“That’s quite an advancement. The system’s designed to be perpetually active — as long as the blood´s flowing, that is — although the display can be turned on and off by pushing a small dot on the skin. Like a mole or a beauty mark. When your blood sugar levels are off, the system issues a warning. When the phone rings, you just press your forearm and presto — a video of the caller appears. It’s your doctor or nurse telling you to lay off those donuts. Same tech would support video feeds and…” Lulu looked over at Decker. He was looking down at his shirtsleeve. It was soaked through with blood. “Oh, my God,” she continued. “I’m sorry, I guess I… Here, let me help you.” She leapt to her feet, began to peel back his sleeve.
The cut ran the length of his forearm. Decker had bandaged it off with a piece of torn shirt but the wound had seeped through.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “Wait here.” She started moving away but he held her back by the elbow. “I have a First Aid kit in the kitchen,” she insisted.
“Why don’t we fetch it together?”
A few minutes later, they were back in her workroom. They sat side by side on the sofa as Lulu re-bandaged his wound. Her movements were precise, economical. It was obvious she had done this before.
“Is it hot in here,” Decker asked, “or am I getting a fever?” Beads of sweat dotted his brow. It felt like a hundred degrees.
“No, you’re right. It is hot. I’ll turn down the thermostat.” With a flourish, Lulu finished tying off his new bandage. “There you are. Good as new.” She paused. “Special Agent Decker? John?”
He was staring behind her.
“What is it?” she asked him, turning around. “What’s wrong?”
“Why is your webcam light on?”
CHAPTER 25
The camera light on Lulu’s Alienware laptop was glowing bright red, like a cigarette tip in the dark.
“Who did you call?” Decker said, pushing himself to his feet. He moved toward the laptop.
“I didn’t call anyone. How could I? You’ve been with me the whole…”
Lulu watched helplessly as Decker picked up the laptop, lifted it high in the air, and then threw it down to the ground with a frightening crash.
The hard casing shattered. Pieces of plastic flew off like shrapnel.
“…time,” Lulu concluded.
She walked over to the cracked shell of her laptop, knelt down and peeled open the lid. The screen was dark, a spider web of shattered plastic.
“You could have just turned it off, you know. There’s a little switch. Right here. On the side. See?” Lulu flipped the machine over and there was a metallic clink as pieces inside moved about. “Seven thousand dollars.” She looked up at Decker. “You’re lucky I’m insured.”
“Who was watching us through your webcam? Who did you call?” he repeated.
“I didn’t call anyone.” Lulu stood up and faced him. “Perhaps, if you hadn’t destroyed it, I might have uncovered the remote-access Trojan and figured out who was watching us.”
Decker grabbed her by the arms. He started to shake her. “Who are you working for? Answer me! Is it the same person who’s behind the man with the scar, the assassin from Dandong? Is that why you sent me to China?”
“What are you talking about? I never sent you anywhere. You’re the one who FTPd me that Crimson Scimitar hard drive and asked me to look into it. I thought it linked bank to Dandong. But I never told you to go there. Or to blow up the Shanghai hotel.”
“I didn’t blow up the goddam hotel. I keep telling everyone. The assassin did. The man who tried to kill me this morning. The guy who shot H2O2.”
“You mean the same guy who took out Unit 110 in Dandong also killed H2O2, and then tried to kill you?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s too hot to think. Can’t you turn down the heat? Jesus Christ! It’s like a fucking sauna in here.”
Just then the lights dimmed and there was a small ping as the microwave oven came on. They both turned toward the main room. The lights flashed again as Decker dashed toward the curtained partition. Every device in the loft seemed to have switched on automatically.
The sound system blared. Have a holly, jolly Christmas. The blender and food processor whirred. It’s the best time of the year. The garbage disposal coughed and churned, coughed and churned as the lights on the Christmas tree started exploding like firecrackers. I don’t know if there’ll be snow, but have a cup of cheer… They watched helplessly as the toaster glowed red, overheated and suddenly burst into flames. Fire licked at the cabinet, found the tip of a dish cloth and started to climb up the wall.
They both ran toward the kitchen. As Decker passed the nativity scene, the blue bulb in the manger popped like a shot. A spark set the hay in the stable on fire. Barbie’s hair caught ablaze, Ken fell between the donkey and oxen, started melting, just as the troll doll of the Christ child caught fire.
Decker picked up the floor mat by the kitchen sink and began to flail at the nativity scene. Lulu grabbed a fire extinguisher from a wall rack nearby. As she sprayed bursts of suppressant at the foot of the flames, sparks leapt from the wall sockets. The lights glowed again and went out. It was suddenly eerily silent. The music had stopped. So had all the appliances. There was only the noise of the fire extinguisher as Lulu finished spraying the last of the flames.
It was pitch black now, save for the warm red and green glimmer of Christmas lights bleeding in through the window at the far end of the loft.
Decker and Lulu groped their way toward the balcony. Smoke filled the air and they were both coughing by the time they’d made it outside.
It was bitterly cold.
Perhaps it was the smoke which still stung their eyes, or the adrenaline that pumped through their veins, but neither of them heard the soft shuffle of movement right at their feet. Nor did they notice — as Lulu moved toward the railing, as she took a step back — the lumbering gait of her Dino-Bot… until it was simply too late.
Lulu tripped on the dinosaur. She teetered and fell. She reached out for the railing but missed, and then slipped with a startled scream over the edge.
CHAPTER 26
Decker reached out and grabbed her as Lulu slipped over the edge, swinging her back onto the balcony at the very last moment.
The Dino-Bot roared. It opened its mouth and moved a step closer.
Decker set Lulu aside and stomped on the toy dinosaur with the heel of his boot. The Dino-Bot tried to get up. It lurched to its feet as Decker stomped on it, again and again and again, until the robot was a mass of broken circuits and green plastic skin, and its red eyes had dimmed.
Lulu looked down at what was left of her dinosaur. “Dino,” she said. She began to lean forward, her hand reaching out for the Dino-Bot, when she suddenly straightened. She flew back to the railing.
It was as if she’d been stung or shocked by a taser.
She pulled out her iPhone. It was vibrating in her hand with the anxious stutter of insect wings. Lulu stared down at the device as if she had never seen a smartphone before. Then she looked back at Decker and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she began.
“May I speak to John Decker, please?” It was a man’s voice.
“It’s for you,” she mouthed quietly.
Decker shook his head, whispering back, “I’m not here.”
“He’s not here,” she replied. “Who is this?”