Splicer (34 page)

"Redfield, you talk like someone who
knows
something. But you know
nothing
. You were like the sorcerer’s apprentice. A mouse next to a god. You have no business, no intellectual right, to even comment on a chain of events so far out of your ability to ..." Grieves stopped, a blue tinge to his lips. His cheeks were purple.

"If you had it, you wouldn't be upstairs right now still trying to write the damn thing." With that, automatically, Grieves' eyes went up to the ceiling and Jayne launched herself at the basement door. Rusty yelled out her name but it was too late. What he didn't realize was that Jayne wasn't aiming herself at Grieves. She was reaching for the light switches. When she slammed into the opposite wall, she slapped her hand down across them and the room reverted to an absolute, numbing blackness.

Rusty was frozen in a crouch, afraid to move his feet. He felt the crowbar with his fingers. They could hear Grieves, swinging his gun in the dark. Then he fired, guessing that any hit would be to his advantage. The bullet struck the hard steel door of the shelter, then ricocheted with a piercing whine, the bullet spinning through the air. Rusty squatted, gripped the crowbar hard, hesitated for a second, waiting for the next shot, then flung the tool hard in Grieves' direction.

Jayne was somewhere close to Grieves. But Rusty guessed she was lower, perhaps even on the floor. He threw the bar high, heard it whistle through the air, hoping it wouldn't strike her by mistake. There was a sickening thud and the crisp sound of skull bones giving way. A body went down, the air squeezing out of someone’s lungs.

“Jayne?” whispered Rusty, anxious to know who he had hit with the crowbar.

“You brained Grieves,” she said. “I’m alright.”

Rusty ran toward the door, stumbled on Grieves who was crouched over, and cracked his head against Jayne who was now standing against the wall. She groaned out loud. He scrambled for the door and pushed his way up into the stairs. Jayne had her hand on the back of his sleeve, right behind him. He stomped through the main floor entrance into the kitchen and past it, into the great room, which included a large hand-built granite fireplace. Rusty stopped at the front door, then turned back to a set of sofas around a coffee table. On it sat a personal computer and a small desk lamp. To Jayne's surprise, he turned, picked up the monitor screen and main computer box in both arms, wrenched the power cords from the units, and flung them at the base of the fireplace where they disintegrated into glass, plastic and small machine screws. The sound of their destruction seemed to energize Rusty who flew out through the heavy front door, Jayne close behind, out into the still raging rain storm.

The lawyer and her redheaded client stood in the stand of pine two hundred yards from the front door of the cabin. The door was flapping on its hinges in the wind, slamming against the walls of the cabin. There was still no sign of Grieves.

"He'll go absolutely nuts when he sees his computer. There's nothing worse that I could have done to him." Rusty was still out of breath. He sounded slightly crazed. "That move you made on him was pretty gutsy."

"Pretty desperate, you mean," answered Jayne, crouching beside him.

"Where is he anyway?" she asked.

"Maybe you killed him."

"What if I did?"

"You probably saved our lives."

"But what happens to me?"

"Self defense. I was there, I saw it."

"I've heard that before."

Jayne rubbed the rain out of her eyes.” Rusty. I told Kozak."

"Told him what?"

"Told him that you were with me the night that Shay ... during the homicide."

Rusty exhaled, then reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Think that will change anything?"

"They sent Otter to New York." Jayne answered, but Rusty didn't understand.  "They switched the investigation over! You're no longer the prime suspect."

"Which means?"

"Which means you're off the hook. You get your life back."

He shrugged. "That's pretty funny considering our circumstances."

Jayne pushed her hair back out of her face. Her mascara had run, forming two dark wounds under her eyes. "He must be hurt. We should have stayed."

"Forget it. The last thing I wanted to do was wrestle the guy in the dark for his handgun. When he comes out,
if
he comes out, we'll follow him. Take him from behind."

"Why don't we just leave?"

"If he doesn't come out in ten minutes, that's not a bad plan. But without a car, it won't be easy."

"Anything would be better than waiting here." Another crack of thunder. "Was that true what you said about the
Splicer
?"

"I told you, I
always
tell the truth."

"Not exactly. This is the first I've heard that Grieves never solved the project."

"Grieves is a complex guy stuck in a weird situation." Rusty laughed then, or rather chuckled through clenched teeth. "Another way of saying
shit head
. He hates the idea of the
Splicer
. Hates everything it stands for. But hated even more the idea that he can't solve the riddle. His whole self-worth is wrapped up in computer programs. It's the only thing he does well. Or did."

"So he didn't want to admit he couldn't figure out how to make the
Splicer
tick?"

