to put
together an emergency plan, he thought, praying his children had followed
instructions. He glanced in the backseat of the Land Rover. Eloise was still
unconscious and being tended to by Doc. He’d bandaged her wounds and she was
breathing evenly.

Fifteen minutes had passed since they’d left Brentwood and
the helpful couple who’d loaned them the vehicle. Sirens had sounded in the
distance as they drove off, and he hoped the home would be saved from the
spreading fire.

Their first stop had been at a drugstore to purchase a
first-aid kit and several throwaway phones, including one smartphone. His
credit cards could be tracked so he’d spent all his cash and some of Doc’s on
the purchases. He’d already broken protocol as they escaped the VA campus when
he asked Doc to use his phone to try reaching Jake’s family. The second breach
of protocol came when Jake had used one of the burner phones to call everyone
on the emergency list. When no one had answered, he’d ditched it in the drugstore
parking lot and taken off fast. Even unanswered calls could be tracked with the
proper expertise and equipment.

Four blocks later, he pulled over and used the smartphone to
log on to the secure site that Marshall had created as part of their escape
plan. It was an essential element of the protocol—to check in at the website to
coordinate meeting up. Jake navigated to the site, entered the chat-room
password, and his face went slack with shock.

The page was blank.

He stared at the screen, its image blurred through a swell
of despair. How could it be that none of the thirteen people on the list had
answered their phones or checked in at the site? Where was his family? Or Tony?
Or Cal and Kenny? And what about Becker in Australia and Marshall and Lacey in
Rome? Had they all been attacked simultaneously? The resources required to pull
that off would have been incredible. Who the hell was after them? And why? It
was almost too much to bear, even after the insurmountable challenges he’d
faced down in the past. But a rush of hope cleared his thoughts. His family was
resourceful and they had a plan of their own in case all hell broke loose.

He entered a brief message on the site, saying he was alive
and on the run. Then he steered the Land Rover back into traffic and sped
toward the South Bay.

They were less than a block away from the Redondo Beach Pier
when Jake saw the first set of flashing emergency lights. He pulled over and
turned off the motor, his insides twisting.

 “Give me five minutes,” he said, getting out of the car.
“If I’m not back by then, get the hell out of here.” He turned and raced down
the parking ramp. He spotted the distant crowds as soon as he exited onto the
lower boardwalk, his heart racing faster than his feet as he sprinted past the
restaurants and shops and fishing boats, toward the cordoned-off throng
surrounding the arcade. Several emergency vehicles were parked nearby.
Paramedics pushed a gurney toward an ambulance; the adult male victim had a
breathing cup over his mouth. Another pair of techs huddled over a figure
sprawled on the ground inside the arcade.

Jake shouldered through the gawkers to get a better look,
stopping at the line imposed by several police officers. One of the EMTs
shifted and Jake saw that the body on the ground belonged to an Asian man who appeared
to be cut from the same cloth as those who had attacked him at the hospital. A
pool of blood shimmered beside the body.

“What happened here?” he asked the woman standing next to him.

“Not sure. It was about forty minutes ago. I was at Naja’s
and heard a gunshot.”

“Two gunshots,” someone else said.

“I don’t think the guy they’re taking away in the ambulance
was shot,” a third person offered. “But he was out cold.”

Jake searched the scene. There were no signs of his family,
but he noticed a teenage boy being interviewed by two detectives. The kid had
shaggy blond hair and wore board shorts and flip-flops. Jake sidled over to get
within earshot.

“There were three of them,” the shirtless teen said. “They
all had backpacks. The older one fought them hard. I don’t know his name, but I
recognized him. He likes to surf the cove. He kinda looks Middle Eastern.”

Jake stopped breathing. The teen had to be speaking about
Ahmed.

