The Trigger (23 page)

Raff worked quickly to set up the code. There was so much he still wanted to manipulate. And so little time.

* * *

Spencer sat in front of the monitor and couldn’t see straight for a moment. Excitement, fear, and anguish made blood rush to his head and his eyes blur. The thing he kept coming back to was that Sonja was a federal agent. She had played him like a patsy and it hurt. Loneliness had made him vulnerable, and it shamed him. But he had to get past it. Right now, they had to keep pushing the system until it toppled. Someone had to be willing to think long-term. He and Randall had known for years it was the right thing to do, and circumstances had finally forced them to act.

It was time. Spencer queued up the first batch of emails and hit send. Not letting himself stop and process what it meant, he kept going, releasing batch after batch. Some recipients would start taking money out of ATMs immediately. Others wouldn’t even open their email until Monday morning. The effect might have been better if he had waited until Sunday night like he’d planned, but he had to act now or his head would implode.

After a while, Raff said, “He’s right about the DNS root servers. I’m gonna see if I can get access to 60 Hudson Street’s security.”

“No. Let’s just finish this financial assault. Maybe step it up if we can.”

“Oh, we can.” Raff grinned, like a bully about to punch someone.

Spencer wished he could have set the trigger without enlisting the help of someone who didn’t understand or respect their cause. “I don’t want to do any physical damage or hurt anyone. We’re just trying to shut down the social and financial engines that are driving us to extinction. We want people to get back to basics and thrive.”

Raff laughed, a nasty sound. “You’re delusional. People will be hurt. They’ll lose their jobs and their homes. They’ll starve.”

The argument unnerved him because he knew it was true. “But not for long. People will regroup and farm the land. They’ll build collectives and start sustainable businesses.”

“What about the takers, the crazies, and the jihadists?” Raff shook his head. “In a suddenly chaotic world, evildoers will take advantage.”

“There are more good people than bad. Society will rebuild.”

“You’re not worried about Islamic extremists taking advantage of the chaos and lax security in the United States?”

Oh shit.
They hadn’t even thought about that. “The airlines will shut down for lack of fuel. The terrorists won’t be able to come here.”

“They’re already here.” Raff rolled his chair over and clapped Spencer on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, the sleeper cells will be distracted by the war in the Middle East.”

At first Spencer didn’t react to the common phrase, but Raff’s tone was so confident and sly, he began to fill with dread. “What war in the Middle East? Are you talking about the conflict in Syria?”

“I’m talking about the mother of all holy wars. As long as we’re starting over and determining a new future, I’d like a world with fewer Islamic assholes blowing things up.”

Panic ripped through Spencer. “What are you saying?”

Raff grinned again. “I shifted some money around and may have started a war between Israel and Syria.”

For a moment, Spencer was too stunned to speak, then outrage enveloped him. “Put the money back! Right fucking now. You have to undo this.”

“I couldn’t put it back even if I wanted to. They tightened their security—but a little too late.”

“Then we have to contact them. You have to stop this.”

“Good luck with that.” Raff turned back to his computer. “I have more buttons to push.”

Oh dear god.
He’d unleashed a monster. Spencer’s mind went blank as rage took over. He lunged forward, grabbed Raff by the shirt, and yanked him out of his chair. “Get out of my sight! And off my property!”

Raff straightened his glasses and chuckled. “It won’t change anything. I can hack portals from anywhere.” He pointed a finger. “You started this. I’m just making it a real transformation instead of your half-assed effort.”

Spencer wanted to pound his smug face with a fist. But Raff would just hit him back, and a fistfight wouldn’t stop the hacker from doing whatever else he had planned. Was it already too late?

“Excuse me.” Spencer walked out of the room, then ran down the hall to get his handgun. He had to stop Raff from doing more damage. Iran and Israel had nuclear weapons, and millions of innocents could die in a single blast.

He grabbed his Glock and ran into the hallway, then heard Lisa call to him from her bedroom. He didn’t have time for her right now. He stuck his head in and said, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

Spencer strode across the living room and into the data center.

Raff glanced up as he came in. “Whoa! Don’t shoot me. We can talk about this.”

