Post by Admin on Dec 8, 2013 20:32:47 GMT
"Good day." Echo said.
Sierra smiled and padded across the lunch area to Echo's table, tray in hand.
"I wasn't certain where to sit." Sierra said, slipping into the other seat. They ate in silence for a moment.
"I swam thirty laps today." Echo said.
"Good for you." Sierra said, smiling.
"I'm tired now."
"It's important to exercise. I try to be my best."
More silence.
"Are you?"
"Excuse me?" Sierra said.
"Are you your best?"
"I'm... not sure how to know that."
"I think if you always try, that's best. Right?"
She turned to Victor, who was sitting in the third seat, for an opinion.
"Every day is a chance to be better." he offered.
Sierra smiled and continued eating. Echo didn't.
*
"They're eating lunch." Boyd agreed.
"They're eating lunch together, man friend." Topher said, pointing at the lunch area from his office window. "Same three. Even the same table. They're grouping."
"Are you saying they remember each other?"
"No, no, no, no! NO. The wipes are clean. This goes deeper than memory into instinctual survival patterns. Flocking. Whole mess of sparrows turning on a dime. Uh, salmon trucking upstream. This isn't a book club, man friend. This is the herd."
"They're not bison, Topher."
Tooher shrugged. "They're a little bit bison."
"Well, they didn't used to be."
"They volunteered for this." Topher pointed out.
"So we're told. The Powers That Be could be making it up. We don't know the 'people' down there. They're programmed."
Topher smiled. "That tie keep you warm?"
"What? No."
"No: it's what grown up men do in our culture. They put a piece of cloth around their necks so they can assert their status and recognise each other as non-threatening kindred. You wear the tie because it never occurred to you not to. You eat eggs every morning but never at night. You feel excitement and companionship when rich men you've never met put a ball through a net or over a goal line, you feel guilty and a little suspicious every time you see a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell, you look down for at least half a second if a woman leans forward and your stomach rumbles every time you drive by a big golden arch even if you weren't hungry before. Everybody's programmed, Man Friend."
"Don't call me that."
"We're not friends?"
Boyd looked to the window. At the mindless herd below.
"We're not men."
*
"The problem is not insurmountable." Adelle told Mr. Diakos.
"What problem?" he asked, in that thick accent of his she couldn't place.
"Upon review, your engagement was flagged as having certain special requirements."
"Before, you tell me no one gets to know what I'm asking for."
"That's correct." she agreed. "However, our computers do calculate possible risks to our Actives."
"But you... you don't know--"
"No one knows the details of your engagements but you."
She was interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing.
"Excuse me, I'm very sorry..."
She strode to her desk and picked up the receiver. "DeWitt. Yes, sir, of course I understand your concern. Our main goal now is to conclude this matter as quickly as possible..."
She eyed the file marked "Anton Lubov: Victor" on her desk. A picture of Paul Ballard poked out of the side. She pushed it back in. "Yes, the less time we give him to spin his own theories, the better, I think. Well, he needs closure. And we are the experts at giving people what they need, aren't we? Yes, sir, I'll keep you in... formed. Goodbye." she put the phone back down and turned to Mr. Diakos. "I didn't offer you a drink. Tea or something stronger?"
"These computers, they say I have to pay more, I pay more." he said, somewhat desperately.
"You're very understanding, Mr. Diakos. This way, please. Judith will handle the details."
She followed him to the door and opened it for him. He paused in the doorframe. "It is not for me, you know. This night... is a gift."
"You're a very generous man."
She closed the door after him. Echo would have some fun tonight. Well, whoever Echo was...
*
Taffy giggled and nibbled on a cherry from her glass. She was wearing her best leather outfit in a swanky hotel, her legs draped over a handsome man named Vitas. His two friends, a stuffy old guy named Cyril and a nerdy young guy named Walton, were sitting across from them, but Taffy was here for one thing only, and it wasn't them.
"If I had an uncle who'd get me her for my bachelor party, I'd get married, too." Walton said.
"She's very... comfortable with herself, isn't she?" Cyril replied.
"Yeah. Uh-huh."
"Taffy, baby, I'm going to have fun with you tonight." Vitas said.
"Anything you want!" she agreed. "It's all blue skies!"
A moment later, a balding hotel manager approached them. "Gentlemen. Ma'am."
Taffy smiled. "Sir."
"Perhaps you'd like to take the party up to your suite?" he offered.
"Awww!" Taffy purred, nuzzling Vitas' chin with her own.
"I'd be happy to send up a complementary bottle of champagne."
"Oooh!" she said, suddenly ecstatic.
"Make it two bottles and you got a deal." Vitas said, with a slight edge.
The man nodded. "Two bottles it is, sir."
Taffy squealed with excitement.
"Let's go." Vitas said. He got up and jumped over the couch to the table behind. Cyril and Walton followed him on the floor as Vitas landed. Taffy followed his lead.
"Wait for me!" Taffy teased, swinging her leg over the sofa. She stepped on the table and stumbled in her six-inch heels. Vitas smiled and picked her up. They disappeared up the stairs, Taffy's whooping severely annoying the guests.
*
"Help!" Taffy screamed. "Someone help me!" She ran down the hall, banging on every door she could reach, nearly tripping over her damn shoes. Vitas was striding down the hall after her, shirt unbuttoned, holding a champagne bottle. "Please! I need help!"
"Taffy, come on!" Vitas said, getting ever closer. "We're just having a good time!"
"Somebody, please!" she sobbed, limping along. She could hear Vitas' pal coming out of the room. "Where is she?" he was saying, laughing. "Grab her, man!"
They were metres away. Vitas was about to be within grabbing distance when the manager from downstairs turned the corner. She slammed into him, weeping. "Please! Help me! They... they hurt me. Please!"
"Ah, crap." one of them said. Vitas and Walton backed off and retreated to their room.
"It's okay. You're safe now." the man said, leading her into an elevator. He put his key into a slot and it began descending. Taffy caught her reflection on the button panel. Her leather skirt was ripped, her red blouse ruffled. Her hair had been yanked out of its styled home and her lip was bleeding.
The elevator opened in the bustling kitchen. The man - his name tag said Gerry - led Taffy through the crowd, a reassuring hand on the small of her back.
"Where are we going?" she asked meekly. "I shouldn't be here..."
"Don't worry." Gerry said. "Those idiots didn't follow us. Even if they did... nobody's getting through here."
They arrived at a door. He entered a code into the nearby keypad and the door spring ajar with a buzzing noise. Taffy followed him in to a small office space.
"See? Everything's fine. Why don't you sit down--"
"That was not okay," she said. "I mean, I know who I am, and, and what I do, but I didn't sign up for that. And I really have to go. Is there a backdoor? I have somewhere to be..."
Gerry went to a drawer and pulled from it a large stack of dollar bills.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I understand you've had a difficult evening, ma'am--"
Taffy scoffed. "Yeah?"
"We deeply regret any... indignities you may have suffered." he continued, placing the money on the desk. "But it's hotel policy, in these instances, to offer a one-time payment to, uh, compensate you for--"
"You want me to let those freaks off the hook? Fine, they're off the hook. I just want to go."
"You feel that way now." Gerry insisted. "But tomorrow or the next day you may change your mind. We feel it's in your best interest--"
"I'm leaving." she said firmly, turning for the door.
"Ma'am; that's $10,000."
Taffy froze. She turned to look at the stack of bills. Gerry smacked a piece of paper next to it. "Now all you have to do is sign this piece of paper stating you will not pursue legal action against the hotel or the guests in question... and you walk away."
Taffy walked to the desk, placing her purse down, fingered the stack lightly. "With... that."
"$10,000." Gerry assured.
"I just take your $10,000 and disappear?"
Gerry chuckled. "Yeah. You could be free. You can go anywhere."
Taffy looked him in the eye. "No, thanks." she grabbed her purse, knocking the money to the ground, and turned on her heel for the door.
Gerry bent down to pick it up. "I just want you to think about it--"
Taffy turned and plunged her knee into his face. He stumbled and fell against the filing cabinets, his nose gushing blood. He slid to the floor, out like a light.
Taffy dug around in her purse until she found her bluetooth. She hooked it on her ear and pushed the button. "I'm in."
"We're in position." Vitas said on the other line.
"Door code's 489-374-83."
She looked to Gerry and smiled. "Blue Skies!"
*
Vitas, Walton and Cyril appeared a few minutes later. As they were getting into position, Taffy slid her leather pants down from inside her skirt before removing the skirt, but keeping the heeled boots. She was pulling the blouse over her head when she caught Walton looking at her.
"They're called breasts." she informed him. "And yes, they are exceptional." She buttoned up a black shirt. "You can mention that when you blog about this later."
"I wasn't gonna blog about it." Walton said resentfully, but he went back to moving the filing cabinet before opening his laptop.
"So, boss, what do we really call you?" Vitas purred as he set up the explosives.
"You really call me Taffy. And the client's the boss. He put together this merry band of thieves. In his infinite wisdom, he decided that... well, guess I am the boss of you."
Walton looked to the fallen Gerry. "Well, not taking him out's your first mistake."
Taffy strode to Gerry, stuck a syringe in his neck and pushed the needle in. She threw it to the ground before slamming Walton against the wall, arm against his throat. "I figured out on my first job when a little creative thinking on my part almost got me not paid: never second-guess a client. And wear comfy shoes. Our client's paying premium for no-kill. He gets no-kill. Okey-dokey?"
"I-I-I think you're hurting him." the old guy, Cyril, said, finally piping up.
"You're very astute, professor. It's a good thing this is a no-kill job." she snarled at Walton. She let him go and he gasped in a lungful of air. "You could have been in trouble there."
"Uh, yeah, right." Cyril babbled. "Shouldn't we go far away now?"
Taffy spoke up, all the while fixing her makeup. "Here's how this is going to go: in sixty-four seconds, the high-security building on the other side of that wall is going to be shutting down their motion sensors, infrared sensors, security cameras; we will be in a Gray Hour. In the one hour it takes them to revolutionize their security system and make it impenetrable, we penetrate."
"Uh, excuse me," Cyril said. "If their system is down, they must know someone is going to try and break in."
Taffy rolled her eyes. "That's six seconds we can't get back. Inside security: five guards, each with GPS tracking devices implanted in their badges. The guards will be focused on perimeter threats. They're not allowed to go on the vault floor during Gray Hour for security reasons." she turned to Walton. "You have 'em yet?"
"Not until we're inside. The-the sensors don't pick up anything..."
Taffy looked at her watch. "Fifteen seconds. You ready to go boom?"
