Killswitch (24 page)

“Women have fallen off buildings?”

“Well, only one. Back in NYC. I should have dropped her.”

“Let me guess—your director. What was her name? Kerstin?”

Chase quivered. He didn't want to tell anyone else about the vexing hologram. “Yeah. The point is I can't help you the way I could before,” he said. “I can't even tell you if the Feds are coming.”

Something thudded above them and the lights flickered.

“The Feds are coming,” Amos said with a laugh.

Chase laughed too. “More like the construction crew.” But it wasn't funny. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and rubbed his hands together. “They could find us down here, you know.”

“Sooner or later they'll stumble into the room with the paintings and they might pull them out to haul off to a real museum. And they'll find the passage.”

“What if we get rid of the paintings and board up the hole?” Chase asked.

Amos nodded. “Might work. We can use the passage in the alley to come and go.”

“So you know about that. Switchblade thinks it's his own personal exit.”

“I figured he was using it—he likes to explore.”

Chase studied the computer screen. Information passed back and forth between various branches of the underground. The system worked. No exoself needed.

But spying on the WR and manipulating their plans wouldn't happen again. Chase didn't know how it'd happened to begin with. Robert told him he was disconnected from the WR, but then he was right back in. Until the killswitch. He shook his head.

“God will provide,” he said.

“Yes,” Amos said. “Provide what?”

Chase smiled. “Whatever.”

A few others entered, greeted Amos and Chase, and got to work. Mel lilted in, her hand extended. “Good morning,” she said. She took Chase's hand in hers and gave it a business-like shake. Then she winked.

“Uh, yeah. Good morning, Miss Melody. Ready for another day of programming the underworld? Let me know if I can be of assistance.”

“Cut it out, you two,” Amos said. “I'll lay off the wedding stuff.” He nudged Chase with his elbow. “Go ahead and give her a proper greeting. But be careful, young man. We do have rules.”

Chase stood and put his arms around Mel and whispered in her ear. “Are you always so beautiful first thing in the morning?”

She giggled and gave him a quick kiss. “What's going on? You hardworking men are missing breakfast.”

Chase pulled away and got her a chair. She sat beside Amos, and Chase took the chair on the other side of her.

“We were thinking about robbing an art museum,” Chase told her. “You in?”

“What? Are you serious?”

What sounded like a wall collapsing above them shook the room. A computer fell from a desktop and crashed to the floor. Mel eyes darted upward as she grabbed Chase's hand.

“Dear God, help us,” she said. “They're going to find us.”

“Don't be afraid,” Chase told her. “But we need to be proactive. We're going to move the paintings and block up the hole.”

“They'll hear you,” Mel said.

“Not with all that noise they're making. Besides, that hall with all the doors is a long way from the main rooms where they're working. I doubt they'd think anything of it. Probably just think it's old pipes or something.”

“How do you plan to get those paintings through a hole that's roughly four feet in diameter?
Ciel Bleu Domaine
is six feet wide. None of the rest of them will fit either.”

“We'll have to take the wall out,” Chase said. “Then we'll put it back. When we're done, no one will know the hole was ever there.”

“Or we could cut up the paintings and slide them right through,” Amos said.

What was he suggesting? Chase couldn't consider that. “I say we preserve them. They're part of the history of this town, and of the underground. Part of
our
history.”

“I agree,” Mel said. “I guess it might work, but you don't need to be doing this. There are plenty of other men here who can handle the job. You've been through enough.”

“She's right,” Amos said. “We'll get a crew together to move the paintings and get rid of that hole.”

“I need to feel useful. I've recovered from my injuries. I'm not even tired. In fact…”

“What?” Mel gave him a firm stare.

Chase opened his mouth, inhaled, and pressed his lips shut.

“Right now, mister. No more secrets.”

He nodded. “Last night, it seemed like the longer I stayed awake, the less I needed sleep. And then I sort of shut myself down. I had to make myself go to sleep. Can you explain that?”

