Edge Of The Future Page 10

  “Hi, honey. We missed your last call, so it’s our turn now. How are you? Are you growing a beard?” She tilted her head and leaned closer to the screen. “You look a little pale.”

  “I’m great, Mom. Been busy. Did Gina bring you up to date?”

  “Yes, dear. Sorry to hear your leave’s been canceled. We were so looking forward to seeing you. Gina says you have a roommate now?”

  Mark hung his head in resignation, as Axel moved into view.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Warren. I’m Axel Von Radach, pleased to meet you.” Axel flashed his most charming pearly white smile.

  “My pleasure, Axel. And please, call me Leslie.” Again, she tilted her head, moved closer to the screen, studying Axel. “Gina was right.” Her manner grew serious. “I don’t know where you’re at, or why. You will keep my son safe, won’t you, Sgt. Von Radach?” Leslie Warren hadn’t asked a question; it had been a statement of fact.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m his wingman.”

  His response brought a slight smile to her face. “Well, I have an early patient scheduled for an emergency extraction, so I need to leave. Your dad already left. He’s due in court today. You know how he hates that. One of his patients was abused by a family member. He has to testify this morning. We love you, Mark. Be careful. Take care, boys.” She blew them a kiss. Her image blinked out.

  “Your mom’s nice. Pretty, too, just like your sister. How did she know you weren’t at CAMRI?”

  “I don't know. She’s always been like that. It’s why I still try not to lie to her. You can’t imagine growing up in a family where your dad’s a child psychologist, and your mom’s a human lie detector. We were all in trouble, constantly.”

  The vid screen blinked on with a TMD insignia, followed by an image of Deering sitting in a cramped office with the major.

  In the meantime, Axel opened the door for Eva and Kamryn, who took seats, waiting for the vid stream to begin.

  Deering began. “We’ve devised passwords for each of you, ones easily remembered. If you can’t, write it down somewhere nobody will see it, like on the bottom of your foot,” she joked. “They will appear in a ribbon at the bottom of your screen for this communication only, so be quick.”

  The doctor was dressed in wrinkled blue scrubs, his silver hair mussed, a surgical mask draped around his neck. “Again, I have good news, and bad news. First, TMD traced some of the parts of that now dissected cyborg to a factory in Malaysia. They were using slave labor. We were able to exert enough leverage to shut down the plant, freeze all their assets, plus arrest the owners for crimes against humanity. To avoid an international incident, the principals were turned over to us and are on Terran soil, about to undergo questioning, momentarily.”

  He closed his eyes, shook his head, before continuing. “There’s no way to soft-pedal the next part. A person fitting Beth Coulter’s description worked in a Houston facility designing neural implants up to just about the time of the Europa mission’s failure. All video and DNA traces of this person were eradicated from their system. Her image has been positively identified by current employees. Some of the implants produced by that facility have been traced to twenty-eight current military personnel stationed in all three of the Lunar Bases. These people are quietly being collected. They’ll be sent to a classified military hospital here on Terra for newly constructed replacements as we speak. All this information has been sent to Dimitrios at Headquarters in Virginia, as well as Yates on Lunar 3. Extremely good work people.”

  “Major, a moment, please. I, for one, would like to know who vetted Beth Coulter for hiring in Houston and CAMRI. Have you searched for connections between any of the people involved, financial or otherwise?"

  "On that point," he chuckled, "all I can tell you is that a bunch of butts are in the frying pan, and it's being held by Dimitrios, himself."

  "Sir, may I have copies of all the military and medical reports compiled on the CAMRI assault.

  “For what reason?”

  “Bedtime reading. I have one of those elusive feelings that I know something, just can’t zero in on it yet. Maybe perusing the report will help jog it loose.”

  The major nodded to Deering.

  “Oh, by the way, were you aware that she spoke three languages. English, French, and German?”

  “German?”

  “Yes, I overheard her speaking it several times—on her comm.”

  “Watch your butts. I’d hate to lose any of you. Torance out.”

