Killswitch (10 page)

He lifted her chin and brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You thought what?”

“I was already working on the programs for the underground. And I thought if I hid them in your processors—in the exoself—that you'd come after me.”

“Then the dreams, the overwhelming urge to get here, was all part of the program?”

“No. Boss, I told you when you first arrived that I didn't program you to want this. I just wanted you to know where I was. I wanted you to come looking for me if I disappeared.” She folded her arms. “I said it was for the good of the underground, but I did it for selfish reasons.”

He put his arms around her. “So, you
do
have a selfish bone in your body.”

“Do you hate me?”

He laughed. “Do you hate
me
for wishing deep down inside that we were back in my dressing room sipping coffee and making fun of the queen and getting to know each other in the real world?”

“I've never heard you call Kerstin the queen.” Mel grinned. “Everybody else did.”

“I thought it plenty of times.”

“If you hadn't been…changed, would you still be with her?”

“No. I was falling for someone else. You knew that, didn't you?”

“You're a good man to send her to Fiender for a kidney, after all that she did to you.”

“I don't know about that. I think I should have just dropped her when she slipped off the top of that skyscraper.”

Mel pulled back, her brown eyes growing huge. “What? Oh, boss, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Answer my question.” He pulled her close.

“What question?” She relaxed into his arms.

“Did you know I was falling for you? Back in Chicago when we were just a gameshow host and his trusty assistant?” He reached for her soft hair and twisted a curl around his finger.

“Oh.” She drew her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I had a feeling.”

The door they'd left ajar swung open. Chase's mother cleared her throat. “I'm sorry.” She nearly smiled, but a grim expression overtook her. “Son, I think they need you in the command center.”

Chase let his arms fall to his sides. “What's going on, Mom?”

“The dissenters bombed that WR base.”

“I couldn't stop that from happening, even if Amos did want to spare lives.”

“The problem is the dissenters are not the ones being blamed for the act.”

“Then who?” Chase asked. But he already knew. Data streamed in. “Stupid question.”

“We are,” Mel said. “Am I right?”

17

Chase led the way to the command center. His mother and Mel followed at his heels. Amos sat a computer station, his face red with anger.

“Look at this,” he shouted. “The news is reporting that the Underground Church, the very dangerous and violent militants who tried but failed to convert the world, have bombed a military base and killed hundreds of innocent soldiers and their families.”

“I know,” Chase said. “But it's not true.” He sat next to Amos and sent a report from the exoself to the computer screen. “I've got intel on the base. It was evacuated prior to the blast. Apparently, my interference with WR systems yesterday alerted them to the dissenters' plans to bomb the place. They got their soldiers out—all twenty-nine of them. Family housing didn't exist there. It was two buildings. The onsite soldiers were doing nothing but inspecting and issuing personal flight packs.” Chase tapped the screen and then put his hand on Amos's knee. “Nobody died. Not one person.”

“It's a smear campaign,” Switchblade said.

Chase turned in the seat to find Switchblade in the gathering crowd. “Looks that way.”

“Well,” Amos said, seemingly over the rage he'd shown only a moment ago. “We've been maligned. Let us rejoice in persecution.”

“Rejoice?” Chase asked. “How about retaliate? How about we get the word out that the Underground Church isn't made up of terrorists? Are you going to let them get away with this?”

“The Feds used the actions of one group to cast a shadow on another group. We don't have to worry. God will work it out. The dissenters will probably take the focus off us. You know why? Because they'll
want
the credit.”

“But…” There was no point in arguing. All this God talk wasn't getting any less confusing. “Vengeance is mine and all that, right?”

“So, you do know a little of the scriptures.” Amos put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his face.

“My dad used to say it to me when I wanted to get back at somebody. He didn't tell me it was from the Bible. I thought it was just something people like my dad said to keep their sons out of fights. But I think he knew more about the Bible than he let on. We just didn't talk about it.” Chase glanced at his mother.

She shook her head then turned away and left the command center.

“The book of Romans. Don't avenge yourselves—let God's wrath take care of it,” Amos said. “I'm paraphrasing.”

“I wouldn't know the difference,” Chase said. “And I don't get it, so don't waste your time trying to explain it.”

Amos gave him a solemn stare, and for the second time in less than a minute, Chase wanted to take back his words. “But I like the Psalms,” he said. “I read a lot of them when I was uncovering Mel's code. They made me feel—I don't know—rested. I loved listening to the leader in Atlanta read them.”

The tension released, and Amos nodded.

Chase breathed a sigh. He wasn't just trying to make up for his stupid remark—he
had
enjoyed the Psalms. He'd find a Bible later and read them again, this time without an agenda, without looking for secret computer code. More than anything, he needed to rest his mind right now.

He pulled up news reports and discovered the bad press against the underground believers wasn't limited to the one incident. The Los Angeles branch had been flushed out, their hideout in an abandoned warehouse district burned to the ground. Chase coded the four
S
's and in no time found a leader in California reaching out for help.

“I'm sending instructions to someone called Watchman,” Chase said. “His group was discovered and they had to evacuate their hiding place. There's an old mansion in Hollywood. The owner is listed in the system as a sympathizer. The believers can take shelter there.”

“How many are there?” Mel asked. “Were any of them caught when the Feds raided the place?”

“Seventy-two. They all escaped before the Feds torched the place. They got a warning,” Chase answered.

“What kind of warning?” Amos asked. “Who sent it?”

Chase stood and took a few steps, shaking his head. He spun around. “I did. I think.”

“You mean the exoself, don't you?” Fear lit Mel's eyes. “Boss, this is unbelievable. How can you send out a warning without knowing it?”

“You tell
me
.”

More Christians still functioning in society had been arrested and detained. Chase had their locations—he knew which detention centers had them.