"Ready." Vitas said, readying the detonator. Everyone took cover.
Walton looked up. "We gotta sync our watches--"
"Uh, sweetie, you're on Taffy Standard Time now. And three, two, one. Go!"
A loud bang accompanied the opposite side of the wall blowing in. They stumbled for cover, coughing, and examined their fine work.
"A hundred people must have heard this." Cyril gasped.
Taffy ignored him, stepping through into the tunnel.
"Upstairs, they're just thinking a truck rumbled by." Vitas said. Taffy noted he was beaming. "I am the best, my man!"
"Bladdy blah." Taffy said. "We're all the best, braggy."
Taffy stopped in her tracks. Just metres away was a huge vault door.
"So pretty..." she murdered. She placed a tentative hand on it, placed her ear tI it, and began to turn the lock.
"Hey," Vitas said under his breath to Walton. "If she's the best, funny I've never heard of her."
"You've heard of Bonnie and Clyde, right?" Taffy half-yelled across the room, having easily heard them.
Vitas smiled. "Are you Bonnie?"
"No. I'm not that stupid. Bonnie and her gun-crazy beau - you know what they wanted? It wasn't to be the best. Best-ness means a quiet, head-down kind of life. No, Bonnie and Clydie: they wanted fame. Notoriety. And boy, did they get it. They also got dead. I'll pass on that. When this is over, feel free to forget I exist. Now, just keep it down while this little darling and I get to know each other better."
Walton's computer made a beeping noise. "Uh, coming online. Two secs. I'll see the guards."
Cyril stepped forward, jaw hanging open in awe.
"What?" Walton asked.
"Wow..."
Walton looked up. The vault door was wide open.
"She's in."
"Damn!" Vitas said, jumping in after her.
"Damn..." Walton agreed half-heartedly.
"Tick-tock, boys." Taffy called.
Cyril and Walton joined Taffy and Vitas in a vault full to the brim with art. Paintings, sculptures, carvings, even framed Lino prints: there was at least a hundred of everything.
Cyril was acting like it was Christmas. "Oh. Hey, this is... Oh. Oh, my God. There are rumors of secret vaults used by top museums to store the world's most controversial works, but--"
"Yeah," Vitas said, motioning to a painting. "Piccolo Boy here is shocking."
"Oh. Yeah, Piccolo Boy, as you call him, was recently stolen from a private collector in Paris." he laughed. "Valued at $17 million."
Taffy shrugged. "Whatevs." she disappeared into one of the vault's side rooms.
"So, we're stealing stolen art?" Walton asked.
"Well, some of these works are merely of questionable provenance." Cyril answered. "Yeah, high-quality counterfeits. Antiquities which are my particular forte--"
"Hey, old stuff expert?" Taffy called. "Old stuff's in here."
Cyril followed her to a vast array of sculptures.
"Thank you, gods," he breathed. "And goddesses..."
Taffy checked her watch. "Gray Hour's now Gray 45 minutes." She took out a folded piece of paper and showed it to Cyril. On it was a sketch of a marble tablet. "This is what we're here for. Find it, tell me if it's the real thing so we can pack it up and get the hell outta here."
"I thought it might be this." he said, nodding. "Why else would I have been chosen?"
"Chosen for what?" Vitas pushed. "What are we taking out of here? Huh?"
"The Parthenon." Cyril said simply.
"...Isn't that kind of big?"
*
Paul gave his front door a gentle push. Even this tiny action caused his ribs to burn. He limped to the small apartment's coffee table and popped his pill bottle lid. But froze. He put the bottle down and, with a terrible pain in his side, whipped out his gun, stood up, and turned around.
"Don't do... don't shoot me!" Lubov pleaded.
"How'd you get in here?" Paul demanded.
Lubov emerged from the shadows, holding a lock. "Your -your locks are for crap."
Paul massaged his wound. "Get out."
"You got to help me. Put me in Witness Protection, uh, get me out of town."
The gun chamber clicked.
"Just listen to me!"
"The last time I listened to you, I got a hole through the gut."
"I-I didn't set you up!"
"You sent me to an ambush!"
"They were going to kill me!"
"Who is she?" He stormed towards Lubov, shoving the picture of Caroline into his face.
"A-a pretty girl..."
"She is a pretty girl. Pretty and lost. You know lots of girls like that."
Lubov shook his head. "Not her."
"Is she the reason they want me dead? Her name's Caroline. Bells ringing?!"
"No! I-I gave you a tip! Somebody gives it to me, I give it to you, that's how it works."
"Who gave you the tip?"
"Boom, you get shot, my old, nice life, over. I can't call my friends, I can't call home. I don't have any money."
Paul slammed Lubov into the wall, yelled in his face. "Who gave you the tip?! Was it her?!"
"A voice on the phone! A-A man. Not old, not young. Uh, accent. Sounded Georgian maybe. Russian Georgia, not Sweet Home Georgia..."
Lubov panted nervously. Paul realised his gun was digging into his chest. He retreated, and Lubov unflattened himself.
"Alabama..."
"Wh-What do I know? It's confusing, this country. The Borodins used me to get to you. That means they know I talk to you. The FBI! I am a dead man already if you don't help me."
Paul put his gun back in his holster. "If I help you... I never hear from you again. Never. As in ever."
Lubov nodded, eager to please. "Never ever."
"Stay here. I'll see what I can do."
Lubov sniffled.
*
"And this is one of the missing Elgin Marbles." Cyril laughed, looking at the marble tablet in Vitas' hands.
"Yeah?" Vitas asked, bored.
"Okay, but we're looking for a frieze fragment, not a metope panel."
"Over their heads, Professor." Taffy said flatly.
Cyril sighed. "The Elgin Marbles are, uh, large sections of the Parthenon's marble friezes and statuary, stolen in the late 19th century."
"So we are stealing stolen art, basically." Walton said.
"Not technically. You see, the Turks, who controlled Athens at the time - they granted Thomas Bruce, the Seventh Earl of Elgin, permission to remove the marbles, so, uh..."
"So, Greece hired us to take this one back." Vitas said.
"Client info is confidential." Taffy warned.
"Explains why we got hired through middlemen." Walton murdered.
"And the no-kill order." Vitas observed. "Things go bad, they don't want some kind of international incident."
Taffy turned to look at them all. "When a client doesn't say upfront who they are, finding out's usually not healthy. How 'bout we stop speculating?"
Walton looked back to his laptop. "All right. The guards are rotating down to the lower floors."
Taffy examined her watch. "They're not coming down here. At least not for the next 34 minutes."
"Better be right." Walton said.
Taffy glared. "I am."
Walton glared back before walking away.
Vitas appeared over Taffy's shoulder. "It's nothing personal, his thing with you. If I were in charge, he'd be an ass with me, too, so... Want to grab a drink after this?"
Taffy looked at him, smiled teasingly. "Ask me when we get out of here."
He smiled. "Will do."
"Hey!" Walton yelled behind them. "Where are you going with that?"
Taffy and Vitas whirled around. Cyril was making a run for it with a large tablet wrapped in black.
"Hey!" Walton yelled, running after him. Cyril pushed a button on the wall, and the vault door started closing. Walton made a grab for him, but Cyril grabbed an antique sword from a rack of them and sunk it into Walton's gut. He screamed and backed away.
"No, don't!" Taffy yelled, running towards them, Vitas right behind them. "Don't let that close!"
Cyril slipped out of the vault and out of sight. "Stop the door!" Vitas screamed.
Just as they reached it, the vault door shut.
"Bastard!" Vitas said, clearly wanting to kick something. Taffy was about to kick him when Walton, with his strange moaning noises, caught her attention.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, she and Vitas helping him to his feet.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." he winced. "Peachy."
"Over here." Vitas led the way.
"You're gonna be fine." Taffy said as Walton groaned. "I can get us out of here."
"The alarm comes back up in... In-In what?"
Taffy checked. "31 minutes."
Vitas made a moaning noise.
"Not gonna be a problem." she assured. "Just got to make a quick call."
She took her phone out and rang her secret weapon: Boyd.
"What's up?" a gruff voice said.
"It's me."
"How in the hell are you getting reception down here?"
Taffy waved him to silence. "I got a double-crosser coming your way. Probably the southwest corner of the building. He has what we came for. Black bag. You're gonna have to complete this job for me. I need a happy client."
"I'm on it." Boyd said. "Everything all right in there?
"We're locked in. My tech guy's gonna need medical, but I'm fine, and I can get us out, which is irrelevant if the job's a wash."
"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there."
"Thanks. See you in a few--"
A high-pitched, staticky, squealing noise filled Taffy's ears. Her mind was on fire. She wanted to scream, but couldn't find her voice, her head was splitting apart, things spilling out, being ripped apart, she was falling away, empty...
Her arm dropped limply by her side. The phone fell from beneath her fingers. She looked at the two men stating at her in the room full of strange pictures.
"Did I... fall asleep?"
*
"Neuromodulator is your friend." Topher said. "And I don't mean friend from kindergarten you see twice a year. Neuromod is your BFF. Brain mapping requires--"
"Pizza squares, ice cream bites, beef jerky?" Ivy said, reading from a list on the fridge. "Okay, you may be the boy-god of all things neuro, and I do worship at the altar of your genius, but I am not getting you all this stuff." Ivy was Topher's assistant. She was a young Asian girl, fresh from university. She would've been pretty to Topher, but she was too short, had too many piercings and never wore any other kind of thigh-high boots.
"Ivy, babe. Add juice boxes."
Ivy rolled her eyes. "You're privilege-abusing."
"Do you want to know how to avoid spandrels when aligning rigid designators?" he asked.
"...Grape or apple?"
"Humility is part of the learning process. I break you down, then I build you back--"
"Topher." Ivy said, pointing at a nearby computer screen.
Topher looked. "Uh-oh."
*
"Shall I go now?" Echo asked, rocking slightly.
"What's wrong with her?" the younger man, Walton, said. Echo was sitting in a fetal position, wide-eyed.
"Hysterical Woman Syndrome?" the older man, Vitas, said.
"Five minutes ago, you were kissing her ass."
"Five minutes ago, we were on Taffy Standard Time." Vitas looked to a phone in his hand. "It's a private number. It's not letting me dial out."
"Shall I go now...?"
"Yeah. Let's go! Get us the hell out of here!"
Vitas threw the phone on the floor.
Echo noted it was flashing.
"Do we know how long?" Walton asked.
Vitas threw off his jacket. "Not long enough. I've dated my share of crazies. I know how to deal with this." He squatted down in front of Echo. "Taffy?"