  ***

  Axel approached Mark. “You been drinking?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. Woke up three times. Just trying to quiet my thoughts.”

  “Grab a shirt. We’re going to the gym. Maybe if you work out enough, you won’t have that problem.”

  Mark didn’t argue.

  They jogged to the gym, completed a full circuit, followed by a trip to the mats for a friendly little wrestling match. After peeling off their shirts and shoes, Axel let Mark make the first move. It was all out war. They hadn't spared since Axel’s teachable moment—or Mark’s attitude adjustment—depending or Mark’s attitude adjustment– depending on your point of view. It surprised him Mark didn’t seem to harbor a grudge or any resentment. Although Mark outranked him, the captain had still disobeyed orders. Technically, Axel had saved his butt first, then delivered punishment for the offense. The whole episode was a gray area.

  Today they engaged in Freestyle, or standup wrestling, which allowed using their legs in offense and defense, merging several different techniques. Trying to escape a hammerlock, Axel twisted, rolled back, immobilizing Mark in a head scissors arm hold. “Did you and your brother wrestle?”

  “Yeah,” Mark grunted, trying to squirm out of Axel’s grasp. “And skied, fished, climbed boulders, scuba-dived, played pool, chess.” He slapped the mat twice to signal submission. Axel released the hold. They both stood.

  “I’m sorry…about your brother. I think I would have liked him.”

  “I think he would have liked you, too…sweetcakes.”

  Axel saw the glint in Mark’s eyes—too late.

  Mark lunged, grabbing Axel’s knees. He swept his left leg out, knocking Axel off balance, pushing him down. Mark pounced on top, holding Axel’s arms down with his knees and a forearm across his throat—all in just seconds.

  “Well, that was fun,” Axel grunted, remembering when he’d performed the exact move on Mark.

  “Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?” Mark rolled off Axel onto the mat and broke out in unreserved laughter.

  Axel chuckled, stood, extended a hand to Mark. Both were breathing heavy, muscles pumped, glistening with sweat. Axel realized he missed combat. This was how it felt. Two gladiators walking off the field of battle. Victorious, adrenalin flowing, comradery.

  They heard hands clapping, turned in unison to see a smiling McDonnell in exercise togs. “An amazing display. You two should make a vid and sell it. You looked like two wild animals going at each other, a fight to the death, then finished by collapsing in laughter. I’m impressed.”

  In less than a heartbeat, Mark replied, “I’m glad we were able to provide you with some entertainment while you worked out.”

  Axel gritted his teeth and tossed Mark’s shirt at him.

  “If you’re done here, I can give you a ride back to your quarters.”

  Axel watched the two officers play a cat and mouse game, while his gut was telling him somebody would burn in hell before this was all over. When Axel had asked for this assignment, he had no idea how hard it would be to keep Capt. Mark Warren out of trouble. Women, booze, and gambling. Damn if it didn’t look like he was addicted to all three. Regardless of his IQ, he just didn’t have his shit together.

  When they arrived, Mark waved Axel away. “See you back at the lab.”

  Axel vigorously shook his head and drew a finger across his throat.

  Mark opened the door to his quarters for the lieutenant and followed her in.

  Axel rare
ly, if ever, felt as helpless as he did at this moment.

  ***

  Mark checked his tablet. He found files waiting for him from Petra. He fought the urge to open them.

  Scarlett’s tablet pinged. “I have to go. There’s a meeting.”

  He moved to the door, leaned back on it and crossed his arms. “I want you to have dinner with me this evening. Your choice. Anytime. Anywhere.”

  The auburn-haired beauty studied him long enough to make a normal man squirm. But Mark held his ground.

  “All right. I’ll comm you later. Let you know when.”

  He moved to open the door. She walked out ever so slowly. Their attraction hung in the air, making it almost impossible to breathe. He watched her drive away, humming to himself.

