So, we’re heading to Louisville, Jarrod thought. He overheard Ventura’s information. I’ve got to get this to Sarah.
“So tell me, Chief,” Jarrod said, deciding to confront Kilmer again. “What happens after you complete the next objective? Do you let us go or is our fate already a foregone conclusion? Because, I’ve been thinking…I don’t see any way out of this. You’re going to kill us no matter what. There’s no upside,” he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“What’s yer point, Doc?”
“My point is, unless you give me assurance that Jeremiah and Sela will be released, I’m done cooperating…forced, though it may be.”
“No shit, really? That’s the best ya got? Can it, Professor.”
“It’s no idle threat. You geniuses still haven’t figured out I’m the only one capable of running that machine. While Mills is technically proficient, he still can’t factor the electrical throughput without my laptop. And I’ve fixed it so I’m the only one that knows how to interface the codes. If done improperly, it shuts down permanently. Does that sound like bullshit?” he asked, looking inscrutable but with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Listen up ya fuckin’ wanker,” Kilmer responded, beginning to lose his temper. “Yer pissin’ me off with this fart-arsin’ around. Ya’ll do what I tell ya…when I tell ya…or I’ll blow Junior’s head off just to prove my point. Howzat?”
“Calm down, Chief,” Jarrod replied, pleased to see he was getting under Kilmer’s skin. The strain was beginning to show on the man. He just needed to push a little harder.
“I’ll tell you a little secret: If I don’t cycle the program in my laptop every twenty-four hours, it goes into a permanent hibernation state that can only be unlocked at my work station in Stanford. I’ve got more tricks than a rodeo clown,” he said, dangling fresh bait for Kilmer to swallow.
“Yer a snag short of a barbie, ya dudder.”
“Whatever that means…but hey, get my laptop. It’s easy enough to prove. After it starts up, an icon will appear giving the user twenty seconds to enter the password or it permanently shuts down. If I’m lying…it keeps running. If I’m not…you better hand it over or your whole operation is dead in the water,” he said, casting enough doubt in Kilmer’s mind that he could see the consternation spreading across his face.
“Good oh, wise-arse, I’ll call yer bluff…prove yer point,” Kilmer said, reaching over to cut the snap tie holding Jarrod fast to a railing over the bed.
Jarrod approached the central area of the bus that contained a dining table that now doubled as a work station. He opened his Dell laptop and pressed the start button. The computer went through its usual initiation sequence before a pleasant female voice addressed Jarrod: “Good evening, Professor Conrad. You’re late for the authentication procedure. You have twenty seconds to enter your pass code.”
“So, explain to me again your rationale for not needing my cooperation,” Jarrod said arrogantly when the computer began counting down.
“Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen…” droned the monotone female voice.
“What the fuck ya doin’, Professor?” demanded Kilmer, realizing he’d been set up and walked right into Jarrod’s trap.
“Just proving my point…you’re not in charge of shit, Mr. Leader.”
“Twelve, eleven, ten…” counted down the computer.
“Enough already…ya made yer point… enter the code word, ” Kilmer yelled, beginning to panic.
“Who’s in charge?” Jarrod calmly asked, holding a steady gaze as Kilmer twisted. The computer continued to click off the seconds.
“Seven, six, five…”
“ Yer in charge, goddamnit! Enter the fuckin’ password!” Kilmer yelled, totally exasperated.
“Three, two…” the computer counted down as Jarrod calmly entered his secret password to avert the shutdown.
“Thank you, Professor. You may now cycle the program. Have a pleasant evening,” the computer voice concluded.
“Well, I’ll be damned…you finally see who has the real authority here,” Jarrod said. “Try not to forget my little demonstration,” he added dryly, as his fingers flew over the keyboard, executing a series of functions to make it look like he was actually performing something mandatory on the computer.
But Jarrod was actually inside the programmer functions of the Microsoft software and he entered one word: Louisville. He presumed this was where they were heading. He flagged the message and placed a command for the computer to repeatedly send it to Sarah’s email address every thirty minutes. The computer would stay in a low power state and wake itself every thirty minutes, searching for a Wi-Fi connection. It would continually resend the message until Sarah replied.
“Ya fuckin’ bludger, have ya gone round the bend?” Kilmer snarled grabbing a handful of Jarrod’s hair and forcing his head back against the wall. He was incensed he’d been duped by the insufferable know-it-all. “I swear on my mother’s eyes that if ya ever pull ‘nother stunt like that ya’ll be missing body parts. Do not fuck with me!”
“Whatever yo…you…say,” Jarrod replied in pain, grabbing for Kilmer’s hand to release his hold. “But just remember who’s in charge. If I don’t see proof that Sela and Jeremiah are safe, I’ll make the goddamned machine implode the next time we start it up.” He successfully pulled free of Kilmer’s grasp, looking stonily at his enemy. “And don’t you dare question my resolve, you son-of-a-bitch. I’ve got an equation for everything. It would take Mills six months to discover all the hidden pathways in my programs. Who’s in charge, Mr. Leader?” he mocked again.
Kilmer sprang into action. He moved to the bedroom where Jeremiah was being held and cut through his handcuff. He pulled him to his feet and dragged him back to the dining area, where Jarrod was still sitting.
“I’ll show ya who’s in charge,” Kilmer replied. He was holding Jeremiah by the collar of his shirt; the other hand pointed a gun at the back of his head. “No more hagglin’ Professor. Ya cause any more trouble and ya’ll sign his death warrant. Who’s in charge, Professor?” he yelled.
“Let’s just calm down…”
“ Who’s in charge, goddamnit?” Kilmer yelled, following the question this time with a blow to the side of Jeremiah’s head that caused his knees to buckle. Jarrod could see a trickle of blood beginning to drip down Jer’s ear; a dazed look was on his face.
“Jesus Christ, enough! Alright… you’re in charge…you made your point. Just leave Jeremiah out of this. It’s me you’re angry with… don’t take it out on him.”
“I swear to ya, Professor…the next time we square off, his parents won’t recognize him,” he hissed, releasing Jeremiah, who slumped into the seat next to Jarrod. “If ya squib out even a second the next time we need ya, I’ll carve on him to where a team of doctors couldn’t patch ‘im up,” he screamed, walking toward the front of the bus.
Ventura was just pulling into the truck stop and advanced to one of the forward service bays. Jarrod looked at Jer’s head, which was bleeding profusely, but his cursory examination determined it probably didn’t require stitches.
“Sorry about that,” he whispered to Jer, “but I was able to get a message out to your mom. If this place has Wi-Fi, the computer will send the message automatically, but I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he added, wiping the blood off Jer’s face.
“It’s okay,” Jer whispered back. “Do what you have to do, Uncle Jarrod. I’m not afraid of these guys. Where are we?”
“Shhh…not now. I think we’re going to Louisville. That’s the message to your mom. You just hang in there and do what they tell you, understand?”
“Okay, Uncle Jarrod, but if it comes to a fight, you can count on me,” Jer said with conviction.
“Oh, believe me, it’s coming down to a fight, Jer. But hopefully Ryan will arrive with reinforcements and together we’ll kick these guys’ asses,” he said with false bravado.
Damn, I hope I’m right. Jarrod though. If I know Ryan, he’ll be ready to rip somebody’s head off. Trouble is…these guys are out of our league. Come on, Ryan…save my life.