Mel took his hand in hers and frowned.

Amos rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you were just hyped up from the party.”

“I don't think so,” Chase said. “Mel?”

“Nobody knows more than Robert Fiender how all this works. I really wish I could talk to him.”

“No more wishing,” Chase said. “We hope and we pray. And that is enough.” He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips.

Mel smiled. “Now don't tell me that being a transhuman means you're growth as a new believer will be exponential.”

“I have no idea, Miss Melody. But nothing surprises me anymore.”

39

After breakfast, plans were made for the art heist. Switchblade, of course, would lead the small crew. They had tools but the work would be slow. Especially considering they had to try to keep the noise to a minimum.

Chase, Switchblade, Mel, and Amos gathered around a work station as Mel tried to get the computer system to jump into a WR program. She wanted to see the work orders for the crew continuing to make so much racket that most of the underground's residents were now hiding in their rooms. But there was no report to be found—not by the undetectable supercomputer.

Mel pulled up a holographic image of the town, something she'd accomplished using the cameras positioned at street level. She could temporarily program the cameras to show past images when needed, just like Chase had learned to do with the exoself. But she couldn't redirect a satellite. Life here had been safer before the killswitch had taken away Chase's power. Now they'd take a chance every time they went up.

The holograph showed four men going in and coming out of the museum. They carried wood planks and large pieces of plasterboard. Materials that would be useful in building a new wall to replace the one that was about to get knocked down.

“I need to be a part of this team,” Chase implored. “I can't let them go without me. It was my idea. Besides…”

“What is it, son?” Amos asked.

“That painting sort of belongs to me, I think. More than anyone else. I want to be the one to move it.”

“How do you figure, Charlie?” Switchblade rubbed his head and dropped his hands to his knees. “We was hiding behind it before you showed up.”

“Mel, I told you about the dreams. They led me here. God brought me to Blue Sky Field by showing it to me.”

“What do you mean he showed it to you?” Switchblade asked.

“I was searching for an actual field. You can ask Molly—I told her that's where I was going. But she sent me here. And I found what I was looking for in the painting.”

“Amazing,” Amos said.

“Don't mean you own the thing.” Switchblade grabbed a duffle bag off the floor. “But I see why you want to be in on this. It's OK with me. Kinda used to you being my sidekick.”

Chase exploded out of the chair and folded his arms. “I'm
your
sidekick?”

“Yeah, I thought it might go the other way. But now that you lost your super powers you can see how I would be the logical choice for being in charge over a has-been gameshow host. You ain't got no experience in covert operations.”

“Covert—like knocking down a wall? I think I've had plenty of experience. The exoself didn't get here all by itself, you know.”

Mel leapt to her feet. “If you two can't get along, then you can both stay here.”

Amos snickered. Chase smiled. Switchblade put his arm around Chase's shoulder and pulled him to the bolted door.

Mel huffed and then laughed. “Chase Sterling…Redding, you keep a VPad on you and answer me if I call you.”

“Yes, ma'am. Don't tell my mother what I'm doing. She's even stricter than you.”

Mel hurried to his side and wrapped her hands around his bicep. “I mean it. I can't just type a message to your brain anymore. You stay in touch.”

Switchblade unlocked the door and pushed it open. “If he needs to talk to you, I'll let him use my VPad. If you need to talk to him, call me.” Switchblade's tone rose higher and he wagged his head back and forth. “But don't be carrying on about how you miss him and you hope he's all right.” He went through the door and recovered his deep voice. “The men got work to do and we don't need none of that.”

Mel stomped into the tunnel. “I just want to be in touch, that's all.”

Chase took her by the arm and spun her around. He kissed her hair, lifted her off her feet, and set her down on the other side of the doorway. “I'll let you know if we need anything. Go make room somewhere for the paintings.”

She faced him. “OK, boss.”

He raised his brow.

“Sorry. You were bossing me and it slipped out.” She grabbed him around the neck and kissed him. “I'll tell the rest of your crew you're going up.”

