Pieces of the Puzzle (18 page)

Janet showed Scott a key, her fingers turning blue as she clutched it. Scott snatched the key from her hand, and leveled the
gun at the door and waited, his thoughts swimming. When Helen appeared in the doorway, he nearly shouted for joy.

“You were right,” Helen told him, grinning.

He didn’t tell her that he hadn’t been sure until a moment ago or that the relief he felt at seeing her face was akin to being
in heaven. Instead, he walked to her and flung his arms around her.

Janet began sobbing. “You can’t leave me. You can’t let him find me. I can still be of use to you.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you behind as long as you tell me the truth, you have my word.”

He turned back to Helen. “Anyone see you in the hallway?”

Helen shook her head.

“Close the door and lock it,” he told her as he ran his fingers across the key. He crossed to the balcony, his eyes on the
waves breaking on the beach. He needed some time to figure out his next few steps. Everything depended on his staying a step
ahead of Glen.

Ken suggested that Scott sit. He did. Ken rolled his eyes and grinned, like a boy waiting for a toy train set. He said to
Scott, “Where is it?”

Scott set the cigar box–sized case onto the table. “Are you as good with hardware as you are with files?”

Ken’s grin broadened. “Even better.”

“Can you tell me what’s so special about this that it’s worth killing for?”

Ken turned the case over. “I’d kill for my cable box.” He raised a hand to stop Scott from saying anything. “A bad joke, I’ll
see what I can do.”

“How long will it take?”

“A few hours, if things go well. Relax, it’ll be safe here. Last time I checked, this was a police department.”

Scott grimaced. “All the same, I’m not letting this out of my sight.”

“Suit yourself,” Ken said as he turned the box over and removed the screws from the underside with an electric screwdriver.
He set the top aside, then took out a set of tiny tools. “But it’s going to be a long wait.”

Honolulu, Hawaii

Evening, Sunday, 23 January

He drove into the parking garage; his eyes losing sight of the convertible as it went down the ramp to the second level. He
parked on the first level temporarily, just to make sure this wasn’t some kind of trick. The parking garage was next to the
downtown police station, and he didn’t want to make a scene if Scott decided to leave the garage without parking. He waited
a few minutes, then drove down the ramp to the second level. When he spotted the convertible, he parked in an empty stall
adjacent to it.

He stepped out, whistled softly and excitedly as he grabbed a toolkit from the rear of the truck, thrilling to the wonder
of the hand on his shoulder. He glanced into the side mirrors of the tow truck as he passed, the white badge on his uniform
catching his eye.

He kneeled beside the convertible, popped the cover on the toolbox and removed the Slim Jim. He supposed he could have cut
his way through the soft top just as easily, but it’d be obvious that someone broke into the car if the top was slashed.

In fifteen seconds, he was inside the car, pulling the hood release. A moment later, he was looking under the hood for the
ignition wires. As he set the bomb in place, he chuckled softly. It was enough C-4 to make sure there wasn’t a lot left.

He closed the hood, wiped it clean of fingerprints and walked back to the tow truck. As he started the engine, he saw the
fireball the bomb would make in his mind’s eye and thought to himself it was a pity he wouldn’t be around to see it. But the
hand was guiding him to Maui and to Wellmen.

Scott stopped gritting his teeth and moved behind Ken. “Well?”

Ken waved Scott back. “This isn’t right.”

“That’s the third time you said that.”

“And I meant it every time. This is embedded coding, in a list of some type, but I can’t get at all of it. I’ll convert it
from hex to characters, give me a moment.”

“It’s a list of communications connections, you already said that,” Scott said disappointedly, “and I already told you that
you don’t need to see it, you don’t need to convert it.”

Ken said quietly, “I knew that an hour ago. You see gibberish, I see words. I was talking about the code that is interlaced
within the other code. But I can’t follow it because I can’t get to the base kernel.”

Scott leaned over and squinted his eyes at the insides of the box. “Try a different chip.”

“This is the one. Damned Flash ROM, maybe if I just dumped the code and then flashed it, maybe I’d be able to see what was
hidden in the base.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “Dump?”

“Download, of course, except for the base I can’t get to, but I know it’s there, there’s always a tiny bit of code that is
unerasable on a Flash ROM. Some larger, some smaller, but always there.”

Scott heard Helen’s yawn and cocked his head in her direction. She was curled up, practically in Janet’s lap now.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “You guys hungry? Burgers sound good?”

Ken replied quickly. “Zippy’s three blocks down. I’ll have a large chili and a bacon burger.”

