Watch Dogs (35 page)

Starling was half turned in his seat beside the pilot; he stared at Wolfe, mouth hanging open, as if seeing an apparition.

Wolfe had the .45 in his right hand; in his left the PearcePhone, pressed to his ear. He was leaning in the doorframe to keep from falling over. He’d lost a lot of blood. His knees were weak. The cockpit seemed to slowly sway back and forth in front of him...the black specks were swarming more thickly over his vision...

Then Pearce’s voice in the phone jolted him alert. “Wolfe--I’ve got control of one of the drones...holy shit, that one ahead...there’s a man clinging to it!”

Verrick was alive out there.

“Shoot it down!” Wolfe said.

“No weapons on this thing. It’s all about hacking into passenger jets...which it’s gonna do in about one minute, Wolfe! It’s getting in range of that airliner up there!”

The drone, once in range, would take over the passenger jet’s automatic pilot, and crash it into a pre-picked target in Chicago. Probably the Blume building. The other electronically-hijacked jets would be hitting power plants, City Hall, hospitals, anyplace they could create maximal damage and panic. The special ctOS power backups would come on, and restore ctOS control to most of the time...A state of emergency would be declared, and Verrick would use it to take over the area...

Wolfe could almost taste what was about to happen, if Verrick succeeded--taste it like a poison pill melting bitterly on his tongue.

He saw an explosion, out the windshield, about two hundred feet below and well in front of the cargo jet. A drone had struck another.

And he thought he saw the flaming shape of a human body spinning away...

There goes Verrick, burning his way down into Lake Michigan and Hell.

“I’ve got another drone, Wolfe,” Pearce said. “But I don’t think I can get the others...they’re locking on their targets...”

“Pearce--the one you’ve got control of. Can you head it toward my position? Straight on, right at the cockpit. Fast.”

“What?”

“Just go. Make it happen.”

The black swarm was back, swirling like a cartoon tornado between Wolfe and Starling.

And Starling was staring at the gun. Maybe seeing Wolfe was dazed; maybe thinking about making a grab for it...

“Starling, you go for that gun, I’ll pull the trigger. Now I see that monitor, you’ve got set up there, between you and the pilot. Says Drone Command on the screen there. You just go to that interface, Starling, and you deactivate those drones. All of them. All four of the drones remaining. Now. Or you’re going to die and you won’t live to see Purity’s glorious triumph.”

“You won’t kill us,” Starling said. “If you do, the drones do their job anyway. And you’d crash the plane. And it might hurt a lot of other people...”

“Starling--look out the windshield...”

“What is that up there?” The pilot said. “Starling! That drone! Turn it away from us!”

“Steer away from it!” Starling said.

Wolfe pointed a gun at the pilot’s head. “You change course I’ll blow your brains out. I can pilot this piece of junk.”

The pilot froze in his seat. “But--it’s going to hit us!”

“Yeah. Unless Starling does the right thing it’ll hit us in a little more than than,, forty-five seconds. Look at it, Starling! It’s coming!”

Starling stared out the windshield at the oncoming drone. It was getting bigger. Heading for them as if in a vengeful mechanistic fury. “You won’t let it hit us, Wolfe! You’d die too! The plane will crash and...”

“Yes. I will. We’re still over the Lake. Screw it, let’s all go down together right now. Tell you the truth I think I’m bleeding to death, anyway. Let’s go out with a bang, Starling. We’ve got control of one drone. No time to deal with the others so we’ll just crash that one into this...”

“It’s gonna hit us!” the pilot yelled. “It’s getting
close!
”

“Verrick is dead,” Wolfe said. Everything was spinning. He was afraid he was going to lose consciousness at any moment. “Who’s your boss now, Starling? It’s me, now! You deactivate those drones right now. And then you land this thing, and I won’t tell them about the thing with Bullock--he was a dirt bag anyway. I’ll tell ‘em you’re a valuable man. You won’t do much time...I’m your new commander. And I’m giving you three seconds to make up your mind...”

