Wired (27 page)

46

Kira’s
three companions closed their eyes with her. Precious seconds continued
ticking.

An explosion rocked the room
.

It
was intense beyond reason. The flash from the explosion was as bright as a
supernova and blinded everyone in the room, even through closed eyelids.

Desh
realized he couldn’t hear and then instantly realized something else: the
explosion had been from a stun grenade, not from the device in Kira’s head.

He
swung around to defend himself but it was too late. Two men grabbed him
roughly, one of them pressing a gun to his face. The other pulled his arms
behind his back and tightened an all too familiar plasticuff restraint around
his wrists. He knew not to resist. Deaf and blind with a gun in your cheek was
not an ideal tactical position in which to be. He was pushed roughly into the
wall and was frisked expertly, his weapons quickly removed.

Desh’s
eyesight and hearing gradually returned. The room began to come into focus once
again.

Kira Miller was standing next to him. Alive
.
And it was after ten o’clock.

Desh
and Kira had been forced next to each other, flanked by two armed commandos who
had each worn electronic earplugs and goggles during the raid. Griffin and
Metzger had been herded together about ten yards away, flanked by their own
heavily armed guards. Putnam’s bloody, bullet riddled body lay between the two
groups.

The
commandos must have arrived through Putnam’s tunnel in the basement, Desh
realized, lobbing in a few flashbangs to easily overpower the inhabitants of
the living room.

A
handsome, clean-cut civilian of average size and weight, wearing casual slacks
and a sport coat walked briskly and arrogantly into the living room. His blue
eyes were eerily calm, but there was also both a shrewdness and a menace to
them; like those of a poisonous snake just before a strike.

Kira
Miller gasped. She reached out to steady herself, having momentarily become
dizzy.

“
Alan?
”
she croaked in dismay, barely able to get the name out.

“Hello,
Kira,” he said cheerfully. “Happy to see your big brother alive?”

Kira
was too stunned to reply. She stood facing him with her mouth open.

“Or
just happy that the device Putnam put in your skull was a bluff?”

Kira’s
mind awakened from its paralysis. She didn’t understand.
Anything
. Her brother was alive! And Putnam’s bomb had been a
bluff! Her emotions were at such a fever pitch she was afraid she would explode
after all.

“Search
their pockets carefully,” Alan Miller instructed the men. “If any of them have
small pills on them, it’s important they be found.”

The
men conducted a full body search and quickly found the gellcaps Desh and
Metzger were carrying in their pockets. The soldiers handed them to a delighted
Alan Miller. He pocketed the gellcaps and turned to his sister. “Thanks, Kira. I
can use all of these I can get.”

“What’s
going on Alan?” pleaded Kira, recovering some of her equilibrium.

Her
brother grinned. “Isn’t it remarkable. As brilliant as you are and you have no
fucking clue.” He sighed. “I suppose I can spoon feed it to you. But not here. Let’s
adjourn to more comfortable surroundings—at least for me,” he said, quite
pleased with himself.

As
he finished speaking, the all-too-familiar sound of helicopters filled the
living room. “Right on schedule,” noted Alan. He gestured to the front door. “After
you,” he said.

Two
commandos raised automatic weapons and motioned them toward the door.

“What
about them?” said Kira, gesturing to Griffin and Metzger.

Alan
frowned. “They won’t be coming with,” he shouted over the incoming helicopters.
“We’ll see. If I think I can use them as leverage with you, perhaps I’ll let
them live out the day.”

Alan
Miller exited the house with his sister and Desh in tow as three helicopters
landed on Putnam’s property. The two outer choppers were of military design,
but the one in the middle was civilian. It was white with red accents and was
roughly the same size as a Blackhawk. The word
Sikorsky
was printed
tastefully on its shell. This model was very exclusive, the type used by CEOs
and heads of state, and could seat up to ten passengers in decadent luxury.

Alan
nodded at the commandos. “Secure them,” he ordered.