Echo flinched. She didn't know a Taffy-
"Hey, I'm not saying this isn't cute. It's adorable--"
"Shall I go now...?"
"But the sooner you open that door, the sooner we can go get that drink. So, let's do it."
Echo whispered, terrified. "Shall I go--"
He slapped her across the face. Echo fell over, gasping. She looked at him, scared.
"Now?"
*
Cyril ran from the emergency exit and began his way up the ramp to street level. He paused for a moment to suck in some air.
"Give me the bag."
Cyril looked up. A large, gruff man was standing at the top of the ramp in the shadows.
"Who are you?" he asked, heart racing.
"The bag." the man repeated.
"I-I can't do that."
The man started walming towards him. "Give... me... the bag."
"I've got a buyer who... He pays me twice as much as whoever, so..."
The man pulled his gun out.
"Okay, okay! You an' me - we go in together. 'Kay, 50-50?"
The gun clicked.
"I'm gonna drop this..." he warned.
"I'll shoot you."
"This is the Parthenon. This is a piece of the Parth... Do you know how much that's worth? That's millions. That's... I'm gonna turn it into dust, I swear to God!"
The man didn't even consider this. "You drop it, I shoot you. Then you don't get paid or breathe."
"Yeah. Okay..."
He slipped the tablet into the man's hands and, as soon as it left his grasp, ran. He only got a few metres before a searing pain shot through his leg, accompanied by a loud bang. Cyril tells and collapsed on the ground, clutching his leg.
"You shot me!" he said as the man approached.
"Barely." the man said, and dragged Cyril up to the street.
*
"I don't know where Boyd is." Topher told Adelle. "Handler-Man is MIA, and Echo's vitals are..." He lifted up a piece of paper. "Th-This is the chart? They're off it!"
"Boyd checked in with Central eight minutes ago." Dominic said, emerging from behind Adelle's desk. "Apparently, a member of Echo's crew absconded with the target item and locked the rest of the team in the vault. Explains the change in vitals."
"This is a special skills felony engagement." Topher continued. "I wove more than one thread of unflappable into that tapestry. Okay? Echo could have an exploded belly bomb, and her heart rate shouldn't go past 65 beats a minute."
"Maybe you made a mistake in the programming." Dominic suggested.
Topher looked like he had just run over a puppy.
"Something's wrong." Adelle said. "I'll initiate contact."
"Uh... yeah. Echo's not picking up her cell." Topher said meekly.
"You reached out to an Active during an engagement without my say-so?!"
"It's the adrenaline. It makes me forget my protocols and 'q's."
"Echo was talking to Boyd when her vitals spiked." Dominic said. He hit a button on Adelle's remote and a recording began playing on her office's television.
"--Which is irrelevant if the job's a wash."
"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there."
"Thanks. See you in a few--"
A high-pitched squealing filled their ears. "What was that?" Dominic asked.
"Play it again." Adelle ordered.
He did. Same static. M
Topher stepped forward. "That's not... Uh-uh. That didn't happen. How do I know that didn't happen? Because that can't happen."
"Topher, what can't happen?" Adelle asked.
"This goes nowhere good." Dominic mumbled.
"I'm pretty sure... I'm kind of positive, actually, that something happened. The exact same thing happened, except without the chair."
"You've stated that remote wipes aren't possible!"
"I've said they're untested. I've said they're a very bad, bad idea. I've said I can't do them."
Adelle looked like she wanted to throttle something. "How do we undo it?"
"We... don't? Somebody out there figured out our frequency, hacked into our call, and that's not even the hard part. I mean, we're talking about someone... I could not have seen this coming. This is not my fault."
Adelle sighed and sank into her chair. "All right. We'll parcel out the blame later. What matters now is the reputation of this company. We have an engagement to complete."
"I'll confirm that Boyd retrieved the target item." Dominic offered.
"About Echo," Adelle asked. "How bad is it?"
Topher ran his hands through his hair. "Being wiped is not unlike being born. It's traumatic. I mean, in here, we minimize the trauma with throw pillows and perfectly crunchy lettuce. There's no conflict. But out there it's all... fluorescent lights and forceps. Right now, Echo is experiencing extreme sensory overload. And that could lead to a coma state. Or it could turn her into Carrie at the prom. Either way... we have to help her. She can't help herself."
*
"Okay," Vitas said. "Now you say it."
"I'm...Taffy..." Echo said slowly.
"And..."
"...I know how to get us out of here..."
"Yeah, good. What else?"
"...I try to be my best..?"
"You are the best." Vitas said, eyes wide. "You remember? Bonnie and Clyde?"
"Are they here, too?"
Vitas inhaled deeply. "Okay, all right, let's rewind a few minutes. You were talking on this." He held up a phone.
"I was talking on this..."
"You were talking and you said that you could open the door."
"...I know how to open the door?"
"Yes, good. So, open it."
"...I try to be my best?" she whispered.
"Yeah.," Walton said monotonously, bloody hands covering his wound. "Taffy's gone, man. She's not coming back."
*
Adelle strode into the Imprint Room. The chair was lifting up to reveal Sierra, wearing a black shirt, leather trousers and impossible high-heeled boots.
"Hello, Taffy. I'm Adelle DeWitt. I need your help."
Sierra smiled. "Blue skies."
*
"Lots of people would die to see this stuff." Walton said. "Now it looks like we're going to."
Echo looked at a picture of a green woman with many faces, all crashing together. "This one's broken."
Walton smiled a little. "Yeah, look who's talking."
Echo brushed her face lingeringly.
"On the inside." Walton clarified. "So, you like... art?"
Echo stared intently at the woman. "It doesn't look right."
"It's not about looking right. Art's about feeling right and you... have no idea what I'm talking about."
"She makes me feel... funny."
"Well, that's 'cause these other guys... they painted what they saw. But this guy, he painted what is. That's what art's for: to show us who we are. And this one-it's saying how we start off whole, then somewhere along the line, the pieces start to slide. We get broken."
"...That's sad..."
"No, it's weak."
Echo turned around. Vitas strode in with a duffel bag. "You can either get broken or you can be the one doing the breaking. No mystery which way you went."
*
"Ten months of research" Taffy said. "Blueprints, security systems, police response time. The Parthenon job was supposed to be mine."
"And now it is." Adelle said.
Taffy circled Adelle, flipping her boned hair out of her eyes. "You were running two ponies all along."
"It was the client's decision."
Taffy began circling Dominic. "Hey, I figured out on my first job, when a little creative thinking on my part almost got me not paid: never second-guess a client. And wear comfy shoes. But I had to learn how to lap-dance--"
"We'll pay double your usual fee to extract the team." Dominic said.
"Getting sidelined by some girl at the last minute - my feelings are hurt."
"I assure you that Echo is not 'some girl'" Adelle said. "You and she are cut from the same cloth."
"I've never gotten amnesia during a gig, but whatevs." Taffy said, sitting on the sofa.
"Three of your peers are locked in that vault with nothing between them and a SWAT team but you. There is no balm for a bruised ego like saving the day."
Taffy leant forward and smiled. "I'll need to see the cash."
"We're a bit pressed for time..."
Taffy's smile disappeared.
Adelle stuck a smile of her own on her face. "...Of course."
*
"This remote wipe," Topher told Ivy. "It's not about just creating five seconds of noise. He had to break into our system, which is impossible. He had to get Echo's cell number. He--"
"Or she." Ivy said.
"Or they. It has to be a 'they.' I mean look at this build." He said, motioning to the monitor. "It's not even science. It's art! You saw the firewalls."
"There are many." she agreed.
"I defy another programmer to put that much neurotrophic factor around each and every personality component. This isn't a lone gunman. This is a conspiracy. A gigantic, multi-pronged, conspiracy."
Ivy stared at him intently. "You need to take something."
Topher shook his head at her, grabbed the phone and dialed Boyd's number.
"What is it, Topher?" Boyd asked.
"When you took Echo out tonight, did she seem normal?"
"Yeah, why?"
Topher's eyes widened. "You don't know..."
"What's going on?"
"Echo's been wiped. Remotely."
"What--?!"
"It's not my fault!"
*
"Mr. Langton?" Adelle said into the phone.
"I talked to Topher."
Adelle nearly cursed. "If there were anything you could do, I'd already have you doing it."
"I didn't think remote wipes were even possible."
"Neither did we. You retrieved the target item?" she asked as Dominic showed the money to Taffy, who nodded her approval.
"Yeah, I got it. So how are you planning on getting her out of there?"
"We're working the problem."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm hopeful of a happy outcome."
"And if the outcome isn't... happy?"
Adelle sighed. "Then you should prepare yourself."
Boyd hung up, adelle returned to Dominic and Taffy. "We believe, with the right equipment," Dominic was sayng. "You could get inside the building through the roof."
"Oh, sweetie, equipment's not the issue. The Gray Hour is going to end in nine minutes. We won't even make it out of the parking garage." Taffy walked to the bar and poured herself a drink. "But if this Echo chick is as good as you say, brain fry aside, I don't need to get inside. All I need is a phone."
*
"I like sky." Echo said. She had sunk down next to Walton, who was growing ever paler, and was now observing another painting.
"Yeah, the blue kind." he said. "You mentioned."
"That's a mountain." she said, pointing.
Walton sighed. "Yep."
"...what's my name?"
"Taffy."
Echo looked at the mountain. "When I'm there, my name is something else.."
"Hand me that bag." Walton asked. Taffy dragged the duffel bag towards them. He began digging through it.
"What are you looking for?" Echo asked.
"A way out of here."
Something shiny caught Echo's eye. A silver canister with a ring on top. She out her finger in the ring--
and Walton snatched it from her hand. "Not to play with." he said sternly, sticking it in his pocket.
"There's an air duct back here." Vitas called from somewhere behind them.
"He's gonna find a way out of here." Echo observed.
Walton shook his head. "Vitas isn't gonna open that door." He opened a case with a syringe in it. "And I'm not gonna open that door. And you're definitely not gonna open that door." He indicated his computer. "They are gonna open the door. They're gonna take us to prison."
"What's prison?" Echo asked.
"...It's a place with no sky."
Echo looked at the mountain picutre's sky, worried.
"We're bad guys. When bad guys get caught, we don't get to see sky."
"I'm a bad guy?"
"You... are a talking cucumber." he said. He put the needle to the hand. "And I... am too broken to fix..."
In a flash, Vitas appeared and snatched the syringe away. "Oh, no, no, no, no, you don't get to take the easy way out! I'm lifting the no-kill order." Vitas grabbed the duffel bag and took a machine gun from within. "When those doors open... we're shooting our way out."
