Killswitch (3 page)

“Maybe that's the way it started.” Chase touched the display and rotated the main building. “But I think, in order to protect itself, it will do whatever it has to do to make sure I'm safe.” He glanced at his mom. Worry lines marked her gentle face. The people here called her Birdie, because she liked to sing. She wasn't singing now.

He looked at the screen. “I couldn't do all this before I got to Atlanta. It started when I unlocked your code, Mel. And it's getting better, faster.”

Mel put her hands on either side of her head. “OK, we'll talk about this later. Right now we need to figure out if there is any way we can get our people out of this place.”

“I can dissolve the walls on this image. Do you want to know what's going on inside?”

Mel's eyes widened. “You can see through walls?”

“Not exactly. I can see through a satellite image of a wall because that's what the satellite can do.”

“And you can do this with
my
code?”

“Same one—safe travel.” Chase pulled the code again and the image changed, slower this time, to reveal the rooms inside the main building.

The five detainees lined up before a man wearing WR police garb. No sound. By the way the man pointed and waved his right hand in his captives' faces, he must be yelling.

Molly stood in the middle, a tall man and young woman on her right, two teen boys on her left. None of them moved. Their mouths remained shut. Their hands were behind their backs.

“Chase, what do you think will happen to them?” his mother asked.

“If anything gets entered into the database at the compound, I can intercept it. For now we can only watch.”

Mel touched the little building in the back and pulled it forward. “What's in here? Why can't we see into it?”

Something inside him told Chase not to look. But he pulled the code and the walls faded.

Groans sounded behind him.

“That's enough, Chase.” Amos touched the top right corner of the display and it went black.

“I had a bad feeling,” Chase said, “but I wasn't expecting this.”

4

Monitors sparked to life as people got to work on different tasks. Some calculated the average time a detainee was held in a center when there were no formal charges. Others mapped various routes to the location holding the five believers. Chase continued to read the communication passing between the WR henchmen who'd intruded on the little town above his head. Nobody said a word about the device in the outer building.

Mel had left the room. Chase tracked her location to a computer in her private quarters. Mom was gone too. A few people moved about on the far side of the complex. Only Amos and Chase were left in the center.

“I don't think they'll be released.” Amos shook his head.” At least not any time soon.”

“I know. A week ago they might have been. But now—”

“Now they're taking these things more seriously.”

Chase put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his forehead. “Now they're looking for me.”

“I didn't say that.” The leader of the underground sat next to Chase. “I didn't even think it. If the authorities thought they'd make contact with you, they'd let them go.”

Chase leaned back in the chair. “It started a few days ago—Christians being detained like this. Even when I was in Atlanta, the cops let a girl go the same day they took her in. But the data shows that hasn't been the norm recently.”

“How many arrests have you tracked since you left Atlanta?”

“Over 200. Just three of those have been released.”

“Heaven help us,” Amos said. “What was so special about the three who were released?”

“I only know what gets put in the reports—names and locations. At least I can tell you where they got arrested. By now, could be they've gone underground.”

Amos flashed a quizzical look. “Yes, hopefully the three are in hiding.” He rose and slipped his hands into his jeans' rear pockets. “But maybe not. Tell me their names.”

Chase pulled the information from the exoself. “All men, all arrested and then released in NYC. Nathan Gaines, Jack Oakley, and Gunner Ramos. Ring any bells?”

“The first two, no. The last one is a supplier.”

Chase pulled the code and found the name. And some history. “He used to be a preacher. Arrested seven times for fraud and money laundering. Lost his tax exemption long before every other church did. Now he's supplying the underground. Making up for past sins?”

“Why would the Feds let him go when they're holding 200 other believers in detention centers?”

“I wish I could tell you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it—about any of this. I'm just an endless supply of information.”

“Are you having second thoughts about joining our cause?”

Chase was supposed to be here—he was programmed to help and protect these people. But how could he get five people out a detention center? What about the other 200 being held by the WR? How many more were there around the world? He didn't even want to know.

He pushed away from the gleaming white desktop.

“What's wrong?” Amos asked. “Chase, you can't give up.”

“Don't you people pray or something when the odds are against you?”

“I'm praying right now.”

Chase looked Amos in the eyes, and something coursed through the exoself. The men who were released all had the same series of numbers after theirs names. 0043250. Chase ran WR detention center manuals. In seconds, he had the answer. “They're not believers.”

“What are you talking about?” Amos asked.

“The three men who got released. Their activity in the underground is a ruse. They work for the government. They got picked up by mistake—they were with a group that got arrested. When the WR checked them out, they let them go.”

“Chase, can you—”

“I'm attaching the release code to the five who were taken in this morning.”

“You think those officials are going to believe that all five are informants? Three of them are just kids.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Chase took his seat at the desktop and pulled the code. The monitor showed the detention center. “There are four officials at the facility. They're all low-level guards. They see a release code come up in their orders, they let the five go. At least, that's what I hope will happen.”

“Give it a try,” Amos said.

Chase pulled a code and the exoself opened the system. Footsteps made him glance sideways. Switchblade. Back from town. Safe and sound.

“Melody says we got five trapped in some stinkin' center. You gonna get them out with your super powers?” Switchblade pulled off his sunglasses.

“I'm working on it. Go get Mel. I need her help.”

“I'll get her,” Switchblade said. “But what are you doing for the five?”

“Attaching a code to their names that will tell the officials they're WR snitches, not believers.”

“That's the most asinine plan I've heard in long time.” The man's broad shoulders lifted as he wheezed out a laugh. “When…If they get out, the Feds are gonna tap them for information. They'll be forced to work against us.”