The
soldiers opened the door to the chopper and pushed the two captives inside. The
passenger compartment was truly spectacular: more opulent than the most
luxurious limousine. There was enough headroom to walk through the cabin
comfortably, a fully stocked bar, lacquered wood cabinetry, mirrors and inlaid
video screens. The seats were all cushioned captain’s chairs covered by the
finest leather, with burled walnut finishes, separated from each other by
spacious armrests with compartments for wine glasses and phones.

Desh moved
. He head butted one of the
commandos to the floor of the cabin and threw his shoulder into the other,
slamming him against the cockpit door. The man on the floor recovered with
remarkable rapidity and rammed his rifle into the back of Desh’s leg. Desh fell
to his knees. By this time the other soldier had recovered and landed a fierce
blow to Desh’s face. He then clutched a fistful of Desh’s hair and threw him
back into a captain’s chair at the back of the Sikorsky. “Don’t try that again,
asshole,” growled the soldier. “Next time I won’t be so gentle.”

The
soldiers proceeded to bind the two prisoners securely to the chairs. As an
added precaution one of the men strung razor wire across the aisle just below
their chins. If they moved forward the wire would slice into their necks.

When
his men reported that all was secure, Alan Miller entered the helicopter and
nodded for the commandos to leave. He opened the door to the cockpit. “Make
sure we aren’t being followed,” he directed the pilot. “Let me know if you see
anything suspicious.”

Alan
closed the cockpit door and walked a few paces to the bar. He added several ice
cubes to a cocktail glass and then calmly, deliberately, filled it with equal
parts Scotch and club soda as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Finally
he sat across from his sister and Desh and took a sip of his drink, closing his
eyes to savor it.

“Now,
that’s more like it,” he said. “No reason not to be civilized,” he added
smugly.

He
reached out and rapped on the cabin door twice, and moments later the
helicopter lifted off.

“Finally,”
said Alan Miller, “we can have a private conversation. The pilots can’t hear
anything being said in this compartment.”

The
all-enclosed cabin was carefully designed to keep the din of the helicopter
blades from encroaching, and Kira realized they would be able to converse
without shouting. Executives demanded a quiet ride and had the money to ensure
they got it.

Kira
was wounded to the depths of her soul. The pain in her eyes was profound. “It
was you all along,” she said numbly to her brother.

He
nodded. “For someone so brilliant, you don’t catch on very fast,” he commented.

“My
teachers,” she said weakly. “Mom and Dad. Uncle Kevin. It was you?”

Alan
grinned. “Who else?” he said proudly. “But don’t beat yourself up. I was the
model big brother around you. A perfect angel. Otherwise, I’m sure you’d have
at least considered a possibility so obvious it could have bit you in the ass.”

Kira
trembled and for a moment thought she might vomit. “Did anyone suspect?” she
croaked.

“Of
course,” he said. “How could they not? But I was clever. I did most of my
killing away from home. And I knew enough to cultivate a saintly image around
you
. You had the potential to be my
Achilles’ heel. I couldn’t kill you, that would arouse too much suspicion after
the other deaths. Yet if I let you glimpse my true nature, I was sure you would
put two and two together and turn me in.” He paused. “Look at the Unabomber. Brought
down by his own brother.” He shook his head in mock disgust. “Whatever happened
to sibling loyalty?”

A
tear ran down Kira Miller’s face. She had thought that nothing could hurt her
more than she had already been hurt. But she was wrong. This was the older
brother she had adored. But he had been a psychopath all the while. His had
been the ultimate betrayal, and he had made a fool of her.
How could she have been so blind?

“What’s
wrong, Kira?” he said, sneering. “Thought you were a better judge of human
nature?” His lip curled up in contempt. “You were so easy to fool. So needy.”

“You’re
a monster,” she whispered, now loathing the creature in front of her and
loathing herself even more for having cared for him so deeply.

Alan
laughed. “Someone had to balance out your nauseating self-righteousness,” he
replied. “But you know how it is. Us psychopaths don’t really see anything
wrong with our behavior. And if it makes you feel any better, Mom and Dad’s
life insurance policy was a great leg up for a struggling college student.”

She
glared at him hatefully. “So you murdered Mom and Dad and then pretended to
come to my rescue. So I would adore you even more.”

