Читать книгу Survival Gene. Science Fiction Novel - Artsun Akopyan - Страница 12

Walking to the elevator, Andrew looked out a window.

The ocean kept receding. Since he and Emily had entered the hacker’s study, the shoreline had moved about two hundred meters further to the horizon.

The professor said that water is moving to the poles. It’s hard to imagine what’s going on in the northern territories.

The elevator doors opened. Letting the girl enter, Barkov followed her and turned back.

Lorenzetti was standing in the doorway of his study staring into space.

“Farewell,” Andrew said.

Lorenzetti seemed to pay no heed to it, his eyes glassy. Barkov pressed the “Down’ button. The doors closed and the elevator started moving.

The box slid out of the wall. The female voice announced, “Thank you for your visit. You may take your weapon.”

Taking the pistol, Andrew checked to be sure the cartridges were in place, and shoved the pistol back into the holster.

“Do you have a plan how to release my father?” Emily asked.

Andrew knew now that what Emily had told him about the Earth’s crisis had been true. Now he had to fulfill his promise to help her release her father; besides, her father would be valuable if they had any chance of survival. He knew that Eddy Housman was in the pretrial prison built a few years before in what used to be a parking lot in the center of Miami.

“Yes, I have a plan. First, I’ll enter the prison.”

“Do you have a permit?”

“No, but I’ve been there many times. I know the location.”

“Will you try to get my father by force?”

Andrew imagined Captain Palmer. He would knock out the captain with pleasure by hitting his chin with a good blow with right fist. But what to do to the others? To those Andrew had been working with all these years? They had helped him more than once in times of need – some of them by saying kind words, others by covering him with fire.

I can’t hurt those people.

“No. There must be another way.”

“What then?”

Andrew didn’t have a solution. He needed some time to think it over.

Suddenly he felt a chill in his feet. The feeling strengthened quickly. Shivers ran up his legs, spine, neck… In his mind’s eye, the picture flashed up: a dozen cops were standing before the elevator doors, weapons at the ready. The safety was released, forefingers touching the trigger…

Barkov grabbed his holster, but pulled his arm away at once. I will not shoot at my colleagues.

The elevator stopped and the doors moved apart.

“Don’t move!” one of the police shouted. “Hands up!”

Emily uttered a loud scream and jerked up both hands. Andrew froze looking over the policemen. He knew three of them: two worked in headquarters, one in the southwest department. Captain Palmer showed himself from behind a policeman’s back.

Barkov was glad to see him again – the second time in his life.

“Captain, it’s me! Order them to lower their guns!”

“I can decide myself what to order, lieutenant,” Palmer replied. “Come out over the elevator. You are under arrest!”

Guess it was too early to be glad.

“What for?”

“We’ve got orders from above. I’ve always known you can’t be trusted! Where’s the third terrorist?”

Barkov guessed the problem. The White House Secret Service technologies had proved to be much more sophisticated than Lorenzetti had believed. The virtual sergeant saw not only the hacker who was inside the 3D image, but also the detached onlookers.

“We’re not the terrorists! And there are only two of us,” Andrew answered.

“Come out of the elevator!” the policeman standing before Palmer ordered.

Barkov had never been in the position of a criminal before. The feeling was very unpleasant.

Maybe it’s all for the best. According to protocol, they must take us to the pretrial prison. I’ll be able to find Housman there.

“I can close the doors, and we’ll return to the penthouse,” Emily whispered.

“No,” Andrew answered in a quiet voice.

He raised his hands slowly and stepped out of the elevator.

“Turn around!” the same cop commanded.

Barkov turned round.

The cop ran up to him, put Andrew’s hands behind his back, and slapped on electronic bracelets that clenched automatically. Then he pulled Andrew’s pistol out of the holster.

“Now you, lady! Come out of the elevator!”

Emily fulfilled his order without uttering a word. The policeman put handcuffs on her wrists, too.

“Guys, listen to me,” Andrew said. “We are not terrorists. We just know too much. In two hours, the President of the World will be on e-vision and announce evacuation to green zones. But what he will not say that it’ll be impossible to survive even in the green zones if the earth stops rotating completely. I have an idea how we can save our lives!”

“Stop talking crap!” Captain Palmer snapped out. “You were going to blow up this building, confess to it!”

“What?”

“You’ve had your eye on my position all these years. So you decided creating a fake terrorist attack that would get me ousted, proving I couldn’t prevent crimes in my area!”

