BRAINRUSH 02 - The Enemy of My Enemy (45 page)

Push.

All three symbols gave way like keys on a computer. The device responded immediately, just as its twin had when he accidentally triggered it in Afghanistan. Jake felt a pulse coming from deep within the obelisk, like the hum of an immense turbine.

Battista was beside him. His hands tightened reflexively around Jake’s wrist. From the terrorist’s surprised expression, Jake knew he felt the vibrations, too. Guards rushed forward. The muzzle of an AK-47 poked into Jake’s side.

“Wait!” Battista ordered. He didn’t want to break the link with the object. Jake understood; the sensation was mesmerizing. The guards backed away. 

The obelisk warmed to Jake’s touch, and one by one, the etched images and symbols on its surface vanished, sucked into its inky blackness as if they had never existed. The small square in its center was the only remaining blemish in the polished surface. It shifted upward, protruding from the device.

Battista maintained his grip on Jake’s wrists. He leaned forward for a closer look. The object rose upward, revealing itself to be another upside-down pyramid—a duplicate mini. Jake had hoped to reach out for it and run like hell. He couldn’t do that with Battista so close at hand.

The mini rose until it was several inches above the table, hovering at eye level. Gasps from the men around Jake filled the room. Several of them stepped backward. Battista gazed at it, his eyes filled with wonder.

The tiny pyramid righted itself and spun slowly on its axis. Jake caught faint glimpses of geometric symbols and numbers appearing randomly across its surface, only to fade away with each spin. He’d seen it before; it reminded him of the Magic 8 Ball he had when he was a kid. A distant part of his mind wondered if Battista could pull the same memory from his twisted childhood.

The mini spun faster, its edges blurring like a hypnotist’s charm. Jake allowed himself to be pulled in by its allure. He knew what was coming. This time Battista would learn the truth for himself. Which was fine with Jake. As long as the terrorist leader was occupied, none of the guards was likely to plug Jake full of holes.

His scalp tingled and his hair lifted from static electricity. Jake braced himself.

A dark beam of light shot from the tip of the pyramid into Jake’s forehead. Battista’s, too.

Their heads whipped backward from the contact. To Jake it felt like his head was being overfilled with air, ready to burst. The black beam probed every corner of his brain; a flash of numbers, data, and images invaded his mind. He relaxed into it, comforted by the knowledge that Battista would be terrified by the experience. The man may be a master strategist, but his brain hadn’t been prepped by a freak accident in an MRI. Jake drifted in a black void of streaming information. It felt like every neuron in his brain fired simultaneously in response to the massive exchange of data between him and the pyramid.

Suddenly, an additional presence joined in the exchange. Not from the pyramid. From…
above!
Its existence froze the marrow in Jake’s bones. Battista gasped. His hands twitched around Jake’s wrists, trying to pull away. The object wouldn’t allow it. Rivulets of blood leaked from Battista’s bulging eyes.

It all happened in a brief instant of time, and over just as fast. The link broke, Battista sagged to the floor, and Jake snapped the mini from the air.

Time stretched. The guards moved forward with underwater slowness. Jake staggered backward. The moment he broke contact with the primary obelisk, it triggered the chain reaction that he knew would follow. A heavy throbbing emanated from deep inside. The ground shook. Keyboards and pens danced on desktops. A high-pitched vibration echoed through the building and assaulted Jake’s nervous system. The mini grew warm in his palm as it counteracted the effect. The men surrounding him weren’t so lucky. They stood frozen in place by the oscillating sound. The rapid rise and fall of their chests was the only sign they were alive. Their eyes were filled with fear. After what he’d just discovered, Jake shared the emotion tenfold.

The pyramid rose out of the floor, hovering like its miniature offspring had before. It righted itself and began to spin, picking up speed with each rotation. Jake shuffled backward. The obelisk spun faster, its visage blurred to a black void in the center of the space. A mini tornado of dust and sand from the floor swirled into a vortex beneath it. The warbling vibration reverberated off the walls and rose even higher in pitch.

There was a crackling buzz, and a laser column of blinding light burst from the top of the spinning mass. It burned through the ceiling and into the sky. Jake raised his hand against the intense brightness. He squeezed his eyes closed. There was a deafening whoop and a rush of wind that popped his ears.

The ground stopped shaking and the room fell silent.

Jake opened his eyes. Dust and debris flittered within a column of sunlight that spilled through a perfectly smooth circle in the ceiling. The obelisk was on its way back to its makers.

Panic took over. Jake spun to leave. He startled when Battista latched onto his ankle. The terrorist leader had been spared the paralysis from the obelisk, but it had nevertheless taken a serious toll. The
sheikh
’s brain hadn’t been able to handle it. The capillaries in his eyes had burst, and blood stained his cheeks. He appeared close to death. His grip weakened.

“I—I saw it,” he muttered. “Everything you said was true. The end. It’s coming.”

A shiver squeezed Jake’s spine.
Much sooner than we thought
, he realized.

“Allah, forgive me,” Battista muttered. His breaths were ragged. He looked up at Jake. Beneath the reddened eyes, the bloody face, and the horrible scar, a sudden awareness washed over the man. Jake pushed past his hatred, and for the first time ever, it felt as if the two men connected as human beings. “I doubt even you can save us,” Battista rasped. His voice grew faint. Jake drew closer. Battista’s damaged brain allowed him one final breath. “Ahmed…please protect him.”

