Thicker Than Blood (21 page)

Kento extended the container to Joe. He reached out for it with his stiff arm and immediately pulled it back. He was more mobile, but a jolt of pain shot up it. "It hurts to move it?" Mark asked. "A lot." "We think the bullet may have grazed a nerve. You're lucky you can feel it." "Not really." He wasn't feeling lucky, nor did he want to feel it. Kento put the container on the floor next to the low bed. "Its scab is weird," Joe said. "It's nanites attaching to each other. It seems to have worked perfectly except I didn't set up any flexibility between their bonds. Your scab is harder than most steel." "Not very comfortable." He felt tired from the pain. "Sorry, I didn't think that through. The nanites are still alive and active and capable of breaking the bond on the command. I used the ultrasound panel to dissolve about two thirds of the cast based on signal strength. You know, based on the proximity," Mark hesitated. "But then you started bleeding. We think your body is totally out of that clotting protein it needs. So we can't shut them off until you totally heal." "Oh." He felt as if the room was spinning. Mark sure talks a lot. He closed his eyes. "How long has it been?" "Two days," Kento said. He never heard the answer. The room dissolved away as he dreamed of his aunt. She was wearing prison orange.

Joe started to fall over sideways, he woke up just in time to catch himself. A jolt of pain shot up his bad arm into his shoulder when he leaned on it. I must have fallen asleep again, he thought. He was sitting on a simple futon in front of the fifteen inch analog TV on the floor in the middle of the room. He looked at the digital clock on the HDTV converter box. It was his last shot to watch the evening news. He had fallen asleep the past two times. He could swear he smelled the iron from blood in his nose. He put his finger under his nose and looked at it. No blood, at least not yet. He looked at the bowls on the counter. Clouds of nanites were swimming from toxic clumps floating in their birthing fluid. I'd give all three up for a shot of blood protein, he thought. They had all agreed that Mark's clotting hack was impressive, saved Joe's life, and was way too dangerous to use any more than necessary. The catchy jingle came on to signal the beginning of the evening news. He clicked the volume up with a simple remote. The reporter looked serious as he spoke, "Our top story today, the White House held a press conference about the recent bioterrorism scare." A clip was shown of a tired press secretary, "In response to new threats to the welfare of the American people, a new agency specialized in both biotech counter intelligence and emergency response will be formed to help coordinate federal and local officials." The serious looking reporter came back on screen. "Sources say, the new agency MIR, was originally a private corporation, working in conjunction with the DOD to develop new vaccines against bioterror attacks." "Bullshit," Joe grumbled to no one. "They are the parent company of a better known organization Datahold, a patent clearinghouse and the current contract holder of the recently outsourced patent office." The image of Scott Conner standing behind a podium came on the screen. Joe could hear Mark inhale as his name came on the screen. Scott spoke in a heavy down to earth type drawl, "MIR is dedicated to protecting the armed forces and citizens of the United States. We are specialized in dealing with biotech when designed to be used as a weapon, something the CDC has not had the resources or expertise for thus far. In a short while America will be much better prepared to face the eminent biological threat," Scott leaned forward, "Especially now that we have information that Iran may be involved in this attempted attack." The serious reporter reappeared behind his desk. "Oh come on. Ask him questions!" Mark was standing next to Joe. "I wonder why it's eminent," Joe grumbled. "The Association for Modern Medicine and the American Medical Association filed suit in federal court against the White House in response to the adoption of MIR as a high level intelligence agency. They claim it gives one private corporation unprecedented powers. AMM president Ralph Lorenz stated simply, 'We've been expecting this for a while.'" "Judge Harryharma ruled no other information will available on the sealed court proceedings until a decision has been reached." The camera panned over to an angry woman news anchor. "In other news the terror suspects are still believed to be at large in the metro area. WBLA news now has information that there may be a third suspect involved in the incident at the Olympic trials. Robert Greenblatt." A picture of Kento filled the screen. He looked about seventeen and had dark hair and a dress shirt on. It looked like a high school yearbook photo. "May be with Joe Vallone, and Markus Mahdavi." Mark looked at Kento. "You're Jewish?" Joe hushed him. "Joe Vallone was last seen in Nassau county, four nights ago during the now infamous shootout." "Shootout? I didn't shoot!" Joe was turning red. "Your hair is brown?" Mark was still staring at Kento. "Anybody with information about these three men should call our anti- crime phone line." The screen panned out to show two much more accurate pictures of Joe and Mark from their Cyborg Wars photos. 199

