BRAINSTORM Page 24

  “Your . . . car?” I asked.

  “Just a little test drive before I buy,” she said. “You remember how to operate one of those?” Sunny asked nodding toward the grenade launcher.

  The question was ludicrous. I’d never touched one before, yet some sort of instinct took over, and I pulled the cocking lever back to chamber a round and flipped the selector off safety. “Hmm,” I said, “I guess I do.”

  “It’s nonlethal. Modified to shoot vortex ring charges, mean little rings of smoke that hurt like hell, but usually aren’t lethal.”

  I smiled at her and nodded as if it were something pleasant she was telling me like a preschool had recently opened down the street, or that bananas were on sale at the local grocery.

  As Sunny backed the vehicle around and turned off the headlights, behind us the big guy she’d called Sampson instructed Rajiv on a weapon he’d handed him. I noticed Sampson’s fatigues and rank insignia on his collar. The black rank pins indicated he was a Master Gunnery Sergeant in the U.S. Marines.

  “This is an anti-traction weapon,” he told Rajiv. “Squirts out some of the slickest shit you’ve ever seen. It’s like one of those Super Soaker squirt guns kids have these days. Range is about seventy-five feet. Trigger’s right there. Try it.”

  Just then, three armed men came from around the side of the house.

  “Try it, now!” Sampson said, and Rajiv shot the liquid into the faces of the attackers and they quickly went down. They became covered in the oily substance from Rajiv’s weapon, preventing them from getting up, or even getting past thinking about it. All three men were on their backs, and no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t roll over.

  Rajiv grinned widely at Gunny Sampson. “I am finding this to be great fun!”

  Two more men busted around the corner, one of them sliding past the other three and fifteen feet into the yard, like he was a kid on a Slip ‘n Slide. The other man managed to stay on one knee. He started to swing his M-16 toward us, but the thing slipped from his grasp and clattered on the ground. He reached for his weapon, but it slid barely out of reach from his fingertips. He began to fall and grabbed for the side of the house, but his hand skidded from the lap siding and he ended up on his back like his companions.

  Sunny drove toward the neighbor’s yard, our weapons blazing. Two additional armed men came around the other side of the house, and their bullets whined by us as I popped a vortex ring charge at them. A smoke ring shot from the muzzle and grew exponentially as it raced to them-from an inch to probably six feet in diameter. The shock that overtook these attackers knocked them from their feet. They lay writhing in pain as we sped away. After going through two fences, we turned toward the street and came out on the other side of the police roadblock. The big man on the back slung lead into the two patrol cars blocking the road, flattening their tires as we sped away.

  We made several turns and drove slower once we were sure of not being followed. Sunny took a back street, and we ended up on a dirt access road leading up a wooded hill. Even though I had been born and raised in Gold Rush, I couldn’t remember ever seeing this passage that was now barely visible in the snow-covered ground.

  After pulling off the narrow road, we stopped under a clump of tall cypress trees.

  “I’ll shut this noisy thing off,” Sunny said and killed the engine. “It’s hell on ears without the muffler.”

  “We can’t sit here too long,” the big man said. “They’re sure to have infra-red.”

  I don’t know why I blurted it out, except that it dominated my thoughts and I felt the need to get it out into the open. “I killed my wife.”

  Sunny turned to me. “What?”

  “I killed my wife. Just like the others. She fell dead right in front of me. I didn’t mean to, but I know I’m somehow responsible.”

  Sunny grimaced, studying my eyes. “Robert, I’m . . . truly sorry. Very sorry.”

  I turned away and shook my head, changed the subject. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We don’t have one,” Sunny said. “Not since you wouldn’t cooperate.”

  “So this is my fault,” I said.

  Sunny’s eyes dammed up and tears spilled down her cheeks. “No, Robert, no.” Her emotions seemed genuine as she reached over and hugged me. “It’s just that we were so close. Our helicopters were right over the ridge.”