The drone was headed for the windshield...

“Sir yes sir,” Starling said.

And he turned to the drone command interface, hit the
deactivate
button.

The oncoming drone wavered, then lost power, and went diving downward, spiraling into Lake Michigan.

“Wolfe!” Pearce said. “The drones--they’re going down!”

The pilot said. “We’ve got two fighter jets on us...”
“Cargo jet 322,”
said a voice over the radio.
“This is Air Force Interceptor 2441, you are now required to head for runway 3, immediately. That is immediately, proceed on a heading to land at runway 3, or we will open fire...”

The pilot banked toward the runway. Wolfe shoved the Pearcephone deep in his pants. They’d have to really dig for it...

“What now,” Starling said. “What happens now?”

“Now
, Starling,” Wolfe said, struggling to remain on his feet. “We’re going down and you’re going to surrender and tell the people what Verrick was up. That’s an order. From me. So...” The black tornado was sucking at him. Drawing him in. His own voice sounded so distant in his ears. “So...just you...turn around in your seat, Starling, and you let the pilot land this thing, and you surrender to the nice people, or I’ll knock you...I’ll knock you...”

He didn’t manage to say that last word out loud.

Unconscious.

H
e heard voices, just penetrating the thick pearly gray fog that enveloped the world.

“He came close...” Some strange male voice. Maybe a touch of Asian accent to it. “...but he is a strong, resilient man, and the wounds themselves weren’t so bad. It was all that blood...”

“He still need transfusions?” It was Seline’s voice.

“No. We were basically out of his blood type but a rather odd man came in. He, ah, was, strikingly deformed. Said he’d just had his first bath in a year and could he give blood for Mr. Wolfe and...”

“That would be Blank.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind. Go on.”

“Well, we tested the man’s blood, it was safe to use, it was the right type, and...he didn’t have any identification but...it was an emergency and we took a chance...I really think he saved Mr. Wolfe’s life...”

“Who says I’m not dead,” Wolfe said. His voice came out a rasp. He was looking around but not seeing much. Just blurry silhouettes. One of the silhouettes was definitely shaped like Seline.

“I say so, Mick,” Seline said, sitting down beside Wolfe. He felt her hand on one of his. Her touch was cool, but there was a sweet warmth in it too. “You’re alive. I’m taking your pulse right now. Yep, there it is. Pretty strong.”

“Am I...” He swallowed. His throat seemed gummed up.

“Here--you want some water?”

He felt her left his head a little; felt a paper cup of water at his lips. He drank. It was a beautiful taste. Just cool water.

“Thanks.” He lay back and asked. “Am I under arrest? I mean--is there...did they...”

“It’s complicated, Wolfe. There were bodies on the plane. But...seeing as you saved a city...of course that’s still under discussion. There are people wondering if you might be the guy who...” She bent near his ear and whispered, so closely, he could feel her breath tickle. “...who stole a helicopter and crashed it. I told them no way was that you.”

“Thanks. You’re a great...character witness.”

She chuckled, and sat up. “They aren’t sure. Then there was that Federal Building mess...But Starling is talking. He says you gave him orders to talk--so he’s talking. You really psyched him out, Wolfe. And our mutual friend, Aiden, is using all his contacts on your behalf. And so is DedSec. And the SystemsLeak thing has really gone viral. That vindicates you and makes Verrick look like the creep he was. So with a little luck...”

“I...” He looked around. His eyes almost cleared, for a moment. Then the darkness closed in again. “...gave up on luck...Till I...”

He squeezed her hand. Then he lost consciousness again.

#

“The testimony of Mr. Starling, and the information from the drone recovered from the lake seems to confirm the story provided by Mr. Wolfe’s lawyers regarding the planned attack on Chicago. The District Attorney declines to prosecute Mick Wolfe, citing...”

