Wired (19 page)

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Authors: Douglas E. Richards

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Thriller, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Adventure, #Fantasy

BOOK: Wired
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“I
don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “But he’s taking great pains to capture me
alive, even knowing I’m his biggest threat and won’t rest until I’ve stopped
him. It’s obvious he hasn’t given up on the fountain of youth.”

They
sat in silence for several seconds. Finally, Desh glanced at his watch and
sighed. “We’d better go,” he said. “We have a bus to catch.”

Desh
paid for the sundaes and they cautiously returned to the main mall. He scanned
their surroundings for several minutes but didn’t detect anything out of place.

Desh
gave Kira a questioning look as they made their way across the mall. “So why
me, Kira?” he asked simply.

She
sighed. “I already told you. You’re a good man. And when the chips are down,
you’ll do the right thing. You’re an expert at finding people. You have Special
Forces training. You’re smart and well read. I’ve been trying to find Moriarty
and stop him, but I’ve gotten nowhere.”

Kira
reached out and placed her hand in front of Desh, signaling him to stop
walking. When he did she looked deeply into his eyes and he sensed she was
deciding if she wanted to say more. Finally she lowered her eyes. “And I was
lonely,” she said softly. “I’ve been on the run for a very long time. Not
trusting anyone. Suspicious of everything.” She paused. “But I can’t stop
Moriarty alone. As I studied your history, I realized I needed the help of
someone like you; someone I could trust.”

So
she had risked kidnapping him, even though he couldn’t have been more biased
against her, to convince him to become her ally. Just as she had told him at
the motel. And she had taken an even greater risk by putting herself under his
control at the clearing. He still had a few nagging suspicions but he would put
them to rest—for now.

Kira
gazed into his eyes hopefully. “Will you help me, David?” she asked.

Desh
held her stare for several seconds and then nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Yes,”
he said finally. “I will.”

Kira
let out the breath she had been holding. “Thank you,” she whispered earnestly.
“And I really am sorry for bringing you into all of this. It was selfish of
me.”

“No
it wasn’t,” said Desh firmly. The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight
smile. “And you didn’t bring me into anything. I was hired by Colonel Jim
Connelly to find and stop a psychopathic killer who was off the grid, and
that’s still what I’m doing.”

Kira’s
features hardened. “I’m going to stop this bastard if it’s the last thing I
do,” she vowed through clenched teeth, her face now a mask of hatred. “I swear
on my brother’s soul that I’ll get him. A tragic accident took my parents from
me, but Moriarty murdered the only other person I really ever loved; my only
remaining family.”

A
deadly gleam came to her eye. “And someday—soon—he’s going to pay for that.”

30

 
 

They
exited the bus in downtown Richmond and took a cab to a used car lot. There
they paid cash for an aging pick-up truck.

Griffin
had called while they were on the bus and he and Connelly were doing well,
despite the fact, as Griffin had put it, that being forced to shave his beard
had surely “scarred and traumatized him for life.” They had arrived at the
house of Connelly’s retired doctor friend without incident and Connelly was
getting treatment.

Desh
took the driver’s seat of the used pick-up when the transaction was completed. “Where
to?” he asked.

“Get
back on 95 north,” replied Kira. “Let’s go to my place.”

“You
have a place? After all this time on the run?”

Her
eyes danced playfully. “It’s a motor home. I live in a trailer park.”

“You’re
kidding.”

“Why
do you say that?” she said impishly.

Desh
shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re a brilliant scientist whose discoveries could
change the world. You just don’t picture someone like that in an RV.” He smiled
broadly. “Albert Einstein living in a trailer park just seems wrong to me.”

She
laughed. “That’s why it’s so perfect. A trailer park is the last place the old
me would ever think of living and the last place anyone would think to look. And
this way, I can change locations every month or so and still have a sense of
home.”

It
was a sound strategy, Desh realized, once you stopped to think about it. “I’m
embarrassed to say that I’ve never been to a trailer park.”

“You’re
in for a treat then,” she said. “I have three RVs as a matter of fact. One on
the East Coast, one on the West Coast, and one in the heartland. The last two
are just safety valves. I paid for a year at the trailer park in advance so
they’ll be there for me if I need them.”