  Now she was in that lovey-dovey mood again. I couldn’t help but think this woman had serious bipolar or hormonal problems. “The helicopters?”

  “Yes, the ones we came in to rescue you.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What in the hell is going on?”

  The big man turned to me, frustration on his face. “What’s going on is, we’re rescuing my buddy. And we’re not going to leave until he’s safe.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He means my husband.”

  “All right, how does your husband fit into all of this?”

  “He’s been kidnapped like you and we think you know where he is.”

  “What are you talking about? I have no idea.”

  “Look, Robert, after all that’s happened, can you accept maybe you’re missing a little bit of your past. Like there are things you don’t remember. I mean, look at how you handled this gun. You said I looked familiar. Can you believe, if for only a little bit, there might be some things in your life you’ve somehow forgotten?”

  “I suppose so,” I said. “Like knowing you?”

  “Maybe. Let’s say we were friends back in college. Let’s say you know my husband Daniel McMaster well, and although sometimes you don’t act as if you like him much, you’re still close.”

  I frowned, not knowing what to make of all of this. “Go on.”

  “He’s my buddy, too,” the big man said.

  Sunny looked back at him and smiled. “This is Master Gunnery Sergeant Bernard Sampson. He and Dan were in the Marines together.”

  “Yeah,” Sampson said. “We went through a lot of shit together.”

  “Kindly excuse me, please,” Rajiv said. He reached out and shook Sampson’s hand, then Sunny’s. “I am Rajiv Shekhar, and I too have been in shit.”

  Sunny asked, “Where’d you find this guy?”

  “He found me,” I said. “He knows some things about Biotronics. I think he can help us find out what’s been going on around here. But then, maybe you can just tell us, now.” I stared at Sunny.

  “Okay, Robert. I’ll tell you all I can.”

  “All you can? That’s not all you know, though, is it.”

  “Robert, please. This is what I can tell you. Let’s say—”

  “Oh, now we’re on the ‘let’s say’ kick again.”

  Sunny ignored me. “You were kidnapped by Mount Rainy Biotronics. My husband and dozens of others, too. I think you can help me find them.”

  “Now why would Biotronics kidnap me? And when did this kidnapping supposedly happen?”

  “Two years ago. You’ve been gone that long.”

  “Gone? From where?”

  “Your home in California.”

  “My home is here in Gold Rush.”

  “No, this is your prison.”

  “Gold Rush is my prison?”

  “Yes, this town is the prison. You’re as captive as a bird in a cage. They’ve erased your memory and given you a new one and—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up a minute,” I said, shaking my head. The dog squeezed through from the back, used my thighs for steps to get to the floorboard in front of me and laid his head in my lap. I was alarmed at first, but his head lay still, seeming to mean no harm. I began stroking his neck.

  Sampson said to Sunny, “You’re going too fast. You’re going to lose him.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Sunny told him. “We have to get him at least this far.” Sampson nodded. Sunny went on. “I believe many of the residents in this town are also their prisoners.”

  Rajiv said, “That includes me, also! I have bee
n feeling like this bird you speak of. In Chicago they told me I was to be in the witness protection program after my family and I saw a gang shooting right there in front of us. We had a nice home in Chicago. The FBI knocked on the door one day and the next, I find we are in this place. We found this to be a pleasant home at first. Nevertheless, as time has gone on, I find it to be more like that birdcage every day. I would like to fly back to Chicago, now, please.”

  “Okay, okay, Raja, we’ll get to your problem later,” Sunny said.

  “That will be fine. But please, kindly do not forget us. My children, and sometimes even my wife—they are especially dear to me.”

  I said, “What about my wife, my kid? You’re not claiming Michelle wasn’t my wife, William isn’t my son?”

  “And if I did?”

  “I’d get really pissed, get out of this thing and walk away.”

  “Let’s say, then, what I believe about them doesn’t matter right now.”

  “It does to me.”