“I can't help the ones being detained,” he said. “How many times can I attach a bogus release code to a name? The Feds won't believe it.” He pictured the machine that brought a bloodless death. Intel didn't report the device had been used.

Why did the WR want to use that thing, as opposed to some other method? Obviously, it was clean. No mess, no handling blood. Efficient. But there had to be more. Chase went deeper into WR data.

“They're going to use the brain tissue,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Amos asked. “Are they killing our people?”

“I don't see any indication of it. Never mind. We'll talk about it later.”

Amos didn't ask any more questions but went back to his screen, reviewing data as Chase sent it to him. The group in L.A. was already on the move, headed for the mansion of a former film star.

“More believers will go under with all these arrests,” Chase said. “How many more can we house?”

“We're filled to capacity,” Amos answered. “But there is another place a hundred miles from here. Well, you know that, don't you?”

“I've already sent word to up-top supporters' computer systems to direct people to an abandoned schoolhouse in Gagnon. I've got transports headed to five locations to pick up twenty-two people.”

Amos's brows shot up. “I didn't know there were that many believers left in this part Quebec. That's wonderful, Chase.”

“There's one who's close by, and she's in danger. She sent out an SOS. And I owe her, Amos. I think we should bring her in.”

“Of course, Chase. We'll make room. Who is she?”

“Windsong.”

“The pilot who got you to New York?” Mel asked.

“Oh, dear,” Amos said. “It'll be a loss to the organization to have a pilot come underground. Soon we may not have any help left up top. Get a message to her to come to the back door—the one you first entered. Teach her the knock. Someone will meet her.”

“Will do. Thank you, Amos.” Chase sent word to Windsong's illegal and untraceable system and she quickly responded with gratitude. But she couldn't wait until nightfall to sneak into town. She hoped she could get to the museum without being detected. If not, she wouldn't come near the place.

Chase had already checked surveillance and didn't see any reason she shouldn't make her way to the museum. Intel reported the Feds thought they'd cleaned out the Christian element in Herouxville and they'd moved on. A plane had been confiscated at an airfield forty miles to the south after information was passed to the Feds that the pilot was transporting supplies for the underground. That explained why Windsong was on the run. But who leaked the info?

“Nice alias,” Switchblade said. “Sounds free as a bird. Too bad she's gotta come under. But maybe the two of you will enjoy each other's company, Charlie. What's she like?”

Chase turned to find Switchblade sitting as close to Mel as he could get, his arm across the back of her chair. The guy wasn't giving up.

“She's talented,” Chase said. “In the sense that she'll add a lot to the underground. She knows how the WR functions, what they're looking for. But you're right—it'll be a big change for her. She's used to flying. Now she'll be—”

“Surviving like the rest of us tunnel rats,” Switchblade said.

“She'll have to bunk with someone,” Amos said.

“She can stay with me,” Mel said. “The room's small but there's an extra mattress under my bed. I don't mind pulling it out and sleeping on the floor.”

“Thank you, Melody,” Amos said.

“Tell me about her, boss. Is she as pretty as her name?”

Chase kept his eyes on the screen. “Huh?”

“She asked if the girl is pretty, Charlie. So, is she?” Switchblade let out a snort.

“When I was running for my life, I didn't take the time to notice,” Chase said. He glared at Switchblade. “So you'll have to decide for yourself, Switch. I hope you like her.” He smiled. “Why don't you go up and wait for her. She should be here within the hour.”

The big man rolled his eyes as he headed for the door. “I'll tell her how excited you are to see her again.” He laughed as he swung open the door and went up the stairs.

“What on earth? Boss, what's up with you two?” Mel asked.

“Nothing. I just think the guy needs to find himself a girlfriend. That's all.”

18

Chase and Mel remained at the computer station to await Switchblade's return. Amos had gone to his room to rest. Did the man sense the cancer overtaking him?

Before long, the door that led upward swung open and Windsong stepped into Blue Sky Field. Switchblade followed a good distance behind her. The woman's tangled blond hair fell across her the shoulders of her soiled blue uniform.

“Hey, my favorite gameshow host.” She greeted Chase with a quick hug. “Thanks for taking me in.”

She smelled like the back corner of a barn. “I guess you got my message about the transport taking livestock north,” Chase said.

She laughed. “How can you tell? Look, we have a lot to talk about, but could I get a shower and some clean clothes first?”

“I'll show you the way,” Mel said. “You're going to bunk with me.” She held out her hand. “Melody Reese.”

Windsong shook her hand and the two headed toward the dorms. Switchblade dropped to a chair and scraped it across the floor as he pulled up to the work station.

Chase sat beside him. “Was she sure nobody followed her?”

“Couple of little goats was tagging along.”

“This is serious, man.”

“Nobody knows she's here. Old farmer just wanted to get his produce to the slaughter house. He dropped her off on the highway.”

“I'm guessing she rode in the back with the animals.” Chase smiled.

“Almost didn't let her in when I caught a whiff. But the mess didn't hurt her none—she's a good-looking woman.” Switchblade nudged Chase with his elbow. “Ain't she, Charlie?”

“Not interested, Switch. You go for it.”

The big man grumbled and then laughed under his breath.

Amos returned from his rest and got an update on the new arrival and on what was happening with believers across the continent.

“Four branches of the underground have been forced to relocate today,” Chase told him. “Intel shows fifty-seven supporters were detained. But it looks like the day will end with almost everyone seeking asylum being taken in without incident.”

“So, we lost four of our bases,” Amos said. “And so many of those who helped us up top.”

“The Feds are coming at us,” Switchblade said. “Why?” He gawked at Chase as if he knew the answer.

Chase couldn't argue. “I will go whenever you tell me to, Amos. You know they're looking for me.”