Wolfe turned off the radio. “Hey nurse!” he shouted.

He found the button to call her. A minute later a fairly large cocoa-colored nurse with dyed-blond cornrows came into the room. “Who’s hollering in here? That you again, Mick? Did I not tell you to get some rest?”

“Done resting, Martha. I need you to take this IV out of my arm. I’m free to go, no more cops watching my room. I feel better. I can leave.”

“And you got a medical degree when?”

“It’s just common sense, Martha. I know why you’re keeping me here, really. And I don’t blame you. Women cannot resist me. But you have a wedding ring. It wasn’t meant to be.”

She laughed. “Oh listen to him! Now you
got
to go! I’ll ask the doctor...”

But it was almost two hours before he was out of the hospital, standing on the corner, on a sunny but cold winter afternoon, wondering what had become of his PearcePhone. He could get a standard phone. He knew Seline’s number. He wondered if it was the right thing to call her. Purity, in some form, was still out there. It was being investigated. Iceberg Investments had been shut down. Starling’s testimony had led to Marlon Winters being arrested. But there were still a lot of Purity members out there, most of them under cover. They had reason to hate Mick Wolfe. If they were after him--Seline would be in the crossfire. If, that is, she even wanted to be around him.

He’d thought she’d whispered something to him, while he was semi comatose...something about wanting--

“Mick! I’ve been looking for you, you idiot!”

Seline was walking up to him. She wore a long blue coat, something retro, like you’d expect to see Barbara Stanwyck wear in a 1940s movie, and a matching hat.

“Seline. Hi. I was just wondering if I should call you.”

“Wondering if! What a...”
“I just thought...I’m going to have a lot of enemies now.”

“That’s why you need me to watch your back, dummy.”

“You really want to do that?”

“Did I or did I not pick you up on the freeway when you were trying to get away with Bullock?”

“Yeah. But...”

“Never mind, yeah but. Let’s get some lunch. I’m starved. Come on, I’ve got the rental. We won’t have to steal one.”

They started off down the street together. Wolfe felt something strange, as he walked along. After a moment he realized it was something close to happiness. He’d forgotten what that felt like.

After a couple minutes, though, the worries came back. The first one had to do with Pearce. “Where’s the PearcePhone, Seline? I was wondering if someone could use it to trace Pearce.”

“Pearce made sure one of his EMT contacts was there when you were loaded into the ambulance. He had to pull it out of your pants. I guess it was kind of a little too intimate for the guy. But he did it. Pearce has it now.”

“I don’t want the damned thing anymore. It’s a magnet for trouble.”

“It saved your life more than once. But I know what you mean.”

They got to the car, she unlocked it, and they climbed in. She started the car, then turned to him. “Wolfe...I want you to know, you were a perfect gentleman when we were sharing quarters together. I appreciated that.”

“Okay.”

“But Wolfe...that was then. This is now.”

He blinked at her. What was he supposed to do now?

She made a sound of exasperation, and reached out, pulled him to her, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

After a moment he relaxed, and put his arms around her. And kissed her back.

There was that strange feeling again...

#

“Mr Quinn?”

Niall Quinn put out his hand. “Mr Winters?”

“Call me Marlon.” They shook hands.

“Okay. Call me Niall. Glad to see you made bail. A man like you shouldn’t have to sit in stir.”

“The bastards will never convict me.”

“Sit down, take a load off, Marlon. Have a drink.”

Winters looked around at the interior of the train car. “This is something. Old fashioned. Like something one of the old time tycoons would have--like Vanderbilt.”

“Sure, that’s what I had in mind,” Quinn said. “My dad always wanted one. It’s in his honor. It’s armored. It’s got every kinda electronic contraption you can imagine. I own the train it’s hooked up to. The whole thing is the latest--even though this here looks so old fashioned. Doors are electronic, so they can’t be jimmied or lock picked. It’s a fortress...one that moves!”