Alan
smiled serenely.

“And
then you framed me in a way that would lead people to believe that
I
was
a psychopath and responsible for these murders. Murders that
you
had
committed.”

“Nice
touch, don’t you think?”

“The
worst part of it all,” she said in disgust, “is that you made me care about
you. I loved you!” She turned her eyes away. “And you made me think I had
caused your death,” she added in outrage.

“Well,
now you know better,” he replied smoothly. “So cheer up.”

47

Thin
shades made of cherry-wood, which could be raised or lowered with the touch of
a button, were completely covering the chopper’s large windows, giving the
prisoners no indication as to their heading. The helicopter’s ride was so
smooth and the noise so unobtrusive it was easy to forget they were flying.

“So
how do you fit into all of this?” asked Desh.

“Fascinating
story,” said Alan, amused. “I was visiting my dear little sister in her condo
in La Jolla while she was working for NeuroCure. Naturally, she insisted I stay
at her place. She always did. After all, she truly adored me.”

Kira’s
eyes blazed in fury at this but she remained silent.

“She
had to go into work a few times,” continued Alan. “So, as is my nature, I
thought I would explore her place. See what I could find. Didn’t take me long
to find her false bottomed drawer with her lab notebook and gellcaps inside.” He
paused. “So I tried one,” he said simply. “It didn’t take a super-genius, which
I soon became, to grasp the possibilities.”

Desh
frowned. “So you decided to stage a break-in and steal them all.”

“Not
right away,” replied Alan with an air of superiority. “I waited until a few
months after my visit so my sister would never suspect I was responsible. And I
didn’t just take the gellcaps. I took a sample of Kira’s hair as well, in case
I ever needed it to frame her.” He looked quite pleased with himself. “I like
to plan ahead.”

Desh
shook his head in disgust. He had used a strand of the hair he had taken to
frame her for his own murder.

“Then
I waited a few days and killed Kira’s boss to throw her a head fake,” said
Alan. “When you’re under the influence of her treatment, things become crystal
clear. I was certain that if I killed Morgan, she would jump to the conclusion
that
he
had stolen the pills and was double-crossed by a powerful
partner.”

Desh
knew this was the exact conclusion Kira
had
reached. “And then you hired
Lusetti to watch her.”

“I
thought it best to leave her alone to make other ah . . . mind-blowing . . .
discoveries, and then swoop in and steal these as well. Meanwhile, I was using
her pills judiciously to set up my empire.”

“Where
does Putnam fit in?” asked Desh.

“As
I’m sure you’re aware, with intelligence this great fortunes can be amassed in
any number of ways,” he replied, swirling his drink around absently. “But if
power is your drug, pulling strings at the most powerful intelligence gathering
organization in the history of mankind has certain advantages.”

“But
why Putnam? Did you know him?”

Alan
shook his head. “While using Kira’s therapy, I broke into the personal
computers of a number of mid-level NSA operatives. Putnam was one of them. We
were like-minded and he was particularly savage. I was able to dig up enough
dirt on him to guarantee him the death sentence several times over. So I
recruited him and masterminded his climb up the ladder. We made a great team.”

“Did
you give him any gellcaps?” asked Kira.

“Of
course not,” he snapped disdainfully. “Do I look like an idiot. Putnam was far
too ruthless and ambitious to be trusted. If he ever became transformed, I was
certain he would find a way to turn the tables on me.” He paused. “The only
person I ever allowed to become transformed, other than myself, was a molecular
biologist Putnam was blackmailing. And this was done under extraordinarily
secure conditions, and only to ensure I would have an unlimited supply of your
treatment.”

“So
when Putnam was boasting about his activities, he was really describing what
you had done,” said Desh.

“That’s
right,” he replied. “We rehearsed everything he said to you. I even instructed
him to kill the man you know as Smith in front of you. Putnam had no idea why I
wanted him to pretend to be me.” Alan sneered. “But he knew better than to
question me,” he added icily.

