Cyber Dawn (A Ben Raine Novel) (25 page)

At midnight, I pulled Sarah’s Honda into the Foothills Mall parking lot. I parked near the same spot we parked earlier in the day. It provided a good view of the mall’s main entrance, which would give me notice when Detective Frost and Sarah arrived.

After waiting ten minutes, I started to feel anxious. I was about to dial Frost again when a pair of headlights flashed across the windshield. A brown sedan, which I recognized from Monday night, entered the parking lot from the other side. It pulled up to me, facing in the opposite direction.

I glanced through my window and could see Frost behind the wheel. But it was who I didn’t see that made me nervous. Other than Frost, the car appeared empty.

The detective rolled down his window and motioned for me to do the same.

I did, then said, “Where’s Sarah?”

“Hi, Benjamin,” Frost said. “I know you’re angry, but let me explain.”

My heart started beating fast.
Please tell me she’s okay.

“Something . . . strange happened,” he continued. “Which is why I’m here talking to you and not back at the station.”

“What happened? Where is she!?”

It took him a moment to answer. “The FBI has her.”

“The . . . FBI?”

“About two hours after she came to the police station, they arrived and took her. They had the right paperwork. There was nothing I could do.”

“But . . . why?” I stammered. “How did they even know she was there?”

Frost paused and slowly shook his head. “To be honest, Ben, I don’t know. The FBI shouldn’t even be involved.”

My shoulders slumped and I looked around the empty parking lot. My excitement at seeing Sarah and handing off the proof quickly faded, replaced by exhaustion and a fear that I’d never see her again. The only thought that kept me from breaking down was that, at least, she was now safe.

“Look, Ben, I know you didn’t kill Sofia. And while I’m having a hard time believing Sarah’s story about Ms. Reynolds and CyberLife, it’s almost too crazy to be made up. Can I see this proof?”

I reached behind and pulled my bag off the back seat. Just then, two vehicles raced into the parking lot. I squinted and out of the corner of my eye, saw Frost turn around to look at them as well.

My tracking sphere plotted ten new targets. All of them clustered around the SUVs moving quickly toward us.

CyberLife!

I reached down to throw the car into drive. As I did, the vehicles split and flashed blue emergency lights. Before I, or even Frost, could do anything, two black Chevy Tahoes pulled up and boxed me in.

“Damnit, Benjamin,” Frost said. “It’s the FBI. I’m sorry.”

40

“Detective Frost,” the man said. “I’m disappointed. I thought we instructed you to contact us immediately if Mr. Raine called?”

“That was next on my list, Agent DiMaria.”

The agent narrowed his eyes. “Well, the FBI certainly appreciates your help tracking down Mr. Raine. Detective, you can leave now.”

Without another word, Agent DiMaria turned and looked through the window at me. “Mr. Raine, my name is Agent Vince DiMaria. I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Please turn your vehicle off and step outside.”

When I didn’t act right away, DiMaria waved at the other agents, who had already fanned out around Sarah’s car. Each of them pulled out a black pistol and aimed it at me. I swallowed hard and glanced at my HUD. The white dots turned red.

“Okay, okay,” I said.

As I climbed out, I glanced at Frost. The detective said, “I’m sorry Ben,” then pulled away.

“Let’s go, Mr. Raine. There is no need to make this hard.”

I hesitated.

“Look at it this way,” DiMaria said. “At least you get to reunite with your little girlfriend. She’s a real pain in the butt, by the way.”

“You have Sarah?” I asked.

DiMaria nodded.

Two of the agents holstered their weapons and walked over. After frisking me, they put my wrists in flexicuffs and led me to the second SUV. I stared at DiMaria. His smile disappeared.

“What am I being charged with?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

The two agents forced me into the back of the SUV. As I climbed in, my heart skipped a beat. Seated in the back, next to a female FBI agent, was Sarah. She turned to me and grinned. I let out a sigh and actually felt some relief. We were in trouble, but at least she was okay. And now we had the chance to tell the FBI what we learned about CyberLife.

I slid across the seat next to Sarah. Our legs pressed together as another agent climbed in and shut the door. With four of us in the back of the Tahoe, it was a tight fit.

