Wired (26 page)

44

It
was already a quarter to eight before Kira’s forty-foot behemoth pulled off
onto an old dirt road a few hundred yards from the outer perimeter of Putnam’s
property. Desh and Metzger jumped out of the vehicle immediately and fanned out
in opposite directions, each carrying a pair of green binoculars, rubberized
for shock resistance. During the trip each had donned assault vests and were
armed to the teeth. The entire team now wore walkie-talkie earpieces with wires
that disappeared beneath their shirts. Kira, who had taught herself how to
handle a weapon, was armed with a familiar Glock 9-millimeter pistol while
Griffin, given his complete lack of experience, remained unarmed.

Desh
and Metzger had only been in place for a few minutes when a large black
Cadillac pulled onto the road nearest to Putnam’s spread. The car’s windows
weren’t tinted, probably once again to prevent any raised eyebrows in the
neighborhood, but Desh knew a heavily armored car when he saw one and this one
was armored to the gills—more tank than car.

Desh
carefully turned a dial on the binoculars and focused in on the driver.
Bingo
. It was Sam. Samuel Frank Putnam
in the flesh. They had been lucky. If they had arrived even five minutes later
they would have missed his departure.

Within
minutes the car was out of sight, heading in the opposite direction from where
they were stationed, toward Fort Meade. Desh signaled to Metzger and they both
returned to Kira’s motor home.

“Showtime,”
announced Desh to the group. He handed Metzger and Griffin a gellcap from the
stainless steel bottle Kira had given him. “Put these in your pockets,” he
instructed. “Use them only in an absolute emergency.” He held the pill bottle
out to Kira. “Kira?” he said.

She
shook her head. “No thanks,” she said with a sigh. “Just kicked the habit.”

Desh
and Metzger strapped rucksacks on their backs that had been stuffed full of
gear during the drive to Putnam’s farm.

The
colonel had gotten another hour of concentrated sleep while they drove, but was
now fully awake. Desh had insisted that he stay behind to man the RV and to
guard their flank.

Desh
turned to the major, who was waiting for him. “Go with Matt and Kira and take
up a concealed position just outside the chain-link fence,” he instructed. “I’ll
be with you in a minute.”

Metzger
looked puzzled but didn’t question Desh’s order. He took a last glance at Desh
and Connelly and exited the vehicle with the two civilians in tow. They arrived
at the outer perimeter of the property and waited behind a group of trees for
Desh to join them. Five minutes later he arrived.

“What
was that all about?” Kira whispered to Desh.

“I
needed to be sure the colonel was all right,” he whispered back, “and to bury
the pill canister away from the RV. Just in case.”

Desh
pulled a pair of wire cutters from one of many pockets in his vest. After a few
minutes of snipping links he carefully removed a three-foot square section of
the fence, hoping that the transformed Matt Griffin was as good as he thought
and the vibration alarm really had been rendered impotent.

They
each scurried through the hole in the fence and advanced, crouching low to the
ground until they came to another grouping of trees, which the entire team
knelt behind. Desh removed his rucksack and propped it behind one of the trees,
along with his submachine gun. Metzger held his MP-5 at the ready to protect Kira
and Griffin while Desh peered around a tree with binoculars.

He
scanned the area for several minutes. Finally, turning back to the others he
mouthed, “Back in five minutes,” and then, pulling a tranquilizer gun from his
vest, he stole away without a sound. The team had agreed they would only use
lethal force on Putnam’s security people as a last resort. While this was being
decided, Desh had an odd feeling that he was forgetting something important
about the events at the safe house, but try as he might he couldn’t put his
finger on what this might be.

Desh
had waited until the roving security guard had moved well out of sight of his
planned approach to the outer barn. The guard was still dressed as a farmhand,
although his clothing was considerably warmer than it had been in the satellite
photos. He and his colleague were probably quite competent, but they were
overmatched by someone with Desh’s training and field experience, and lulled
into a false sense of security by their faith in the perimeter alarms.