  Afterward, Mark showered, dressed, stretched out on the couch, and started reading the files Petra had sent. Page after page, he encountered a few interesting facts, but nothing illuminating. On page fifty-two of an AAR, After Action Report, he ran across an entry citing the reason CAMRIs security forces hadn’t responded. They’d been notified of a fictitious meeting, and the room had been tranq gassed. He stopped. In the lab, he’d made puny attempts at misdirecting the audio and video devices for the purposes of thwarting a spy. What he hadn’t considered was a more overt avenue of interference—the air supply.

  He checked the report. CAMRIs personnel had been unconscious for an hour. Using the same gas would give the assailants plenty of time to download, copy or directly transmit all Eva’s data, including her new formula. There would be an investigation, with the possibility someone might be caught. All the previous terrorists had been expendable. Maybe the same rule would apply here.

  Neural implants. A few lines of code—sent to an implant in an engineering technician, ordering them to pop a tube of tranquilizer gas into an air supply hose and then forget about it.

  He commed Eva. Got no answer. Commed Axel and Kamryn. Still no answer. He checked for a warning of CMEs. There was none.

  Mark strapped on his sidearm, grabbed his new gun, slipped it into his shoulder holster, snatched his jacket, and tablet before sprinting out the door. He kept trying to reach Eva. Poor little Eva. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. He poured on the speed and slid up to the retinal scanner. The door opened. The lab looked empty. He ran around to the far side of the center island workstation.

  Oh, Shit.

  All three of them were lying on the floor.

  Lifeless.

  He dropped to his knees. Checked Eva’s carotid. A pulse. But faint. His worst fears were coming true. He slipped and fell on the floor. He reached up to grab the counter, trying to pull himself up. It was almost impossible.

  Gassed. He felt the walls closing in.

  He sent a message to Petra: HELP LAB GAS

  He sank to the floor. Fought to stay awake. Images floated in and out of his mind. Bad ones. Nightmares. No, memories.

  Mark banged his head against the cabinet. Pain. Again. More pain. It helped.

  Must stay lucid.

  He pulled out both guns. One in each hand. Protect Eva.

  No. Protect Gina. He was looking for Gina. In a rundown house on the seedy side of Portland. She was using drugs. First prescription pills for her knee. Then street drugs. Now he didn’t even want to know what she was using. Just wanted to find her. Alive. And bring her home.

  Mark heard a noise. Peered around the island’s corner.

  Two men were coming for Gina.

  He banged his head against the cabinet again. Time stood still. He saw two men walk to the data center and begin taking things. In a superhuman effort, Mark stood. He tried to make a noise. Hatred or fear strangled him. He banged a gun on the counter. Both men turned toward him. He looked straight at them, then shot them both.

  One dropped to the floor. The other came at Mark.

  A vivid shade of red was all Mark saw as he attacked the man who had come for Gina. He picked him up and slammed him into the wall, then with both hands around his neck he squeezed until he could hear his own voice screaming, “Leave. Gina. Alone.”

  His body was on fire. Death by electrocution.

  At least he had saved Gina.

  He fell into a deep, deep well of darkness.

  ***

  “Capt. Warren, can you hear me?”

  “Gina?”

  “No, I’m Dr. Illingsworth. Do you know where you are, Capt. Warren?”

  After a long silence, Mark answered, “Moon.” He tried to open his eyes. He couldn’t.

  “Yes. And you’ve been injured.”

  “I can’t see—why can’t I see?” Mark tried to lift his arm. He couldn’t do that either.

  “You had to be subdued.”

  “Subdued—what do you mean subdued? You’re not answering my questions. Why. Can’t. I. See?”

  “You were attacking someone in your lab. You refused to stop and had to be stunned into submission. As an unintended consequence, it seems to have affected your sight. We believe it’s only temporary.”

  “Your bedside manner sucks. What kind of a quack are you?” He kept pulling on his arms, trying to free them. It dawned on Mark he was being held down with restraints. Now he felt afraid.

  “That’s uncalled for, Cap—”

  “Where are my colleagues?” He heaved with all his strength to free his right arm from whatever held it down.