Helen stretched out, her feet hanging over the edge of the couch. She sat up, reached for the car keys. Janet peeled open
her eyelids. “Coffee,” she whispered, “it’s got to be better than the coffee here.”

Helen jingled the keys in her hand and smiled at Scott.

“There’s a bacon burger with your name on it.”

Scott glared at her. “No one goes anywhere alone; we all leave together.” He took a handful of change out of his pocket and
handed it to Helen. “I saw vending machines by the coffee maker.”

Helen turned up her lip and was just about to leave the room when Ken grabbed Scott’s arm. “I’m in!” he shouted, “Will you
look at that, better than anything Rubik could have—” Ken cut himself off with a hiss and muttered in a voice Scott barely
understood, “Dear God, there’s a virus attached. It’s going to wipe out the code.”

Scott sank to his knees, the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He whispered words from the voice clawing at the
back of his mind, “The future is information. Those who control information, control the future.”

Ken mumbled, “No, wait, it’s… It’s attacking my computer. I can’t get this, I can’t get this,” as his fingers pounded away
at the keys. He stopped typing for a moment, grabbed Scott’s shoulder. “Get the disc case, there’s an orange disc in there.
Hurry.”

Scott made a grab for the disc case on the other end of the desk. It was on the top shelf. Books went flying. He fumbled through
the discs in the case looking for an orange one, found it, handed it to Ken who inserted it into the waiting disc drive.

Ken went back to typing fast and furious. Scott stumbled onto the couch in the place Helen had been occupying until a few
minutes ago. He scratched at his right temple as he fought to think through everything Glen had told him about the box and
Wellmen. And then he wondered why he was sitting here and where was Glen and why wasn’t Glen in Honolulu?

Scott stood. “We’ve been here too long. I don’t like the feel of this anymore. Disconnect, get out.”

“I’m there, I’m almost there.”

Scott grabbed Ken’s hands. “No stop, you don’t understand.

You don’t want to know the truth that’s there; I can’t let you continue. There’s too much at risk here and if the people behind
this even suspect that you know too much, you’re a walking dead man. Put the case back together. Wipe all records of what
we’ve been doing from your computer.”

“You don’t understand, the virus is already doing it. It’s wiping out everything.”

“Let it finish then, but disconnect everything. Put it all back together.”

“But my computer, everything’s there. All my work, my—”“Let it finish. You have backups don’t you?”

“Last month.”

Scott patted Ken’s shoulder. “Better to lose a month’s work than your life. I think we found enough.”

“We did?”

Scott smiled reassuringly. “Yes, we did. You were a great help, but now I have to ask you a big favor. I have to ask you to
forget about the box, everything. Can you do that for me?”

Ken nodded, went to work putting the box back together.

Scott paced in nervous little circles. A few minutes passed, then he asked, “How easy would it be to go to Maui by boat?”

“As easy as taking a fishing charter in the morning. I’ll make a call to a buddy of mine and get us a boat.”

“
Us
? Go home to your wife and kids.”

“You need me.”

Scott shook his head.

“I know too much.”

“I told you to forget what you know.” Scott picked up his keys from the desk. “Make the phone call.”

Scott chased Helen off to the vending machine while Ken dialed the phone. By the time she returned with munchies, Ken had
the captain of the Sea Walker agreeing to a 5 a.m. charter. When he hung up the phone, Ken turned to Scott and said, “Let
me take you to the boat in the morning. I didn’t tell him you wanted to go all the way to Maui. He thinks you’re a standard
charter, someone I know from the San Francisco P.D.”

“What if we wanted to leave sooner than 5 a.m.? Could you call him from the marina and convince him to meet us?”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“You wouldn’t want to do it at night, too much can go wrong out there.”

“Would he agree to meet us?”

“Wouldn’t have to meet us, lives on the boat. He’s there now, that’s not the problem. The problem is motoring to Maui now.”

“Our problem, not yours.” Scott tucked the case into his left sport coat pocket, grabbed a bag of chips and opened it as he
walked into the corridor. He glanced back over his shoulder as he walked to the elevator to make sure the others followed,
but his thoughts were elsewhere. He took the elevator up and then walked across the pedestrian walkway to the adjacent parking
garage.

When the garage elevator stopped on Level Two and the doors opened, Scott was the first to exit. He ran his fingers across
the ignition key as he walked to the car. Janet, Ken and Helen were a few steps behind him—at least he thought they were.
He opened the car door, slipped the key into the ignition, was about to turn the car over, and only then realized he was alone.
He had a clear view to the elevator and could see Janet but not the others.

