They had just finished when Kira emerged with a small stainless steel canister and handed it to Desh. He removed a single pill and gave it to Griffin while Kira took a small glass from a cabinet and filled it with tap water. Griffin took the water from Kira and downed the pill without ceremony.
“When will this take effect?” he asked.
“In about five minutes,” replied Kira.
Desh pulled an MP-5 from the canvas bag and handed it to Metzger. “Take a position in Kira’s bedroom as far from Matt as you can get,” he said, “and cover him.”
Metzger did as instructed, opening the curtain to have a clear view of the entire vehicle, while Desh stacked both canvas bags on the floor in front of the passenger seat and pulled an MP-5 for himself. “Colonel, you’re with me.”
Desh turned the passenger seat around so it faced the road again and knelt on it, extending his head above the high seatback with the machine pistol protruding over it. He insisted that Connelly sit normally in the comfortable driver’s seat, unarmed. The colonel argued that he could carry his own weight and help cover Griffin, but Desh wouldn’t hear of it, reminding him that a rifle shot had recently torn a hole through his shoulder, mere inches away from his heart. “Save your strength, Colonel,” Desh told him. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
Reluctantly, Connelly took the seat as requested.
“Kira, I want you in the bedroom, safely behind the major,” said Desh.
Kira opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. She had been in charge, and alone, for far too long. The reason she had wanted to team up with Desh in the first place was to get help. With a slight smile she realized she should let herself enjoy not making all the decisions for a change. She walked to the back of the RV and for once played the role of the damsel, taking a position behind and to the left of the war-hardened major.
“Major,” Desh called out.
Metzger caught his eye from thirty feet away.
“If he shows any suspicious behavior whatsoever, shoot him in the leg immediately. No hesitation. Don’t forget that he’ll be much faster than we are, mentally and physically.”
Metzger nodded.
The group took consolation from the fact that in addition to being bound, Griffin was slow and untrained, so that even if the transformation tripled his speed they should be able to handle him. Should be. No one was in a hurry to test this theory.
Griffin began navigating the web so he would be poised at the entrance to the NSA’s system when the mental transformation took effect. He didn’t have to wait long. “Holy crap!” he yelled the instant it did. He continued speaking after this but at a rate too fast for the rest of the group to decipher.
Griffin turned back to the keyboard and his fingers flew over it like those of a possessed concert pianist, filling all three monitors with an ever-changing parade of menus, data, and web pages. He had worked too fast for most people to have any hope of following before he was enhanced, but now his speed was off the charts. He continued working at a dizzying pace for twenty minutes while Desh and Metzger kept their weapons carefully trained on him.
“Matt, how is it looking?” said Desh finally. “Can you do it?”
Griffin snapped an unintelligible response.
“We can’t understand you,” said Desh.
“Can’t-operate-at-your-pathetic-speed-so-leave-me-the-hell-alone,” blurted out Griffin harshly, having slowed just enough that Desh could separate the words.
“Divert a portion of your mind to act as a slow version of yourself,” instructed Desh. “Less frustrating speaking with normals that way.”
“Done,” said Griffin.
“How are you feeling?” asked Desh cautiously.
“Idiot question!” snapped Griffin immediately. “What you’re really asking is: have I turned into the devil? If not, I would tell you no. If so, I would lie and still tell you no. Moron!” he finished disdainfully.
It may have been a stupid question, Kira thought, but Griffin’s response had been illuminating nonetheless. “You realize—”
“That I was as pathetic and slow as you are a few minutes ago. Yes, I know.” The blistering pace of Griffin’s keyboard and mouse manipulations didn’t slow as he spoke nor did conversation seem to affect his ability to digest entire screens of information at a glance.
Desh caught Kira’s eye worriedly, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Griffin was also handling the transformation less well than had Kira. Less well, perhaps, even than Desh. So perhaps it was a testosterone effect after all.
The group let Griffin continue working in silence for the next fifteen minutes, not wanting to provoke the demon within. Kira finally decided it was time for a status report. “How is it coming, Matt?” she called from the other end of the vehicle.
Griffin’s hands hadn’t once stopped moving over the keyboard since he had begun. “Child’s play,” he said smugly. “I’ll be in NSA’s personnel database in about ten minutes.” He paused. “Meanwhile,” he announced with a superior air, “I’ve broken into the Federal Reserve and diverted 500 million dollars into your numbered Swiss bank account.”
Kira drew back, stunned.
“Relax,” snapped Griffin, correctly having predicted her reaction despite her being well out of his sight. “It’s a victimless crime. Just numbers in a computer. I didn’t steal anyone’s money, just created 500 million more. And yes, even though it’s a numbered and oh-so-secret Swiss account, I’m sure I put the funds in the correct one.”
“Why, Matt?” said Kira, concerned. “What prompted you to do that?”
“Sadly, I’m forced to live most of my life as a moron,” Griffin shot back. “I’ll soon return to my pathetic former self who will be joining this sanctimonious team of yours. The better capitalized we are, especially in the beginning before invention money pours in, the faster we can achieve our ultimate goals.”
The four other members of the group exchanged meaningful glances and raised eyebrows. Griffin had become ultra-arrogant, certainly, but in his own way he knew that the future of his lesser self was tied to the team, which was at least somewhat comforting.
“You have to reverse this transaction, Matt,” said Kira softly. “It’s not right.”
“Don’t preach to me!” barked Griffin. “Spare me your brainless and misguided moralizing. A sum this great will help our cause, and you know it.”
“But—”
“This discussion is over!” thundered Griffin.
Kira sighed deeply and decided not to push it further. The truth was that he was right. It was a victimless crime and would help them accomplish a greater good. She was certainly no stranger to these hard choices. She had broken the law to develop her treatment. She had killed Lusetti and she had injured several others to avoid capture. That night alone she had been involved in the theft of two cars and a misappropriation of a military helicopter.
But this was while she was her normal self. Those experiencing the mind altering effects of her treatment wielded too much power, and had too little conscience, to be allowed even the smallest step onto this slippery slope. The team would need to make sure that in the future those they enhanced had no ability to directly affect the outside world while still in the thrall of the transformation.
“I’m in,” announced Griffin. “Quickly, describe Sam.”
“Well,” began Desh, “His height is about—”
“Too slow,” barked Griffin. “I’ll find him without you.” There was the briefest of pauses and then, “This is him, correct?”
A headshot security photo of a man filled an entire screen. For the first time since Griffin had become transformed he left something on a monitor for more than a few seconds.