"These men are considered armed and very dangerous. You should not approach them yourselves but instead immediately contact the authorities." The three young men starred at the TV with slackened jaws. "In our latest coverage of the war on urban violence, what should you do if a homeless person attacks you?" Kento clicked the TV off. "What if there is something about Lucy and Finny? Or Aunt Teressa?" Joe sounded annoyed. Mark sounded remorseful. "There won't be. I watched the same thing an hour ago." "Nothing?" "Not even a story about Amman," Kento said. "The Iranian thing was the first I heard of it." "Who cares." Joe was distant. "I care." Mark sounded incensed. "They have both been buried alive in some military prison." Kento looked horrified. Kento didn't look horrified much, Joe thought. He felt his stomach sink. "We have to do something," Joe said. "There's nothing we can do." Kento shook his head. "We're leaving tomorrow." Mark looked down. "Shotgun is going to help us." "Can we even trust him?" Joe wondered aloud. "I think we can..." Kento paused, "We have no choice." "We know he can stick his neck out for people." Mark wore a weak smile. "My experience has taught me when you get into real trouble, that many people are an explanation away from sticking their neck out for you." Kento raised an eyebrow. "What?" Mark stared at Kento. "What what?" Joe asked Mark. He was confused. "He has an idea. I can see it." "If we could only... Get Joe's story out. It would take some of the pressure off the manhunt, and help Lucy and Teressa." Mark looked gloomy again. Joe felt gloomy. Kento seemed lost in thought. "If the public was asking more questions, the truth would resolve itself." "Did you see that?" Joe pointed at the TV. "It's a dead end."

"Joe's right. The TV news won't pick up our story. They just read the press releases back at us. I emailed the TV stations and two dozen papers, and nobody picked it up. I contacted some people over at NYN but they have been silent. There's probably a Fed in every NYN building waiting for us now. I've emailed a few news groups but the posts disappear as quick as they appear." Mark stared at the floor. Kento replied. "I think they choose not to cover it. We sent WBLA a picture of Mark with the newspaper yesterday. What do they expect from wanted men?" "It's pretty unbelievable. We must sound nuts." Joe was morose. "It's not like they can confirm anything with MIR. Maybe I can convince one of the foreign researchers to go to their press with the nanites." "Don't do that, the world needs them. Even if they don't get in any trouble themselves, MIR may figure out that you sent out all those nanites. You can forget about anything getting cured then..." Mark trailed off. The group was quiet. Joe asked Kento, "Where are we meeting Shotgun?" Mark cut him off. "I've got it!" "Shhhhhh." Kento and Joe both hushed Mark. "Got what?" Joe asked. "Joe I need you to tell your story one last time." Mark put his clarks on, and looked around. "Stand over there by that empty wall." "What have you got in mind?" Kento asked. "I bet you a hundred bucks Lucy will be free in a week." Mark smiled smugly. "I think I have ten bucks." Joe shook his head. "You haven't opened that package Lucy left for you yet." Mark grinned. "You did?" Joe was sure Mark's curiosity would be the death of him.

Kento walked up beside Mark. His shadow blocked the light from the colorful sunset outside. Mark didn't look up. "I have a confession to make." Kento's voice sounded strained. "I am weak." Mark stuffed some clothes into a thick plastic bag while he listened. Mark looked up. He couldn't imagine what Kento was going to confess to him. He smiled. "You are everything I'm not. Disciplined, balanced, motivated." "I'm claustrophobic." Kento hung his head. "Claustrophobic," Mark continued. "I don't think I can get in the trunk." Kento's eyes where darting from side to side. "Did you wait until Joe went to bathroom?" Mark asked amused. "I don't think he can handle this. He's very angry right now." "Not at you," Mark scoffed. "I wouldn't be so sure." The toilet flushed, and Joe emerged looking grim. Mark shrugged his shoulders. "Hey you ready Joe?" Mark asked. "Yeah sure. Your jeans don't fit right," Joe grumbled, tightening his belt. Mark turned to Kento and smiled. Kento's eyes grew wide. "Kento, would you ride shotgun? My uncle's friend is in denial about his eyes. He might not make a good lookout." "Sure. It should be hard to recognize me with that photo circulating." Mark turned to Joe, "Is Kento really a blond?" Joe shook his head no. 202

