Wired (29 page)

“Believe
me,” said Kira Miller, scowling, “your disappointment
pales
in comparison to mine.”

“But
to answer your question, Desh,” said Alan, as if his sister had not spoken, “I
was the one who sent Putnam into his house to talk with you in the first place.
I had a sniper targeting him while the rest of my men came up through his
tunnel. If Kira had failed to shoot him, my sniper would have done so the
moment he opened the door.” He paused. “You wouldn’t know who had killed him or
why, but that wouldn’t matter. With the only man capable of resetting the
supposed explosive charge in Kira’s skull dead, she would once again tell you
her secret, believing she had but minutes to live and having no guarantee that
the sterilization plot could be stopped.”

Desh
nodded miserably. “It appears you thought of everything,” he said, looking
defeated for the first time.

“You’re
damn straight,” said Alan smugly.

49

The
helicopter had landed almost five minutes before but Alan Miller was clearly enjoying
himself too much to put a temporary halt to the proceedings, and the pilots
knew better than to interrupt their boss. Finally, Alan decided a change in
venue was in order.

Six
soldiers, once again dressed in commando gear, had surrounded the helicopter
and were waiting patiently for Alan Miller to open the helicopter door. “Bring
them inside,” he barked. He then nodded toward Desh at the back of the chopper.
“And make sure this one is completely immobilized on the gurney. He’s
ex-Special Forces.”

Gurney?
Desh didn’t like the sound of that. The blood had stopped dripping from his
neck, but he was battered and bruised from the melee on the helicopter. It was
getting difficult to remember when he had last showered or a time when he
wasn’t bound. Perhaps in years past a captor would have felt secure simply
holding a gun on him without feeling the need to immobilize him as well, but
this was no longer the case. The almost superhuman portrayal of Special Forces
soldiers by the media and in fiction had unfortunately ensured that he was
rarely underestimated.

Three
soldiers entered the chopper and removed all restraints but the plasticuffs
binding the prisoners’ wrists behind their backs. They were marched off the
helicopter. A mansion that would not have been out of place in ancient Greece
loomed in front of them. Massive white pillars flanked its entrance, and it was
centered on acres and acres of meticulously manicured grounds, complete with
ponds, gardens and winding streams. Two large, multi-tiered marble fountains
stood at its entrance, with life-sized statues of Greek Gods drinking nectar
from massive chalices. No other houses were visible for as far as the eye could
see in any direction.

They
were ushered through the oversized front door and into a vaulted room with
twice as much floor space as Kira’s entire RV. The floor was white marble, and
a ninety-five-inch plasma television hung on the wall like a massive work of
modern art, with ten movie-theater style seats facing it. The mansion’s
interior contained numerous statues and paintings, all depicting Greek Gods, as
if Alan Miller considered himself a modern Zeus and had built himself an
Olympus in which to reside.

Desh
was shoved roughly on his back onto the wheeled, stainless steel gurney of
which Alan had spoken, his hands still cuffed behind him. Two of the
mercenaries strapped him down and checked to be sure he couldn’t escape. Kira’s
hands were also cuffed behind her and were now cuffed to the gleaming steel
gurney as well.

Alan
Miller entered the room briskly and stood beside the gurney, so both prisoners
could see him well. “This is my media room,” he announced proudly. “What do you
think?”

Desh
looked up at him icily. “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you die,” he said
intently.

“Very
good,” said Alan approvingly. “What bravado. No wonder my sister likes you so
much. I’m afraid you’re at a bit of a disadvantage, though. While I don’t have
fancy electronic security systems, I do have twelve war-hardened mercenaries
who patrol the grounds. I pay them extremely well.” He shook his head,
unimpressed. “Forgive me for not feeling threatened.”

“So
what now?” said Desh.

“A
surgeon of my acquaintance is on his way. He’ll be here in about ten minutes. He’ll
remove your implants and then, at long last, I’ll take my first step toward
immortality.”

“A
surgeon? Isn’t that a little delicate for a butcher like you,” said Desh. “Why
not just kill me?”

“Fair
question,” he said. He held his hands out, palms up, and sighed. “Technology
these days. It’s remarkably reliable on the whole, but you just never know. If
for some reason the recorder failed to activate or to capture the GPS coordinates
properly, I’m going to need you alive so you can tell me the coordinates
yourself.”

Desh
eyed Alan Miller with contempt. “You’d better hope your recorder worked then,
because you’ll never get the coordinates from me. With truth drugs or
otherwise.”

