Battle Road (13 page)

No sooner had Tien finished speaking, they saw the first flashing lights from a police cruiser dead ahead. It was coming straight at them, no more than a quarter mile away. “I have to turn around,” Dylan said, looking into the rear view mirror. Tien grabbed his arm and spoke firmly, “We have to ram them off the road. We'll never be able to turn around in time to outrun them. With the laser targeting from the drone, they'll be able to take us out in a couple of shots.” Dylan looked at Tien in alarm, quickly realizing she was right. He put his seat belt on, she followed suit.

Dylan stepped on the gas. The police cruiser closed in fast, sirens blaring, lights flashing. At one hundred yards, both cars continued head on towards one another. They closed to fifty yards. Dylan thought to himself,
120 mph collision.
Twenty five yards. Tien yelled out, “Hold On!” The head on collision imminent, they screamed out in unison. At the very last second, the police cruiser veered off and flew into a patch of trees. Creating a horrific crashing sound. The sirens went dead.

“
Yeah!” Tien yelled triumphantly. She turned to look back at the crash. Dylan howled in celebration at the same instance. However, the joy was short lived. A second cruiser careened out onto the street from an intersection the Jaguar had passed just seconds earlier. The Homeland Security cruiser, turning on their lights and sirens, followed in full pursuit. The hover drone fell back and out of targeting range. The road curved sharply to the left, then the right, slowing the Jaguar down. They came upon another curve in the road, this time sharper than before. The Jaguar screeched to the side as Dylan tried to keep the car on the road. The drone caught up, it's laser hitting the rear windshield of the Jaguar. The DHS cruiser just barely out of range to fire their weapons.

The road straightened out, Dylan floored the gas pedal,  pushing the car up to eighty, then ninety miles per hour. The targeting laser beam quickly dropped off the back of the car, the slower aerial drone unable to keep up. The police cruiser, not having the engine power of the Jaguar, also began slipping away.

A traffic light came into view ahead. Tien called out, “Take the left, we can get over to Arlington from there.” Dylan acknowledged her directions. The lights turned red as they approached. Dylan spun the wheel and took a sharp left, screeching all four tires. A single car crossing the intersection veered out of the way, running off the road, it's horn blaring.
“Push it, Dylan! They'll have Reapers above us in minutes if we don't loose them now.” Tien knew Homeland Security tactics. She studied them extensively as part of her training. Though Dylan was well aware of the arsenal of Homeland Security weaponized drones. Neither one wanting to speak aloud the fact that without electronic jamming there was no way to evade a Hellfire III missile fired from a Reaper attack drone.   

Dylan pushed the Jaguar up to a hundred miles an hour. On the secondary road, he dared not go any faster. He weaved in and out of the few cars in their way. The DHS cruiser fell further behind, the drone was far out of sight. They reached Route 2, one of the main highways in and out of Boston. Dylan drove past the on ramp. “We'll have to lose them on the back roads,” Tien said, looking over her shoulder at the cruiser in the distance. “Hold on,” Dylan said. At the off ramp to the highway, Dylan slammed the brakes and swung the wheel hard to the right. The car skidded sideways before driving onto the off ramp, going the wrong way. “What are you doing?” Tien screamed. Dylan drove down the off ramp. He swerved to the left to miss a car on the ramp, then to the right avoiding another.

Tien put her arm on his shoulder before raising her voice to speak, “On the highway, we'll be in the open. If any Reapers have made it to our location, they'll easily be able to spot a car going the wrong way. Reapers have their own targeting systems. They'll strike us before we make it to the next off ramp. We have to go back!”

They were past the off ramp and on the highway at that point. Two oncoming cars  swerved away, barely missing the Jaguar. Dylan looked over at her, realizing his mistake. “OK. Hold on!” He slammed on the brakes and turned the steering wheel hard over. The car spun in a half circle, facing the right direction. Dylan floored the gas pedal once again. The Jaguar's engine roared, the tires laid down rubber, and sped away.

The DHS cruiser maintained it's pursuit, driving down the off-ramp, and making it  almost to the highway. Dylan brought the speed of the Jaguar up to seventy, as he drove past the police car coming down the ramp. Before reaching the overpass, he swerved the Jag to the left hand lane. A horrendous crashing noise came from behind. Tien turned around to see the Homeland Security cruiser turned into a pile of smoking twisted steel. Evidently hit head on by an oncoming utility truck that was still spinning on it's side. The DHS cruiser suddenly burst into a fireball.

A hundred yards past the overpass, Dylan spied the off-ramp to the opposite side of the highway on his left. They were in luck, no barrier divided the median strip. “Hold on,” he called out. He swung the car onto the grass strip. The Jaguar went airborne, slamming down hard at the bottom of the small dip in the center of the strip. The car bounced violently, shaking Dylan and Tien around, held in only by the straps of their seat belts.