Desh
crept to the side of the outermost barn and peered inside. The second guard was
seated with his back to him, at a large bank of twelve monitors, twenty yards
away. Desh glided forward noiselessly with his gun extended, rapidly closing
the distance between them. He was able to get to within five feet of the man
before he began to spin around, startled. Desh shot him in the thigh and he
slumped in his chair, unconscious.

Desh
studied the monitors to confirm the other security guard hadn’t moved from his
position near the large horse pen, and plotted his approach. He exited the barn
and circled around the property so he could come up behind the second guard. Once
he had a bead on the man, he stalked him for several minutes, gradually working
his way closer. He silently covered the last few feet and fired. This time the
guard hadn’t had any warning at all and melted to the ground as the
tranquilizer took immediate effect.

Desh
pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the area. Everything looked to be in
order. He double-timed it to where Metzger could see him and signaled for the
rest of the group to join him. Minutes later they were at the back of the
house. Desh chose a suitable window and shattered it with the back of his
submachine gun, using the weapon to quickly clear away the jagged glass
remaining around the perimeter of the sill. All four intruders climbed through
the window one at a time until they were all safely inside the residence.

45

Putnam’s
house was large, about five thousand square feet. The front door opened into a
living room on the left and a glass enclosed study on the right. The kitchen
was spacious, with large stainless steel appliances, blue granite countertops,
and a large cooking island in its center. The interior of the house was in
direct contrast to its simple, rustic exterior, and managed to clash
atrociously even with itself. While all of the furniture was a minimalist,
ultra-modern steel, glass, and silver, the rest of the interior was reminiscent
of a European palace, with crystal chandeliers and baroque oil paintings
displayed in elaborate, carved wooden frames.

It
was 8:30 and they still hadn’t heard the three telltale tones that would tell
them that Putnam had reset the device that threatened Kira Miller, providing a
twelve-hour stay of execution. No one had brought it up, but it was weighing on
all of their minds.

Griffin
sat at the computer in Putnam’s study and called up several screens. The rest
of the team stood behind him, eagerly looking over his shoulder. “This might
take a while,” he said after a few minutes. “I have to break through security
and then try to find a needle in a haystack. That’s presupposing Putnam left
any evidence on this computer in the first place.” He sighed. “And I’ll be
trying this the old fashioned way. As much as I’d like to become a hotrodding
God of a hacker again, I’m not sure I’m up to it yet. It takes a lot out of
you.”

“No
question about it,” said Desh.

“If
I haven’t made solid progress by one or two this afternoon,” said Griffin
earnestly, “I’ll take another gellcap and go to town.”

Desh
nodded but wasn’t certain he liked the idea. The antisocial effect was
cumulative and Griffin hadn’t handled his altered state well the first time.

Griffin
bent to work on the keyboard while the three armed members of the team
conducted a systematic search of Putnam’s home, looking for any clues or
information that might prove useful. After forty minutes of searching, Desh
activated the small microphone dangling from a cord running down his neck and
checked in with Connelly in the RV. The colonel reported that all was well, and
that he had not observed any suspicious activity in the vicinity.

Desh
was searching through an upstairs room when Metzger’s voice came through his
earpiece. “David, meet me in the basement. Something I want to show you.”

“Roger
that,” he said.

Desh
moved briskly and arrived at the basement just ahead of Kira, who Metzger had
also summoned. The room was nicely finished, including the ceiling and walls,
and was carpeted. Metzger was standing next to a door in the far corner of the
basement. He motioned for Desh and Kira to join him as he opened the door and
stepped through.

They
entered a small, unfinished section of the basement with its original concrete
floor and walls. There was a sump hole in one corner and a water heater in
another.

A
large, square piece of plywood was standing up against the wall, about eight
feet on a side. Metzger went to an edge and pushed. The plywood slid fairly
readily across the smooth floor.

Desh’s
eyes widened as a square opening in the concrete wall was revealed, hidden
behind the plywood. It was about six feet on a side and formed the entrance to
a tunnel leading away from the house.