  “What’s important to all of us now is getting out of here. I’m not leaving without my husband. Sam and I have the chopper. If you want to leave with us, you’ll have to go along with what we say. I promise, it’ll be the best for all of us.”

  “And my son?”

  “We’ll get him out, too. And Raja’s family. You’re right. We need to go to Biotronics. I think that’s where we’ll find answers.”

  “My son’s in their hospital wing.”

  “Yeah, you told me. If he’s there, we’ll find him and bring him with us.”

  “I have a plan of my own,” Rajiv said. “I think I can help. Many armed men are surely searching for you. After all that has happened here tonight, the security at Mount Rainy Biotronics will be tighter than a camel’s butt at fly time. You will be unable to drive this contraption into the facility, guns flatulently blazing and expect to get to anyplace but down a rocky road to hell. Besides, it does not have a bumper pass.”

  “You’ve got a car, then,” Sampson said.

  “Yes. Yes, I do and although it is an especially fine car, it is still not big enough for our entire band of merry men, woman and canine. It is a Volvo and does not have big guns. But it does have a sticker pass on the front bumper.”

  “Okay, Rajiv,” I asked, “what’s your plan?”

  “I will leave you here and leap across fences and bushes . . .” He held his thumbs to the sides of his head with his fingers splayed. “ . . . like a horny deer until I come to my home and get my car. I will meet you on the road to the Mount Rainy Biotronics parking lot. You will recognize my car as it is small and blue. You stay put in this road-warrior’s nightmare we are in now until then. If I were to guess, I would say there will be a roadblock after the last curve before the facility. If you can find a place to wait in hiding before the curve, we will find each other. Without my spare tire, my croquet and bad-mitten sets, there is room for perhaps two people in my trunk.”

  Sunny asked, “How do you know where the road blocks might be?”

  “Biotronics has run many emergency drills in the past. That is always where they block the road. We must be cautious for there might be blockades elsewhere, also.” He glanced at his watch. His seemed keeping better time than mine had. “I will watch for you along the road. We must hurry. It is after eleven o’clock. Within thirty minutes, the third shift workers will be driving to work. This entire road will be like a huge jar of traffic jam.”

  “What happens when we get to Biotronics?” I asked him. “Their security won’t let us waltz right in.”

  “It may surprise you to find out I am not only a neurosurgeon but also what could be called a computer whiz. I can whiz on computers as good as anyone. My friend Carman Campa gave me access codes to all of Biotronics’ security programs when he thought something was fishy smelling. I have been careful not to use these codes because access of the high security programs is checked on a regular basis. But since we will soon blow out of this joint, I will get in and get you fixed up, my fakir. Because you are a patient, I am sure your handprints and fingerprints are on file, as are most all of the residents of Gold Rush.”

  Sunny asked me, “Did he just call you his—“

  “Fakir,” I interrupted. “It’s some kind of Hindu miracle maker.”

  Sunny frowned and nodded as Rajiv continued, “While you wait in my car in the parking lot, I will copy your prints, photo and other pertinent information to the top-level security files, authorizing you access through any door in the facility. I will also appropriate the proper attire for both you and your lovely companion and bring it back to my car as you wait in the parking lot. Then, you will be able to enter the building and as long as you do not run into someone who is familiar with you, you will be able to snoop and poop on as much as you wish.”

  I glanced at Sunny and Gunny Sampson. They both nodded. “Good luck,” I told Rajiv.

  “And may God be with you,” he said and got out. He ran, not quite like a deer, but more like a two-year-old with diaper rash.

  The dog whined and nuzzled my hand as I watched Rajiv’s departure. I realized I’d stopped petting him, and he encouraged me to continue with less than gentle nudges. How could I refuse? The large canine was nearly a hundred pounds, possessed fangs the size of a mountain lion and had his head in my lap. His eyes angled up at me, and he watched me intently.

  “What’s the deal on the dog? If I don’t cooperate, he’s going to bite my balls off, right?”