Alan
laughed. “Part of me almost hopes it didn’t work, just so we can find out.”

“And
if it did?” said Desh.

“I
may keep you alive as leverage. I still need my sister to continue her
longevity work. She is still the best biologist of her generation.”

There
was a long silence during which Alan Miller appeared to be lost in thought. “Now
that I’ve answered all your questions,” he said finally. “I have one of my
own.” He raised his eyebrows. “How did you escape from the safe house?”

Desh
smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” he said.

“Oh,
you’ll tell me all right. What you—”

Outside,
the Sikorsky helicopter erupted into flames.

The
explosion rocked the mansion as if an earthquake had struck.

Alan
Miller rushed to a window.
All hell was
breaking loose
. The military helicopter that had fired a missile into the
Sikorsky was now strafing the grounds with its machine guns. At least two of
Alan’s mercenaries were dead and several others had taken positions in
preparation for a firefight, or were racing to take cover. Billowing smoke from
the flaming helicopter created a surreal haze over the entire scene, and heavy
gunfire could be heard from multiple quarters.

Alan
could tell his sister had been as stunned as he was. But he had caught a
certain gleam in David Desh’s eye as he ran to the window. Desh had not been
surprised.

Alan
raced over to the gurney and looked down at Desh. “What’s going on?” he
demanded, speaking loudly to be heard over the raging battle taking place
outside, the room’s marble floor doing nothing to dampen the noise.

“I
don’t have any idea,” said Desh, raising his voice to a near shout as well.

Alan
grabbed Desh’s head and slammed it into the gurney. “
I repeat
,” he
screamed menacingly, “
what is going on?
”

Desh’s
face remained stoically impassive, despite the blow to his head, and it was
clear he would not be responding.

“Okay,
lover boy,” he spat at Desh. “Let’s see how brave you are when it comes to my
sister.”

Alan
walked rapidly to a desk and returned with a sharply pointed silver letter-opener.
Without warning he plunged it savagely into his sister’s arm.

Kira
issued a startled shriek as blood began to soak her sweatshirt.

Alan
wrapped his left forearm tightly around his sister’s neck from behind and
extended his right arm in front of her, the now bloody letter-opener pointed at
her face. “Tell me exactly what’s going on,” he barked at Desh. “The first time
I even suspect you’re lying to me, she loses an eye.”

Desh
looked into Alan’s eyes and had no doubt he would do it. He would
enjoy
doing it. “I set you up,” said Desh quickly.

“Impossible,”
said Alan, holding the point of the letter-opener a few inches from his
sister’s left eye and slowly moving it forward.

“I
used one of Kira’s pills,” said Desh hurriedly, desperate to convince Alan he
was telling the truth. “That’s how we escaped from Putnam’s safe house.”

Alan’s
eyes narrowed. He lowered the letter opener as he considered this new
information worriedly. Without saying anything more, he reached into his
pocket, pulled out a gellcap, and hurriedly swallowed it.

“You
know the awesome ability of an enhanced mind to see patterns and make
connections,” continued Desh. “And I’m not your sister, whose every memory is
of the saintly Alan Miller. Kira was at the epicenter of the deaths of her parents
and uncle and teachers—
but so was her brother.
And there was nothing
left of your body but ashes. Very convenient. I realized this exact endgame was
a likely possibility immediately. The
most
likely possibility. My
surprised reactions since you arrived at Putnam’s have been nothing but an
act.”

Kira
Miller couldn’t hide her shock.

“You’re
lying,” snapped Alan. “I can tell from Kira’s reaction.”

“She
didn’t know.”

“You
suspected all of this and you didn’t tell her?” said Alan in disbelief.

“There
was a chance I was wrong,” replied Desh. “That Putnam was behind everything and
the situation was exactly as it had been portrayed. I didn’t want to give Kira
false hopes that the bomb implant was a fake, or tarnish her memory of you if I
was wrong.” Desh paused. “There was also one other consideration,” he said,
trying to stall by divulging information as piecemeal as he thought he could
get away with.

“What?”
snapped Alan impatiently.

Desh
paused for another second before answering. “I wanted her reactions to be
real,” he said. “The same with Griffin and Metzger. When the explosive device
failed to go off, when you arrived, I couldn’t count on their acting abilities.
I didn’t want to tip you off that I was on to you.”