They were beyond negotiation. He pointed the weapon at Raff’s head. “Put both hands on the desk. Now!”

The hacker did as instructed. Spencer turned the gun around in his hand and stepped forward. With Raff watching him intently, he smashed the butt down on the hacker’s right fingers.

Raff shrieked in pain. “What the fuck!” He pulled his crippled hand to his chest.

“Put out your other hand.”

“No!”

Spencer pressed the gun to Raff’s head, surprised at how calm he felt. “Your hands or your life. Choose.”

Whimpering, Raff put his other hand on the desk. Spencer smashed those fingers too.

“When I’m finished with my work here, I’ll set your broken fingers and give you some pain meds. For right now, get out of my sight.”

“You’re crazy!” Raff called over his shoulder as he shuffled from the room.

Spencer tucked the gun into the back of his pants and went to see Lisa. He wasn’t worried about Raff. Even if he left Destiny, he wasn’t likely to tell the authorities anything.

He stepped into her room, smiling and trying to seem calm. Every conversation could be her last, and he wanted her death to be peaceful. Spencer glanced at little Tate. He was sleeping easily, but Lisa looked troubled.

“Spencer, you have to stop this.” Her voice was weak, but he sensed her intensity.

Did she know?
“What do you mean?”

“The trigger. Don’t do it. It’s not right.” Her breath was so ragged, each word came in a little puff.

She must have overheard him and Randall talking. “You know we have to shut down the industrial complex. Humans won’t survive global warming.”

“Some people will. It doesn’t have to be you… and your brother.”

But he wanted it to be him and Randall. They had prepared for it. They deserved to survive. “Why shouldn’t it be us?”

“Because you’re a good man, and the suffering you cause will haunt you.”

She was right, and for a second he hated her for it. “Everything is already in motion.”

“You can stop it. I beg you.”

Lisa grabbed his hand and squeezed. Crushing guilt and grief overwhelmed him. For a moment he couldn’t think. If not for Emma and Sonja’s captivity, couldn’t they just go back to the way it was? Or start over somewhere else?

Lisa’s dying eyes locked onto him, and Spencer tried to weigh his options… and obligations. He had to talk to Randall. Hopefully his brother would be rational. He’d gone to Sonja’s apartment to gather up her things and eliminate any evidence that she’d been there. Spencer would confront him when he came back.

“It’s probably too late,” he finally said, “but I’ll try.

Dallas ran along the back of the fields, glancing down the rows of corn, watching for movement on the road in the distance. Behind her, Emma struggled to keep up. Dallas was torn. She wanted to stay with Emma because that was her original mission, to find and rescue the kidnap victim. But so much more was at stake now, and the sooner she notified the bureau the better. She might also be better off without Emma in tow if she encountered someone.

She turned to Emma, who was breathing hard. “I’m going ahead. I need to contact the bureau right away. When you get close to the community, just sit down and wait for me to come back.”

“What’s going to happen to Randall?”

Why did she still care?
“I don’t know.” Dallas adopted a more commanding tone. “Get close to the houses, but stay out of sight and wait for me. Or another agent.”

Dallas took off, running at full pace. She had to get to her apartment and access a phone or a computer. She would try the computer first, because the satellite internet was more reliable than the phone service. She also needed a weapon, feeling naked without her gun. She knew where Spencer kept his weapons and could probably access one. Should she grab a rifle on the way or make contact first? She couldn’t decide. She wished she knew where Randall was. He’d probably gone straight to Spencer to tell him she was an agent. They were either on their way out to the bunker to kill her or working feverishly to put their plans in place. Which meant Spencer was likely in the data center with Raff. But where would Randall be? She couldn’t predict.

Contact first, she decided. She was too outnumbered and outgunned in the community to stop this doomsday plot on her own. She glanced toward the road again. She hadn’t seen or heard any movement in the dark. At least they didn’t know she’d escaped yet.

