Mind's Eye (47 page)

Altschuler looked as though he was choking back vomit. “You’re right,” he said after several hard swallows. “We missed the obvious. We looked only at the dangers of the technology itself. We didn’t consider the greater danger of others actively trying to turn it into a weapon.”

“And now it’s too late,” said Fyfe. “As of this morning, the train has left the station. But I intend to be patient. Not show my hand. Westerners won’t view the implants as blasphemous. They won’t see they’re making themselves impure. At the same time, my fellow true believers will shun this technology as they shun other false gods. Meanwhile, I’ll be worshiped by the West,
as a god,
for giving them the toys they crave. I’ll funnel the billions I earn back into other jihadist causes. And then, when implants are as pervasive as cell phones, I’ll bring the West to its knees with a single blow.”

Fyfe enjoyed the looks of total horror on the faces of his guests. Hall had been right. It was good to share, after all.

“As should be obvious,” he continued, “Kelvin Gray didn’t come up with the idea for this project. I did. I was lucky to find a brilliant psychopath like Gray I could convince to perfect the technology, while I played the role of muscle, hiring an army of mercenaries. And I was able to plant these seeds in such a way that Gray thought the idea was his. I set him on the slippery slope and let gravity take care of the rest. He was blind to my end game.”

“What
was
your original end game?” said Altschuler.

“Nick, you’ve been quiet for a while,” said Fyfe. “Why don’t you tell him.”

Hall didn’t respond for several seconds, as though the question didn’t quite register, but he finally nodded. “His plan was to wait for Gray to perfect the technology in his human guinea pigs,” he said. “Then, knowing they had already tripped all the landmines—not caring how many people died in the process—they would conduct FDA trials with all the care in the world. Zeroing in on the perfect recipe on the first try. Flying through the trials with an immaculate safety record. When it became approved, Kelvin Gray would at some point have an accident, and Fyfe, being the majority shareholder, would vote himself CEO.”

“So what caused you to change this plan?” Heather asked Fyfe.

This time Fyfe decided to answer for himself. “When Nick escaped, we had no idea the implants were working for web surfing. He lied to Gray and said they had failed. And we had no idea about his ESP. Which I have no interest in, by the way, since this is blasphemous and would be just as destructive to Muslims as Westerners.” He shook his head. “But even when I discovered his implants were working, I still wanted to stick with the original plan. I didn’t want to create the controversy I’ve now created. I wanted to avoid any hint of taint. Even if it took an extra year or two to get the technology out.”

“Again,” said Heather. “What changed?”

“What changed is that Nick was too good. Too elusive. I became unsure that I could kill him. And if he regained his memory, he could ruin everything. But I realized I could lure him in if I sacrificed Gray a bit earlier than planned. So I played the whistleblower and hero with Alex, and set Gray up. I played both ends against the middle. As Delamater, I warned Kelvin Gray there was a man named Ed Cowan working with Alex, but that I had him in my sights. My brother, of course, was never in the sights of John Delamater. He faked a few injuries, made up a story about using martial arts to defeat Delamater’s man, and knocked on Gray’s door. He shot Gray in such a way that Alex was sure to buy everything—especially that I was one of the good guys.”

Altschuler nodded. “And you counted on me to realize we could contact Nick Hall through a backdoor Gray had set up.”

“Exactly. If you hadn’t suggested it, I would have. With Gray still alive, there was no way we could lure Nick in, regardless of an ability to message him. Not when he could read minds. But with Gray sacrificed and you pure as the driven snow, I knew Nick would read your mind and trust you implicitly. Read for himself that you were on the side of the angels. Working to right the wrongs committed by your boss. Then he would have no fear of coming in. Once he did, and was actually under my control, as Cameron Fyfe, I figured he could help us legitimize the press conference. Demonstrate the technology. Add to the story.”

“And then you could kill me at your leisure,” said Hall in disgust.

“I only wish I could have used you as my pawn for a longer period of time, but your mind reading was a real problem.”

“You were going to promote Alex to CEO at first,” said Heather. “Was that garbage from the beginning?”

“No. I wanted to stay out of the limelight as long as possible. Especially during the fallout over Gray’s experiments. I’d wait a few years until the company’s reputation had improved, let Alex weather that storm, and then see to it
he
had the accident I had planned for Gray.”

Fyfe paused. “But the emergence of this colonel who kidnapped Nick, and tried to kidnap Alex, was unexpected. And I really didn’t want this kind of variable in the equation if Alex became CEO. So I decided to take the CEO role from the start.” He shrugged. “This wasn’t the way I planned it. I wanted the
Explorer
crew forever thought to be at the bottom of the ocean, and for the world never to know about Gray’s experiments. But this way does have some advantages. I’m now seen as a whistleblower and hero. Nick did a great job of demonstrating the appeal of the technology. And the sympathy we’ll get when it’s discovered that Nick has been killed will be a big positive as well.”

“Without Nick,” said Altschuler. “Everyone will think his video was a hoax.”

“Let them. They’ll see otherwise soon enough.”

Fyfe glanced at his watch. He had planned to wait to kill them until his brother had returned. But he had waited long enough already, and it was time to begin preparing the house to burn.

“Checking your watch?” said Hall with a sneer. “What’s the matter,
asshole?
Wondering why your brother isn’t back yet?”

Fyfe met Hall’s withering stare. What was
that
supposed to mean? Was Hall just showing off his mind reading abilities further? Or did Hall really know something that
he
didn’t?

“Well, I have some bad news for you,
Hassan
,” spat Hall, emphasizing his name bitterly. “I’m afraid that your brother’s been a bit delayed.”

56

Fyfe raised his gun and pointed it at Hall’s forehead, ignoring the two weapons he had confiscated that were sitting on the workbench beside him. “Are you trying to be cute, or do you actually know something?”