Alan
shook his head vigorously. “Bullshit!” he snapped. “If you suspected, you
wouldn’t have let Kira give you the GPS coordinates, and you wouldn’t have let
me capture you.”

“Think
again,
psycho
,” said Desh in
contempt. “I didn’t know how to find you. I needed you to reveal yourself. And
I wanted you to brag about your achievements so I could be sure I hadn’t missed
anything.” Desh raised his eyebrows. “Not to mention that I detected your
implanted cochlear recorders while I was enhanced and used my immune system to
deactivate them.” He smiled broadly. “
Who’s feeling manipulated now,
asshole!
” he spat hatefully.

Gunfire
continued to rage unabated on the lush, well-tended acreage surrounding the
mansion, now transformed into a killing field, violated by explosions and
countless bullets, and fertilized with copious amounts of blood.

Alan
glared at Desh. “Make no mistake,” he barked. “Whatever is happening outside,
my men will handle it. And in just a few minutes I’ll be transformed and able
to slip out of any noose.”

“Don’t
count on it,” said Desh.

“Who
are
they?” demanded Alan. “Even if
you suspected me, you couldn’t have set me up. You couldn’t possibly know where
I live. And no one followed us here. I’m sure of it.”

“Wrong
again,
asshole
,” hissed Desh. “Before we broke into Putnam’s house, I
had a private conversation with my friend the colonel. I knew you would spot
the RV. How could you not? I told him to take one of Kira’s pills at the first
hint of trouble. I outlined how it would be possible to fake his own death.” Desh
winked. “I’m sure you know that when you’re enhanced you can control your heart
rate. Smear blood on your head, pretend to be dead, and don’t have a pulse when
someone is checking for it. Presto, you’re declared dead.” Desh raised his
eyebrows. “But to give credit where it’s due,” he continued. “I did get the
idea of faking Connelly’s death from you, Alan.” He smiled mockingly. “Thanks.”

The
veins in Alan Miller’s neck were standing out as his fury mounted. Desh knew
his best bet was to keep him here until his team arrived, hoping against hope
this would happen soon, before Kira’s treatment transformed her brother.

“Even
though the colonel is injured,” continued Desh, “with his mind enhanced, it
must have been easy for him to best your men at Putnam’s farm and free Metzger
and Griffin. I told him to give a pill to the major and come after me.” Desh
raised his eyebrows. “You see, I hid a homing device on myself that the colonel
could use to track me. And your men were good enough to arrive at Putnam’s in
military choppers so the major could borrow one. The colonel’s mind is now back
to normal, no doubt. But just one Ross Metzger, enhanced, along with a military
helicopter, is more than a match for your mercenaries.”

Instead
of responding, Alan Miller appeared to be listening for gunfire. But after a
deafening barrage that had seemed to go on forever, everything was now utterly
silent. This seemed to totally unnerve him, and he shoved the gurney near the
wall, dragging his sister along with it. He pulled out a gun and crouched
behind his two prisoners, his back to the wall, using their bodies as shields.

“What’s
the matter?” taunted Desh. “Not so sure of your mercenary force anymore?”

Before
Desh completed his sentence, Connelly and Metzger entered the room. Metzger
moved with the elegance of a ballet dancer and took in the scene with
superhuman acuity.

Alan
peered around his sister. “Take one step closer and I’ll kill them both,” he
threatened.

Metzger
looked bored. “Thanks. It will spare me the trouble,” he said.

Alan’s
eyes narrowed and it was clear the wheels were turning in his head. “Look,
Major,” he said amicably, “we can team up, you and I. Surely in the state
you’re in now you can see the logic of this. Why hitch yourself to my sister’s
wagon? I already have more power and money than
God
. Once we begin to leverage the secret of extended life, you and
I will be the most powerful people on the planet.”

“Ross,
please
,” pleaded Kira Miller. “Kill him! Don’t worry about hitting me. He
took a gellcap and he’ll be enhanced any second. This is your chance!” she
insisted emphatically. “Remember what Matt said: the vast majority of your life
will be lived as you
were
,
unenhanced
. And that Ross Metzger couldn’t live with himself if he
teamed up with this psychopath.”

“
Shut
the fuck up, you bitch!
” thundered Metzger.

Kira
flinched and drew back from the fury of his words.

Metzger
pulled the trigger and put a bullet cleanly between Alan Miller’s eyes. He
slammed back against the wall and then fell forward, face first.