Operation Mockingbird (28 page)

“Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Matt finally said. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

By this time, they had reached the end of the hallway leading to the exit. They were in a large room with more supplies, another generator and some commercial pruning equipment. On the other side of the room, the concrete flooring rose up to a steel door that had a red exit sign above it. They headed toward the door. When they reached
the landing, they looked at the keypad. Instead of a solid red or green, the keypad flashed on and off.

Alex looked at Matt, her eyes wide. “It looks like the system is down,” she said.

“Probably a by-product of Patrick’s nasty little virus,” Matt replied. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The door was bolted from every conceivable angle. He started with the top, then the bottom and finally the side. He turned the door handle slowly. He tensed, fully expecting an alarm to go off. Only sunlight greeted him as he pushed open the door. The brightness momentarily blinded him, causing him to squint and reach up to shield his eyes. Fresh air, the hushed and tranquil light portending the end of the day and the soft buzz of insects greeted him. He turned to smile back reassuringly at Alex.

He was still looking at Alex when he heard what sounded like a firecracker. He felt a sharp pain in his left thigh and looked down. He watched as blood began to darken his jeans. He looked back up at Alex. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth, unsmiling. His leg gave out and he fell to the ground.

“Back. Back,” Matt said from the ground. Alex and Matt both scrambled back into the safety of the room they had just attempted to leave.

“Lock the door,” Matt shouted after he kicked it closed with his good leg. Alex reached across his body and quickly slid a steel bar into place.

Once safely in the room, Matt slumped heavily against Alex. The urgency of the last several seconds had distracted him from his throbbing head and leg, but now the pain
threatened to overwhelm him. Spots appeared before his eyes. The room began to spin. He felt Alex grip him under both shoulders. He saw her dig her feet into the floor and watched as his legs were dragged along the concrete floor and toward the wall opposite the door. After he had gone a few feet, Alex fell to the ground behind him.

Matt shook himself alert. He gingerly reached up and touched the back of his head and then moved his hand to the front of his face. Squinting in the light, he saw there was no blood. He peered down at his leg. The bullet went clean through his thigh, but the wound was bleeding profusely.

Matt’s eyes scanned the room. He spotted a half-opened box of clothes.

“Alex, grab me something from that box.”

She quickly rummaged through the box and handed him a long-sleeved T-shirt. He rolled the shirt up and wrapped it hard around his thigh, tying the sleeves together into an improvised bandage. He groaned as he tightened the sleeves.

Alex jumped up while Matt rose unsteadily. “Can you walk?” she asked.

Matt attempted a few steps. “Slower than I’d like but, yeah. Let’s go.”

WHAM!

The sound was deafening. Matt grabbed Alex and pressed her against the wall. He wrapped his body around her, absorbing most of the impact from the debris flying around them.

After a few seconds, he turned to look back at the door. Through a curtain of dust and debris he saw light flood in where the door hung open on its shattered frame.

“What was that?” Matt asked.

“Sounded like C-4 plastic explosives. Probably at the hinges.”

Matt fumbled toward the boxes of supplies that he had seen earlier stacked against the wall. He upended the first one and when it fell down to the floor next to him, he ripped it open. Inside was an assortment of tools. A wrench. A screwdriver. Rummaging through the contents, Matt finally found something useful. He handed Alex a pair of safety goggles before putting a pair on himself. Covering their mouths against the dust that filled the air, they both watched the doorway, waiting for what was to come.

Two men with bandannas tied around the bottom halves of their faces rushed in. Both men tightly gripped handguns, their arms fully extended. The men scanned the room wildly. Their eyes hadn’t adjusted yet from the bright sunlight to the dimly lit room. Matt grabbed the wrench sitting on the floor next to him and threw it to the opposite corner of the room.

Muzzle flashes erupted like strobe lights. Bullets ricocheted off the walls. Smoke and the smell of cordite swirled around them. Simultaneously, Matt and Alex both raised their guns. They each fired off a shot at the nearest man. Both shots hit their marks, and the men went down.