*
"Yumia Takahashi." Topher said.
Ivy joined him sitting on his office floor, juice box in hand. "You think he's one of the prongs in the mutli-pronged conspiracy."
"He's always gunning for my job, he loves the beach..."
"Here." she said, handing him the juice box. "You really think a programmer in Tokyo is going to remote-wipe Echo in Los Angeles to steal your job?"
"He shows DeWitt his mad skills, suddenly Topher's no longer 'Number One Son'!"
"Echo could die. That is not a plan for career advancement."
Topher sighed. "Anyway, Takahashi's a hack. There's only one person I know who could achieve a remote wipe. And he's dead."
Topher stared at his juice box.
*
"You know, this only works if she answers." Taffy pointed out.
"Dial again." Adelle ordered. "Keep dialling."
"I'd like to go over the plan again." Dominic insisted.
Taffy smiled at Adelle. "Nervous Nellie. He's actually kinda sweet. Okey-dokey: the vault door contains a whole mess of glass re-lockers. If somebody, me say, drills through the door from the inside, the glass breaks. Presto, alarm goes off, whole other mess of locks are released. No getting out."
"You bypass the glass." Dominic said.
"Resin. Makes it crack rather than shatter. If you do it right." she looked at her watch. "Well, this is about to be a giant anticlimax. Ten, nine, eight..."
"Dial again." Adelle said.
Taffy rolled her eyes and dialled again. "Seven, six, five..."
*
"Four," Vitas said. "Three..."
"Two?" Echo asked.
"One. It's over."
"I don't like this room anymore." Echo said, worrying. "Where are the better rooms? Oh... I have something in my pocket!"
She reached in and took the phone out, and showed it happily to Walton. "Look."
*
"It's over?" Adelle asked.
"It's almost over." Taffy informed her. "The security system's going back online one device at a time. The vault door, then the heat sensors, then the motion detectors. If I can get the vault door open before the motion detectors reactivate, we're all good."
Taffy stuck the phone on the dock, converting it to speakerphone.
*
"Is this the chowderhead?" a voice said in Echo's ear.
..."I don't know."
"Clearly, yes. Here's the dealio. I can get you out of that vault if you do exactly as I say. Can you do that?"
"I think so." Echo said.
"Underwhelming, but let's give it a go. You should be carrying a vial of resin. Bra's a good place."
Echo stuck her hand in her bra until she came out with a small vial. "I have it!" she said happily. Then you've also got a nozzle thingy tucked into your boot. Lipstick-like."
Echo rooted around in her boot as Walton and Vitas watched her. "Yes!"
"Screw one thingy onto the other thingy, and you're gonna need a drill." the voice said.
"She says we need a drill." she told the others.
"Who's 'she'?" Vitas asked.
"I don't know." Walton said. "But I'd give Taffy the drill."
"This is fun." Echo said as Vitas handed her the drill. It was heavy. "Are you having fun?"
"No."
"Go to the door." the voice said. "You'll want both hands." Echo put the phone on the floor and went to the vault door, still in hand. Vitas picked it up and out it on loudspeaker. "On three, start drilling into the door. Doesn't matter where."
Echo put the drill into position. "Ready."
"I'm going to close my eyes and pray to God that when I say stop, you will stop. One... two... ...three... drill!"
Echo began drilling--
"And stop. Spray the resin into the hole - three squirts. Count 'em out."
Echo began squirting. "One, two... three."
"Put the drill on the hole." the voice said. "Turn it on. Now this is the important part. Do not move your hand. Don't think about it. Do it."
Echo looked to Vitas. He just raised his eyebrows. Echo turned back to the door, put the drill in place, and began drilling.
A second later, the lights went out and a loud alarm started whirring.
"Is that good?" she yelled over the noise.
*
"Chowderhead!" Taffy said. "Talk to me." she turned to Adelle and Dominic. "This wouldn't have happened if you didn't give my job away."
"What's the police response time?" Dominic asked.
"Seven minutes. Guards inside, less. Six minutes, fifteen seconds less."
On the phone, someone called Echo a stupid bitch before the line went dead. Adelle bowed her head, silent.
"Taffy," she said after a moment. "Thank you for your services."
Taffy raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
Adelle nodded. "Mr, Dominic will take you down for your treatment."
Taffy took the briefcase full of money in her hand. "Thanks for the cash. Good luck with the girl."
"I'll notify Boyd." Dominic said. "He may have to neutralize her."
"No. I'm beginning to suspect he hasn't the proper distance. Send down for Ramirez and Hutchins. Put them on standby."
"...I'm sorry."
"Me, too."
Dominic followed Taffy out the door.
*
"The guards are closing in." Walton warned, staring at his laptop. Through the darkness, Echo could see he was still white as a sheet. Vitas was moving a bunch of crates to block the vault door. "Remember, your hands go over your head."
Echo out her hands over her head.
"Okay. Why?"
"Because you don't want the guards to put a bullet in your chest."
"Don't listen to him." Vitas said. "Take this." He handed her a gun and dragged her to the crates. "Get up. Point it at the bad guys and you squeeze the trigger."
"Aren't we the bad guys?"
"Down." he said. They both squatted behind the crates. "Remember what I told you? You get broken or you do the breaking."
Slowly, the vault door opened. Just metres away, a dozen guards ran to the walls for cover, guns at the ready.
"Come out slowly!" one called. "Let me see your hands! Let's go!"
"Start shooting," Vitas said. "Now." Echo realised he was pointing his gun at her. "Or I shoot you."
"I-I'd like to go now..."
"Let's see your hands!" the guard called. "There's no way out! Drop the weapon!"
"Do it." Vitas said.
"Building perimeter is locked down! Hands on your head!"
Echo bowed to her head, scared. Something caught her eye. The duffel bag was at her side, and the syringe was lying on top.
"Do it now!" Vitas screamed. "What are you waiting for? Do it!"
Echo snatched the syringe and stuck it in Vitas' neck. He screamed and fell over, his gun firing rapidly. The guards fired back, but Echo didn't see who was getting hit. She turned and ran for Walton, fell down at his side.
"Around the corner." he said, taking the strange canister from earlier from his pocket. "You can get out." With great difficulty, he stood, and chucked the canister at the guards. It went off with a bang, smoke shooting out. "Go." he ordered, wincing. "Go now; they won't be able to see you."
Echo didn't move. She couldn't just leave him here.
Walton deserved to see the sky.
*
Boyd shot the keypad and the door opened without complaint. Inside was a normal office, with a gaping joke in the wall. He was about to climb through it when he saw two figures emerging from the shadows.
Echo. Supporting a young man, who looked wounded.
"Are you okay?" Boyd asked.
"He's broken." she said. "Can we fix him?"
Boyd nodded. "We'll try." He threw the man over his shoulder and motioned for Echo to follow.
"I'm not broken." she said.
Boyd looked at her. "No, you're not. Come on. Let's get out of here."
Echo took a lingering look at the hole before following.
*
"What took you so long?" Lubov raged as Paul walked in the door. "There's a car out there. Two guys, motor on, fifteen minutes at least."
He followed Paul to the kitchen. "This is west Hollywood." Paul said. "Two guys in an idling car isn't news."
"So, who am I gonna be? Uh, John Smith, maybe? I got a good American accent."
"You're gonna be Anton Lubov." Paul said, pouring water in a kettle.
"I d- I don't get it."
"I may have misled you about the "me helping you." I needed you to stay put while I put you front and center on every 'be on the lookout' list from here to New York. If you try to leave Los Angeles by plane, train, or automobile, the FBI is going to be all over you. We won't be discreet. I'll personally drop you off at the Borodins' doorstep, make sure they know we're friends."
"Are you crazy?" Lubov said, voice filled with hysteria. "You want me to die?"
"I don't want you to die, but if you do, there's a lot to learn from a dead body. I know how the Russians kill. I know their favorite weapons. I know where to look for bruises. I know which body parts they like to chop off and what message they want a body to send." he said flatly.
"I tried to help you..."
"If your body turns up and tells a different story, well, then that'll give me information, too."
Paul pointed to the door.
"The FBI doesn't work like that..." Paul pushed him out of the kitchen and to the front door. "You ca- you can't do this!"
"I'm a screw-up, remember? My CI shows up dead, nobody's gonna blink. Nobody's gonna care."
Lubov froze in the doorway. "You put on your mean face, act tough, but you will care, Agent Ballard. That's your problem."
Paul shut the door.
*
Adelle fingered the tablet lightly, smiling. "Michelangelo believed his sculptures already existed inside the marble, waiting to be freed." she mused, before looking to Dominic. "We should get this to our clients' first thing in the morning."
"And the antiquities expert?" He asked.
"They can have him, too." Adelle said bitterly.
Dominic opened the door to see Topher standing there. Adelle nodded for him to come in as Dominic left. "So..." he said. "I put Echo through every test I could think of, which is a lot. The remote wipe didn't do any permanent damage, so... phew."
Adelle sat down. "Whatever happened... in Echo's head in that vault - it's gone?"
"She's fresh as morning dew. No pesky human evolution bits lingering around."
"Well done. I believe Victor has completed his debriefing. He's ready to be wiped."
Silence.
"It was Alpha, wasn't it?" Topher blurted. "Nobody else could come even close to pulling off a remote wipe. He's alive. He's out there."
Adelle slid a piece of paper across her desk. "You'll need to sign and initial at the bottom."
Topher stepped back. "Is this...? Am I fired?"
"I'm upping your security clearance." she said flatly.
"Does that mean... I'm right? Alpha's alive? He's out there? But after the... incident, you told us security tracked him down and, you know..."
"Our influence in substantial, but Alpha, with his gifts - gifts we gave him - finding him, confining him; we're not all-powerful."
"I'm scared. I'm scared like a little girl."
Adelle looked at him. "Sign and initial at the bottom." Topher grabbed a pen. "I'll tell you what I know about Alpha. You'll tell me how he did this and how we can keep him from ever doing it again."
*
When she got back, Echo went swimming. She swam for hours, sometimes just sinking to the bottom of the pool and sitting there until she needed to come up for air. When she was done she took a shower. As she was drying off, getting ready to go to bed, she looke in a mirror. It was covered in steam from the shower. She traced her finger on it lightly. Drawing. A woman with many faces, smashed together. Art.
Echo caught a glimpse of herself through the steam. She wiped it away and looked at her face. She remembered the mountains and the sky.
Prison was a place with no sky.
Echo looked up. There was no sky here.