He thought about starting the car and driving over to her, but beeped the horn instead. He yelled, “Hurry up!”

He thumped the steering wheel while he waited impatiently, his right hand going to the key in the ignition as his patience
came to an end. Just then Janet opened the passenger door. He told her, “Just like last time, get in the back seat, and stay
out of sight.”

“It’s dark out,” Janet complained.

“Where’s Ken?”

“Waiting for Helen by the elevator, I think she went to the bathroom.”

Scott’s eyes went wide. “When?”

“I’m not sure.”

Scott’s heart skipped. He touched his thumb and forefinger to the key in the ignition. He wanted to start the car to get ready
to go; he was anxious to get away but didn’t know why. He paused, thinking, removed the keys. “Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

He jumped out of the car and raced to the elevator, tossing the keys to Ken as they met. “I’m going to find Helen, get in
the driver’s seat and wait for me. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Scott pushed the elevator’s Up button, his eyes wandering to the sign for the stairs to his left. He was halfway to the stairs
when the elevator’s bell dinged. He spun around, raced back to the elevator and slammed into Helen as he ran inside. “Jesus,
where were you?”

Helen smiled and said, “Bathroom.” She waved to Ken in the car.

As Scott started to turn around, his eyes toward the car, he heard the engine turn over. There was a sickening feeling in
the bottom of his gut as he realized something wasn’t right and an instant later, an explosion knocked him to the cold cement
of the parking garage. Helen was at his feet, he crawled over to her, wrapped his arms around her, his body over hers shielding
her.

He cut off Helen’s screams with a cupped hand and dragged her toward the stairwell. Just as the door to the stairwell clicked
shut, a second explosion rocked the parking garage. The gas tank on an adjacent car burst and the car went up in flames.

Scott pulled Helen to her feet and propelled her toward the stairs. Two flights of stairs lay between them and the street.
He passed Helen, taking the stairs two at a time, pulling her behind him.

As they reached the exit door, they heard sirens sounding from several different directions. Scott paused, poked his head
out. Squad cars were pulling up in front of the garage. Officers were running toward the street entrance from the police station.

Just then there was a third explosion.

Helen raced out into the street in front of him. There was another parking structure next door. She ran toward the street-level
entry door. Scott followed.

***

Someone grabbed Scott’s arm and twisted; it wasn’t Helen. The grip was strong, viselike. The assailant shouted, “What do you
know?” Scott broke away, moved into a defensive stance with Helen behind him. The assailant repeated, “What do you know?”

Scott turned, attempting to move back to the entry door. It was kicked closed in his face. He drew his Browning; it was kicked
out of his hand.

“Not yet,” the assailant shouted.

Scott launched forward, like a bull, knocking the other man off his feet. He grabbed the man around the neck, thrusting the
man’s head back into the concrete. He wrestled the other onto his stomach. As the man turned back to him, screaming, Scott’s
face showed recognition and confusion. “John? John Tippton?”

John’s elbow shot back, catching Scott in the throat.

“Surprised you remembered.”

Scott reeled back. John turned over, his foot sweeping out, catching Scott’s leg. Scott held firm, didn’t go down. “Colorado,
you were there. What in the world are you doing? Do you know what you’re doing?”

John jumped to his feet. The two squared off. “I’m a survivor, Scott. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s
that. You do what it takes, whatever the price.” John circled, moving Scott into the corner of the stairwell, making sure
he was between the door and Scott. “Didn’t expect to see me after that, did you?”

Scott grabbed Helen and pulled her toward him. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.” John started laughing.

Helen screamed. Scott stamped on her foot and pushed her back into the wall behind him. “You can’t have it.”

John cocked back the hammer on his gun. The clip had fourteen rounds. He suspected he’d need only two or three. “You’ve got
it wrong, all wrong. I get her, he gets the package.”

Scott turned and for the first time saw what Helen had seen just then. “Glen?”

Glen emerged from the shadows, glared at Helen. He was armed with a pump-action shotgun. “This wasn’t part of the bargain.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the car.”

Scott expected the response to come from John, but it came from Helen. “I don’t control his actions. How was I to know he’d
come back for me? Damned fool. He has the box though, so it worked out just as well.”

Helen moved out from behind Scott, reached into his shirt pocket and grabbed the box. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She backed away from Scott, toward John. “You killed Janet, you son of a bitch. That wasn’t part of the bargain!”