Metzger
pulled a small flashlight from his vest and pointed it down the passageway. The
tunnel continued for about thirty yards and then curved out of sight.

“Interesting,”
said Desh. “Were you searching specifically for an escape hatch?” he asked the
major.

Metzger
nodded. “Blackmail too many powerful men and you create a few enemies. Even if
Putnam convinced them the dirt he had collected would be released automatically
if he was killed, he would still want to have a means to escape a frontal
assault—just in case.”

“Not
all that well hidden,” noted Kira.

“Doesn’t
need to be on this side,” said Metzger. “Putnam would count on his security
monitors giving him a head start. I’m sure the tunnel exit is well concealed. Once
Putnam emerges, he can probably collapse the tunnel behind him to prevent
anyone from following.”

“Let’s
get out of here,” said Desh. “Even though Putnam is convinced of the strength
of his signal and receiver, I want Kira aboveground,” he said protectively. “Why
take any chances we don’t have to? We can search this tunnel later.” He paused.
“Nice work, Major.”

Desh
caught Kira glancing nervously at her watch as they climbed the stairs. “I’m
guessing you would have told me if you had heard three high-pitched beeps
recently,” he said softly.

Kira
sighed. “He’ll reset it,” she said, although with less confidence than before.

When
the three of them emerged from the basement, Griffin saw them through the glass
wall of the study and motioned them over.

“I
haven’t found anything linking Putnam to terror or the sterilization virus,” he
said when they had joined him, “but I did find files on a number of powerful
people in politics and the military.”

“Compromising
ones?” guessed Kira.

“Very,”
he replied. “Hoover would be proud. Putnam has a number of taped phone calls
implicating the callers for taking bribes, cheating on spouses, engaging in
criminal activity—the works.” He paused and shook his head. “He also has a lot
of these.” A video of a chubby, balding older man having sex with a buxom young
beauty appeared on the screen. None of them recognized the man. “According to
the file,” explained Griffin, “Baldy is the CEO of a major corporation. Putnam
has videos of a number of powerful men engaged in either homosexual activity or
having sex with women who aren’t their wives. But I’ll spare you any more
samples,” he said.

“Thank
you,” said Desh in sincere appreciation.

“Not
exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be shown to your wife or children,”
noted Metzger unnecessarily.

“Or
your constituency,” added Desh.

A
digital clock appeared at the bottom of Putnam’s computer monitor. It read 9:45.
Desh eyed Kira worriedly. She was trying to keep a stiff upper lip but he could
read the tension in her face.

There
was a knock at the front door.

Desh
grabbed Kira’s arm and rushed from the room, taking up a position on the wall
flanking the front door. Metzger hurried Griffin with him into position on the
other side. Both men trained their weapons at the door.

There
was another knock and then the rattle of keys. Finally, the door swung slowly
open.

“Hello
in there,” yelled S. Frank Putnam from the entrance. “I’m alone and unarmed. I’m
coming in,” he announced.

Putnam
calmly entered and closed the door behind him. Once the door had closed, Desh
rushed to the window and peered out. He raised his binoculars and scanned the
vicinity, but didn’t see any evidence of anyone else approaching.

“Congratulations
on escaping from the safe house and discovering my identity,” said Putnam
sincerely. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me how you did it,” he added.

“What
are you doing here?” growled Kira disdainfully.

“Making
sure you don’t violate my property any further, my dear. My men will be
arriving here in about ten minutes,” he said, “but I thought I’d say hello and
give you a chance to surrender first.”

“Why?”
asked Desh suspiciously.

“I
don’t want to risk any injury to Dr. Miller, of course.”

“Other
than your implanted bomb that’s set to go off in twelve minutes, you mean,”
said Desh.

“Twelve
minutes is plenty of time for me to reset it; which I fully intend to do. I
just wanted to tell you personally that you’ll soon be greatly outnumbered, and
urge you to surrender when my men arrive.”

Desh
spoke into the microphone of his walkie-talkie. “Colonel, possible incoming
hostiles converging on our position. Do you have a visual?”

There
was no answer.