Dylan drove in the center of the medium strip another fifty yards or so. The car still bouncing up and down nearly uncontrollably. “Better than an amusement ride,” Dylan yelled. “Get us out of here,” Tien yelled back.

At the right moment, when there was a break in the traffic, Dylan spun the wheel and floored the gas pedal. The car climbed the grass incline and launched onto the highway. Hitting the pavement, Dylan slammed the brakes and spun the steering wheel to align the car in the right direction of traffic. Several cars managed to steer around and avoid colliding with the Jaguar, the drivers blaring their horns.

Dylan floored the gas pedal once more, reaching the off-ramp in a matter of seconds. He slowed the car down, exiting onto the main street and blended into the vehicle traffic. A collective sigh of relief went through both of them. They knew the DHS cruiser had probably been in constant radio contact with their command base. And in all likelihood, their last reported position would have been traveling westbound on Route 2. They knew they had some breathing room.

Dylan turned off at the first street that they came upon, keeping to the posted speed limit. Again he took the next turn, then the next after that. They wanted to get as far away from the main roads as possible and into quiet residential neighborhoods.

Tien let out a sigh. “We may be safe for now. But you can be sure they have a small fleet of drones airborne right now looking for us. We have to ditch this car, and do it fast. We need to look for any mid to late 20's model hybrid electrics. Those are easiest to hot wire.”

After no more than five minutes of searching they came upon what they were looking for. Dylan slowed down, parked on the opposite side of the street, and killed the lights. In the driveway to what would be considered a moderate sized mansion, sat an older model hybrid electric car. “I'd say it looks like a mid twenties, perfect,” Tien said.

“
Probably belongs to their teenage son judging from the look of that house,” Dylan added.        

Tien opened the glove compartment looking for any kind of tool she could use. “Why their son and not their daughter?”

“Come on, would you let your daughter drive that thing?”

“
Yeah, I guess you're right. Uhm, do you have any change. I need a coin. A quarter works best.”

“
No I have nothing, other than cash.”

There was nothing in the glove compartment of use. Tien felt around with her fingers in the center console, pulling out a quarter from the bottom of the cup holder. “Great, this will work. Give me a couple of those house key's from the chain.” She pointed to the key's dangling from the steering column. “A medium size one and a large one.”

“I can check the trunk for …...” Dylan tried to say he'd look for some tools but was cut off. “No time for that,” she said, “We need to move fast.”

He stayed in the Jaguar while Tien got out and headed into the darkness. She quickly walked over to the house directly across from the old hybrid electric, walking across the lawn, being careful to remain in the darkness as much as possible. Luckily no dogs were out. Tien crept up behind one of the cars in their driveway. Looking around to make sure no was out on the street, she could see the people through the windows in their home. A woman was working in the kitchen, drinking what looked to be a glass of wine. Two small kids were running around in what was probably the living room. Tien knelt down on the ground and used the quarter to try to unscrew the rear license plate. The first screw she tried didn't budge. She pulled out of her pocket the two key's and sandwiched the quarter between them. Using her fingers from both hands, she twisted with all her strength. The screw moved slightly, a fraction of an inch. Tien exhaled, took a deep breath and tried again. This time the screw moved a half a turn. She repositioned herself and went at it again, this time the screw spun off easily.

She poked her head above the trunk when she was finished removing the other screw and pulling off the plate, making sure the coast was still clear. Satisfied, she crept along the drivers side of the car to work on the front plate.

With the plates in hand, she hurriedly walked across the street to the old car. Once in the driveway, she could see the people inside their home. A man and a woman were sitting in what appeared to be a family room, watching a big ultra high-def TV. A light was on to one of the upstairs bedrooms, probably the kid who owned the car.

Tien found the car unlocked. Not a big surprise, most of the cars in the neighborhood were probably unlocked. Especially an old junky hybrid electric. The interior light came on as she opened the door and slid into the front seat, quietly closing the door and killing the light. She dropped the stolen plates on the passenger side floor, then felt around in the dark with her right hand for the service panel below the ignition keypad.

Most American automobiles had voice activated ignition systems by the early 2020's. A keypad with a digital display was used as the manual backup should the voice controls fail.

She looked up at the house to make sure no one was looking out any windows before using the larger of the two keys to pop off the cover on the dashboard to the service panel. It took just a couple of tries before the cover flew off. She looked up again, nobody was around. She reached inside the dashboard and felt the surface of the circuit board holding the single input connector intended for a technician's diagnostic cable. She used her finger to feel the contour of the of the connector, checking if it was the right type. It was.

Tien peered around the perimeter of the car once again.
OK, lets do this
, she thought. She opened up the glove compartment, pulled out a sheet of paper, and carefully folded it several times. She put the end of the smaller key inside the folded paper, using it as an insulator. Then jammed the key forcefully into the right side of the connector, shorting the ignition keypad, and resetting the code back to the original default setting. A serious security flaw that wasn't discovered for a number of years. Nor was a recall ever issued by the big American car companies.