The
sheikh
folded to the floor. The guards stirred.

Four minutes.

Jake sprinted for the rear exit.

The tree line was four hundred yards away. No human had ever broken the three-minute mile, but to get beyond the two-mile blast radius, Jake had to do it in two minutes.

Twice.

Through a jungle.

Jake poured it on. He burst across the field, sucking energy from the mini. The burning pain from the bullet in his shoulder didn’t slow him. He flashed on the six hundred thousand people who drank water from the Silver Lake Reservoir. Lives depended on speed.

He raced through the compound and onto the grass perimeter. He pushed hard past the smoking remains of the V-22 gunship.

Jake was twenty paces from the trees when his heart gave out. He grabbed his chest, lost his footing, and tumbled forward. The momentum from his speed caused him to roll over and over. A bone in his leg snapped; he barely noticed it. The searing pain in his chest filled his senses. He drew in a breath, but oxygen no longer existed. He clung desperately to consciousness, unwilling to accept that his final moments had finally caught up with him. Images flashed across his mind. He thought of his mom, his sister, and the anguish that his passing would cause. Of Marsh, Tony, Lacey, and the others. Of darling Sarafina.

The measure of a man’s life can be weighed by the love of those he leaves behind.

Finally, he thought of Francesca. He embraced the tenderness of her smile, the warmth of her spirit, and the hope of the child she carried.

Jake rolled onto his back. He squinted against the brightness of the sun. His hands clutched at his chest. Failure engulfed him. His heart faltered. It beat once, twice…

Gripping pain.

The sky darkened. He felt the odd sense of spinning within a tornado. Dust swirled around him. 

Then blackness.

Chapter 80

Above the Venezuelan rainforest

F
rancesca couldn’t believe it was happening again.

The aircraft hugged the canopy of the rain forest. Every passing second increased the distance between her and the man she loved.

“There’s no turning back,” she said. She clutched Sarafina to her chest. The child’s small frame shivered.

“No,” Tony agreed. He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. “Jake knew that when he jumped. He did it for you. For all of us.”

She nodded.

“He was the only one who could stop Battista,” Marshall said. He and Lacey sat across from them.

Lacey leaned forward and placed a hand on Francesca’s knee. “Don’t give up hope. Jake has gotten out of tighter fixes than this, remember?”

Francesca caught a fleeting glance between Tony and Marshall. They knew better. So did she. She’d overheard them whispering about the bomb, something they obviously hadn’t mentioned to Lacey yet. Francesca faced the truth: Jake had no chance of leaving the jungle alive. Her hand went to her belly. She leaned her head against Tony’s shoulder and stared at nothing.

**

Tony wrapped his arms around Francesca and Sarafina. Melissa did the same with their own children. She nodded to her husband.

A glance from Becker told Tony the Aussie shared the silent sentiment. Josh’s head rested on Becker’s lap, with Max curled beside him. Across from Tony, Marshall whispered something to Lacey. Her eyes went wide and she sagged into his embrace. Her shoulders shook. Marshall’s eyes glistened.

Tony blew out a long breath. He glanced out the porthole as a twin V-22 pulled up in wing formation beside them. It had taken a while for the plane to catch up. It held the team that had provided the diversion at the opposite end of the camp. The third Osprey—a gunship—had been shot down. Kenny’s experimental drones flew high overhead, cloaking them from Venezuelan radar.

They were headed away from the camp—and his closest friend—at top speed. They needed to be as far away as possible when the nuke went off. He checked his watch.

Thirty seconds.

In a blaze of glory, thought Tony. You wanted to make a difference before you died, Jake?  Well, you sure as hell did that, pal.

Chapter 81

USA Today:
WASHINGTON (AP)
—
The source of the nuclear explosion in the Venezuelan rainforest remains a mystery. The Venezuelan government continues to block efforts by the international community to inspect the site, blaming American clandestine forces for the unprovoked attack. The president of Iran was quick to register his support
.

Redondo Beach, California

Two weeks later

I
t was midafternoon on a Tuesday. There were fewer than a dozen people at Naja’s waterfront bar. A marine layer shrouded the sky.

Tony watched as Lacey weaved through the tables, a pitcher of beer balanced easily on a tray over her shoulder. The server was on a break so she’d handled it herself. It rekindled memories of Sam’s Bar—where it had all begun.

“Just like old times,” Marshall said when she placed the pitcher on the table. Then his face clouded over. “Well…not really.”

Lacey filled his empty mug and motioned questioningly at Tony.

“Bud?” he asked.

“Longboard Lager,” she said. “Jake’s favorite.”

Tony nodded and held out his mug. So did Becker, Cal, and Kenny. She filled them.

Becker tipped his mug at the pilots. “Thanks for being there, mates,” he said.

They clinked glasses. “Anytime,” Cal said.

“We’d never have found you if it weren’t for Max,” Kenny said.

Josh’s guide dog truly lived up to his purpose. The GPS chip embedded under his skin led the rescue team right to their doorstep.

Francesca had both hands wrapped around a wine glass. It was still full. She and Sarafina were leaving tomorrow, returning to her home in Venice. It was safe now that Battista was gone. When they’d first returned from the jungle, the man Jake referred to as Doc had insisted that she undergo a battery of tests. He hadn’t provided much of an explanation as to why. It had something to do with his concern over the drug she’d received in Mexico. Better safe than sorry. In any case, they’d given her—and her unborn child—a clean bill of health.