Was this prison...?
Sierra smiled and padded across the lunch area to Echo's table, tray in hand.
"I wasn't certain where to sit." Sierra said, slipping into the other seat. They ate in silence for a moment.
"I swam thirty laps today." Echo said.
"Good for you." Sierra said, smiling.
"I'm tired now."
"It's important to exercise. I try to be my best."
More silence.
"Are you?"
"Excuse me?" Sierra said.
"Are you your best?"
"I'm... not sure how to know that."
"I think if you always try, that's best. Right?"
She turned to Victor, who was sitting in the third seat, for an opinion.
"Every day is a chance to be better." he offered.
Sierra smiled and continued eating. Echo didn't.
*
"They're eating lunch." Boyd agreed.
"They're eating lunch together, man friend." Topher said, pointing at the lunch area from his office window. "Same three. Even the same table. They're grouping."
"Are you saying they remember each other?"
"No, no, no, no! NO. The wipes are clean. This goes deeper than memory into instinctual survival patterns. Flocking. Whole mess of sparrows turning on a dime. Uh, salmon trucking upstream. This isn't a book club, man friend. This is the herd."
"They're not bison, Topher."
Tooher shrugged. "They're a little bit bison."
"Well, they didn't used to be."
"They volunteered for this." Topher pointed out.
"So we're told. The Powers That Be could be making it up. We don't know the 'people' down there. They're programmed."
Topher smiled. "That tie keep you warm?"
"What? No."
"No: it's what grown up men do in our culture. They put a piece of cloth around their necks so they can assert their status and recognise each other as non-threatening kindred. You wear the tie because it never occurred to you not to. You eat eggs every morning but never at night. You feel excitement and companionship when rich men you've never met put a ball through a net or over a goal line, you feel guilty and a little suspicious every time you see a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell, you look down for at least half a second if a woman leans forward and your stomach rumbles every time you drive by a big golden arch even if you weren't hungry before. Everybody's programmed, Man Friend."
"Don't call me that."
"We're not friends?"
Boyd looked to the window. At the mindless herd below.
"We're not men."
*
"The problem is not insurmountable." Adelle told Mr. Diakos.
"What problem?" he asked, in that thick accent of his she couldn't place.
"Upon review, your engagement was flagged as having certain special requirements."
"Before, you tell me no one gets to know what I'm asking for."
"That's correct." she agreed. "However, our computers do calculate possible risks to our Actives."
"But you... you don't know--"
"No one knows the details of your engagements but you."
She was interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing.
"Excuse me, I'm very sorry..."
She strode to her desk and picked up the receiver. "DeWitt. Yes, sir, of course I understand your concern. Our main goal now is to conclude this matter as quickly as possible..."
She eyed the file marked "Anton Lubov: Victor" on her desk. A picture of Paul Ballard poked out of the side. She pushed it back in. "Yes, the less time we give him to spin his own theories, the better, I think. Well, he needs closure. And we are the experts at giving people what they need, aren't we? Yes, sir, I'll keep you in... formed. Goodbye." she put the phone back down and turned to Mr. Diakos. "I didn't offer you a drink. Tea or something stronger?"
"These computers, they say I have to pay more, I pay more." he said, somewhat desperately.
"You're very understanding, Mr. Diakos. This way, please. Judith will handle the details."
She followed him to the door and opened it for him. He paused in the doorframe. "It is not for me, you know. This night... is a gift."
"You're a very generous man."
She closed the door after him. Echo would have some fun tonight. Well, whoever Echo was...
*
Taffy giggled and nibbled on a cherry from her glass. She was wearing her best leather outfit in a swanky hotel, her legs draped over a handsome man named Vitas. His two friends, a stuffy old guy named Cyril and a nerdy young guy named Walton, were sitting across from them, but Taffy was here for one thing only, and it wasn't them.
"If I had an uncle who'd get me her for my bachelor party, I'd get married, too." Walton said.
"She's very... comfortable with herself, isn't she?" Cyril replied.
"Yeah. Uh-huh."
"Taffy, baby, I'm going to have fun with you tonight." Vitas said.
"Anything you want!" she agreed. "It's all blue skies!"
A moment later, a balding hotel manager approached them. "Gentlemen. Ma'am."
Taffy smiled. "Sir."
"Perhaps you'd like to take the party up to your suite?" he offered.
"Awww!" Taffy purred, nuzzling Vitas' chin with her own.
"I'd be happy to send up a complementary bottle of champagne."
"Oooh!" she said, suddenly ecstatic.
"Make it two bottles and you got a deal." Vitas said, with a slight edge.
The man nodded. "Two bottles it is, sir."
Taffy squealed with excitement.
"Let's go." Vitas said. He got up and jumped over the couch to the table behind. Cyril and Walton followed him on the floor as Vitas landed. Taffy followed his lead.
"Wait for me!" Taffy teased, swinging her leg over the sofa. She stepped on the table and stumbled in her six-inch heels. Vitas smiled and picked her up. They disappeared up the stairs, Taffy's whooping severely annoying the guests.
*
"Help!" Taffy screamed. "Someone help me!" She ran down the hall, banging on every door she could reach, nearly tripping over her damn shoes. Vitas was striding down the hall after her, shirt unbuttoned, holding a champagne bottle. "Please! I need help!"
"Taffy, come on!" Vitas said, getting ever closer. "We're just having a good time!"
"Somebody, please!" she sobbed, limping along. She could hear Vitas' pal coming out of the room. "Where is she?" he was saying, laughing. "Grab her, man!"
They were metres away. Vitas was about to be within grabbing distance when the manager from downstairs turned the corner. She slammed into him, weeping. "Please! Help me! They... they hurt me. Please!"
"Ah, crap." one of them said. Vitas and Walton backed off and retreated to their room.
"It's okay. You're safe now." the man said, leading her into an elevator. He put his key into a slot and it began descending. Taffy caught her reflection on the button panel. Her leather skirt was ripped, her red blouse ruffled. Her hair had been yanked out of its styled home and her lip was bleeding.
The elevator opened in the bustling kitchen. The man - his name tag said Gerry - led Taffy through the crowd, a reassuring hand on the small of her back.
"Where are we going?" she asked meekly. "I shouldn't be here..."
"Don't worry." Gerry said. "Those idiots didn't follow us. Even if they did... nobody's getting through here."
They arrived at a door. He entered a code into the nearby keypad and the door spring ajar with a buzzing noise. Taffy followed him in to a small office space.
"See? Everything's fine. Why don't you sit down--"
"That was not okay," she said. "I mean, I know who I am, and, and what I do, but I didn't sign up for that. And I really have to go. Is there a backdoor? I have somewhere to be..."
Gerry went to a drawer and pulled from it a large stack of dollar bills.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I understand you've had a difficult evening, ma'am--"
Taffy scoffed. "Yeah?"
"We deeply regret any... indignities you may have suffered." he continued, placing the money on the desk. "But it's hotel policy, in these instances, to offer a one-time payment to, uh, compensate you for--"
"You want me to let those freaks off the hook? Fine, they're off the hook. I just want to go."
"You feel that way now." Gerry insisted. "But tomorrow or the next day you may change your mind. We feel it's in your best interest--"
"I'm leaving." she said firmly, turning for the door.
"Ma'am; that's $10,000."
Taffy froze. She turned to look at the stack of bills. Gerry smacked a piece of paper next to it. "Now all you have to do is sign this piece of paper stating you will not pursue legal action against the hotel or the guests in question... and you walk away."
Taffy walked to the desk, placing her purse down, fingered the stack lightly. "With... that."
"$10,000." Gerry assured.
"I just take your $10,000 and disappear?"
Gerry chuckled. "Yeah. You could be free. You can go anywhere."
Taffy looked him in the eye. "No, thanks." she grabbed her purse, knocking the money to the ground, and turned on her heel for the door.
Gerry bent down to pick it up. "I just want you to think about it--"
Taffy turned and plunged her knee into his face. He stumbled and fell against the filing cabinets, his nose gushing blood. He slid to the floor, out like a light.
Taffy dug around in her purse until she found her bluetooth. She hooked it on her ear and pushed the button. "I'm in."
"We're in position." Vitas said on the other line.
"Door code's 489-374-83."
She looked to Gerry and smiled. "Blue Skies!"
*
Vitas, Walton and Cyril appeared a few minutes later. As they were getting into position, Taffy slid her leather pants down from inside her skirt before removing the skirt, but keeping the heeled boots. She was pulling the blouse over her head when she caught Walton looking at her.
"They're called breasts." she informed him. "And yes, they are exceptional." She buttoned up a black shirt. "You can mention that when you blog about this later."
"I wasn't gonna blog about it." Walton said resentfully, but he went back to moving the filing cabinet before opening his laptop.
"So, boss, what do we really call you?" Vitas purred as he set up the explosives.
"You really call me Taffy. And the client's the boss. He put together this merry band of thieves. In his infinite wisdom, he decided that... well, guess I am the boss of you."
Walton looked to the fallen Gerry. "Well, not taking him out's your first mistake."
Taffy strode to Gerry, stuck a syringe in his neck and pushed the needle in. She threw it to the ground before slamming Walton against the wall, arm against his throat. "I figured out on my first job when a little creative thinking on my part almost got me not paid: never second-guess a client. And wear comfy shoes. Our client's paying premium for no-kill. He gets no-kill. Okey-dokey?"
"I-I-I think you're hurting him." the old guy, Cyril, said, finally piping up.
"You're very astute, professor. It's a good thing this is a no-kill job." she snarled at Walton. She let him go and he gasped in a lungful of air. "You could have been in trouble there."
"Uh, yeah, right." Cyril babbled. "Shouldn't we go far away now?"
Taffy spoke up, all the while fixing her makeup. "Here's how this is going to go: in sixty-four seconds, the high-security building on the other side of that wall is going to be shutting down their motion sensors, infrared sensors, security cameras; we will be in a Gray Hour. In the one hour it takes them to revolutionize their security system and make it impenetrable, we penetrate."
"Uh, excuse me," Cyril said. "If their system is down, they must know someone is going to try and break in."
Taffy rolled her eyes. "That's six seconds we can't get back. Inside security: five guards, each with GPS tracking devices implanted in their badges. The guards will be focused on perimeter threats. They're not allowed to go on the vault floor during Gray Hour for security reasons." she turned to Walton. "You have 'em yet?"
"Not until we're inside. The-the sensors don't pick up anything..."
Taffy looked at her watch. "Fifteen seconds. You ready to go boom?"