“I
can hardly wait to see it,” said Desh, stopping at a red light. “So tell me
about your search for Moriarty.”

“I
will. But not now. I’ve been doing all of the talking. It’s your turn.”

“In
my defense, I was too busy doing the mistrusting and glaring for that.”

“Given
what you were told, I can’t blame you,” she said. “But tell me about
you
. It’s been a long time since I’ve
gotten to know anyone. How did you end up in the military?” She paused. “Or did
you feel like you really didn’t have a choice?”

For
just a moment Desh had forgotten that she had made a study of him, but her
question reminded him immediately. His father had been a general, a fact that
she well knew as evidenced by her question. She certainly hadn’t wasted any
time on small talk, although with everything they had been through, he
realized, small talk at this point would be a little ridiculous.

“I
had a choice,” he answered. “Definitely. Dad wasn’t like that. He loved being
in the military but he wanted me and my brother to do what made us happy. In
the end, I joined up, not because he pressured me, but because he set such a
good example. He was compassionate and friendly and had a great sense of
humor.” Desh paused. “Most people picture military lifers as rigid, inflexible,
authoritarian bureaucrats—and many of them are—but not my father.”

“What
did your mother think of it all?”

“She
had a similar philosophy. She wanted us to be happy. She admired my dad, but
she made sure we knew the sacrifices we would be making if we joined up. Funny,”
he added, “my brother joined up also. Went to Annapolis. I sometimes wonder if
either of my folks had put pressure on us if we would have done something else,
just to rebel.”

Desh
hadn’t spoken of his father for a long time and his eyes reflected a deep loss.

“I’m
sorry about your father,” said Kira softly.

He
nodded. “If anyone knows about loss, it’s you,” he said. “Did any of my records
say how it happened?”

“No.
Just that he died in action.”

“Which
is a misrepresentation,” said Desh dourly. “He was in Pakistan at a weeklong
meeting with regional military leaders. He died buying fruit at a market near his
hotel. Just another terrorist bombing. Ironic: he had seen a lot of action in
his career, but he died off-duty and out of uniform.” His lip curled up in
disgust. “They probably wouldn’t have bombed the place if they knew he was a
general. They actually
prefer
killing civilians,” he said bitterly. “Generates
more terror that way.”

Kira
sighed supportively. After a few seconds of silence she said, “How’s your
brother doing?”

“He’s
doing well. I didn’t get to visit with him very often before I left the service.
But since I became a civilian I’ve been seeing more of him.”

“Do
you regret leaving the military?”

“Honestly,
no. I feel a little selfish and maybe a little cowardly; but no. I was ready to
leave even before the disaster in Iran. When you’re in the Delta Force you
don’t form strong attachments to anyone outside your team—you can’t. Not
really. And I didn’t want to go through life that way. I wanted to be a husband
and father someday.”

They
drove on in silence for several minutes. “You mentioned Iran,” began Kira
hesitantly. “What happened there exactly?”

“You
must have read the after action report.”

“I
skimmed through it,” she acknowledged. “But it was lengthy and I didn’t read it
carefully. Besides,” she continued, “If we’re going to be allies, David, the
more insight we have into each other, the better. I’d be interested in hearing
these events in your own words.”

Desh
shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell,” he lied. He had planned to stop there when
it occurred to him that Kira had bared her soul at the restaurant. Maybe it
was
his turn. He sighed heavily. “Okay, I’ll give you an abbreviated version.”

Desh
paused and gathered himself. “Intel had finally located the leader of a terror
group, Khalid Abdul-Malik. He was responsible for a series of bombings of
churches and synagogues around the world, all timed during religious services
to maximize casualties. He was headquartered just outside of Sanandaj, on
Iran’s western border. We were sent in to capture him if possible, kill him if
not. Our insertion was flawless.”

Desh
tilted his head, remembering. “Satellites had picked up Abdul-Malik and some of
his key lieutenants on the move, headed toward the nearby town of Mahabad, and
we planned an ambush.” He shook his head, a tormented expression on his face. “But
we were ambushed instead,” he said sullenly. He fell silent for several long
seconds and then added, “They had been expecting us.”