Matt and Alex scrambled over to the men and reached for their weapons. When Matt reached down for the gun on the floor that the man nearest him had dropped, the
man reached up, caught Matt around the neck and flipped him onto his back. Matt looked up and into the face of Cole Harrison. The other man’s face was red with rage, his lips pressed into a sneer. He improved his hold around Matt’s neck and then began to squeeze tightly.

Blows by Matt to Harrison’s body seemed to have no effect. Matt clawed at Harrison’s hands, but he couldn’t release the vise grip. Harrison continued to squeeze firmly around Matt’s neck while at the same time pressing his head hard against the concrete floor. Dark circles swirled before Matt’s eyes.

Matt frantically scanned the floor with his hands for something to use against Harrison. His fingers slapped, brushed and scraped against the cement floor in search of something. Anything. Finally, his fingertips brushed against the cold steel butt of the gun Harrison had dropped. He took one last gasp of breath and stretched until he was able to grab the handle of the gun. He pulled it toward him.

“Step back,” Matt croaked weakly as he looked past Harrison and to Alex who had come up behind him. She hesitated and then slowly stepped back. Matt pulled the trigger. Harrison’s face immediately registered rage, and then shock. And then nothing. He collapsed heavily across Matt.

From underneath, Matt pushed the body off and scrambled away. He heaved himself into an upright sitting position on the ground. Alex came over to him while Matt continued to gasp for breath. He looked up to see Jack Rabin slowly emerge from the shadows.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

RABIN STOPPED DIRECTLY behind Alex and pressed his gun firmly against her cheek. “Drop your weapons,” he commanded.

“Do it,” he urged when neither one of them moved.

Matt slowly put his gun down on the floor. He looked over and saw Alex follow his lead.

“Kick it over to me, Matt,” Rabin commanded. “Now!”

With both of their weapons now at his feet, Rabin shoved Alex toward Matt, who caught her before she fell to the ground. Matt stumbled on his week leg but then regained his balance. Rabin reached down and picked up both their weapons. He removed the clips from both guns and placed them in his vest pocket. He checked the weapon chambers to confirm there were no unspent cartridges and then threw the useless weapons in the corner.

Rabin then stepped back. He looked them over while at the same time scanning the room. His gaze briefly stopped at Cole Harrison lying dead on the floor but quickly moved on.

“Rabin, it’s over,” Matt finally said. “The virus has destroyed your network.”

Rabin didn’t respond. He walked over to a workbench along the wall.

“By now, the program we loaded has exposed your little project,” Matt continued.

“You can’t take back what’s on the Internet,” Alex said. “Thousands of people know the truth. Millions will know by morning.”

“I know that, Alex,” Rabin stated as he surveyed the contents of the workbench, occasionally picking up things and putting them in his pocket.

“My job is over,” Rabin continued. “But I always knew it would come to an end at some point.”

“Then why don’t you just let us go?” Alex asked.

“Why would I do that?” Rabin asked with what sounded like a touch of amusement. “Particularly, when we have some unfinished business.”

Rabin turned around. In his hands, he held a roll of electrical tape, a pair of needle-nose pliers and a box of industrial razor blades.

“Alex, I’d like you to tie Matt’s hands together with this,” Rabin said as he tossed the roll of electrical tape to her. She instinctively caught it.

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll shoot Matt in the head,” Rabin replied as he raised the gun and pointed it at Matt.

After a moment, Alex stepped behind Matt. He heard a ripping noise as she unrolled and applied the tape. Rabin checked her work and then grabbed the roll of tape from
her. As Rabin turned to toss the roll of tape onto the worktable, Matt felt Alex slip something cool between his wrists. Cool and smooth. Like glass. It was the camera lens he had used earlier to get them into the computer building.

Rabin turned back and shoved her away. Stepping closer to Matt, he delivered a powerful kick to Matt’s right leg. Matt doubled over in agony. Blood started to ooze down his thigh from the re-opened wound. Matt fell to the ground, and Rabin roughly dragged him to the corner of the room.

The pain was excruciating. Matt was lying on the floor jackknifed at the waist. He smelled the coppery odor of blood and felt a spasm in his stomach. Opening his eyes, Matt stared into the dead eyes of Harrison lying next to him on the floor. He quickly turned his face away.

