“Then Nathan is a fool. You could have been lobotomized.”
He glanced over at the concerned face of his friend. “That’s where I was headed,” he said softly. “As it is, I’m only buying time. Assuming it works.”
Hobert glared at him, then nodded his head. “Assuming it works. The diagnostics appear normal. I know you’re eager—”
“Not eager,” Smith said. “My choices are limited.”
“Well, he’s ready to activate the probes. Are you sure about this?”
He nodded grimly. “I have work to do. You know what’s at stake.”
“I know that Eric is an excellent replacement. I know that Nancy isn’t as… damaged… as I first believed. I know the Office will continue without you. Or, me, for that matter.”
He stood on shaky legs. “Damn it, Hob, I have to fix things with Alexandra.”
His friend rolled his eyes. “It’s impossible, Fulton. Not with the time you have left, or even with the extra time this device may possibly give you.”
“I can’t believe that,” he said. “I refuse to believe that. If I can bring Alexandra home, then perhaps Nancy will finally feel… whole.”
Hobert sighed in frustration. “You don’t even know where Alexandra is. That was part of the arrangement. You don’t even have a way to contact her.”
“There’s an upcoming dead drop. I could message her. If I can just make Vasilii see reason—”
“Vasilii,” Hobert said, “isn’t the problem. Even if you could get him to agree, the men he works for would never allow it.”
Smith wanted to shout at his friend, but he knew Hobert was only acting as the voice of reason. Numerous discussions with Hobert had not brought him any closer to a solution. “I would say it’s not fair, but you know that. If I have any time left, I must make it right.”
Hobert slumped back in his chair. “I don’t know how you hope to pull it off, but I hope you can. I’ll do anything to help, obviously.”
Smith put his hand on Hobert’s shoulder. “Take me to Nathan.” He tapped the small incision on the back of his neck. “It’s time to activate this thing.”
“You’re sure?” Elliot asked.
Smith nodded. “Yes, Nathan.”
They were in another lab, a small room with slate gray walls not far from the operating room, and Smith was stretched out on a hospital bed in case he suffered from seizures. Doctor Elliot held a tablet computer, watching it intently.
“Nathan?” Doctor Oshensker asked. “He’s ready.”
Elliot nodded. “You shouldn’t feel anything. The amount of current being applied to the cortex is tiny, but just in case, prepare yourself.”
Hobert sat on a tall stool, watching over the preparation. “Last chance to back out.”
He heard the concern in Hobert’s voice, the apprehension in Elliot’s, and knew they were concerned for him. And, fearful. “For better or worse, I’m ready.”
Elliot cleared his throat. “Applying charge.”
He steeled himself, hopeful the implant would work, but terrified he might suddenly have a seizure that would send him crashing to the hard tile floor. He caught his breath, but after several seconds, exhaled. He felt no discernible change. “Is that it?”
“Charge is applied,” Oshensker confirmed.
Elliot turned to the display on the wall. “Telemetry shows the device is working correctly. I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Answer as quickly as you can.”
They spent ten minutes going over questions designed to gauge his memory retrieval until Elliot finally raised his hand. “Stop. You’re reaction time hasn’t worsened.”
He stared up at the acoustic ceiling tiles. For a moment, he felt a burning in his eyes, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. Are those the start of tears? “I was hoping for something… more.”
“It’s a slow process,” Elliot said. “If it improves, and that’s an if, it will take weeks before your reaction time decreases.”
He considered that. “What if it doesn’t improve?”
Elliot exhaled slowly. “Then we’ve done all we can.”
He didn’t blame Elliot. The brain-stimulator was a last-ditch effort and Elliot was right… it would take time to see if there were results. “May I sit up?”
Elliot nodded and Smith sat up, then turned to Hobert. “Time to get back to work.”
“You really should rest,” Oshensker said.
Smith glanced between the two men. “Is there any reason I need to stay here?”
Hobert said, “Well—”
“Not really,” Elliot said. “Just don’t engage in any heavy physical activity, and if you start feeling faint, sit down and call us.”
He stood on his tired old legs and folded his suit jacket over his arm, then bowed his head. “Gentleman, you have my gratitude.”
Their flight had taken most of the day and night before they reached Seoul, rented a car, and reached their destination. John craned his neck to catch a good view of the darkened building in the center of the city, just south of the river. Karen Kryzowski had identified their target, a company called C-Tech, and records placed it on the eight floor.
He tried the door but found it locked. A security guard, a young Korean man in a dark blue uniform, approached them and said something in a sharp voice. Nancy nodded and answered in Korean. She removed a wallet from her purse and quickly slipped the guard a stack of cash. The guard eyed them suspiciously, then nodded and unlocked the door for them.
They entered the darkened reception area and made their way to the bank of elevators. As the elevator rose, John turned to Nancy. “You think we have to worry about the guard?”
She shook her head. “No. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”
“How do you know?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can tell.”
He shrugged, still grinning. He was just glad to be away from the base, even if it meant leaving Kara behind. Their relationship had moved slowly, but she seemed happy taking it to a new level.
He was still confused. He wished for the millionth time he could tell her the memory overlay hadn’t held, and that he remembered bombing the Red Cross.
Then, he remembered she was a soldier first. It would only take a few words from her to Doctor Elliot or even Doctor Barnwell, and then Eric would have to put a bullet in the back of his head.
As the elevator continued to rise, he wondered if Eric would feel bad when he pulled the trigger. Eric claimed to be his friend, and did watch out for him. He wasn’t so naive to think that Eric only protected him from friendship. He represented a significant investment for the OTM, not to mention the potential use of the StrikeForce tech.
No, Eric might like him, but he was a beta test, their first attempt. Their guinea pig. A convenient way to test their technology.
The elevator slowed and the doors opened upon the eighth floor. They stepped out into a dark hallway. John pointed to the directory listing across from the elevator. The names were listed in Korean and English, and their target, C-Tec, was among the floor’s occupants. “Looks like it’s that way,” he said, pointing to the right.
They walked down the darkened hallway, passing doors with brightly-colored logos, until reaching the plain wooden door with the C-Tec logo in black lettering. Except for them, the hallway was empty. He turned to Nancy. “Well?”
Nancy opened her handbag and withdrew a device the size of a cellphone. She turned it on, swept it back and forth. “No heat signatures. The office is empty.”