"Ready." Vitas said, readying the detonator. Everyone took cover.
Walton looked up. "We gotta sync our watches--"
"Uh, sweetie, you're on Taffy Standard Time now. And three, two, one. Go!"
A loud bang accompanied the opposite side of the wall blowing in. They stumbled for cover, coughing, and examined their fine work.
"A hundred people must have heard this." Cyril gasped.
Taffy ignored him, stepping through into the tunnel.
"Upstairs, they're just thinking a truck rumbled by." Vitas said. Taffy noted he was beaming. "I am the best, my man!"
"Bladdy blah." Taffy said. "We're all the best, braggy."
Taffy stopped in her tracks. Just metres away was a huge vault door.
"So pretty..." she murdered. She placed a tentative hand on it, placed her ear tI it, and began to turn the lock.
"Hey," Vitas said under his breath to Walton. "If she's the best, funny I've never heard of her."
"You've heard of Bonnie and Clyde, right?" Taffy half-yelled across the room, having easily heard them.
Vitas smiled. "Are you Bonnie?"
"No. I'm not that stupid. Bonnie and her gun-crazy beau - you know what they wanted? It wasn't to be the best. Best-ness means a quiet, head-down kind of life. No, Bonnie and Clydie: they wanted fame. Notoriety. And boy, did they get it. They also got dead. I'll pass on that. When this is over, feel free to forget I exist. Now, just keep it down while this little darling and I get to know each other better."
Walton's computer made a beeping noise. "Uh, coming online. Two secs. I'll see the guards."
Cyril stepped forward, jaw hanging open in awe.
"What?" Walton asked.
"Wow..."
Walton looked up. The vault door was wide open.
"She's in."
"Damn!" Vitas said, jumping in after her.
"Damn..." Walton agreed half-heartedly.
"Tick-tock, boys." Taffy called.
Cyril and Walton joined Taffy and Vitas in a vault full to the brim with art. Paintings, sculptures, carvings, even framed Lino prints: there was at least a hundred of everything.
Cyril was acting like it was Christmas. "Oh. Hey, this is... Oh. Oh, my God. There are rumors of secret vaults used by top museums to store the world's most controversial works, but--"
"Yeah," Vitas said, motioning to a painting. "Piccolo Boy here is shocking."
"Oh. Yeah, Piccolo Boy, as you call him, was recently stolen from a private collector in Paris." he laughed. "Valued at $17 million."
Taffy shrugged. "Whatevs." she disappeared into one of the vault's side rooms.
"So, we're stealing stolen art?" Walton asked.
"Well, some of these works are merely of questionable provenance." Cyril answered. "Yeah, high-quality counterfeits. Antiquities which are my particular forte--"
"Hey, old stuff expert?" Taffy called. "Old stuff's in here."
Cyril followed her to a vast array of sculptures.
"Thank you, gods," he breathed. "And goddesses..."
Taffy checked her watch. "Gray Hour's now Gray 45 minutes." She took out a folded piece of paper and showed it to Cyril. On it was a sketch of a marble tablet. "This is what we're here for. Find it, tell me if it's the real thing so we can pack it up and get the hell outta here."
"I thought it might be this." he said, nodding. "Why else would I have been chosen?"
"Chosen for what?" Vitas pushed. "What are we taking out of here? Huh?"
"The Parthenon." Cyril said simply.
"...Isn't that kind of big?"
*
Paul gave his front door a gentle push. Even this tiny action caused his ribs to burn. He limped to the small apartment's coffee table and popped his pill bottle lid. But froze. He put the bottle down and, with a terrible pain in his side, whipped out his gun, stood up, and turned around.
"Don't do... don't shoot me!" Lubov pleaded.
"How'd you get in here?" Paul demanded.
Lubov emerged from the shadows, holding a lock. "Your -your locks are for crap."
Paul massaged his wound. "Get out."
"You got to help me. Put me in Witness Protection, uh, get me out of town."
The gun chamber clicked.
"Just listen to me!"
"The last time I listened to you, I got a hole through the gut."
"I-I didn't set you up!"
"You sent me to an ambush!"
"They were going to kill me!"
"Who is she?" He stormed towards Lubov, shoving the picture of Caroline into his face.
"A-a pretty girl..."
"She is a pretty girl. Pretty and lost. You know lots of girls like that."
Lubov shook his head. "Not her."
"Is she the reason they want me dead? Her name's Caroline. Bells ringing?!"
"No! I-I gave you a tip! Somebody gives it to me, I give it to you, that's how it works."
"Who gave you the tip?"
"Boom, you get shot, my old, nice life, over. I can't call my friends, I can't call home. I don't have any money."
Paul slammed Lubov into the wall, yelled in his face. "Who gave you the tip?! Was it her?!"
"A voice on the phone! A-A man. Not old, not young. Uh, accent. Sounded Georgian maybe. Russian Georgia, not Sweet Home Georgia..."
Lubov panted nervously. Paul realised his gun was digging into his chest. He retreated, and Lubov unflattened himself.
"Alabama..."
"Wh-What do I know? It's confusing, this country. The Borodins used me to get to you. That means they know I talk to you. The FBI! I am a dead man already if you don't help me."
Paul put his gun back in his holster. "If I help you... I never hear from you again. Never. As in ever."
Lubov nodded, eager to please. "Never ever."
"Stay here. I'll see what I can do."
Lubov sniffled.
*
"And this is one of the missing Elgin Marbles." Cyril laughed, looking at the marble tablet in Vitas' hands.
"Yeah?" Vitas asked, bored.
"Okay, but we're looking for a frieze fragment, not a metope panel."
"Over their heads, Professor." Taffy said flatly.
Cyril sighed. "The Elgin Marbles are, uh, large sections of the Parthenon's marble friezes and statuary, stolen in the late 19th century."
"So we are stealing stolen art, basically." Walton said.
"Not technically. You see, the Turks, who controlled Athens at the time - they granted Thomas Bruce, the Seventh Earl of Elgin, permission to remove the marbles, so, uh..."
"So, Greece hired us to take this one back." Vitas said.
"Client info is confidential." Taffy warned.
"Explains why we got hired through middlemen." Walton murdered.
"And the no-kill order." Vitas observed. "Things go bad, they don't want some kind of international incident."
Taffy turned to look at them all. "When a client doesn't say upfront who they are, finding out's usually not healthy. How 'bout we stop speculating?"
Walton looked back to his laptop. "All right. The guards are rotating down to the lower floors."
Taffy examined her watch. "They're not coming down here. At least not for the next 34 minutes."
"Better be right." Walton said.
Taffy glared. "I am."
Walton glared back before walking away.
Vitas appeared over Taffy's shoulder. "It's nothing personal, his thing with you. If I were in charge, he'd be an ass with me, too, so... Want to grab a drink after this?"
Taffy looked at him, smiled teasingly. "Ask me when we get out of here."
He smiled. "Will do."
"Hey!" Walton yelled behind them. "Where are you going with that?"
Taffy and Vitas whirled around. Cyril was making a run for it with a large tablet wrapped in black.
"Hey!" Walton yelled, running after him. Cyril pushed a button on the wall, and the vault door started closing. Walton made a grab for him, but Cyril grabbed an antique sword from a rack of them and sunk it into Walton's gut. He screamed and backed away.
"No, don't!" Taffy yelled, running towards them, Vitas right behind them. "Don't let that close!"
Cyril slipped out of the vault and out of sight. "Stop the door!" Vitas screamed.
Just as they reached it, the vault door shut.
"Bastard!" Vitas said, clearly wanting to kick something. Taffy was about to kick him when Walton, with his strange moaning noises, caught her attention.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, she and Vitas helping him to his feet.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." he winced. "Peachy."
"Over here." Vitas led the way.
"You're gonna be fine." Taffy said as Walton groaned. "I can get us out of here."
"The alarm comes back up in... In-In what?"
Taffy checked. "31 minutes."
Vitas made a moaning noise.
"Not gonna be a problem." she assured. "Just got to make a quick call."
She took her phone out and rang her secret weapon: Boyd.
"What's up?" a gruff voice said.
"It's me."
"How in the hell are you getting reception down here?"
Taffy waved him to silence. "I got a double-crosser coming your way. Probably the southwest corner of the building. He has what we came for. Black bag. You're gonna have to complete this job for me. I need a happy client."
"I'm on it." Boyd said. "Everything all right in there?
"We're locked in. My tech guy's gonna need medical, but I'm fine, and I can get us out, which is irrelevant if the job's a wash."
"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there."
"Thanks. See you in a few--"
A high-pitched, staticky, squealing noise filled Taffy's ears. Her mind was on fire. She wanted to scream, but couldn't find her voice, her head was splitting apart, things spilling out, being ripped apart, she was falling away, empty...
Her arm dropped limply by her side. The phone fell from beneath her fingers. She looked at the two men stating at her in the room full of strange pictures.
"Did I... fall asleep?"
*
"Neuromodulator is your friend." Topher said. "And I don't mean friend from kindergarten you see twice a year. Neuromod is your BFF. Brain mapping requires--"
"Pizza squares, ice cream bites, beef jerky?" Ivy said, reading from a list on the fridge. "Okay, you may be the boy-god of all things neuro, and I do worship at the altar of your genius, but I am not getting you all this stuff." Ivy was Topher's assistant. She was a young Asian girl, fresh from university. She would've been pretty to Topher, but she was too short, had too many piercings and never wore any other kind of thigh-high boots.
"Ivy, babe. Add juice boxes."
Ivy rolled her eyes. "You're privilege-abusing."
"Do you want to know how to avoid spandrels when aligning rigid designators?" he asked.
"...Grape or apple?"
"Humility is part of the learning process. I break you down, then I build you back--"
"Topher." Ivy said, pointing at a nearby computer screen.
Topher looked. "Uh-oh."
*
"Shall I go now?" Echo asked, rocking slightly.
"What's wrong with her?" the younger man, Walton, said. Echo was sitting in a fetal position, wide-eyed.
"Hysterical Woman Syndrome?" the older man, Vitas, said.
"Five minutes ago, you were kissing her ass."
"Five minutes ago, we were on Taffy Standard Time." Vitas looked to a phone in his hand. "It's a private number. It's not letting me dial out."
"Shall I go now...?"
"Yeah. Let's go! Get us the hell out of here!"
Vitas threw the phone on the floor.
Echo noted it was flashing.
"Do we know how long?" Walton asked.
Vitas threw off his jacket. "Not long enough. I've dated my share of crazies. I know how to deal with this." He squatted down in front of Echo. "Taffy?"