“Despite your admirable efforts,” Rabin said from above him. “I suspect we have some time before the authorities make their way here to the compound and even longer before they find their way to this location.”

Matt looked up to see Rabin grab for Alex, catching her around the waist and dragging her toward a table on the other side of the room. Rabin used the other arm to grab the tape sitting on the table and then sweep the table clean of the remaining debris sitting on it. Rabin threw Alex on to the table. Alex grunted when she hit the table hard.

Rabin was ignoring Matt now, no doubt aware that he was no threat. Matt tried to rise again. This time his leg responded by screaming in protest. Matt brought his hands underneath his body. Now using fingers and abdominal muscles, Matt pushed himself upright. He was finally able
to rise to a sitting position. He used his legs to push himself closer to the corner of the room. Using his good leg, he pushed his back against the wall and attempted to inch his way up. The one leg wasn’t strong enough, and he couldn’t put any pressure on the other leg. Matt fell back down to a sitting position, groaning when he felt the impact reverberate throughout his aching body.

When Matt opened his eyes again, he saw Alex struggling from atop the table. She was kicking and screaming, her body flailing about the table, while Rabin attempted to subdue her. She was losing the fight. Rabin was much stronger and only seemed to enjoy her efforts.

Matt decided to try another tack. He pulled his wrists against the tape. The binds were tight and his wrists were separated by only a few millimeters. He twisted his wrists and rubbed the heels of his hands up and down against each other. There was very little movement. The bindings were simply too tight. He continued pressing his hands apart, straining against the binding, until it was enough. With his fingers he pushed the lens between the palms of his hands and against the tape.

Alex struggled out of Rabin’s grip and off the table. From the other side of the table, she stared wide-eyed at Rabin. She then made a charge for a screwdriver that was in the open box sitting on the floor. She now stared at Rabin from across the table with a weapon in hand. Rabin pushed the table hard toward her and slammed Alex against the wall. She doubled over.

Rabin quickly reached across the table and grabbed the hand with the screwdriver. He twisted. With his other
hand, he easily deflected a weak blow Alex attempted with her free arm. Rabin twisted harder. A guttural sound erupted from Alex before she dropped the screwdriver.

Rabin pulled her to his side of the table and slammed her down again. Her head pounded the hard surface and a moan escaped her lips.

“Alex, you don’t have to make this so difficult.” Matt heard Rabin say.

Matt held the lens in the heels of his hands and began to slice at the electrical tape. With the effort, the room began to sway in front of him. He had lost a lot of blood. He didn’t have much time.

Rabin grabbed Alex’s hands and pulled them over her head. Alex began to flail about and kick her legs. Rabin punched Alex hard in the face with his closed fist. Her body immediately sagged and she stopped moving. Rabin placed his gun down on the table beside her and used the electrical tape on her arms. He methodically tied each of them to one corner of the table.

“Let her go,” Matt said as he continued to struggle furiously with the piece of glass. “It’s over. You’ve got nothing to gain from this.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Matt,” Rabin said as he moved down to Alex’s legs, which were hanging lifelessly over the edge of the table. Alex moaned when Rabin touched her left leg but Rabin was able to easily secure it to the table leg before moving on to her right leg.

The pressure from the camera lens against the tape kept pushing the glass back into the palm of Matt’s hands. Each time, though, Matt inched the sharp edge of the lens
back up toward his wrists and moved it urgently against the tape.

“Come on, Alex, wake up,” Rabin said after he had firmly secured her to the table. He gently slapped her face. She groaned weakly, but her eyes remained closed. “Matt, how’s your view?” Rabin said over his shoulder.

“I’m going to get a tremendous amount of satisfaction from what I’m about to do to Alex and then to you.” Rabin said as he grabbed a bottle of water from the hurricane supplies. He twisted the top off and splashed the water in Alex’s face. Alex’s head rose from the table and she began sputtering. Now fully awake, she struggled frantically against the bindings.

“You aren’t going to get away with this,” Matt said as he continued to saw furiously at the electrical tape.

He pulled his wrists apart and felt less resistance. The lens slipped from his palms. The soft clink when the glass hit the concrete floor was deafening to Matt. He looked over at Rabin.