The field ended, and she started down a path toward the main storage lockers. Were there weapons in there? Dallas shut off the light still strapped to her head and slowed her pace. She didn’t want to attract any attention. Jogging up to the first building, she groaned in disappointment. It had a keypad like the one in the bunker.
Shit.
She tried the pushdown handle anyway. Locked.

A smaller storage building nearby was also locked. From here, she might be visible to anyone looking out their window or wandering around the community. In the middle of the night, most of the members were likely asleep, but the ones she feared were not. Dallas stopped in her tracks. Were other Destiny people involved in the plot? Not knowing, she couldn’t trust anyone. To get to her apartment, she had to cross the open space behind the brothers’ homes. She considered crawling to keep out of sight, then rejected it. She was in a hurry—and dressed in black.

Dallas ran like the wind toward the safety of the community center, then pressed herself against the side while she caught her breath. She was almost there. She rounded the corner and took off down the path, glancing left to see if Randall’s vehicle was still in his driveway. The sight of his truck gave her mixed emotions. He hadn’t left yet to blow up something, and that was good, but his continued presence was a risk to her life. The footpath to the apartment complex ran behind several houses, but their interior lights were off. Unless Randall had notified everyone to watch out for her, she would make it.

As she sprinted, a stupid thought popped into her head. Had she locked her apartment when she left? Did she still have her key? Dallas stopped behind a tree and checked her front pocket. The key was still there. She slipped her hand into her other pocket and rubbed her lucky cloth. Now she was ready.

Dallas bolted past the homes and headed for the stairs leading up to her unit. As she neared, she sensed movement in the road. Dallas spun and saw Raff shuffling toward her.

“Help me.” His voice was a sob, and he held his hands against his stomach.

Dallas tensed. The hacker was definitely part of their scheme. Did he have a gun?

“The bastard broke my fingers,” he whined.

Dallas didn’t know what to think. “Who?”

“Spencer. You have to drive me to the ER.” He was trying not to cry.

“I can’t right now.”

She spun and charged up the stairs. Key still in hand, she stuck it into the deadbolt and turned. As she pushed the door open and stepped inside, she realized she hadn’t heard a click. Maybe she’d left it unlocked. As she started to reach for a light, something hard and heavy smashed into the back of her head. She staggered forward, fighting to think through the pain. In a blind rage, she grabbed the first thing she saw and swung around with it gripped in both hands. The metal laptop smashed into Randall’s neck and ear as he charged her again.

He cried out but raised his arm to strike another blow. He held a large handgun, she realized. Dallas ducked to the side as it came toward her head. When she’d regained her footing, she punch-kicked his knee, knocking him sideways. He staggered and went down on one knee, still gripping the weapon. She needed her fucking gun! Did the bastard have it on him? She moved in for a kick to his throat and heard a sound behind her.

Dallas spun back. Just as she caught sight of Emma’s blond hair, the woman smashed her temple with a fist-sized rock. Her world went dark as she collapsed.

Dallas lapsed in and out of consciousness as they restrained her wrists, ankles, and mouth with her own duct tape. At one point she heard Emma ask, “Are we going to kill her?”

She thought she heard Randall say, “No, she can bear children.”

Blood trickled down her face, and Dallas kept her eyes closed. They might as well think she was out of it.

“I’m heading out to destroy an internet hub,” Randall said, his voice excited. “Come with me. It’ll be exhilarating.”

“I want to see Tate in the hospital.” Emma moved toward the door.

Randall followed. “He’s at Spencer’s and he’s getting better.”

“I need to see my baby.”

Randall grabbed his wife by the shoulders. “But you’ll come with me after that? I need you, Emma. Let’s start this new era together.”

She paused, then said, “All right.”

The couple kissed and walked out.

Dallas wanted to punch Emma in the face. The stupid twat. Why the hell didn’t she run when she had the chance? She deserved whatever happened to her.

Dallas focused on the duct tape across her mouth. It was a short piece and hadn’t stuck well. If she could work it loose and get herself over to a spare cell phone, she might be able to make a call.

McCullen woke in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. He’d been awake off and on, hoping to hear from Dallas again. Her last text had come around eleven when she’d said she was going out to search for the bunker. It had been less than four hours, but he was worried.