Decker ripped the VR goggles from his face, fell to his knees, and started to scream.
CHAPTER 43
Decker crawled forward. He bellowed like a branded bull until Lulu dashed to his side, pressed his head to her belly.
“Shhhh,” she said. “It’s alright. Don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’m right here. Don’t worry.”
Decker looked up at her, his face lined with horror.
Slowly but surely, the night terror passed, and the feeling of unreasonable fear began to recede. Decker struggled to his feet. He staggered toward the counter, steadied himself and reached for the telephone.
“What are you doing?” cried Lulu.
Decker punched a number. “I’m calling my uncle. He’s staying with Becca in Georgetown.”
Lulu reached out and put her hand on the cradle. “Hold on just a second,” she said.
Decker held the receiver high over his head, ready to strike it down on her face… when he stopped himself. He took another deep breath and lowered the phone. “Stay out of my way,” Decker said.
“I’ll let you make your call,” Lulu said, “if you just give me a moment to play with the phone. I don’t like the idea of us being traced. At least, not until I’ve heard what you saw with those goggles.”
Decker took a step backward. Lulu scrambled around the lab, picking up odds and ends, tools and implements wherever she found them. A few minutes later, she handed the phone back to Decker. “Dial away. Just punch nine and the number.”
Decker took the phone and dialed his uncle’s mobile. It seemed to ring and ring forever when he heard a loud click, and Tom finally came on.
“Hello? Hello,” said Llewellyn. “Hello, who is that?”
“It’s me, Tom.”
“John? John, is that really you? Hello? Answer me!”
“It’s me, Tom.” Decker heard a loud sigh.
“Thank you, Jesus. I thought you were dead. McCullough told me you were shot in some parking lot.”
“He was wrong, obviously.”
“What’s going on, John? They say you’re a traitor, that you’ve been working with Islamist extremists.” Llewellyn laughed grimly. “As if that could ever be true. They don’t know you like I do.”
“How’s Becca?” asked Decker.
“She’s right here. We were reading together. More Harry Potter.”
“May I speak with her?”
“Of course. I’ll put her on speakerphone. If I can find the damned button.”
There was a pause as Llewellyn struggled with his smartphone. Decker closed his eyes. Then he heard the soft tone of his daughter’s voice, and — for a moment — he was convinced he could actually smell her.
“Daddy? Daddy, is that you?”
“I’m here, baby” said Decker. “I’m right here.” A warm wave of indescribable pleasure washed over him. “How’s my little cheetah?”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “But it hurts.”
“I know it does, baby. Lots of booboos.”
“Booboos! They’re burns, Dad. Only babies call them booboos. And I’m not a baby anymore.”
“I know you’re not. You’re a big girl now. And brave.”
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you here?”
Decker closed his eyes. He imagined his daughter in her small plastic tent. He imagined her hands in her lap, so tiny, and her sleepy gray eyes. “Daddy’s trying to find the guys who hurt you,” he said, regretting the words as soon as they’d come out of his mouth.
“I thought they were dead,” she replied. An edge crawled into her voice.
“The ones that hurt you, yes,” Decker said. “But there are other bad guys behind them. Other guys pulling their strings.”
Becca laughed. “Like that cartoon, the one that you like? Where the puppet becomes a real boy?”
“Yes, like Pinocchio.” Decker pressed the earpiece close to his ear. He could barely hear her. “I’ll be home soon, baby. As soon as I can.” He looked at Lulu standing beside him. “I love you, Becca.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
“Put grandpa back on the phone, will you?”
There was a momentary pause as Llewellyn turned off the speakerphone. Then he said, “Don’t worry. She’s fine, John. Healing nicely. But the nurses are threatening to charge Medicare for the bed I’ve been using.” He laughed. “I haven’t left the hospital once since I got here. John? John, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“It better not,” Decker answered. “Or, so help me God, I’ll come after you, Hellard. You too, Rex. I’ll come after you both, and I’ll kill you. Count on it.”
“What? What are you talking about, John?”
“I just wanted you to understand that,” said Decker. “I wanted to be perfectly clear. I expect both of you to protect her.”
There was a click and Rex McCullough suddenly came on the line. “How’s the weather in Kamchatka this time of year?” he inquired.
“Kamchatka?”
“That’s where you seem to be calling from. Tell Lulu she’s outdone herself this time. And congratulations to you too, John. It’s not every day you make it to the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list. You were right about your suspicions, about a mole at the Center. It was you, John. You, the whole fucking time. I feel like an idiot. You’ve been leaking classified intelligence to terrorist organizations for months. And you’ve got forty million dollars in a Cayman bank account to show for it. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is looking for you. But if you turn yourself in—”
Lulu hung up the phone. “Times up,” she said simply.
Decker squeezed the receiver. He squeezed it as hard as he could. Then, with a sigh, he slowly put the phone back on the hook.
“We need to find a place to crash,” Lulu said. “Some place where no one will look for us. We can’t stay with family or friends.”
“How about a hotel?”
Lulu smiled. She plopped herself down by the nearest PC and punched up a browser. Minutes later, she had hacked her way into The Four Seasons reservation system and booked them a suite. “Done,” she said with a grin. “Now, we just have one more thing to do. And it’s not going to be easy.”
“What’s that?” Decker asked.
“Get across town.”
CHAPTER 44
They ended up pinching a few items of clothing from distracted MIT students and heading up Amherst, making a quick left onto Carleton, before turning north for the Kendall Station at Broadway and Main. The place was packed. But that, in the end, proved to be an advantage. It was easier to blend in with the crowd than to try and avoid the ubiquitous surveillance cameras, the Cyclops sentinels that seemed to sprout out of every lamppost and street corner of Cambridge, despite the city’s Public Safety Committee’s rejection of them. So they cast their faces perpetually downward, toward the sidewalk, and both wore headgear that they’d picked up at the Media Center: Lulu, a floppy herringbone newsboy wool hat, with a stiff brim that easily obscured her spiked EMO hair; and Decker, a sea-foam-green baseball-style flex cap, pulled low to his eyes, featuring the Celtics logo — a Leprechaun spinning a basketball on the very tip of his finger.
They bought Charlies and hopped onto the Red Line heading east into town. The car was practically empty and they had no trouble getting seats. Moments later, just as Decker began to relax, the train exploded into daylight and they found themselves hurtling across the Longfellow Bridge. Out the window, Decker could see the entire city splayed out before him, including the John Hancock Tower and the Prudential Center. Far below, someone was sculling the Charles.