“Colonel,
come in.” He paused and lifted the tiny microphone to his mouth. “Come in,” he
said anxiously. “Say again, possible incoming hostiles.”

“What’s
the matter, Desh?” taunted Putnam. “No answer?”

“What
did you do!” demanded Kira in alarm.

“You
think my men wouldn’t spot a fucking RV?” said Putnam contemptuously. “That
thing’s a monstrosity.”

“What
did you do!” persisted Kira.

“As
it turns out, absolutely nothing, my dear. Your friend the colonel did it to
himself.”

“Did
what to himself?” snapped Desh.

“When
my people boarded the RV, your colonel friend was hiding in the bedroom. Thought
he’d be cute and wear electronic earplugs and goggles and toss out a stun
grenade. He figured he would recover his sight and hearing before we did.” Putnam
shook his head in amusement. “He didn’t count on the vibration knocking him off
his feet. His head slammed into the corner of an end table. Killed him
instantly.” He paused, milking the moment. “It wasn’t pretty.”

The
four intruders traded horrified glances. Even Kira and Griffin, who hadn’t
known the colonel very well, looked ill at the loss of such a good man.

Putnam
made a show of looking at his watch. “You have five minutes to come out with
your hands raised,” he said. “After that my men will come in after you.” The
corners of his mouth turned up in a cruel smile. “But I really have to go now,
my dear. If I’m late resetting that little device in your head, I might end up
with brain splatter on my drapes.” He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t have that,
can we?”

Kira
raised her gun and pointed it at Putnam. “Don’t take another step!” she
growled.

“Or
what?” he said scornfully. “You’re going to
shoot
me?” He shook his head and laughed. “You’re going to give yourself five minutes
to live? You’re going to kill the only chance you have to keep the lid on Pandora's
box?
I don't think so
.”

A
bullet exploded from Kira’s gun and tore through Putnam’s chest, slamming him
back against the door. “Think again,” she whispered, her face a mask of rage. She
walked toward him and emptied the entire magazine into his body.

“Kira,
what are you doing!” screamed Desh.

“He
had to die,” she spat hatefully.

Kira
Miller turned away from the body and gathered herself. “David, take Putnam’s
escape tunnel and get out of here. Using my treatment the three of you can stop
Putnam’s plot. I
know
you can. But with the leverage he had over me, I
was hurting our chances. Beat this bastard and then carry out your vision. You’re
a good man. I have confidence in you.”

Desh
said nothing, but reached out to hold her. She melted into his arms and several
tears escaped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

“David,”
she whispered, still in his arms, “I’m going to give you the GPS coordinates to
my flash drive. If for some reason you aren’t able to stop the virus, I’m
counting on you to give the secret of longevity to the world.”

Kira
Miller wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and focused with all of
her heart on unlocking her memory. Not because some external force was
demanding it, but because she
wanted
to give it freely. To this man. A
man she had come to trust and admire. Her instincts in choosing David Desh had
been perfect. Had things been otherwise, who knew where their relationship
might have led.

She
gasped. Like a dam bursting, her memory came flooding back into her mind.

Kira
cupped her hands around Desh’s ear and whispered the coordinates. She repeated
the coordinates several times until Desh was able to whisper them back to her. Even
if he forgot them, she knew, his enhanced mind would remember them with perfect
clarity, along with the exact feel of her breath in his ear and her exact
pronunciation of every number.

Now
she knew that her life extension discovery would live on, even if she didn’t. And
Desh would only reveal it if Putnam’s plan couldn’t be stopped. She was certain
of it.

Kira
pushed Desh away as several more tears began to slide down her face. “You need
to keep your distance,” she said.

It
was 9:59 and the second hand on Desh’s watch was sweeping around the dial at a
sickening pace. “Kira, you’re the most extraordinary woman I have ever known,”
said Desh with absolute sincerity.

She
forced a brave smile for the benefit of Desh and the two other members of the
team. “Thanks. I just hope I was wrong about that afterlife thing,” she said.

And
with that, Kira Miller closed her eyes and awaited oblivion.