Alan
Miller walked a few steps to the bar and began pouring himself another drink. He
turned to Desh once again. “I recruited Putnam and began building wealth and
power all the while my sister was working on extended life. I always knew what
she was up to. I made it a point to know, despite the precautions she thought
she was taking after my break-in.” He added ice to his glass and returned to
his seat. “When Lusetti reported she was closing up shop, I suspected she had
made a breakthrough.”

“So
you flew to San Diego to find out,” said Desh.

“When
I learned the secret wasn’t in her computer and would have to be coerced from
her, I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. With emphasis on
kill
,” he added sardonically. “I had
been considering faking my own death, anyway, and starting over with a new
identity that was off the grid.”

“And
you knew your sister worshipped you. So you decided to pretend to be a hostage
and use the threat of your own death as leverage.”

Alan
nodded. “It was a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself.” He paused for a
moment and his features hardened. “But I didn’t count on the memory trap she
had made,” he growled through clenched teeth. “That fucked
everything
up.” He swirled his drink and stared at it in his hand, as if mesmerized, until
he was icy calm once again.

“So
given the memory blockade, why even bother with Kira?” asked Desh. “Why not
just optimize your molecular biologist until he repeated her work, saving
yourself the headache?”

“Because
compared to my freak of a sister, he's a moron. It took him years to duplicate
her brain optimization therapy—and he had the instructions. Even enhanced, I
doubt there are even three or four scientists in the world who could duplicate
her longevity work.” He shook his head. “No, she was the only game in town. But
as if her memory trick wasn’t annoying enough, she managed to kill that dumb
bastard Lusetti and vanish from the grid. I’m man enough to admit that this
really
pissed me off,” he said with
apparent calm, but his tone couldn’t fully disguise an unmistakable
undercurrent of barely contained rage at this memory, even now. “But only for a
short while,” he added. “I regrouped. I took another of her smart pills, and I
came up with my grand plan the very next day.”

“Putnam
told us,” said Kira in disgust. “Mass sterilization of women just so you can
extend your twisted existence for a few years.”

Alan
laughed. “Mass sterilization?” he repeated in amusement. “Don’t believe everything
you’re told.”

“I
don’t understand,” said Kira.

“That’s
because you’re so sanctimonious you refuse to give yourself the very gift you
created. If you would have taken one of your own pills, you would have seen
through this ruse in an instant.” He shook his head in disappointment. “You
really are a lot less intelligent than I remembered.” He spread his hands
innocently. “Why would I possibly want to sterilize anybody?”

She
looked confused. “First, to motivate me to unlock my memories.”

Alan
shook his head. “When I enhanced myself after I had faked my death, I pondered
the likely properties of your memory prison. I realized right away that no
threat, no matter how great, would enable you to crack it.” He gestured toward
her encouragingly. “By all means, guess again.”

“Because
if you succeeded—if ours really did become mankind’s last generation—I would be
forced to give you my secret for the survival of the species. Or to Putnam, at
any rate.”

“Give
it to
Putnam
?” he hissed, as if
outraged. “Give it to
me
? Kira, you
would never give your secret to
either
one of us
. You can only unlock your memory if you truly want to. And you
would never
want to
for me or Putnam. You would bide your time, knowing
we wouldn’t kill you, until you could escape. That way you’d make sure we
didn’t hoard the secret and use it for our own ends. Make sure the entire world
was a beneficiary.” He scowled. “You and I both know that’s what you’d do.”

Kira
nodded. “You’re right,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

“Of
course I am. And if I kept you hostage and tried to
force
it out of you,
I’d be back where I started. Catch 22. So the only way I could get it is if I
let you go and you gave it to the entire world.” He paused. “And while this
would, indeed, ensure I lived longer along with the rest of the masses, I would
lose the use of the most powerful lever in history.” He smiled cruelly. “You
see, I’m a little selfish. I want the secret all to myself. To use as I see
fit.”

“I
still don’t see it,” said Kira. “The Ebola cold-virus was a bluff. The
explosive in my head was a bluff. The sterilization plot was a bluff. Why? How
do they all fit together? And what did all of these machinations buy you?”

Her
brother smiled broadly. “As it turns out, Kira . . . everything.”