  “They’re being held.”

  “Held? What the hell is wrong with you people?” Mark exerted every ounce of rage he could muster, and ripped his arm free from its restraint. He reached for his face, pulled the bandages away from his eyes. Fuzzy. He saw fuzzy figures. Oh, thank god. He wasn’t totally blind. He lashed out, grabbing the first thing he touched, and flung it away. He heard a tremendous crash.

  “Release my friends. Now. Before I tear this place apart.” He grabbed a handful of the electrodes connected to his body and wrenched them off. “And get me a real doctor, or I’ll wrap these around your neck and strangle you with them.” He kept grasping at everything within reach, flinging it in any direction. He heard screams and yelling in the background, while he worked to free his left arm from its restraint, then his legs. He rolled out of bed and stumbled around, scattering equipment, picking up anything that wasn’t nailed down and pitching it away from him. His chest felt tight. He found the door. It was open. He felt dizzy, steadied himself by grasping both sides of the frame. Sounds faded away. Silence.

  “Mark.” Eva’s soft small voice carried like a stage whisper.

  “Eva?”

  “I’m here.”

  Mark felt close to tears. “Are you all right?”

  “We’re all okay.”

  Mark had used up his adrenalin. Any moment, he knew his knees would buckle. Still, he reached out, only able to see vague shapes.

  Eva took his hand, patted it, then came closer, lifting his heavy arm, and draping it around her shoulders. She whispered, “You’re naked.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I can’t see.”

  “Let me help you back to bed.” Eva led him into the room, nudged him into bed and pulled up the sheet. She leaned over, wiping away the blood oozing from the open wound on his forehead, as she murmured words of comfort.

  “Axel?”

  “I’m here.” The voice belonged to Axel.

  Mark reached toward Axel, who firmly grasped his forearm. “And Kamryn?”

  “They’re still taking her statement.”

  “Gas in the air vent,” Mark said. “I thought you were all dead.”

  “Down. But not dead.”

  “Who did it?”

  “We can’t tell you.”

  Mark couldn’t make sense of anything. “Am I under arrest?”

  “Well, it looked like it for a while.” Axel chuckled. “Not anymore.”

  “Explain.”

  “We had no warning. It was odorless and invisible. We all went down within seconds of each other. We were out for about an hour. We demanded t
o see the vids. If you hadn’t sent Petra that message—”

  “And kicked ass,” Eva interjected.

  “Yeah, that’s what almost got you into trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “Can’t say.” Axel sounded cryptic.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re under orders—from Gen. Dimitrios—at TMD Headquarters.”

  “Not Yates?”

  “He’s under orders, too.”

  Chapter 11

  Torance and Buchanan sat in Harben’s office facing his vid screen. They watched, without audio, the recorded scene of the Lunar Base lab, showing three uniformed personnel drop to the floor. Warren entered, located the bodies, and became disoriented. He fell, sent a message from his tablet, drew his guns, purposely beat his head against a workstation multiple times, until he was bloody. He detected someone entering the lab. Watched as two people began downloading data, struggled to stand, and fired at them. One fell. He attacked the other, almost killing that one with his bare hands before lunar security forces invaded the room. Four soldiers used stun batons on him before he became unconscious. They watched it, twice.

  A few minutes later, the vid screen displayed a 2-way image of Dimitrios and Yates.

  Never known for his patience, Dimitrios began. “Gen. Yates has confirmed the two perpetrators were indeed the same security guards stationed at the Restricted Access Section 9 Checkpoint into the classified lab area. It was only after they were taken to the hospital and scanned that their neural implants were found. Up to that point, the men hadn’t been on the list of personnel with neural implants to be transferred off any Lunar Base. Their records were searched. No indication of this procedure for either one was in their files. How could this happen?”

  “Those men were transferred up here from Terra. That procedure was done on your soil, not mine, just like all the others. I want your people off my base. Tomorrow.” Yates wore a cantankerous scowl while drumming his fingers slightly off screen.