We crossed one more garden and passed through an open ornate iron gate at the side of the house. I crept to the front and glanced around the corner. Our route had taken us around the occupied car, now around thirty yards away.
I waved Jack forward and he crept toward an Audi, halfway to our target. He stooped by the driver’s door and glanced over the hood.
Cigarette smoke drifted over on the breeze. The occupant took another drag, illuminating the interior. At this range, it looked like only one person in the car, unless they had a partner having a nap on the back seat.
I moved across to Jack and crouched. “Go for it. They don’t exactly look vigilant to me.”
“You go to the driver’s side; I’ll take the other.”
He darted across the road and crouched by the rear of the vehicle. I edged toward the driver’s door. Ten yards away, an arm flopped out of the window, cupping a cigarette from the rain, and tapped ash to the ground.
Before the smoker could react, I sprinted to the open window and thrust my arms through it, wrapping my hands around the driver’s mouth and windpipe. Jack ripped open the passenger door and held his pistol to the side of the driver’s head.
Two small hands grabbed my left arm and weakly struggled. This person smelled far too sweet to be a man; smoke aside, the long flowing hair and small shoulders were also a giveaway. Her wide eyes shot from side to side, and she tried to suck in through my hand and blew hard out of her nose.
Jack leaned to her right ear. “Scream and I’ll shoot.”
The woman rapidly shook her head and tried to say something.
He pulled an AR-15 from between the two front seats with his left hand. “We’ll be taking this.”
“Are there any other people close by?” I asked.
The woman shook her head and blinked several times.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded rapidly and tried to say something. My hand stifled her response.
“We only want to talk; we’re not here to kill you,” Jack said.
She nodded again, tears, snot, and saliva moistening my hand. I loosened my grip around her throat. “Pass me the Ruger, Jack.”
He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. I opened up the driver’s side, leaned over, and grabbed it from his outstretched hand.
I looked into the woman’s eyes. “I’m letting go of your mouth. Shuffle across.”
She edged between the two seats and balanced in the middle. I wedged myself in, squeezed the door shut, and raised the electric window. I wasn’t a fan of cars that stank of stale smoke, but like most of my previous minor irritations, I didn’t care anymore, and it was preferable to where we’d spent our last few hours.
“I won’t say a word—take the rifle. Please don’t kill me,” she stuttered and wiped her mouth. No doubt to rid herself of the foul taste of death on my hands.
“What are you doing out here?” Jack said.
“Watching our southern flank… The radio on the dash—I’m supposed to use it if I see anything.”
She wore a black jumpsuit, spoke with a southern drawl, had short sandy hair in a side parting, and looked around thirty years old.
“They sent you out on your own?” I asked. “What time’s your change of shift?”
She wiped tears from her eyes and sniffed. “I’m supposed to do a radio check every ten minutes. I’m here for another hour.”
“Radio who—Jerry and Anthony?” Jack snapped.
“They’re as much of a threat to me as you are…”
Jack frowned. “Why are they a threat to you? Do you know how many GA are looking for us?”
She pulled a folded piece of paper towel from her pocket and blew her nose. “They’re both psychos. I’m not sure how many of the local team are here—maybe forty.”
“Were you outside Ron’s house today?” I asked.
“I wasn’t, but Brett was; he’s on the other end of the radio. We won’t say anything.”
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Jack replied. “We’ve seen what you’ve done.”
She shuddered and reached for a packet of cigarettes perched in a cupholder. “I’m not like those guys. We’re all from the Technology Department—not the local one. Let me call in Brett. He’ll tell you.”
“No, you’re not calling anyone or lighting a smoke,” Jack said.
“Not local? Technology Department? What are you talking about?” I said.
“It’s all gone to shit here. The local team is late with the processing. We want to make sure we’re not tied to it all.”
“You’re not making any sense. C’mon, we need more than that…” Jack said.
I felt like we were starting to get under the hood of Genesis Alliance and didn’t want to waste the opportunity. We also had some temporary cover from the rain. The woman glanced at Jack, then me.
“Let me call Brett; he’ll talk to you. He can neutralize you—he’s a good guy.”
“Good guy.” I laughed. “You can’t be serious?”
“He’s a techy geek, like me, not a murderer. Do you think we knew what was going to happen?”
“Yeah, I do. How couldn’t you know?” Jack said.
The only danger nerds had posed to me in the past was the threat of being bored to death. We wouldn’t have a problem getting information and escaping from this scenario.
She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “We were just following orders, working on our own little parts of the design.”
“Whatever,” Jack said. “They said the same at the Nuremburg trials. Was this your version of the final solution?”
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with, trust me. Brett is your best chance to avoid processing; he’ll let you go.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked.
“He’s one of the only ones who suspected what was happening early enough to try and get out. They threatened to kill his wife and kids. He’s only here now to keep them alive. I’ve seen him help others to escape from this.”
Jack snorted. “Sounds like bullshit.”
“Look, just go and I won’t say anything.”
“What happens if we do and the second activation happens?” I said.
“You’ll be processed, and trust me, you two guys don’t want to be processed in Monroe. Brett told me the local guys had some medieval plans for you.”
Jack leaned close to her face. “Like what?”
She wiped more tears from her face with a trembling hand. “None of this is me. I don’t even know how to use a rifle. You can hold me at gunpoint if you want. He won’t do anything.”
Who would offer herself as hostage, unless she was confident of the result? Maybe Brett or another one of the Technology team had the ability of a crack sniper, maybe she thought we would fold against numbers, or maybe she was telling the truth. The chance to find out more and possibly avoid the effects of any future activation proved a tempting offer, but signaling more of their team would be a gamble. I decided to test her confidence in whatever scenario she had in mind.
“What do you reckon, Jack?”
“Sounds like we can drive right out of here, like now.”
“We could always let her get in touch with Brett and tell him to come on his own. Then we take the radio and hide. If she moves, you give her a shower with that AR-15. If Brett brings others, it’s the same treatment. If he comes on his own, unarmed, and can neutralize us—whatever that is—we can talk.”
“You do realize that he’ll be shitting in his own mess tin if he comes on his own and tries anything?” Jack said.
The woman gave Jack a confused look. “He’ll do what?”
“Pissing on his own bonfire, raining on his own parade, cutting off—”
“I get it. Jeez, it’ll be cool.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘cool,’ ” I said. “But I think you get the picture about what’ll happen if things go south?”