The kid continued, “The girl’s scream brought Scott—he’s the
arcade manager—charging from the back. He slammed into the asshole holding the
gun. They went rolling and the pistol came free. That’s when the older kid
grabbed it and shot the man. Boom, boom. Two shots to the chest like he’d been
doing it his whole life. But he had to drop the gun when one of the other guys
held a knife against the little kid’s throat. The girl stopped fighting, Scott
got clubbed over the head, and the Asian dudes shoved all three kids into the
van and took off.”

Jake’s heart sank. The fact that Francesca wasn’t here
suggested she’d been taken as well, probably right after she sent out the alert
message.

There was a commotion around the cop cars and one of the
uniformed officers rushed over to the two detectives. “They found the van at
LAX,” he reported. “At one of the private terminals.”

The airport? They could be anywhere.

Jake shrank back into the crowd, his eyes panning for
threats. Someone might have spotted him already. He ducked into the shadows of
the parking garage and raced for the exit.

 Jake ran, slowing only long enough to call a buddy who
worked in air traffic control at LAX.

“I need a favor,” he said, and then explained what he was
looking for.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” his friend said.

Jake ended the call and picked up his pace.

How can I possibly find them on my own?

Ever since he’d avoided direct contact with the tiny alien
pyramid he’d found years earlier, his superfast reflexes had disappeared. His
ability to communicate telepathically with his family had degraded as well. He
was still able to influence thoughts and emotions to some extent in others,
like he did with patients at the VA, and his enhanced memory and cognitive
abilities were as strong as ever. The retention of those talents had been more
than he could’ve hoped for, and more than he’d required in the relative peace
of the past eighteen months. But now everything had changed and he needed every
edge available to him.

Regardless of the cost.

He slid into the car. Eloise was still unconscious, her head
resting on Doc’s lap.

“They’ve got my kids,” Jake said, pulling away from the
curb.

“Dear God,” Doc gasped. “What are we going to do?”

Good question, Jake thought, but first things first.

He needed to stop at the house.

Five minutes later, Jake parked the car one street over from
his house and then approached on foot from the rear alley. A scan from the
neighbor’s side yard confirmed there was no apparent activity in his home, so
he climbed over the wall and slipped through the back door into the family room.
The house was quiet. The modest furnishings hadn’t been disturbed and he felt a
pang of loss as he flashed on the relaxed evening the family had shared the
night before: catching up with one another over a simple meal, watching TV, a
tickle fight on the couch.

Ducking to avoid being seen through the front picture window,
he made his way up the staircase and headed straight for the safe hidden
beneath the cedar floorboards in his closet, thankful that Francesca had never
discovered its presence. It was his secret place, kept from everyone. The cash,
false ID docs, and disguise kit hidden within would provide him with the means
to get off grid, and the ampoules, hypodermics, and other specialty items would
give him an edge. But it was the miniature pyramid that would make him
unstoppable—at least for a while.

Before fleeing the Order’s island complex a year and a half
ago, he’d plucked the “mini” from the elaborate chair-with-skullcap that had
linked his son to the grid of pyramids threatening the planet. He’d kept its
presence a secret from everyone, letting them believe it had been destroyed in
the conflagration, knowing that knowledge of its existence would spawn disaster.
He also remembered all too well how he’d become addicted to it years ago,
relishing the way it had supercharged his abilities while being unaware of the
dire consequences to his body. It had killed him. The government had revived
him long enough to replace his failed heart, but for six years they’d been
unable to bring him out of the resultant coma.

Yes, taking the mini had been a risk and he’d second-guessed
his action a dozen times—until he’d discovered that his last encounter with the
Grid and the alien pyramids had changed his brain in ways he still didn’t
understand, linking him to the device forever. Excessive exposure would kill
him, but zero exposure could be worse.

Without its trickle charge...

Suppressing a shudder, he pushed the thought away. In any
case, it wasn’t likely that he’d ever have to face that fear. In order to save
his family, he planned to fully embrace the mini’s power.

He’d tap its strength until his final breath.

He pried up the floorboards, entered the combination, and
opened the safe.

The mini was gone.