  “Don’t worry, he minds well.” Sunny patted his head. “No snacks before supper, Sarge.”

  Chapter 23

  We pulled onto the road again and drove cautiously without lights. Within a mile, just outside of town, we came to the main road leading to Biotronics. Scouring over the town behind us, helicopter searchlights lit up the snowy sky. Red lights flashed from emergency vehicles. Sirens blared.

  It would be only a matter of minutes before one of the choppers came along the road we were on and spotted us. Still without lights, we turned onto the pavement. With only scant light reflected from the white blanketed earth and the hazy, full moon appearing from behind the clouds on occasion to help illuminate our way, Sunny relied on her night-vision goggles and stomped on the gas. The small but potent engine roared, and she slammed it into second gear, the tires chirping, and then third and fourth gear, and we were quickly speeding along at what felt like ninety. She seemed an unlikely driver of such a war machine, but then, I’d found out early on that she was much more than what she appeared.

  About a mile from Biotronics, we came to a curve, and over the rise a red glow flashed that we figured came from a police car. Rajiv had been correct about the roadblock. We angled to the side of the road again. There was no way to get to Biotronics except by that road. The facility had been cut into the side of the nearly vertical face of the mountain.

  “What now?” I asked as all of us ducked low in the reactive-camouflaged vehicle, apprehensively watching a car pass and head toward the roadblock and Biotronics. I wondered what its occupants might of thought if they’d been able to make out much of our vehicle and the .50 caliber machinegun mounted on top. Hopefully, they thought we were supposed to be there—or a mirage.

  Sunny said, “Any ideas, Sam?”

  “I say, I drop you off and you get out of sight until Rajiv picks you up. Then I’ll go back for the chopper. You push that panic button around your neck when you’re ready—or in trouble.”

  “No,” I said. “I go alone.”

  “Bullshit,” Sunny blurted.

  “It’ll be too dangerous.”

  Another car went by, and we ducked protectively.

  Sampson said, “We don’t have much time.” He nodded back toward town.

  A line of headlights approached from down the road.

  Sunny gave me a penetrating look. “What do you think it’s been up until now, a game of patty-cakes? I’m going with you.”

  I knew it would be useless to argue.

  Sunn
y and I got out and Gunny Sampson handed her a backpack and what looked like a ragged blanket roll as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

  I patted the dog on the head, and he whined and licked my hand. Sunny embraced Sampson, while the big man glared back at me.

  “You’d better bring her back in one piece,” he said. “And make sure you get my buddy back, too.”

  I nodded to him.

  When Sampson pulled a U-turn, Sunny and I trotted down into some high weeds in the ditch. From there, we would wait for Rajiv.

  Sunny untied the blanket roll and shook it out. “This is an active camouflage ghillie,” she said, her voice low, as she threw part of it over my head, then ducked under it also. “Like a poncho. We only have the one—I left the one I had in the park when I spotted you.”

  I realized that she’d placed her head through the opening in the ghillie.

  “Cozy,” I whispered.

  She slipped her head back inside, and what little light came through allowed me to see the outline of her face only six inches away, and I felt her breath on my lips.

  “I think we’re okay for a while,” she said and turned on a small red light. “We should be able to hear Raja’s car when it pulls to the shoulder

  We sat there for some time, listening to the traffic, staring at each other silently. Her soft, large eyes seemed to explore me from the inside. I wondered what kind of a woman she really was, and felt she was wondering the same thing. The poncho provided warmth on the chill night—but there seemed a warmth in the air outside of what could be measured by thermometer. It was pleasant, sensual. We stared at each other, almost unblinking, and for a long moment, I felt as if we made some sort of connection, psychically, as if I could read this woman’s thoughts, or at least her intentions. What I read was complete good will and passion.

  We’d been under the ghillie for probably ten minutes, and I felt as though I we might be transcending into something even deeper mentally, when Sunny broke away and raised her head through the opening.