Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (31 page)

His thoughts galloping, Scott got hold of Pam and ordered her to have a full security detail around the next building over, 24/7, with heavy weapons and tanks. This building and its secrets had to be protected at all times, no matter what. Like Churchill once said, to protect one secret you have to surround it with a thousand lies. This was the edge Scott was looking for, and he wasn’t about to lose it due to lack of security like so many times before in history. Misdirection was key. Spies would attempt to get into the most heavily defended building based on the supposition that it contained the most valuable secrets.

“Karl. No one is to discuss this outside this building. Any and all information is to be placed in secure pads with no Wi-Fi, only hardwire between pads.”

“Right, good idea. I’ll also limit the number of pads we use so we can keep track.”

“I’d say download all the data each day into one pad and disintegrate the remainder. That way we only have one pad to guard, and no possibility of someone getting their hands on the others.”

“Very good point, but that’s going to take a lot of pads.” Karl smiled. “The manufacturer’s going to love you. We’ll also need a separate special security detail to protect that one pad at all times.”

“What puzzles me most is, how on earth did something as important as this end up as a carnival ride in some second-rate city?” Scott mused.

“I’m sort of going with the theory that some corporation grabbed this thing, but couldn’t get the secret of how it works out of the inventor. In the end, some bureaucrat just dumped it as a losing proposition.”

“Could be, Karl, but that doesn’t feel right. These rings are a world changer.”

“Agreed. But at least one of the corporations knows by now that we have the rings, so you can bet they’ll try to get their hands on any information we have by any means necessary.”

“Somehow we need to make the Alpha pad idiot-proof, so even if they do somehow get their hands on it they can’t access the data.”

“Between our new computer wiz kid, Lady Jane, or one of her sisters, they might be able come up with a foolproof security system. Those AI’s are just plain spooky in how human they are.”

“At least they can’t be bought, bribed, or forced to give up the data.”

“Right. I’ll have to see about providing security for the Ellises, if he’s still alive and once we have him.”

As he started walking to the building’s door, Scott stopped midstride. “Karl! I want a communications jammer placed on the roof, under the floor.”

“Huh?”

“If these people have a way of making ultra-miniature spy cams, or listening devices, they might be in the clothes of anyone coming into this building.”

“Shit! You’re right. We should also have everyone change into hazmat suits when they come into the building … in case they manage to smuggle in a recording device the bug zapper won’t kill.”

“Good point. Let’s do it.”

“I’ll get maintenance to build an airlock room for people to change in before they enter.”

“Until we have one hundred percent control, whatever that is, we shouldn’t take any chances this technology falls into the wrong hands.”

“S’truth, you got that right.”

* * * * * *

It was hard to obtain the access code for the rehab database, even with President Westwood’s assistance. The religious elite hating giving up data, even to the president himself. Finally, Westwood had to admit he couldn’t get the data. Scott smiled and thanked him, then called now-Lieutenant Allway.

“How are you doing, Lieutenant?” He saw her smile on the little screen of his comm unit, and smiled in return.

“Very well, sir. How can I help you?” Scott explained his problem, seeing her frown when he mentioned the SSP.

“Give me an hour, and I’ll have the data you need. Is there anyone in particular you’re looking for, sir?”

“I’ll give you that in person when you have the lists.” Allway instantly understood, and nodded before signing off. True to her word, she had the data in less than an hour, and came to Scott’s office in person.

The number of facilities was incredible, and put the old Soviet Union gulags to shame. The list of people detained in them ran into the millions, but within four minutes, Allway found the professor was being held at a rehabilitation center outside what was once San Diego. He’d been there for eight years on unspecified charges.

I don’t like it, Scott,” Gunny Brock grumbled. “This guy, Ellis, was supposed to stay buried, probably until he talked.”

“I agree. Have Pam whistle up those SAS boys and girls. Tell them they have a hostage rescue op. Have them put a full team together, full weapons, and let’s go get him. Kat and I will look for the professor’s wife and see if she can help us.”

“What are the ROEs?”

“The rules of engagement are: they do whatever is necessary to get Professor Ellis out of that place alive, up to and including killing anyone who gets in their way. Clear?”

Brock grinned. “That will make those bloodthirsty SAS types happy.” Brock keyed his comm unit and relayed the orders, turning his wrist unit so Scott could see and hear her reply.

“On my way, sir,” Pam touched her beret in a salute, and even in the small screen, Scott could see her grinning from ear to ear. With orders like that, Scott knew if anyone got in the way of the SAS and their objective, they’d be in the hospital or dead.

With Kat driving the shuttle, Scott took off for New Los Angeles with Janet and four armed security personnel, with orders not to spare the horsepower. He wasn’t sure why he was hurrying … just a feeling. With the spies hanging around, he was betting the news they had the rings and were looking for the inventor would travel fast. It was just a question of if he could get to Ellis before the news got out. Kat took him at his word, and disturbed a lot of fish as they crossed open water, going hypersonic all the way. She slowed when the coast of California came up on the scope, hearing traffic control screaming in her ear about violations of traffic law.

“Blow it out your ear, asshole,” she muttered, then changed it to “Oops” when three security cruisers came streaking toward her, red and blue lights flashing like starbursts.

“You will follow us and set down at the designated point. If you refuse to cooperate, we will tractor your ship down, is that clear?” someone shouted over the comm link.

