Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (62 page)

A
lexa is waiting in the dark when the call comes.

Her jax screams at her. The holo face of Ryzaard jumps above its elegant cylindrical body.

“Bring the girl up to my office,” Ryzaard says. “It’s time to kill her.”

“Got it.”

Tapping her jax, the lights come on in Alexa’s room. A half empty blue vial of
phette
lies on the table by her head. Grabbing it, she brings it up to her lips and gulps the rest and then stands looking at herself in a mirror, waiting for the hit to register.

When it comes, it’s like jumping out of the bushes and grabbing onto the outside of a car racing on the Greek autobahn.

Adrenaline rush. Clarity. A slight buzzing sensation on her skin.

But it won’t last forever. Better get going.

The backpack is waiting by the door, everything ready according to plan. Walking by, she reaches down and hefts a strap, then hoists it onto one shoulder and passes through the door out into the dark hall, barely visible in her glove leather jeans and top.

At the elevator, she hesitates as her pulse rises and the numbers above the closed door count down to 120. For some reason, she can’t shake the feeling that Ryzaard is watching.

The elevator hums to a stop.

In front of her, a single stainless steel door slides from right to left, and she enters, letting the backpack fall hard to the floor. Punching in the numbers, she leans back against the mirror wall.

What am I doing?

The door opens on 115. The smell of French fries and take-out Chinese wafts in from the hall. She pushes the
hold
button and walks out and to the right, leaving the backpack in the open elevator.

Two security guards in black battle armor with helmets and visors wave as she walks by. Turning another corner, she moves to the end of the wide hall past more guards stationed every five meters. She stops at the end and looks up into the mirror visor of the soldiers.

“I’m here to pick up a package. Open the door.”

The visor slowly drops and nods.

Alexa sees the index finger flex and curl itself over the trigger of the pulse cannon hanging from a massive shoulder.

The door on the left pops open, squeaking on metal hinges.

“Will you need an escort, Ms. Alexa?”

“Not tonight.” She pulls a pencil-thin steel cartridge from a slit in her leather jeans. “Got this.”

The soldier nods again.

She walks into the dark room. A neon-white light comes on. The stainless steel walls of the cell turn into mirrors.

Why so many mirrors?

Jessica lies against the far wall, left ear flush with the floor, spine painfully curved to the right, arms splayed out behind her. Bruises dot her bare arms. Wrists and ankles are still covered in rubber-poxy and swollen from the chemicals. Her breath comes in short, wheezing bursts, like too much air trying to move through too small a passage.

“Time to go, girl.” Alexa kneels and presses the tip of the stainless steel cylinder against Jessica’s temple.

Her body jerks and twists, and then spreads out across the floor, the spine straightening out.

Alexa rolls Jessica over onto her back and waits for the adrenaline to take hold. When it does, Jessica’s eyes shoot open, dilated pupils staring up at Alexa.

“You’re coming with me. Get on your feet and do as I say.”

Under the control of the drug, Jessica’s upper body rises into an upright position. She touches her palms to the floor, and stands up, keeping her eyes fixed on Alexa.

“Walk behind me,” Alexa says. “Not a word.” She passes out the door with Jessica in tow. “Thanks, boys.” The odor of barbequed pork and fries mixed with the unearthly stench of badly digested meat is even stronger now.

A soldier moves forward, hand out. “Sure you don’t need some help?”

“I’ll manage just fine.” Alexa walks past the guards to the elevator and gives Jessica a hard shove in. “And I’ll talk with the old man about getting you guys some real food. Smells like a war zone up here.”

Someone yells back. “Just the way we like it.”

Alexa punches in floor 175. Casually pointing her jax at the ceiling, she brushes its side. A hum rises from its vibrating surface, disrupting the surveillance camera she knows is monitoring her movement.

A voice drops from hidden speakers. “Is there a problem, Ms. Alexa?”

“No problem here. What’s going on?”

“Video transmission’s been interrupted.”

“Must be on your end.” Alexa crouches next to her backpack and opens an outer pocket. “Make sure you have it checked out. Ryzaard runs a tight ship.”

“Will do.”

Alexa pulls out a small glass sphere and puts it on the floor. Then she stands next to Jessica. There’s a burst of light as the sphere takes a 3-D photo of them and launches its holo algorithm.

A full color duplicate image of each of them materializes on the opposite side of the elevator. When the doors open, the holo images walk out and down the hall toward Ryzaard’s office, the sphere rolling along the floor beneath them.

Forty-five seconds.

She punches the numbers for the roof and hands the backpack to Jessica. “Carry this. Stay close.” Reaching into the two side pockets of the pack, she pulls out identical silver pistols, one in each hand, and thrusts them into the waist of her jeans just below the small of her back.

When the elevators open, the roof is lit up by flood lights posted on each corner. In the middle, a black transport rests on the tarmac, shaped like a hawk, the MX Global logo painted just above the wing. Two guards stand next to the fuselage.

Alexa walks briskly out onto the tarmac, Jessica close behind.

The two guards come to attention. “Ms. Alexa,” one says. “We weren’t expecting—”

Alexa reaches both hands behind her back, whips out the pistols and shoots each guard in the center of the chest. Acid smoke pours out of the holes in their armor as they fall to the ground. The pistols go back into her waistband, and her fingers pull the jax from a front slit in her pants. With a brush of her finger, engines start howling. The side hatch on the transport pops open.