Echo flinched. She didn't know a Taffy-
"Hey, I'm not saying this isn't cute. It's adorable--"
"Shall I go now...?"
"But the sooner you open that door, the sooner we can go get that drink. So, let's do it."
Echo whispered, terrified. "Shall I go--"
He slapped her across the face. Echo fell over, gasping. She looked at him, scared.
"Now?"
*
Cyril ran from the emergency exit and began his way up the ramp to street level. He paused for a moment to suck in some air.
"Give me the bag."
Cyril looked up. A large, gruff man was standing at the top of the ramp in the shadows.
"Who are you?" he asked, heart racing.
"The bag." the man repeated.
"I-I can't do that."
The man started walming towards him. "Give... me... the bag."
"I've got a buyer who... He pays me twice as much as whoever, so..."
The man pulled his gun out.
"Okay, okay! You an' me - we go in together. 'Kay, 50-50?"
The gun clicked.
"I'm gonna drop this..." he warned.
"I'll shoot you."
"This is the Parthenon. This is a piece of the Parth... Do you know how much that's worth? That's millions. That's... I'm gonna turn it into dust, I swear to God!"
The man didn't even consider this. "You drop it, I shoot you. Then you don't get paid or breathe."
"Yeah. Okay..."
He slipped the tablet into the man's hands and, as soon as it left his grasp, ran. He only got a few metres before a searing pain shot through his leg, accompanied by a loud bang. Cyril tells and collapsed on the ground, clutching his leg.
"You shot me!" he said as the man approached.
"Barely." the man said, and dragged Cyril up to the street.
*
"I don't know where Boyd is." Topher told Adelle. "Handler-Man is MIA, and Echo's vitals are..." He lifted up a piece of paper. "Th-This is the chart? They're off it!"
"Boyd checked in with Central eight minutes ago." Dominic said, emerging from behind Adelle's desk. "Apparently, a member of Echo's crew absconded with the target item and locked the rest of the team in the vault. Explains the change in vitals."
"This is a special skills felony engagement." Topher continued. "I wove more than one thread of unflappable into that tapestry. Okay? Echo could have an exploded belly bomb, and her heart rate shouldn't go past 65 beats a minute."
"Maybe you made a mistake in the programming." Dominic suggested.
Topher looked like he had just run over a puppy.
"Something's wrong." Adelle said. "I'll initiate contact."
"Uh... yeah. Echo's not picking up her cell." Topher said meekly.
"You reached out to an Active during an engagement without my say-so?!"
"It's the adrenaline. It makes me forget my protocols and 'q's."
"Echo was talking to Boyd when her vitals spiked." Dominic said. He hit a button on Adelle's remote and a recording began playing on her office's television.
"--Which is irrelevant if the job's a wash."
"I'll finish the job. Just get out of there."
"Thanks. See you in a few--"
A high-pitched squealing filled their ears. "What was that?" Dominic asked.
"Play it again." Adelle ordered.
He did. Same static. M
Topher stepped forward. "That's not... Uh-uh. That didn't happen. How do I know that didn't happen? Because that can't happen."
"Topher, what can't happen?" Adelle asked.
"This goes nowhere good." Dominic mumbled.
"I'm pretty sure... I'm kind of positive, actually, that something happened. The exact same thing happened, except without the chair."
"You've stated that remote wipes aren't possible!"
"I've said they're untested. I've said they're a very bad, bad idea. I've said I can't do them."
Adelle looked like she wanted to throttle something. "How do we undo it?"
"We... don't? Somebody out there figured out our frequency, hacked into our call, and that's not even the hard part. I mean, we're talking about someone... I could not have seen this coming. This is not my fault."
Adelle sighed and sank into her chair. "All right. We'll parcel out the blame later. What matters now is the reputation of this company. We have an engagement to complete."
"I'll confirm that Boyd retrieved the target item." Dominic offered.
"About Echo," Adelle asked. "How bad is it?"
Topher ran his hands through his hair. "Being wiped is not unlike being born. It's traumatic. I mean, in here, we minimize the trauma with throw pillows and perfectly crunchy lettuce. There's no conflict. But out there it's all... fluorescent lights and forceps. Right now, Echo is experiencing extreme sensory overload. And that could lead to a coma state. Or it could turn her into Carrie at the prom. Either way... we have to help her. She can't help herself."
*
"Okay," Vitas said. "Now you say it."
"I'm...Taffy..." Echo said slowly.
"And..."
"...I know how to get us out of here..."
"Yeah, good. What else?"
"...I try to be my best..?"
"You are the best." Vitas said, eyes wide. "You remember? Bonnie and Clyde?"
"Are they here, too?"
Vitas inhaled deeply. "Okay, all right, let's rewind a few minutes. You were talking on this." He held up a phone.
"I was talking on this..."
"You were talking and you said that you could open the door."
"...I know how to open the door?"
"Yes, good. So, open it."
"...I try to be my best?" she whispered.
"Yeah.," Walton said monotonously, bloody hands covering his wound. "Taffy's gone, man. She's not coming back."
*
Adelle strode into the Imprint Room. The chair was lifting up to reveal Sierra, wearing a black shirt, leather trousers and impossible high-heeled boots.
"Hello, Taffy. I'm Adelle DeWitt. I need your help."
Sierra smiled. "Blue skies."
*
"Lots of people would die to see this stuff." Walton said. "Now it looks like we're going to."
Echo looked at a picture of a green woman with many faces, all crashing together. "This one's broken."
Walton smiled a little. "Yeah, look who's talking."
Echo brushed her face lingeringly.
"On the inside." Walton clarified. "So, you like... art?"
Echo stared intently at the woman. "It doesn't look right."
"It's not about looking right. Art's about feeling right and you... have no idea what I'm talking about."
"She makes me feel... funny."
"Well, that's 'cause these other guys... they painted what they saw. But this guy, he painted what is. That's what art's for: to show us who we are. And this one-it's saying how we start off whole, then somewhere along the line, the pieces start to slide. We get broken."
"...That's sad..."
"No, it's weak."
Echo turned around. Vitas strode in with a duffel bag. "You can either get broken or you can be the one doing the breaking. No mystery which way you went."
*
"Ten months of research" Taffy said. "Blueprints, security systems, police response time. The Parthenon job was supposed to be mine."
"And now it is." Adelle said.
Taffy circled Adelle, flipping her boned hair out of her eyes. "You were running two ponies all along."
"It was the client's decision."
Taffy began circling Dominic. "Hey, I figured out on my first job, when a little creative thinking on my part almost got me not paid: never second-guess a client. And wear comfy shoes. But I had to learn how to lap-dance--"
"We'll pay double your usual fee to extract the team." Dominic said.
"Getting sidelined by some girl at the last minute - my feelings are hurt."
"I assure you that Echo is not 'some girl'" Adelle said. "You and she are cut from the same cloth."
"I've never gotten amnesia during a gig, but whatevs." Taffy said, sitting on the sofa.
"Three of your peers are locked in that vault with nothing between them and a SWAT team but you. There is no balm for a bruised ego like saving the day."
Taffy leant forward and smiled. "I'll need to see the cash."
"We're a bit pressed for time..."
Taffy's smile disappeared.
Adelle stuck a smile of her own on her face. "...Of course."
*
"This remote wipe," Topher told Ivy. "It's not about just creating five seconds of noise. He had to break into our system, which is impossible. He had to get Echo's cell number. He--"
"Or she." Ivy said.
"Or they. It has to be a 'they.' I mean look at this build." He said, motioning to the monitor. "It's not even science. It's art! You saw the firewalls."
"There are many." she agreed.
"I defy another programmer to put that much neurotrophic factor around each and every personality component. This isn't a lone gunman. This is a conspiracy. A gigantic, multi-pronged, conspiracy."
Ivy stared at him intently. "You need to take something."
Topher shook his head at her, grabbed the phone and dialed Boyd's number.
"What is it, Topher?" Boyd asked.
"When you took Echo out tonight, did she seem normal?"
"Yeah, why?"
Topher's eyes widened. "You don't know..."
"What's going on?"
"Echo's been wiped. Remotely."
"What--?!"
"It's not my fault!"
*
"Mr. Langton?" Adelle said into the phone.
"I talked to Topher."
Adelle nearly cursed. "If there were anything you could do, I'd already have you doing it."
"I didn't think remote wipes were even possible."
"Neither did we. You retrieved the target item?" she asked as Dominic showed the money to Taffy, who nodded her approval.
"Yeah, I got it. So how are you planning on getting her out of there?"
"We're working the problem."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm hopeful of a happy outcome."
"And if the outcome isn't... happy?"
Adelle sighed. "Then you should prepare yourself."
Boyd hung up, adelle returned to Dominic and Taffy. "We believe, with the right equipment," Dominic was sayng. "You could get inside the building through the roof."
"Oh, sweetie, equipment's not the issue. The Gray Hour is going to end in nine minutes. We won't even make it out of the parking garage." Taffy walked to the bar and poured herself a drink. "But if this Echo chick is as good as you say, brain fry aside, I don't need to get inside. All I need is a phone."
*
"I like sky." Echo said. She had sunk down next to Walton, who was growing ever paler, and was now observing another painting.
"Yeah, the blue kind." he said. "You mentioned."
"That's a mountain." she said, pointing.
Walton sighed. "Yep."
"...what's my name?"
"Taffy."
Echo looked at the mountain. "When I'm there, my name is something else.."
"Hand me that bag." Walton asked. Taffy dragged the duffel bag towards them. He began digging through it.
"What are you looking for?" Echo asked.
"A way out of here."
Something shiny caught Echo's eye. A silver canister with a ring on top. She out her finger in the ring--
and Walton snatched it from her hand. "Not to play with." he said sternly, sticking it in his pocket.
"There's an air duct back here." Vitas called from somewhere behind them.
"He's gonna find a way out of here." Echo observed.
Walton shook his head. "Vitas isn't gonna open that door." He opened a case with a syringe in it. "And I'm not gonna open that door. And you're definitely not gonna open that door." He indicated his computer. "They are gonna open the door. They're gonna take us to prison."
"What's prison?" Echo asked.
"...It's a place with no sky."
Echo looked at the mountain picutre's sky, worried.
"We're bad guys. When bad guys get caught, we don't get to see sky."
"I'm a bad guy?"
"You... are a talking cucumber." he said. He put the needle to the hand. "And I... am too broken to fix..."
In a flash, Vitas appeared and snatched the syringe away. "Oh, no, no, no, no, you don't get to take the easy way out! I'm lifting the no-kill order." Vitas grabbed the duffel bag and took a machine gun from within. "When those doors open... we're shooting our way out."