“Thanks. I'll see you in a little while.”

Chase followed Switchblade into the dark passage and up the winding stairs. Footsteps echoed behind him. One of the five men chosen for the job swung a laserlight, and Chase appreciated the glow it offered. The others caught up as Switchblade pushed the painting out of the way and crawled through.

The first thing to do was secure the door. Switchblade nailed old plywood over it so that if the workers on the other side wanted in, the crew on this side would at least have a couple of minutes to retreat. But there'd be no hiding—not for long—with a gaping hole in the wall.

The men went to work removing the artwork from the walls. The pieces all slid free without a struggle, except for
Ciel Blue Domaine
. Switchblade used a screwdriver to remove the hinges that held the painting to the wall. Chase and two other men held it as it broke loose. They eased it to the floor.

“Now we've got to make a hole big enough to get them through,” Chase said.

“Seriously?” one of the men asked. “Let's just chop them up and throw them in the hole we've already got.”

“Leo's right,” Switchblade said. “It'd save a lot of time. Those workers could come in any minute.”

“No way we're destroying them,” Chase said to the man named Leo. “Start cutting the wall.”

“Look, I know you're the most important thing to happen to the underground, but we don't follow your orders, Mr. Sterling,” Leo said.

“Charlie, we could make clean cuts and put the pieces back together when we get them in,” Switchblade said.

Chase shook his head. “The way I got cut up and put back together? This painting—”

“I know. God used it to lead you here.” Switchblade picked up a laser saw and powered it. “We'll get it through in one piece.” He aimed the silent beam at the plaster and made a clean cut.

Chase grabbed an old-fashioned handsaw and began cutting the beam behind the plaster. Leo grumbled as he joined the other men in breaking out sections of the wall in chunks large enough to put back. With some new plasterboard and a little paint, nobody would know the wall hid a passage that went down into the cavern.

As they worked Chase explained his dreams, and his recent induction into the family of believers, to Leo and the other men. They seemed to understand that Chase needed to keep the focal point of his visions intact.

“I got wind of it last night—about you getting saved,” Leo said. “People were talking. Then Amos started in on all that wedding stuff. So, you and Melody getting married?”

“I haven't proposed to the lady,” Chase said. “Someday. I hope.”

“No point in waiting if you ask me. Might not be a someday.”

Hours passed as boards were removed and laid aside to be put back in place later. Mel called Switchblade's VPad twice. Chase assured her they were doing fine. Sandwiches were shared during short breaks. The noise from just beyond the room continued until the day grew old and the crew left.

With the wall all but removed, the paintings were put through to the other side.

Switchblade pulled on his cap and dark glasses. “I'm going up to see what I can find to repair this mess.”

“I'm coming with you,” Chase said.

“No, you're not. You and the guys get those paintings down the stairs. Which, by the way, won't be no easy feat.” The big man shook his head. “Meet me back here in an hour and we'll rebuild the wall. You and me can get it all beautified from the inside. Then we'll come in through the alley.”

“You sure you'll be OK?”

“Just bring me some supper.”

“Will do.”

Switchblade headed up and Chase and the others headed down. Each of the men carried one of the smaller paintings to the staircase and into the underground. Others, waiting at the unbolted door, took the artwork.

Chase went back up with Leo. The other men left to eat their well-deserved dinner. More than two men maneuvering the largest of the paintings down the winding stairs wouldn't work.

“Thanks for understanding my need to keep the art from being cut up,” Chase said as he and Leo grabbed hold of the heavy wooden frame.

“Don't know that I understand. But we put the needs of others ahead of our own,” Leo told him. “If we didn't, we'd be fighting all the time down here.”

“That's foreign to me,” Chase said. “To the old me, anyway. I used to brag on how I helped so many people, but truth is I spent most of my life seeing what I could get out of it for myself. Now I'm starting to understand what you mean. But don't you resent it sometimes?”