Chapter 8
Lucky
When the fasten-seatbelt light goes off in Grayson’s jet, I pace between the lounge chairs and stretch. I’ve poured through mounds of data yet nothing adds up.
Suds stares into his laptop. Like Frankenstein, long rows of angry stitches lace his forehead and jaw. He’s also got a through and through bullet wound in his waist, wrapped in gauze. I was shocked when I got to the airport and he was there.
Still, it’s better I keep him with me and out of trouble. Slate told me he tried to resign and I feel bad. More than anyone, I know this isn’t my pal’s fault. The people who blew up the restaurant and kidnapped my wife are experts. No one saw this coming. We both missed the signs. It’s going to take him, everyone at Patten, and the AI unit to find and arrest these motherfuckers.
Suds growls, “Sit the fuck down. You’re making dizzy.”
“I can’t. What if something happens to her? She’s my whole fookin’ world.”
“I know and I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head and looks so damn miserable, I wish I’d kept my trap shut.
The time on my cell phone reads 6:00 PM. Bloody hell. If I don’t get a sign of life soon, she’s probably gone.
Suds puts his laptop onto a seat near his leather lounge chair and rises with a deep wince. “Why couldn’t the Jason-application find Callie?”
My hand scrubs across my short beard, then I wander over to the galley to make coffee. “It uses facial-recognition software. They must be taking back roads or have some way to block it.”
He grabs a Patten logo mug and places it on the counter next to mine. “Does it know why these bastards want access to the tunnel?”
“Ask it.” I click on a thirty-two-inch monitor hanging on a side wall and Jason-the-Avatar appears.
He stops typing at his desk and blinks at us with brows raised. “Hello Sebastian.”
My mouth drops open as I turn to my old pal, Suds. “You always said your first name was Steven.”
He shrugs then glares at the screen. “If you tell anyone else, I’ll format your hard drives.”
“Is that a threat or are you being funny?” Jason cocks his head in a way-too-human-like manner.
“Neither. But call me Suds, okay?” My buddy shakes his head back and forth.
“Before I can do that, I need to check with Doctor Jones.”
“Do it.”
“She is laughing. Why is your name funny?”
“Forget it.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot forget anything.”
“Okay, this is fucking creepy.”
Suds grimaces at me while Jason blinks out at the screen, face neutral again. “If I have offended you, I apologize.”
“It’s fine. I’m just having a hard time interacting with you.” Suds lifts his mug and I pour while Jason speaks on.
“Ah yes. I’ve been told I can be difficult. The best thing to do is to ask me direct questions. Let me start. How can I help you?” Avatar eyes blink, blink while Suds thinks.
“Why do you think the terrorists want access to the Blue Plains tunnel?”
“The most likely answer is the tunnel runs near the Capitol Building. It is also an excellent way to push information, prostitutes, or drugs from Southern Washington DC into the central part of the city, nearer the White House. Without more data, I cannot be certain.”
Blink, blink.