Fyfe paused in thought for a moment and then pointed his gun at Heather instead. “If you haven’t convinced me you know something in three seconds, I take out Heather’s kneecap,” he said.

Hall read that he had decided threatening to maim Heather was a better strategy than threatening to kill
him
, since he had promised to end Hall’s life anyway.

Nick Hall smiled pleasantly. “No need to threaten,” he said. “I’m more than happy to tell you what I know. Your brother was captured. By Megan Emerson. About thirty minutes ago. She had a few . . . preparations . . . to make, but she’ll be calling in a few minutes to arrange for a trade.”

“Impossible! She could never find him. And even if she did, she could never capture him. Besides, she’s long gone. You’ve chosen a poor bluff.”

Hall shook his head. “I may not be a grandmaster at chess,” he said, “but you’ve done a great job teaching me to be paranoid this past week. I knew I was in over my head. You see, you’re very good. So good, I knew it would be dangerous to underestimate you. I couldn’t see how you could turn the tables like you have, but I still thought it would be good to have one last ace in the hole.” He raised his eyebrows. “Just in case.”

Hall almost smiled from the shocked expressions on the faces of his two friends, who were just as confused as Fyfe.

“Turns out I can’t read Megan Emerson. I don’t know why. Everyone wonders how she can stand being in a romantic relationship with a mind reader. Well, now you know. She isn’t. But while I can’t read her mind, we
are
able to communicate telepathically. That’s how I was able to escape Girdler. So it occurred to me it might be nice to have her as a fail-safe. She can be very effective. And she’s saved my ass before.”

Hall could tell Fyfe’s mind was racing, trying to assimilate this new information. “So her letter to you was faked?” he said.

“That’s right. We discussed our plan at length telepathically. Yet another way to have a discussion without fear of eavesdroppers. We decided she would take the guns she confiscated from Girdler’s man and leave. Buy a cheap car with my poker winnings and stay within our telepathic range. Just in case Alex and I had miscalculated. But we had never told Alex or Heather about our telepathy. Until we felt entirely safe, Megan and I decided to keep this to ourselves. And we wanted their reaction when they thought she had left me to be as genuine as possible.”

“I’ll be damned,” mumbled Altschuler. “And that’s why you had me read the letter out loud. And why you confronted Trout about failing to stop her. Just to be positive you would get the attention of those listening to the bugs. So Fyfe would think she was long gone and not factor her in.”

“Exactly,” said Hall. He had tried to force himself to cry but hadn’t quite succeeded. He had no idea how certain actors could cry on command, but this was a very impressive feat.

“So Megan didn’t sneak out on me,” continued Hall. “I
helped
her leave. I read the security password from Trout’s mind, and used this and my Internet connection to reprogram Tanya. Trout was furious the PDA didn’t alert him that Megan was leaving. I thought the way I confronted him on this was great theater, if I do say so myself. Although, to be fair, Trout didn’t know it was an act.”

 “Well played,” said Fyfe. “But there is no way that waif of an untrained civilian captured Rashid,” he insisted. “You’re still bluffing.”

Hall found it odd to think of Ed Cowan as a man named Rashid. His name was
Ed,
and he came across as the consummate American. And if Hall had been told the name Cameron Fyfe was an alias, he would have believed the man’s real name was John Delamater long before he believed it was Hassan Ahmed Abdullah. Which was entirely the point, he realized.

“Without my help, you’d be right,” said Hall. “But it was easy for me to direct Megan to your brother once he got within range. I knew from reading him he was going to fill up his gas tank. So I had her wait until then. She pretended to fill up as well, spotted him, and acted excited to see him. I read his mind. He was excited to see her too. It saved him the trouble of hunting her down and killing her later. He wasn’t the slightest bit suspicious.”

Hall shook his head condescendingly. “You’d think he might have considered just how coincidental it was to run into her. But he didn’t, not even for a moment. She asked him to get in the used car she’d just bought so she could drive behind the station, where it was more private. She said she wanted to show him something very important. Then, when I assured her his guard was down, she shot him with a tranquilizer dart. As simple as that.”

Fyfe pulled out his phone, intent on calling his brother to verify what Hall was saying.

“He won’t answer,” said Hall. “But that’s okay. Megan is dialing your number now. To discuss the terms of a trade.”

The instant Hall said this, Fyfe’s phone vibrated and indicated an incoming call, from his brother’s phone. He answered.

“Hello, Hassan,” said Megan Emerson. “Nick tells me you’re expecting my call.”

Without saying another word, Fyfe lifted one of the guns beside him on the steel workbench, pointed it at Nick Hall, and pulled the trigger.

57

“What have you done?”
screamed Megan Emerson into the phone.

“You weren’t in telepathic contact with your boyfriend when I pulled the trigger, were you?” asked Fyfe mockingly. “Because that would be cheating.”

“You killed him?”
said Megan, unable to keep the hysteria from her voice.

“No. I didn’t kill him. I used a dart. Just like I understand you did on Rashid. I was told you were calling to trade for my brother. Do you really think I’d let you stay in contact with someone who can read my mind during negotiations? Seems like an unfair advantage, don’t you think?”

“Let me talk to Alex!” she demanded.

“I’m putting you on speaker,” said Fyfe.

“Alex, is he telling the truth? Is Nick okay?”

“Yes,” said Altschuler. “So far.” He couldn’t help but admire Fyfe’s move. His quick calculation to take Hall out of play was impressive.

“Call me back in five minutes,” said Fyfe, and then ended the call.

The phone vibrated immediately, but Fyfe ignored it. Instead, he pulled a roll of gray duct tape from a drawer under the workbench and wrapped multiple layers of tape around Heather’s and Altschuler’s heads and mouths, until even a scream would have no chance of escaping.