“Assuming Cotton’s mole can get me near the building without getting me incinerated.”
Grady frowned. “And what about this EM-plasma field?”
“You might have invented the gravity mirror, but I’m well practiced with it. I’m more concerned about Cotton’s mole.”
Cotton was forming a long devil’s beard with the stylus. “Have faith. My mole should be able to get you up to the building. All you have to do is turn their world upside down.”
“I can’t believe I’m taking instructions from someone who’s been caught doing this once before.”
“Live and learn, my dear. Now…” Cotton rummaged around his workstation. “Here…” He tossed her what looked like a one-inch cubic diamond. “Once you get inside and enlist the aid of your ‘friend,’ and you somehow miraculously get past their deadly security measures to the Kratos control station in the heart of the BTC, and then somehow get your biometrics cleared for security access to their most precious asset—”
“This isn’t inspiring confidence.” She studied the crystal.
“After all that, plug that relay q-link into one paired with the satellite. It will transfer control here.” He gestured to the many holographic computer screens floating over his workstation. “Extra points if you can destroy their other q-links. Just keep that control room secure after you do, and I’ll be your overwatch.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “And how do you know how to operate the Kratos satellite?”
“My mole has gotten me access to many things…” Cotton brought up detailed blueprints for the Kratos satellite onto his screens as well.
“My God, we had a serious security problem. How did you get these? How did you fool the AIs?”
Cotton spread his hands. “I’m a thief. It’s what I do.”
Grady examined the drawings. “Then the BTC never had a monopoly on all of this technology. All of this insanity is for nothing?”
Alexa still didn’t look happy. “What other data have you stolen, Cotton? What other plans?”
He laughed. “Now is not the time or place, but I assure you I will share everything I have. I will hold back nothing.”
Alexa didn’t seem to know what else to do, given the situation. She turned to Grady, then grabbed the helmet from the nearby workbench and handed it to him. “I found this scout cover among Cotton’s stolen loot. It’ll give you some head protection if things go wrong. BTC aimbots always go for head shots.”
Grady accepted the helmet. It looked like a matte-black bicycle helmet except that its crystal visor seemed to be made of bulk diamond, which he was starting to become familiar with. It could probably withstand the impact of a .50-caliber bullet—though his brain would still be turned to Jell-O from the impact. He nodded grimly. “Thanks.”
Cotton finished his coiffure. “Well, what do you think?”
They turned to look at him. He now resembled Wyatt Earp. They stood silently.
“That good, eh? Well, to hell with you both. You have no taste.” He tossed the stylus onto the workbench. “Are we ready to do this thing?”
Alexa nodded. “Yes. The sooner we do, the sooner we can end this.” She turned to Grady. “Your destination is programmed into the helmet visor.”
Grady nodded.
“Cotton, how do you know they’ll be watching that geographic location?”
Cotton was busying himself at his workbench. “Because it’s the location my mole reported as Mr. Grady’s last-sighted position. They’ll have sensors on it.”
She turned back to Grady. “The site’s about two hundred miles from Chicago, and about two hundred and fifty miles from Detroit.”
“So even after the alert, it’ll take them hours to get to me.”
She shook her head. “No. Morrison’s assault teams use pressurized diamondoid armor. They don’t stay in the atmosphere. They ascend to about twenty miles into the atmosphere, and then free fall over the landscape from there.”
Grady considered this. “Much thinner atmosphere at that altitude. Makes sense.”
“Right. It means they can reach speeds of eight hundred and forty miles an hour. It’s about a four-minute fall up to their cruising altitude; about seventeen minutes travel time, and then a four-minute fall back down to sea level. So expect them to arrive within thirty minutes of the time they leave BTC headquarters. Stay miles away from your destination until I give you the ready signal.” She examined him. “Are you sure about this, Jon?”
He took a deep breath. “It needs to be done.”
“We could try some other form of diversion.”
“Nothing that’s guaranteed to get them to come in enough force to be of use to you. If they definitely see me, they’ll think you’re not far away.”
“We could have Cotton’s mole make a false sighting in—”
Cotton shook his head. “He’s no longer in a position to help there, I’m afraid—seeing as he lost track of Mr. Grady once already.”
“What if we created a decoy that drew them?”
Grady answered the q-link, “Alexa—anything that fails will only tip them off that you’re coming.”
She pondered it a bit more. “The moment you appear, there’s the possibility that they just zap you dead.”
“I don’t think Hedrick would do that. In any event it’s worth the risk if it provides a distraction at a critical moment.” He gripped her shoulder. “No matter what happens to me, Alexa, promise me you’ll free Archie and the others. You need to get to them before the BTC does; even if you get control of the satellite, they’ll try to hide them somewhere. Don’t let them.”
“We won’t. Don’t worry, we’ll rescue them, and you’ll do it with us.”
“Hate to interrupt the touching moment.” Cotton approached with what appeared to be an autoinjector. He was loading an ampoule into it.
Alexa scowled at him. “What the hell is that?”
“You never asked how the BTC caught me when I tried to break in all those years ago. Kind of hurt you didn’t ask, actually.”
“I assumed you did something stupid.”
“Ah, funny. No, I might not have been caught had I known that they release a neurotoxin into the crawl spaces during high alarms. It makes you panic and run screaming for fresh air—even if that’s over a cliff. The stuff enters through all semipermeable membranes—lungs, skin, eyes.”
“I’ve never heard of this.”
“Have you spent much time crawling through your power conduits during security alarms?”
She just glared.
“This is what I was working on earlier.”
She kept glaring.
“Right. Here then…” He put all the ampoules on the workbench and rolled up his own sleeve. “Pick one, and I’ll inject it into myself. You’ll be coated with neurotoxin when you come back, so we all need to get inoculated, anyway. I don’t need a screaming panic attack, thank you very much—especially with a ten-story drop to the street close at hand.”
Alexa sighed in irritation.
Grady selected the center ampoule.
Alexa grabbed the autoinjector from Cotton, then the ampoule from Grady, and then loaded it.
“My dear, don’t inject angry.”
She jammed the device against his arm. There was a pop and hiss.
“Ow.” He paused for a moment, then grabbed his throat and started choking theatrically. Then he straightened. “Satisfied?” Cotton grabbed the autoinjector back from her. “Who’s next?”
Grady selected one of the two remaining ampoules and extended his arm. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?”