Tien sat up straight in the drivers seat, looked behind her in the rear view mirror, then looked over at the house. Everything appeared good. She punched the default code into the keypad: 1, 2, 3, 4. Each  number appearing in the display. The electric engine whirred, barely making a sound.
I can't believe how easy this is
, she thought, as she slowly backed out of the driveway. 

Dylan followed Tien down the street and out of the neighborhood. They drove the back roads for a few minutes until Tien noticed an undeveloped parcel of land between two homes. It was perfect. She pulled the old car up to the side of the road, keeping the engine idling, but killing the lights. She got out and waited for Dylan to pull up to her.

“Drive the car in there as far as possible. Cover it up with whatever you can find,” she spoke quietly. After he drove past and into the field, she headed back to the hybrid electric to get the stolen license plates put on.

TWENTY FIVE

Tien drove the stolen car through the residential side roads of Arlington and Belmont, until they reached the city of Cambridge. Hiding in the busy metropolitan streets would be safer than the quiet suburbs.

Once in the city Homeland Security and local police cruisers with their light flashing passed by in what seemed like an endless procession. Dylan ducked his head each time they passed. A single occupant in the vehicle would draw less notice. The sky buzzed with hover drones, zipping from side to side or back and forth above them.

Tien spotted a gas station with a mini-mart that appeared to be deserted of customers. She pulled into the parking lot and parked on the far side of the store that was less noticeable from the street. She turned to Dylan, “We need food, something to drink. We're running on adrenaline now. Those cheese and crackers we had aren't going to hold us.” 

Inside the store, a teenage male clerk sat behind the counter playing a video game on his tablet computer, taking no notice of the couple entering the doorway. “How much money do you have?” Tien asked, pretending to browse at some canned goods stocked on a shelf. Dylan stopped at her side and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out the bills he had stuffed there earlier when they abandoned his StarCruiser in the Mall parking lot.

He pulled out six twenties, a few tens, and a few crumpled two dollar bills. “A hundred and fifty six bucks, not much,” he said. “Good. We'll need to save sixty for later on. But this is more than enough for now,” she said, taking all the bills. They quickly chose a couple of diet sodas and bottles of water, along with some prepackaged sandwiches, chips, and cookies. They wanted to move fast. But not too fast to draw suspicion. On their way to the counter, Tien spotted a circular rack with cheap tourist baseball caps with the Red Sox logo on them. “We'll need these,” she said, grabbing one for each of them.

Dylan put the food and drinks onto the counter, while Tien tossed the hats down. The clerk looked up from his game, then shook his head in obvious contempt upon seeing Tien pull out the wad of cash. “Lady, come on. Nobody uses cash anymore.”

“It's a long story. But we both left the house tonight without our credit cards,” she said in a convincingly apologetically tone. The teenager scanned the items and fumbled for the right combination of cash register commands. “That'll be seventy four fifty five.”

Once back in the car, Dylan slouched down in the passenger seat. Tien did the same. He opened the plastic grocery bag and searched through it, handing Tien her soda, the chips, and a sandwich before taking his own and looking it over. “Tuna salad. Nothing like a four day old prepackaged tuna salad sandwich from a gas station,” he said. Tien peeled back the plastic cover to her sandwich, looked at the label, and took a bite. “I don't know. I can't imagine anything better than my chicken salad sandwich here. The expiration date is today.” They looked at each other and let out a chuckle.

They took their time eating their dinner and relaxing in the mini-marts parking lot. Nobody had pulled up to the store or gotten gasoline. It was as good a place as any to rest up.

“
Homeland Security will flash our pictures on every TV screen, every internet news outlet, every mobile device there is. We need to get to a computer with net access as soon as we can. Once connected I'll be able to log on to a secure web site where I can obtain the location of my assigned safe house.” Dylan listened intently. He knew she was the one in charge from here on out.

“
Ready?” Tien asked. They had rested for about ten minutes. “Yeah,” he said, before reaching over his shoulder to pull down his seat belt. They both knew it was time to go.

Tien pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed towards central Cambridge. Police and DHS cruisers continued to periodically drive past them at high speeds with their lights and sirens blazing. She turned left onto a minor boulevard heading to Davis Square in Somerville, where the traffic and police activity lessened quite a bit.

On the  outskirts of Davis Square, Tien turned onto a quiet side street and found a parking spot. “We won't find any place to park closer to the square. We'll dump the car here. We have to assume it's already been reported stolen. There's an old internet cafe in the Square......” Dylan cut her off. “I know the place. The Elm Street Cafe, near that barbeque joint. Probably the last surviving internet cafe.”