"You're Jewish?" Mark was smirking. "My grandfather. If I'm anything I'm a Taoist." Kento is starting to make more sense, Mark thought. Joe finished strapping on his arm computer. He picked up a laptop in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other. He checked his head for his Clarks. "I'm ready," Joe announced. "Hold on." Mark lowered his clarks over his eyes. He logged into Kento's cluster and checked on his hard drive scrubbing routine. It was on its third pass. Mark checked the wireless network between their three arm computers and their three laptops. "Kento, turn your computer on." Kento grabbed his streamlined armband off the counter and tapped its readout. A red light blipped to yellow and then green in a sea of lights and numbers in Mark's clarks. Mark pushed the clarks on top of his head. Kento was strapping a sword to his back. "You're not going to bring that are you?" Mark asked. "Not exactly subtle." Joe grinned a crooked grin. "If someone sees me, it will because I wanted them too." Kento was deadpan serious. "Okay, okay." Mark butted out. Mark grabbed his backpack and shopping bag. "Joe, how are you feeling. Is the new batch okay?" Kento turned to Joe. "Much better, now that I'm fixed up." Joe didn't smile. Mark felt a chill run down his spine. Joe sounded just like a junkie. I'm sure he's kidding, he thought. Kento pulled an envelope from his pocket and taped it to a blank wall with a note. It read, "Outstanding Rent. Thank you. Sorry for the trouble." Mark sighed. "Let's do it." Joe scowled. The trio left the apartment and walked downstairs. Mark was relieved when they didn't see anyone in the stairwell. They walked to the back of the building through a sixties style hallway. He was thankful for its state of disrepair. The lowest wattage bulbs were used to hide the broken tiles and stained walls. 203

A couple of people passed by as they waited in the shadows by the back door for their black Towncar. Nobody turned to get a second look. Mark hoped that meant they were scott free so to speak. Mark smiled at the joke in his head. The car pulled up in the back parking lot under a broken light. He flashed his headlights twice in the twilight. The group swiftly walked out in the parking lot. Kento got in the front seat while Joe and Mark climbed in the popped trunk. They pulled the trunk closed on top of them. "Hey, there is a glow in the dark handle. Cool." Mark thought out loud in the blackness. The car started to move. Joe broke the silence. "What's the plan?" "Oh, right, you fell asleep." Mark realized that Joe might not be too proud of his mediocre health after he said it. He put his hand on his forehead in the dark. "We went over your video, from the coliseum and from your Dad's house." "Okay." "It's actually pretty good. We were able to stabilize the bouncing from running a lot. That new video autocrop thing is a lot better than the last version. It doesn't seem to cut out as much of the picture. I think it does some kind of estimation for objects on the edge of the frames." Joe cut him off. "The short version." Mark could make out Joe's features by the light from his clarks. His eyebrows were raised. "Right. Sorry. A friend of mine is an engineer at NYN. He used to work over at WBLA. He's always complaining about how bad their security is. So I wrote him and told him the whole story and showed him the videos." "Oh." Mark could hear Joe smiling. "He was pretty pissed about how slanted their coverage has been. So we talked about their security for a while, and he told me all their broadcast gear is HDTV now and there is some sort of flaw in the distributed file system authentication on their internal network." Joe's dim face stared at Mark blankly. "Distributed file system? People use them for unusually large data that needs to be redundant fast and affordable? That's where they store their movies?" Mark was exasperated. Recognition came to Joe's face, he nodded.

"They wrote it in house, but then they tried to write their own encryption algorithm for access to it or something dumb like that." "Sounds dumb." "That's not the half of it. There wasn't enough time for me to learn the details so he agreed to break in for us and play the video." "What did you offer him?" Joe inquired. "Nothing he said it would be an honor." Mark smiled. I've got great friends, Mark thought. "So where are we going?" "We need to break in through their wireless network. I did a little digging, there are several open wireless points accessible in the park across the street. I am going to bridge the Internet and your and Kento's laptops from there. Once I'm on, I'm going to send him a few packets so he can find me and he's going to break in for us. Apparently there is some sort of race condition if you connect to two access points simultaneously, they allow access to the internal network." Joe smiled devilishly. "You'd think they'd be more careful." "He tried to explain it to his boss, but he didn't get it." "So what do I do?" "Simple. I've set up this laptop with two network cards. One internal and one in the slot. It has a login for Buddy." Joe cut him off. "Your friends name is Buddy?" "And?" "You have a buddy named Buddy." Mark stared blankly. "Okay. Nevermind. Go on." "So the laptop has a local copy of some scripts to generate the attack, and the movie of you explaining what happened." "You're using that video you took?" "What did you think we were going to do?" "I looked terrible." "You say you've been shot." "I thought you were just using audio." "Joe, out of all of us you're the celebrity." "I'm all pale." "You're always pale. I'll tell them to skip Manhattan if you want." He hoped Joe wasn't seriously upset. The duo was silent. 205