*
"Yumia Takahashi." Topher said.
Ivy joined him sitting on his office floor, juice box in hand. "You think he's one of the prongs in the mutli-pronged conspiracy."
"He's always gunning for my job, he loves the beach..."
"Here." she said, handing him the juice box. "You really think a programmer in Tokyo is going to remote-wipe Echo in Los Angeles to steal your job?"
"He shows DeWitt his mad skills, suddenly Topher's no longer 'Number One Son'!"
"Echo could die. That is not a plan for career advancement."
Topher sighed. "Anyway, Takahashi's a hack. There's only one person I know who could achieve a remote wipe. And he's dead."
Topher stared at his juice box.
*
"You know, this only works if she answers." Taffy pointed out.
"Dial again." Adelle ordered. "Keep dialling."
"I'd like to go over the plan again." Dominic insisted.
Taffy smiled at Adelle. "Nervous Nellie. He's actually kinda sweet. Okey-dokey: the vault door contains a whole mess of glass re-lockers. If somebody, me say, drills through the door from the inside, the glass breaks. Presto, alarm goes off, whole other mess of locks are released. No getting out."
"You bypass the glass." Dominic said.
"Resin. Makes it crack rather than shatter. If you do it right." she looked at her watch. "Well, this is about to be a giant anticlimax. Ten, nine, eight..."
"Dial again." Adelle said.
Taffy rolled her eyes and dialled again. "Seven, six, five..."
*
"Four," Vitas said. "Three..."
"Two?" Echo asked.
"One. It's over."
"I don't like this room anymore." Echo said, worrying. "Where are the better rooms? Oh... I have something in my pocket!"
She reached in and took the phone out, and showed it happily to Walton. "Look."
*
"It's over?" Adelle asked.
"It's almost over." Taffy informed her. "The security system's going back online one device at a time. The vault door, then the heat sensors, then the motion detectors. If I can get the vault door open before the motion detectors reactivate, we're all good."
Taffy stuck the phone on the dock, converting it to speakerphone.
*
"Is this the chowderhead?" a voice said in Echo's ear.
..."I don't know."
"Clearly, yes. Here's the dealio. I can get you out of that vault if you do exactly as I say. Can you do that?"
"I think so." Echo said.
"Underwhelming, but let's give it a go. You should be carrying a vial of resin. Bra's a good place."
Echo stuck her hand in her bra until she came out with a small vial. "I have it!" she said happily. Then you've also got a nozzle thingy tucked into your boot. Lipstick-like."
Echo rooted around in her boot as Walton and Vitas watched her. "Yes!"
"Screw one thingy onto the other thingy, and you're gonna need a drill." the voice said.
"She says we need a drill." she told the others.
"Who's 'she'?" Vitas asked.
"I don't know." Walton said. "But I'd give Taffy the drill."
"This is fun." Echo said as Vitas handed her the drill. It was heavy. "Are you having fun?"
"No."
"Go to the door." the voice said. "You'll want both hands." Echo put the phone on the floor and went to the vault door, still in hand. Vitas picked it up and out it on loudspeaker. "On three, start drilling into the door. Doesn't matter where."
Echo put the drill into position. "Ready."
"I'm going to close my eyes and pray to God that when I say stop, you will stop. One... two... ...three... drill!"
Echo began drilling--
"And stop. Spray the resin into the hole - three squirts. Count 'em out."
Echo began squirting. "One, two... three."
"Put the drill on the hole." the voice said. "Turn it on. Now this is the important part. Do not move your hand. Don't think about it. Do it."
Echo looked to Vitas. He just raised his eyebrows. Echo turned back to the door, put the drill in place, and began drilling.
A second later, the lights went out and a loud alarm started whirring.
"Is that good?" she yelled over the noise.
*
"Chowderhead!" Taffy said. "Talk to me." she turned to Adelle and Dominic. "This wouldn't have happened if you didn't give my job away."
"What's the police response time?" Dominic asked.
"Seven minutes. Guards inside, less. Six minutes, fifteen seconds less."
On the phone, someone called Echo a stupid bitch before the line went dead. Adelle bowed her head, silent.
"Taffy," she said after a moment. "Thank you for your services."
Taffy raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
Adelle nodded. "Mr, Dominic will take you down for your treatment."
Taffy took the briefcase full of money in her hand. "Thanks for the cash. Good luck with the girl."
"I'll notify Boyd." Dominic said. "He may have to neutralize her."
"No. I'm beginning to suspect he hasn't the proper distance. Send down for Ramirez and Hutchins. Put them on standby."
"...I'm sorry."
"Me, too."
Dominic followed Taffy out the door.
*
"The guards are closing in." Walton warned, staring at his laptop. Through the darkness, Echo could see he was still white as a sheet. Vitas was moving a bunch of crates to block the vault door. "Remember, your hands go over your head."
Echo out her hands over her head.
"Okay. Why?"
"Because you don't want the guards to put a bullet in your chest."
"Don't listen to him." Vitas said. "Take this." He handed her a gun and dragged her to the crates. "Get up. Point it at the bad guys and you squeeze the trigger."
"Aren't we the bad guys?"
"Down." he said. They both squatted behind the crates. "Remember what I told you? You get broken or you do the breaking."
Slowly, the vault door opened. Just metres away, a dozen guards ran to the walls for cover, guns at the ready.
"Come out slowly!" one called. "Let me see your hands! Let's go!"
"Start shooting," Vitas said. "Now." Echo realised he was pointing his gun at her. "Or I shoot you."
"I-I'd like to go now..."
"Let's see your hands!" the guard called. "There's no way out! Drop the weapon!"
"Do it." Vitas said.
"Building perimeter is locked down! Hands on your head!"
Echo bowed to her head, scared. Something caught her eye. The duffel bag was at her side, and the syringe was lying on top.
"Do it now!" Vitas screamed. "What are you waiting for? Do it!"
Echo snatched the syringe and stuck it in Vitas' neck. He screamed and fell over, his gun firing rapidly. The guards fired back, but Echo didn't see who was getting hit. She turned and ran for Walton, fell down at his side.
"Around the corner." he said, taking the strange canister from earlier from his pocket. "You can get out." With great difficulty, he stood, and chucked the canister at the guards. It went off with a bang, smoke shooting out. "Go." he ordered, wincing. "Go now; they won't be able to see you."
Echo didn't move. She couldn't just leave him here.
Walton deserved to see the sky.
*
Boyd shot the keypad and the door opened without complaint. Inside was a normal office, with a gaping joke in the wall. He was about to climb through it when he saw two figures emerging from the shadows.
Echo. Supporting a young man, who looked wounded.
"Are you okay?" Boyd asked.
"He's broken." she said. "Can we fix him?"
Boyd nodded. "We'll try." He threw the man over his shoulder and motioned for Echo to follow.
"I'm not broken." she said.
Boyd looked at her. "No, you're not. Come on. Let's get out of here."
Echo took a lingering look at the hole before following.
*
"What took you so long?" Lubov raged as Paul walked in the door. "There's a car out there. Two guys, motor on, fifteen minutes at least."
He followed Paul to the kitchen. "This is west Hollywood." Paul said. "Two guys in an idling car isn't news."
"So, who am I gonna be? Uh, John Smith, maybe? I got a good American accent."
"You're gonna be Anton Lubov." Paul said, pouring water in a kettle.
"I d- I don't get it."
"I may have misled you about the "me helping you." I needed you to stay put while I put you front and center on every 'be on the lookout' list from here to New York. If you try to leave Los Angeles by plane, train, or automobile, the FBI is going to be all over you. We won't be discreet. I'll personally drop you off at the Borodins' doorstep, make sure they know we're friends."
"Are you crazy?" Lubov said, voice filled with hysteria. "You want me to die?"
"I don't want you to die, but if you do, there's a lot to learn from a dead body. I know how the Russians kill. I know their favorite weapons. I know where to look for bruises. I know which body parts they like to chop off and what message they want a body to send." he said flatly.
"I tried to help you..."
"If your body turns up and tells a different story, well, then that'll give me information, too."
Paul pointed to the door.
"The FBI doesn't work like that..." Paul pushed him out of the kitchen and to the front door. "You ca- you can't do this!"
"I'm a screw-up, remember? My CI shows up dead, nobody's gonna blink. Nobody's gonna care."
Lubov froze in the doorway. "You put on your mean face, act tough, but you will care, Agent Ballard. That's your problem."
Paul shut the door.
*
Adelle fingered the tablet lightly, smiling. "Michelangelo believed his sculptures already existed inside the marble, waiting to be freed." she mused, before looking to Dominic. "We should get this to our clients' first thing in the morning."
"And the antiquities expert?" He asked.
"They can have him, too." Adelle said bitterly.
Dominic opened the door to see Topher standing there. Adelle nodded for him to come in as Dominic left. "So..." he said. "I put Echo through every test I could think of, which is a lot. The remote wipe didn't do any permanent damage, so... phew."
Adelle sat down. "Whatever happened... in Echo's head in that vault - it's gone?"
"She's fresh as morning dew. No pesky human evolution bits lingering around."
"Well done. I believe Victor has completed his debriefing. He's ready to be wiped."
Silence.
"It was Alpha, wasn't it?" Topher blurted. "Nobody else could come even close to pulling off a remote wipe. He's alive. He's out there."
Adelle slid a piece of paper across her desk. "You'll need to sign and initial at the bottom."
Topher stepped back. "Is this...? Am I fired?"
"I'm upping your security clearance." she said flatly.
"Does that mean... I'm right? Alpha's alive? He's out there? But after the... incident, you told us security tracked him down and, you know..."
"Our influence in substantial, but Alpha, with his gifts - gifts we gave him - finding him, confining him; we're not all-powerful."
"I'm scared. I'm scared like a little girl."
Adelle looked at him. "Sign and initial at the bottom." Topher grabbed a pen. "I'll tell you what I know about Alpha. You'll tell me how he did this and how we can keep him from ever doing it again."
*
When she got back, Echo went swimming. She swam for hours, sometimes just sinking to the bottom of the pool and sitting there until she needed to come up for air. When she was done she took a shower. As she was drying off, getting ready to go to bed, she looke in a mirror. It was covered in steam from the shower. She traced her finger on it lightly. Drawing. A woman with many faces, smashed together. Art.
Echo caught a glimpse of herself through the steam. She wiped it away and looked at her face. She remembered the mountains and the sky.
Prison was a place with no sky.
Echo looked up. There was no sky here.
Was this prison...?