I turned and faced the new agent. He was young and had short-cropped blond hair. He smiled, and said, “Agent Garret James.” He then leaded forward and nodded at the female agent opposite Sarah. “Agent Lauren Cessna.”

I nodded back, then turned to Sarah. “You okay,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Success?”

“Success,” I said.

Through the Tahoe’s windshield, I watched as several agents rooted around Sarah’s car. One of them handed my canvas bag to DiMaria, who then climbed into the front seat of our SUV and told the driver to go.

“You’re not being charged . . . yet,” DiMaria said, finally answering my question. He turned to face us from the front seat. “Like I told Ms. Evans earlier, you’re better off not saying anything.”

“If we’re not being charged,” Sarah asked. “Why all the trouble?”

DiMaria ignored her, and added, “Not until we track down your parents.”

I didn’t bother telling him my parents were out of town. I wondered if Sarah’s mom would be meeting us at the FBI office once we arrived.

“How did you even find out about us?” I asked.

“Anonymous tip.”

“Anonymous tip?”

DiMaria’s face hardened. “Look you two, all I know is that my boss called me at home while I was having dinner with my family. Tells me some science-fiction story about hackers and cyborgs, and orders me to drive up here and pick her up.” He nodded at Sarah. “Then word comes down they want you, too.”

“Like I’ve said a dozen times,” Sarah said. “It’s not science fiction.”

DiMaria scowled at her. I recalled what he said earlier.

Pain in the butt.

I grinned.

“Sure, right, kid. He’s a cyborg. CyberLife Industries is some evil company killing its employees. Sounds like sci-fi to me. If it was up to me, I’d call your parents and send you home. But my boss told me to bring you in, so that’s what I’m doing.”

The Tahoe was silent for several minutes as we drove east across town to the highway. I glanced at the agent seated next to me, who seemed to be spending a lot of time staring at the tear near my knee.

Seeing an opening, I said, “I’ll show you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Show me what?”

“That I’m a cyborg.”

“Better keep quiet, kid,” he whispered. “The boss is in a real bad mood tonight.”

DiMaria shook his head. “Watch it, James.” He turned to me. “You sure are persistent, kid.”

I shrugged.

After a long pause, Agent DiMaria said, “Go ahead, James, roll his pant leg up. Let’s see the cyborg leg the princess was telling us about.”

“Sir?” James asked.

“Just do it, Garrett.”

The young agent nodded and bent down. He grabbed the cuff of my jeans and slid my pant leg up. After staring for a few seconds, he reached out and stuck his finger into the tear below my knee. A few moments later, he slowly looked up at me, eyes wide. “I dunno, boss,” he said to DiMaria. “I think he’s telling the truth. Look at this.”

DiMaria turned, an angry expression on his face. He looked down at my leg and spotted the tear in the synthetic skin. “What happened?”

“I got shot,” I replied flatly. “By a robot.”

“Right,” DiMaria said with a laugh.

Next to me, Sarah tensed. “I’m okay,” I whispered.

James reached out and continued to probe the tear in my skin. Eventually he pulled his hand out, holding a smashed piece of metal between his fingers. “He might not be lying,” he said. “Found a slug.”

DiMaria stared at the slug, then at me. He was about to say something when his phone rang. He held a finger to his lips.

While DiMaria talked, I turned to Sarah. The corner of her lip curled up and she shrugged. I shrugged back and made eye contact with the female agent seated next to her. She had shoulder-length blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a sharp, serious-looking face.

Agent James nudged me on the arm, and said, “That’s a pretty cool leg, kid. How’d you get it?”

Corporate greed
, I thought. “Cancer,” I said aloud. “When I was eleven.”

“That sucks, man. Sorry.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“I was in the Army before I joined the FBI,” he said. “Couple of my buddies got legs like that one.” He nodded at my knee.

Not quite like this one,
I thought to myself.

I looked past James and out the side window. We were almost to the highway. I glanced at my tracking sphere and spotted two groups of dots, one in the center of the sphere where I was, and the other about fifty yards ahead in the lead vehicle. Other white dots appeared on occasion as we passed the occasional car on the road. At almost one in the morning, traffic was light.