“They sound a little pissed off,” Scott said. “Better do as they say, Kat, and stay out of sight. I’ll do the talking. Janet, lock and load, just in case,” he added, seeing the security team cocking their weapons and lowering their face shields.

Ten minutes later they landed on the pad at the La Jolla security station, and Janet cracked the hatch to admit an angry-looking man in the gray uniform of the State Security Police. He didn’t look happy.

“Who in the name of Allah is piloting this craft?” he demanded, smacking his shock baton into the palm of his hand and looking mean.

“I was, why?” Scott answered as he lounged on the padded acceleration couch.

“Then you are in deep trouble, citizen, for violating twenty different traffic regulations.”

After the bright California sun, it took a moment for the man’s eyes to become accustomed to the low light in the cabin. When they did, he saw the other five, black-clad occupants. He didn’t need a calculator to tell him who these people were, or that they held something that might be weapons. He looked at his shock baton for a moment, and had the sense to power it down and slip it back into its holster. His partner bumped him in the back as he came aboard, pushing him aside.

“What in the name of Muhammad’s hairy balls is going on here?” he demanded. This one was of a higher rank by the look of the silver bars on his shoulders, but Scott wasn’t familiar with the rank system to tell what it was. The man looked around the cabin, taking in the silent, still figures in black.

“We’re on official government business,” Scott said, “so if you have a complaint, send it to President Westwood or the World Council, now get off my ship!”

“See here, who the hell do you think you are talking to! You think you can talk to me that way and get away with it?” The man let out a nasty laugh. In answer, one of the black figures took a step forward.

“The admiral said leave. Which way do you want to go, vertical, or horizontal?” a distinctly female voice asked.

Both men did a double take, then grinned at each other. “Oh I get it,” silver bars said. “You’re one of the slit-tail bitches that’s whoring on that island down south?” the younger one asked. Scott winced. That was the wrong thing to say to Janet, even as a joke, but she didn’t move.

“Do you have such a thing as life insurance, or a dental plan where you work?” Scott asked in a soft voice. He lounged back against the cushions, hands behind his head, and placed his feet on the other end, secretly enjoying the coming confrontation.

“I don’t know what life insurance is, but we do have a great dental plan, why do you ask mister?” silver bars answered in a belligerent tone.

“Because, if you don’t apologize for that remark, you’re going to find out just how good the plan is.”

“Don’t give me any of the polepucky, we’ve heard how tough you think you are and don’t buy it for one second,” he sneered. “If it wasn’t for that … that
thing
the slit-tail is holding, she would be in the rehab center right now for a beating for talking to me like that.”

“Janet,” Scott said, without having to specify what.

Janet clicked the safety on and snapped her rifle into the rack before removing her helmet, shaking her dark hair out as she placed the helmet on the jump seat. Silver bars grinned, whipping out his baton.

“So you want to try me, slit-tail, do you? Well, come on bitch!” he snapped, and jabbed with the business end. Janet grabbed it and held on, seeing the man’s smile broaden as he flipped the control to full power.

“Silly cunt!” He chuckled maliciously. The baton hummed, but Janet’s hand only shook a little as her body took the charge. The man’s smile slipped. There was sufficient current running through the end of the baton to knock a normal man or woman unconscious in a second. With a jerk, Janet pulled the baton out of his hand and bent it in two, hearing the snap-crackle of electrical discharge as she did. After that, it went into the corner with a thud.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“You slit-tailed crackslut!” he yelled, and swung his fist, catching Janet full force on the chin. He looked at her in shock while she casually shook her head, and looked at him again.

“As I said, anything else?”

“Tony, apologies to the bitc— female, and let’s get out of here!” the junior man said, tugging at his partner’s sleeve.

“Good advice, Tony,” Scott commented. “I suggest you take it.”

Tony was still looking at his fist, shaking it to relieve the pain, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. With a soft moan, he charged straight at Janet. She stepped to one side, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him headfirst into the cabin’s steel bulkhead. He dropped like a poleaxed steer, without a sound.

“Would you be so kind as to pick up your partner and take him to the nearest hospital. I think he’s in need of immediate medical attention,” Scott commented, examining his nails.

The other man looked at him, then at Janet as she picked up the unconscious man and held him out like a sack of potatoes. Walking over, he got his shoulder under the load of his partner, grunting when she let go, and staggered out of the cabin. The moment he was clear she sealed the hatch, and Scott signaled Kat to take off, this time staying in the traffic pattern and observing the speed limit.

“Thank you for your restraint, Janet. I thought for a moment you were going to rip his head off and hand it to him.”

“The thought did cross my mind, sir, but I decided against it. It would’ve made a mess all over the cabin, and some poor sucker, probably me, would’ve had to clean up the mess.”

“Good thinking, Marine,” Scott said, joining in the general laughter.

Kat landed the shuttle in the community parking lot near the address, and the moment it touched down Scott exited with two of his security team, walked up the dirty road to the house, and checked the number before he knocked. Unlike the squalor of that city street, the street here looked normal, a little seedy perhaps, with kids playing on the sidewalk and people carrying bags of something as they walked past. Here, people passed by on bicycles or electric scooters, all looking at them curiously, some with fear in their eyes. He knocked again, but there was still no answer.

“She’s not in, sir!” a muffled female voice called. Looking around, Scott saw what had to be the source: a lump in the shape of a person stood in the next doorway.

“Do you know when she will be back?” he asked.

“I do not know, honored sir, they came and beat her again last night, and this morning they took her to the medical center.”

“Who beat her, and who took her to the medical center?”