"He lied. Said he had it. But he wouldn't let anyone else have it either. The thought of never solving the problem was driving him crazy. And the fear of what would happen if he did solve it was turning him into a guilt-ridden psychotic. He came up here to finish it, and then figure out how to make sure that no one else ever figured it out. Then he found out that somebody else was on to him, besides us and the police."

"Like whoever killed Ludd."

Rusty lifted one foot out of the water, then another, shaking his shoes. "And Shay. I guess they thought if Grieves was hiding codes then others might know about it. Like me. But they couldn't find me so they found Shay."

"It's not your fault, Rusty!"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I knew Grieves was lying but I didn't exactly go public with the news." If anything, the rain seemed to fall harder. The sound of it striking the hard wet ground was like an ominous drum roll.

Jayne shivered. "Why didn't you?"

"Me? The accused felon? Who would believe me? It would just look like sour grapes. Besides, I wanted to see where it would all go. It all seemed like too much fun. And it drove Ludd crazy."

"It still doesn't make sense."

"How about this then? I had the codes they were looking for. The whole program was useless, but parts of the code worked brilliantly. I was pretty sure I could sell them for enough to live comfortably. What I forgot was - why buy them when you can just take them."

Jayne's breath caught, hitched in her throat. A shape was hunched in the doorway of the cabin. Then it moved slowly down the stairs and into the yard. It was Grieves. He was hurt but alive. And he was carrying a rifle.

When Kim Soo finished humiliating the slovenly Rosenblatt, she changed into hiking clothes and raced to the hotel parking lot where she jumped into her rental car. She had the directions to Malcolm’s hideout in the woods.

Rosenblatt had spilled everything. He confessed that Grieves had murdered Ludd with his help. Grieves was now the last piece of unfinished business on her agenda. Once he was gone, no one could connect Gray’s division to the murder.

When she turned on her GPS she realized it would be of little help. Most of the area she was going to be covering was unmapped. And Rosenblatt’s directions were sketchy – which was not surprising. After all, he was distracted. On the screen she could see the highway ending at a large blue shape, a lake with some long unpronounceable aboriginal name. Rosenblatt had said there was another logging road she could use. He couldn’t remember the name. But the lakes were all connected, he said. She recalled him blubbering this through hot tears, his face as red as a ripe tomato about to burst. He told her if she could find a ride, she could get to the hideout by water much faster. And then he begged her again to stop.

Three hours later, fifteen minutes of that on a washboard road in the dark, she came to a small marina on Lake Musquatatiska. The owner said a storm was brewing and he refused to rent her a boat without a valid license. He had no idea of course that just the thought of crossing that dark surface chilled her to her bones. And he had no interest in driving her. But he did give her the name of the owner of a large cabin next door - a cabin featuring a large boathouse attached to a massive dock.

Kim Soo knocked on the knotty pine cabin door just as the rain started to fall. The owner was about fifty and alone. His family had gone back to Toronto for the weekend.  She convinced him to go out on the stormy lake and drop her off at Grieves’ cabin. She did this by offering him a thousand dollars in cash and flirting shamelessly.

The visibility was extremely poor once the storm started to whip up the surface of the lake, and Kim Soo couldn’t help but notice that her pilot was a bit unsteady on his feet. Never dreaming he’d be out on the water that evening, he’s started drinking early. But a thousand dollars was a thousand dollars and who knew what other payment might be due if he got her safely to her destination? He wasn’t going to let a little bad weather get in his way.

Half way across the lake, another powerboat fueled by weekend booze, had come out of nowhere; probably racing across what they would normally have guessed was an empty and deserted body of water, trying to outrace the storm. The two boats struck at angles to each other coming out of a massive wave, shearing the fiberglass bows into shreds.

Kim Soo was flung through the air, without a lifejacket, into the heaving lake water.

When Kim Soo finally clawed her way to the surface, her eyes were wide and her head was in another world. As a child her punishments were unrelenting. She had often marveled at how a single stab of pain could twist her narrow back in agony or crush her face into a rictus of despair. But despite that, she had become practiced at distancing herself from the things she feared. She had learned to deal with pain in all of its forms - all of its subtle nuances and flavors. But she wanted nothing more now than to take one simple breath of air.

When Soo’s head broke the surface, she screamed out. But before she could inhale completely, she slipped under the waves again. It had taken all of her energy to thrash to the top. She had no extra reserves left and knew it. Finally, unable to resist any longer, she began to suck in a shuddering breath of lake water. She gagged and choked on it, aware that this was what drowning was all about. Then a hand squeezed her arm and pulled her up into the cold bluster of the night. She coughed raggedly, her nose burning, her eyes full of tears.

She looked up into the face of the boat’s owner, his eyes red and his dark hair slicked down across his face. He was bobbing in the churn of the lake. She grabbed for him then, thinking of nothing else.