“Yup. That's the place. After we get network access, we'll take the subway to our safe house.”   

“
Wouldn't a cab be better, avoid the camera's in the subway?”

“
No, we have to assume all the taxi drivers have seen our face by now. Our best chance is blending into the crowds.”

“
You're the boss,” he said.

They got out of the car and walked down a dimly lit side street. “Wear your hat down low like this,” Tien said, pushing her hat low over her forehead. He followed her lead. They walked quietly, looking around carefully with each step they took. Reaching the end of the street, just as they turned the corner onto the busier main street of Davis Square, a hover drone on routine patrol flew directly over head. It startled Dylan. He looked up at the machine instinctively. “No, no, look down,” Tien said frantically. It was too late. She spoke in a more calm tone. “They're going to identity our location. Hopefully, with any luck, it'll take them a few hours before computer analysis will identify your face. We have to move faster now.”

At the end of the block they reached their destination. A blue sign with white lettering hung above the front windows, THE ELM STREET INTERNET CAFE. Underneath, in smaller print, 'Established 1996'. The cafe catered to Tuft University students that wanted to get away from their dorm rooms or libraries for a change of scenery. A cool place to hang out, grab a cup of coffee, and surf the internet.

Dylan opened the heavy glass front door for Tien. The sign on the door listed the hours of operation: open weekdays till eleven. They'd have to work fast. They adjusted their eyes to the brightly lit cafe. There were only a few customers, mostly 20 something's sitting around the various tables and couches with laptops or tablets. The cafe was decorated with the retro look of the early 2010's. Posters of Lady Gaga, Justin Beiber, and the like adorned the walls. A Beyonce tune played on the sound system. 

Tien approached the young woman with bright red hair sitting behind the counter. She was reading a book on her tablet, hardly paying attention to her customers. A sign on the wall behind the woman stated the rates: '$85 dollars an hour, $45 a half hour without quarterly pass'. Tien pulled out the crumpled bills Dylan had given her. “We need a laptop for half an hour,” she said, handing the woman a couple of twenties and a ten. The woman took the bills, a quizzical expression on her face, as if to say 'what do I do with these'. The woman fished around in the draw below the desk, pulling out a five dollar bill. “Take computer sixteen over there.” She pointer her finger to a table against the far wall. “We close in thirty minutes.”

Tien moved hastily to the table. Dylan followed, taking his time. A laptop computer with the screen folded down sat atop the table. Tien sat down and lifted the display. The computer was is sleep mode. Tien looked around the room while putting on the headset with a microphone, making sure she was safe from prying ears and eyes. She spoke quietly into the microphone, issuing commands to open the web browser. Checking if there was encryption software installed on the system, she discovered there wasn't any. She would have to download and install an open source version herself. Time was going to be tight.

At quarter to eleven, Tien had finished installing the encryption software. She went to work making the secure connection to her secret network. Most of the other patrons of the cafe had cleared out. The woman behind the desk looked up at Tien and Dylan, eying them for a moment before returning to her book. Tien entered her memorized identification and a series of passwords, moving through layer after layer of security firewalls. She got though the final layer, entered the security challenge, and was presented with the web page interface she was seeking.

The young woman got up from her chair behind the desk and called out to the few remaining patrons, “It's ten fifty five people. Please finish up your work.” Tien spoke to Dylan without moving her eyes from the screen, “I just need two more minutes.” Tien entered her identification then clicked on an icon of a house to initiate the final process of being assigned her safe house. She waited, nothing happened at first. Another few seconds passed, still nothing. Finally, the information appeared on the screen. “Yes!” she said out loud though still under her breath. She wrote the information onto a small paper scratch pad next to the computer. Then put the entire scratch pad in her jacket pocket. The information provided was the address and key codes for the doors. She recognized the address as one of the newer mid rise condominium buildings in Downtown Crossing, Boston.

With her remaining time, Tien left an encrypted voice message on the web site. Informing her superiors of Joanne's betrayal and Dylan's defection. Once she was done, she deleted all the computers' tracking information, then issued a command for a program she had downloaded to delete everything on the computer before corrupting the operating system. Dylan, looking over her shoulder, was impressed with her work. “Very clever. Unfortunately DHS engineers can put most of the data back together in a matter of hours. They won't get the information on your communications. But they could pick up enough tidbits to put pieces of the puzzle together,” he said.

Tien frowned, “It'll have be good enough. At least it buys us more time.”

“Yeah, but here's an old trick us software engineers like to do.” Dylan winked at her while he unplugged the laptop. Being careful not to be seen by the woman at the desk, he scrapped off the white plastic label and swapped the computer with the identical laptop from the adjacent desk. Tien couldn't help but smile at his boyish charm.

They walked out of the cafe saying good night to the young woman. Once outside they made a beeline for the Davis Square train station.