“You
were set up?”

“No
question about it. I have no idea how.” Desh turned away from Kira and kept his
gaze focused steadily on the road ahead, bracing himself to continue. “We were
all taken prisoners, me and the three other members of my team. Since I was
team commander, the terrorists decided to punish me by torturing my men to death
in front of me—men who I loved as brothers.” He looked as if he might vomit. “My
head was tied in position and my eyes were pried open. I couldn’t turn my head
and I couldn’t look away.” He shuddered. “There are tortures beyond the
imaginings of the most gifted horror writer,” he whispered.

There
was a long silence as Kira waited for him to continue.

“I
won’t describe what happened next,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t do that to
anybody. Suffice it to say they were tortured and then butchered.” Hatred
welled up in his eyes. “And these sick bastards enjoyed every minute of it,
too.”

“How
did you escape?” asked Kira softly.

“They
had finished with my men,” said Desh, his voice now dead and emotionless. “I
was next. There were three guards with me at the time. While one of them was
peeing out back, one of them slipped on a pool of blood and fell. A man has
only six quarts of blood in his body. Six quarts doesn’t seem like a lot until
you’re covered in it, and you see the rest spilled on the ground. Eighteen
quarts is hard to imagine.”

Kira
shuddered from the mental picture he had painted.

“I
was tied to a chair,” continued Desh. “But after the guard fell I gave him a
face-full of chair-leg. I dove on the other guard, chair and all, to prevent
him from using his gun, but he managed to stab me several times with his knife
before I was able to head-butt him into unconsciousness. I escaped and
eventually made it across the border to Iraq.”

“I
do remember this part,” said Kira. “I read the soldiers who found you in Iraq
couldn’t believe you had made it so far in the condition you were in. They were
astonished by your stamina and force of will.”

Desh
grimaced. “I should have died with my men,” he whispered. “In the Special
Forces, we take the code of leaving no man behind very seriously.” His eyes moistened
and he shook his head sadly. “The truth is that my men had been so badly
butchered there wasn’t enough left of their bodies to bring back, even if I
could have.”

31

 
 

Desh
accelerated onto the Interstate 95 onramp and merged with highway traffic.

“I
don’t know what to say,” said Kira helplessly.

“There’s
nothing
to
say. Seems that we’ve both had our share of bad luck and
battle scars. When the stakes are high, the penalties can be high,” he said.

They
drove on for several minutes until Kira finally broke the silence, deciding a
change in subject was in order. “Look, David,” she said hesitantly, “at the
risk of sounding like a drug pusher, I’d like you to take one of my gellcaps.”

Desh
eyed her with interest. “Why?” he said simply.

“I
appreciate you agreeing to become my ally, but we both know you still don’t
trust me a hundred percent. How can you? There’s been so much going on and so
many complexities to this story that only a fool would fail to harbor at least
a little doubt. And you're anything but a fool. In the recesses of your mind,
you still can’t help but wonder if I’m just a great actress and this is all
some kind of diabolical plan of mine.”

“You’re
right,” he said. “I won’t deny it. But the doubt has shrunk from a hundred
percent to about five percent, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It
does. But taking a gellcap will eliminate any remaining reservations. Sure, you
might believe intellectually that I’ve succeeded in radically transforming the
human brain, but for you to really trust that all of this is real, you have to
experience it for yourself. I could tell you more about what it’s like, but
until you’ve experienced it yourself no description I could offer could do it
justice. Once you’ve been enhanced you’ll know that everything I’ve told you is
true. Down to the last detail.”

Desh
pursed his lips. “I don’t know, Kira,” he said reluctantly. “I’m not sure I
like the idea of altering the architecture of my brain.”

“After
everything I told you, I don’t blame you. But I promise the effect will only
last about an hour. After that, you’ll be the exact same David Desh as always.”

“Yeah?
How can you be so sure?”

She
opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. “I guess I can’t be. Not
absolutely. I know that you won’t
feel
any different. And the people I
interacted with afterwards never noticed any changes in me—at least none I’m
aware of.”

“What
about the sociopathy?”