“Have a little faith, Switch.” Chase smiled.

“Faith—what do you know about
that
? And don't call me Switch, Charlie.” He bulldozed his way between the tightly positioned computer stations.

Mel returned within a minute, Switchblade right behind her, and sat at the station. “Why is it that you can get in on WR transmissions and send out information to the underground, but you can't just send a message to my VPad?”

“The exoself doesn't allow me to communicate directly with individuals. I think it has trust issues. I was permitted to send one message to Robert, but that's all.”

“That's just crazy, boss. Trust issues? The exoself is not a person.” She shook her head. “What do you need me to do?”

“I'm attaching a code to the names of the detainees. I know Molly, but not the rest of them. Tell me their names and I'll pull their histories. Then go to the first
S
—sympathizers. We'll feed in some phony backstories.”

“Haven't the Feds already seen their profiles?” Mel asked. “Why doctor the information now?”

“They're just getting started. Orientation stuff. The Feds haven't reviewed them individually. But we have to hurry.”

“Got it,” Mel said. “We'll start with Molly. Last name Bedél.”

“Native of the area. Raised by Christians.” Chase studied the same profile the officials would soon read. Then he added something. “She got kicked out of the local church before it shut down. Supported government sanctions forbidding distribution of literature. After that, she became an agent of the WR.”

“Oh my,” Amos said. “We're going to lie our way through this?”

“You're not lying, I am,” Chase answered. “And I'm allowed to lie. Right? I'm a sinner.”

“Son, we're all sinners. We just don't feel good about it.”

“I feel good about getting these people free, so I'm going feed to lies to the bad guys,” Chase said. “I'll deal with the consequences later.”

“Second name, Finley Moreau,” Mel said. “She's eighteen. Also a native. Her parents are not believers. Molly's influence brought her in.”

“Perfect,” Chase said. “Molly recruited her to work for the WR.” Chase instructed the exoself to add the false information.

Mel continued the list. “Kirel Previtt. Twenty-nine. Native of the Northeast Territory—Maine. Moved to Herouxville after getting into some trouble with smugglers. Snuck Bibles into illegal shipments to the EU. Fled to avoid prison, but he still lives up top like the rest of the five.”

“OK, there were drugs in the Bibles. He fled to keep his business going. The Feds caught up and offered him a deal—report on the church or go to prison for the drug dealing.”

“You're feeding in the information so fast, Chase,” Amos said. “I'm afraid you're going to make a mistake.”

Others had gathered around, whispering behind Chase. Breathing. Couldn't they back up a little? Despite the pressure, the beat of his lab-grown heart never altered. His blood pressure remained perfect. He could do this.

“Next name,” he said to Mel.

“Do these together. They're brothers. Twins, in fact. Simon and Silas Devereux. Orphans. Their parents were killed when their church fought against its closing. The building was burned to the ground. Twenty-four people died. That was twelve years ago. The boys were four. Now they're sixteen. They live with unchurched grandparents but sneak off to meet with believers.”

“They blame the church for their parents' deaths,” Chase said. “They want revenge.”

“That's not true,” a girl cried from the group at Chase's back.

He peered into the crowd and spotted the girl “Of course, it's not true. I'm making this up as I go along.” She couldn't have been more than sixteen. Poor kid—this was a tough way to live. “I'm trying to get them out. Remember?”

“I'm sorry, you just sounded so sure of yourself.” She almost smiled. “You sure know how to tell a…You're good at making up stuff.”

“I've been pretending for years. I guess it was good for something.”

“What now, boss?” Mel asked.

“Now we watch and wait.”

5

Chase, Amos, Mel, and Switchblade moved to the 3D display. Others followed, eager to see what would happen when the Feds in charge of the round-up noted the orders to release the detainees. The orders Chase had wriggled into the system.

The near compliment of a teenager was the only appreciation shown by the good people of the underground. They'd step off their moral high ground and thank him when the five were free.

“Thanks, exoself, old buddy.” Chase would offer some gratitude if no one else felt inclined.

“You don't even know if you did the job,” Switchblade said. “Don't see nobody opening the front door.”

“Wait.” Mel motioned to the display. “Look at this.”

One of the men in the compound moved away from the five and studied his VPad. He spoke quickly, shook his head, and typed on the small screen.

Chase intercepted. “The code is in place. They've all been identified as informants. Orders are to release them.” He slumped into the nearest chair and huffed. “After they've been debriefed on local activities.”

“I hope they can lie as good as you, Charlie,” Switchblade said. “They talk to them one-on-one, those Feds'll catch on.”

Chase broke into communication between the deputies and the VPad relaying messages to the detention center.

The people surrounding him waited and stared at the holographic image.

One Fed slung his weapon to his back. Another crossed his arms. And then another walked to the door, waved his hand in front of the security device, and swung the door open.

Molly and the rest of the group, their confusion not well hidden, hurried outside to a waiting transport. They climbed in. The gate gave way and the vehicle headed out.

Chase spun on his heels to face to the believers and spread his arms. “And so we've sent another lucky soul—that is—five souls—to begin anew.” He smiled. “You're welcome.”

“What exactly did you just do?” Mel asked. “And don't tell me that you used my programs.”

“I sent word to the man in charge that the absence of the detainees would arouse suspicion if all five missed the meeting occurring in one hour. The upside believers would get spooked and scatter, ruining the operation. The five should be released and returned to town. ASAP.”

Whooping began in the back of crowd. Mom cut through the crowd of worried expressions and kissed Chase on the cheek. The young girl who'd given the back-handed compliment joined in the cheering. Mel hugged him. He pulled her close and smiled.