My network detection log flashed.

I glanced at the message just as a box on my HUD appeared and displayed a 3D image of a strange looking aircraft. It had a narrow body, a large bulbous nose, and long skinny wings. At the back of the aircraft was a spinning propeller. Two menacing-looking missiles hung under the wings. Next to the picture was a description.

I stared at the image, then turned to Sarah and whispered. “Hey, you know what a Reaper is?”

She shrugged. “Like the dude wearing black and carrying a scythe?”

“Shut up, you two,” the female agent said. “No talking.”

“Lighten up, Lauren,” Agent James said. “What’d you say kid?”

“Reaper. Was wondering what a Reaper is.”

James frowned. “Why?”

“You know what it is?” I asked.

“Yeah sure,” he said. “Military drone. Flies high in the sky and spies on terrorists. Kills them, too.”

“Why would there be one here?”

Both agents laughed.

James said, “There wouldn’t be. You’re watching the news too much. Lots of drones flying around nowadays, but not Reapers. Those are military only. And the military wouldn’t be flying drones around here.”

Just then Agent DiMaria hung up his phone and spoke to the driver. “Turn it around, Doug. We’re not going to HQ.”

“Sir?”

“Head down County Road 11. It’s just up ahead. We’re meeting Dreessen’s team and handing the kids over.”

“Sir?” The driver repeated.

“Wolfe, just do it. Radio the other Tahoe and tell him to take the next exit.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Why are you handing us off?” Sarah asked.

“None of your business,” DiMaria snapped.

I turned to James. “Is this normal?”

The agent frowned and shook his head. “Not really.”

Taking another glance at the 3D image of the Reaper, I said, “Agent DiMaria, something is wrong. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Think about it. Why would they hand us over already? Who called it in?”

DiMaria laughed. “You sure are nosey, kid. Denver operations called it in. Not that that means anything to you.”

I pressed hard into Agent James as the SUV quickly turned left and headed down a dark country road. I probably didn’t have any reason to worry. It was the FBI after all. But right now, my gut was telling me something was wrong.

Sarah pressed her leg and shoulder into mine. I slid my hands, which were still tied behind my back, as far over as possible. She did the same and we held hands the best we could. Her touch felt reassuring. And it gave me an idea.

On the hunt for more information, I hacked DiMaria’s smart phone and traced the previous call. The trace bounced around multiple cell phone towers and ended up routing through servers scattered all over the United States. Eventually it stopped at an IP address registered to a data center in Seattle.

“I don’t think that call was from your ops center in Denver,” I said. “It originated from a computer in the Seattle area.”

DiMaria turned to me and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable, kid,” he said. “Let’s just say for a minute I believe that you’re capable of hacking my phone. What you’re saying wouldn’t happen. Ops
is
in Denver. The Caller ID and the auth code they provided were correct, too.” He turned his phone so I could see the call log. It read:
DENVER OPS.

“No,” I said. “Trust me. It came from an IP address registered in Seattle. It then bounced around a bunch of cell towers before it came to you. From what I can tell, it never hit an FBI server.”

DiMaria shook his head and laughed. To the driver, he said, “You believe this kid?”

Sarah squeezed my hand.

The SUV was silent for several moments before James spoke up. “Sir, he also thinks there’s a Reaper drone above us.”

DiMaria’s laugh grew louder. “This just gets better and better. What next, kid? You were sent from the future to destroy mankind?”

“I’m telling you,” I said. “There is definitely one nearby. Believe what you want, there
is
a Reaper up there somewhere. And I guarantee that call wasn’t from your ops team.”

Agent DiMaria and the driver shared a glance.

“Just call them real quick, sir,” the driver said. “Confirm the orders. What can it hurt?”

DiMaria looked at the agent and frowned. Clearly annoyed, he picked up his mobile phone and dialed. After a short conversation with someone on the other end, he barked, “What do you mean you didn’t direct us back? I just spoke to you guys three minutes ago. Orders were to take the kids back to town and rendezvous with Dreessen’s team.”