“As
I mentioned, that effect builds. The first time you’re enhanced it’s like
you’re Alice in Wonderland, too awestruck to have many ruthless thoughts. Repeated
exposure further numbs the emotions and increases your feelings of
omnipotence.”

“And
then—what?—you graduate from Alice to Frodo to Darth?” he said wryly.

She
frowned. “I use too many silly literary metaphors, don’t I?”

Desh
couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all,” he said reassuringly. “And I’m the one
who came up with Moriarty. So maybe we’re two peas in a pod.”

Kira
caught his eye and sighed deeply. “It would really mean a lot to me, David. You
have to experience it to truly understand it.”

Desh
returned her gaze briefly and then shifted his eyes back to the road as he
considered her request. “Okay,” he said finally, still with some reluctance. “I’ll
do it.”

“Thanks
David,” she said in relief. “This
will
erase any lingering doubts. I
promise. And it will also surpass your wildest expectations.” Her right hand
went to her neck and located a silver chain that had been hidden by her
clothing. She lifted, pulling the chain up until a silver locket emerged from
under her sweatshirt. The locket was heart-shaped and about the circumference
of a quarter. She repositioned the necklace so it and the locket were now on
the outside of her jacket.

“I
just happen to have a dose on hand,” she announced.

“There’s
a gellcap inside that locket?” he said in disbelief.

“Absolutely.”

“I
don’t know, Kira,” said Desh, rolling his eyes. “Wearing the One Ring of Power
around your neck in pill form? Maybe you
are
taking this Frodo thing a
bit far.”

Kira
grinned. “Okay,” she said, amused. “I admit I’m a bit of a geek.” She became
serious once more. “The truth is that it’s a symbolic gesture that strengthens
my resolve to never enhance myself again. I want to stop Moriarty, not
become
him. Having a dose around my neck reminds me of the danger of giving in to the
lure of power.”

“You
played a lot of Dungeons And Dragons as a kid, didn’t you?” said Desh wryly.

A
playful smile lit up her face. “All right,” she said. “I can’t deny that it’s
corny. But it really has helped. And, just for the record, I’ve never played
Dungeons And Dragons in my life.” She paused and motioned toward the locket. “Are
you ready?”

Desh
frowned. “Right now?”

“Why
not?”

“I’ll
do it, but let’s hold off. I’d rather not be in a car when I take it, and I’d
love to have a good night’s sleep as well. How about if I try it in the
morning?”

Kira
nodded. “Whenever you feel up to it. I guess I’m just anxious to develop that
deeper level of trust. Besides,” she added, “I’ve never been able to compare
notes with anyone.”

As
they drove they continued a lively conversation. Now that they were allies,
Desh found he had an easy rapport with her. About seventy-five minutes into the
drive, Kira called a stop for what she called a biological break.

Desh
exited the highway and drove into a small gas station with only two pumps and
without the ubiquitous mini-store. He pulled up to the pump closest to a small
brick structure that contained bathrooms. He exited the pick-up and began to
top off the tank while Kira got the restroom key from the attendant.

Kira
had just returned the key and was crossing Desh’s path as he hung up the
nozzle, on her way back to the passenger seat, when Desh’s heart leaped to his
throat.

Chopper
blades.
Again
.

Before
Desh could move or call out a warning, Kira collapsed to the ground in front of
him, a small dart protruding from her neck.

Desh
had already evaluated their current location and knew there was nowhere to run
or hide. The chopper was coming closer and he only had an instant to act.

He
threw himself to the ground next to Kira to buy himself an additional few
seconds while his mind churned furiously. He realized in desperation he had
only one option. Reaching out, he clutched the chain around Kira’s neck and
yanked as hard as he could. The chain snapped and the locket slid to the
pavement. Desh tossed the chain as far away from them as he could and snatched
the free locket, hurriedly shoving it into his mouth. He used his tongue to
push the small, silver heart into the back of his mouth; shoving its point into
his cheek to lodge it snugly between his teeth and gums, like a chaw of
tobacco, hoping it was too small to cause a visible bulge.

His
tongue was still pressed against the locket when he felt a sharp sting in his
own neck and he drifted off into a dreamless oblivion.

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