“Get in and stay down.” Alexa pushes Jessica through the opening and climbs in behind her. The hatch immediately snaps shut.

Running to the front of the transport, Alexa drops her jax into a slot on the console. “Upload program 507-38. Execute.”

The console lights up. The ship leaps into the air above the Manhattan skyline as soon as she drops into the pilot’s chair.

Her eyes find the timer on the console.

I was wrong. It only took forty-three.

S
uppress the anger. Do not let it show.

Before entering the conference room, Ryzaard pauses to cleanse himself of stress and rage.

He walks directly to his seat. The chair to his right, Alexa’s chair, is empty. All around the table, half-open eyes stare down.

No one speaks or looks up to acknowledge Ryzaard.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

“Did you trace her flight path?” Ryzaard shoots a glance at Jerek.

Jerek shakes his head. “Impossible. She took your personal transport. It’s equipped with state-of-the-art trace disrupters lifted from the U.S. military’s techlab. Totally invisible to our instruments and everyone else’s.”

“Any idea where she’s going?”

Diego picks up his slate. “Extrapolating from the trajectory during the first five minutes of flight before the disrupters kicked in, I’d say she’s heading north into Canadian airspace, but that could be a ruse to throw us off.”

Jing-wei shakes her head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Putting his elbows on the table, Ryzaard leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Please enlighten us.”

“She’s taken the girl to see her beloved.”

“
Her beloved
?” Ryzaard shakes his head like he’s trying to understand a new foreign language.

Now the center of attention, Jing-wei’s voice drops. “She’s switching sides. Matt’s the only one who can, theoretically, stop us and our operation. Alexa made a rational calculation to switch from one power structure to another, from one Stone Holder to another. She thinks Matt will win.”

Elsa nods. “And in order to make the switch and join the opposition, she needs to buy their trust by bringing something, or someone, of great value to them. So she shows up with the girl. Instant credibility.”

Ryzaard puts his feet on the table. “Perhaps. But why change sides in the first place? It’s clear we have overwhelming force on our side. What could the boy possibly offer Alexa?”

After a long silence, Kalani coughs. “A clear conscience?”

“What do you mean?” Ryzaard shoots back.

“Well, face the facts.” Kalani pulls his feet off the table. Dark circles haunt his eyes. His jaw is unusually gaunt and angular. The bony corners of his shoulders stick out under a thin T-shirt. White knuckles cling to a wooden spear. “We tried to design a campaign that would result in minimal loss of life and still pack a punch. You told us it wasn’t good enough. You wanted more blood. So we’ve given it to you.” He scans the table. “You’re about to kill twenty million people. That doesn’t exactly put you next in line to become the Pope.”

Jaws drop open.

Kalani puts up his hands as if to symbolically ward off an attack from Ryzaard. “I understand you have your reasons. A new world, paradise, freedom. We’ll all end up with unlimited riches and power. But maybe that isn’t enough for Alexa. Maybe she just couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe she got scared. Or maybe she’s just sick of it all.”

No one rebuts Kalani’s remarks.

“Would any of you like to join her?” Ryzaard pulls a black pack of cigarettes out of his tweed jacket.

Jing-wei’s eyes drop down. “You’ve made it clear that quitting the project is not a viable option for any of us.”

“It never was.” Ryzaard lights a black Djarum and inhales. “Betrayal in any form will not be tolerated. I suggest that each of you look upon her as an object lesson. Learn from her mistakes. Don’t repeat them.” He turns to Diego on his left. “What about damage assessment? Did she take any secure data files with her?”

“None that I’ve been able to detect.” Diego’s fingers move across the bluescreen in front of him. “I’ve checked all the access histories. It looks clean.”

Jing-wei puts her slate on the table. “Obviously, the biggest risk is that Alexa knows about the planned nuclear detonations. She might try to do something about it.”

“What can she possibly do?” Ryzaard says.

“Try to contact the governments involved?” Diego says.

Ryzaard blows smoke across the table. “They’ll think she’s stark raving mad.”

“Post it on the Mesh?” Elsa says.

Jerek shakes his head. “If she tries, we’ll get a lock on her physical location. I don’t think she’ll risk that. She’s going to have to go off-grid. And who better to help her than the kid who’s lived half his life off-grid.” He brings a finger and thumb up to his chin. “Besides, no one’s going to believe an anonymous post about Armageddon.”

“Exactly. There’s nothing she can do. All according to plan.” Ryzaard points at Kalani. “In the meantime, don’t forget to change all the access codes and reconfigure our security and encryption systems. We don’t want her trying to hack in.”

“Already on my list,” Kalani says.

“Last, but not least.” Ryzaard stands and drops his cigarette on the floor, stamping it out. “I’ve given orders to our military wing. They’re to hunt down and destroy my transport and kill Alexa and anyone with her at the earliest opportunity. I’ve also given them full access to her dossier, including all history and background checks. They’re compiling a list of anyone with connections to her, family, friends, past associates. They’ll all be dead within 48 hours.”

“Is that really necessary?” Jing-wei stares ahead, past Ryzaard.

“There’s an old Chinese proverb that answers your question.” Ryzaard moves to the door. “Can you guess?”

“I have an idea.” Jing-wei pushes away from the table and slumps in her chair. “
Kill the chickens to scare the monkeys.
”

Ryzaard moves through the door. “I suggest all of you live by it.”