“Where’s your life jacket?” he asked, trying to keep her at arm’s length.

“Help me,” was all she said and one of her long nails raked across his face. Blood erupted across his cheek. He winced with the pain.

“Stop fighting me. I’ve got you.”

“I’m drowning,” she screamed and grabbed him with both arms. The two of them went under then, the icy water filling her ears. He pushed her away with one foot, trying to escape her grasp. She reached out for him, taking a deep chunk out of his neck with her claws. He pushed her away again, this time harder - his arm crushing her nose. She tried to cry out and took in another long breath of water that burned like fire in her throat and chest.

He pulled her up again, this time by her hair from behind, trying to keep away from her hands. She was choking too hard to speak.

“Stop fighting me,” he yelled his voice hard. “Or we’ll both drown out here.”

Kim turned in a flash and leapt at him, her eyes wild. Again, they both slipped under the surface.

The man pushed her away once more, kicking her hard in the midsection in the process. The dark water above her head, the icy insistence of the cold at the back of her throat, filled her with a kind of fear she had never felt before. Or even imagined. Then she felt the impulse to breathe again and it was so strong she couldn’t resist. But instead of air she sucked in a liquid coldness that filled her lungs. So she tried to breathe again. This time she choked, feeling the darkness closing in on her. But everything was water now. Everything. There was no more air. Air was just a dream - a dream she would never have again.

Rusty had an impulse to charge Grieves, who tottered in the front grass like a pole-axed cow. By the time he raised the rifle, aimed - Rusty could be on him. Jayne sensed it somehow and put her hand on the nape of his neck. Her touch felt hot and slippery.

"He doesn't look very good," was all she said.

"He's just dazed. The longer we wait ... look."

Grieves had raised the rifle and was scanning with the scope around the clearing. His aim was wavering but his stance looked steadier. He swung the scope in their direction and they froze. Then they heard the retort of the gun echo off the trees and felt the bark of the pine in front of them shatter in their faces. Rusty spun as if shot and landed on his hands and knees, rubbing the splinters out of his eyes. Jayne grabbed his shoulders and pulled. Then she saw a piece of the upper part of his arm disappear, a violent spray of blood and gore painting the rocks beyond them. He jerked in surprise.

"I've been shot," was all he could say. Jayne pulled on his other arm. They were easy targets at the edge of the wood. She was afraid to look in Grieves’      direction, not anxious to feel a high-speed bullet tear into her. They lumbered into the thicker stand together, Rusty's left arm hanging at his side. They heard another shot but there was no evidence of its impact.

"Find a place to hide. The guys a goddamn marksman," growled Redfield.

Jayne pulled on him. "I don't think so. He was shooting at close range with a scope. Three shots. It's pure bad luck that one grazed you, that's all." It looked worse than that, but she didn't want to worry him. "We've got to keep moving."

"Where is the little bastard?"

"I can't see him through the trees. He's coming though."

The trees ended suddenly. Onto a rounded rocky outcropping that sloped slowly over to drop off more than twenty feet into another stand of smaller trees. There was another crash of thunder. The surface of the rock face was slippery with the rain. Jayne ventured out onto the escarpment and peered out past the edge. An impossible climb. Then she slipped and landed hard on her knee. She let out a gasp of pain. She rolled to the edge and felt her body carried over by her momentum. She grabbed at the ridges in the granite, felt herself slip again, afraid to yell. Rusty turned from the dark line of the trees and his eyes showed shock and confusion. He ran to her, grabbed one wrist with his right arm. His left shook and pulsed, the sleeve raw and bloody.

"I'm going over," she choked.

"Like hell you are." He dug his toes into the veined rock, aware that any second Grieves would crash through the trees and sight his rifle on them. She was swinging now, almost her whole body free from the rocky overhang. One hand clung to the smooth rock, her other hand on Rusty's forearm. He felt himself slipping.

"Try not to swing. Try to hold still." He saw her eyes, half closed, afraid to look down. The fingernails of her right hand were broken and chipped. He lowered himself, hoping that his whole body on the rocky shelf would provide more friction.

"You've got to let go, Rusty. He'll be here any moment." Rusty didn't answer. He pulled as hard as he could with his good arm. He couldn't budge her. Too much of her weight was over the edge, he might as well be trying to move the whole ridge. He looked beyond her. Twenty feet. A thick stand of pine trees. Grieves at any second would burst through the trees behind them.

"Jayney?" he said.

"Yes," she said, wondering at his expression.

"I love you."

She stopped struggling and stared at him. Her eyebrows were knit. She looked both worried and on the verge of tears. Then both of them slipped over the edge and plummeted into the trees below.