“Captain, you are paranoiac. Consult a doctor!”

Palmer came up to Andrew. Having checked if the bracelets held Barkov’s wrists tightly, he took the arrestee by his shoulders and turned him round. Andrew saw that the captain’s face twitched with emotion.

“At last, I can do what I’ve been dreaming of for so long!”

“What’s that?” Barkov inquired, knowing the answer already, his senses showing action and reaction.

The captain clenched his fist and threw his arm upward aiming at Andrew’s chin. Barkov moved aside letting the fist fly past him, and struck the captain’s groin with his shin. Palmer moaned, clutched his groin and folded up.

At the very same second Andrew realized that had been unwise. He shouldn’t have resisted. On the contrary, he should have feigned fear and dejection. And even to gratify Palmer’s wish – let him strike him once. In the pretrial prison, meek inmates were allowed to the common canteen and gym where he could see Housman!

Too late, his mistake caused blows to rain on him from all quarters. Andrew tried to evade the most dangerous of them. The cops knocked him down, kicking his back, stomach and head. Green spots danced in his eyes.

“Stop it!” Emily screamed. “You’ll kill him!”

The blows stopped and two of the cops hurried into the elevator, ready to retrieve the third terrorist.

“Captain, the elevator won’t go,” a policeman said. “It requires us to deposit our weapons!”

Palmer replied, “Don’t deposit anything! Six of you, climb the stairs, penetrate through the roof, the sewage system, whatever, and get the third member of the gang for me! Meanwhile, we’ll take these two to the prison. Detectives, take them to the car!”

Cops grasped Andrew’s arms and led him and Emily across the foyer to the exit. The concierge and the couple sitting in armchairs followed them with frightened eyes.

Before the building, there was a long line of police cars. The prisoners were put into a van with long, narrow slit-like windows. Palmer and one of sergeants Andrew didn’t know sat down on opposite seats.

Barkov came to his senses fairly quickly. His whole body was aching, but fortunately, there were neither fractures nor displacements.

“Don’t even think of escaping,” the captain warned as he took out his pistol and put it on his hip, the barrel towards Andrew. “I am ordered to bring you in dead or alive. And I’ll do it, have no doubts!”

Police alarm signals started howling. The van set out accompanied by several other cars. The columns in the form of sea horses and the flowerbed with the condominium name passed by.

Barkov made one more attempt to explain the situation. “Captain, a global disaster awaits us. You must not stay in Miami. You and your family must…”

“Shut up!” Palmer shouted, raising his gun. “If you say one more word, I’ll shoot a hole in your bean!”

This man had never been particularly bright. All he knew to do was execution of higher-ups’ orders, and he required the same thing from his subordinates. Fool. So much the worse for you.

Turning to Crandon Boulevard, the convoy of vehicles moved faster. In about three minutes, the Biscayne Key island disappeared behind them as the cars entered the bridge to Virginia Key.

Water had left the Biscayne Bay almost completely. Now it was an uneven field covered with dark green algae. Only in some points of the field were there small blue backwaters.

“They want to shoot you,” she looked directly at Palmer, “and to question us,” Emily said suddenly as she took her eyes off the window and looked at the captain.

Palmer stared at her for some time in silence. Finally, he reacted, “What are you babbling on about?”

She turned her head to Barkov and re-stated, “They want to kill them,” her eyes shifted quickly to Palmer and back to Andrew, “and to interrogate us.”

Her voice sounded even, but there was extreme tension in it.

“Where’s the information coming from?” Andrew asked, remembering the girl’s ability to hear electromagnetic waves.

“From above.”

“What do you mean by ‘above’?”

“We must run away,” she looked at Palmer again. “Stop the car now!”

Captain’s eyes widened. “What? We are sitting with guns in our hands and you are in handcuffs. Why are you trying to give me orders?”

“Ah yes, handcuffs!” the girl mumbled, as if changing her mind.

Barkov felt that the bracelets on his wrists suddenly slackened. He could cast them off. Not yet. He needed to pick the right moment.

The drone of a motor was heard from the ocean on the east side of the bridge. The sound increased quickly. In a few moments, it was clear that a helicopter was approaching.

Barkov tipped his head to one side trying to see the aircraft in the sky. The window was too narrow. He just managed to spot a formless shadow sweep past on the asphalt. The roar of the rotors made the seat vibrate for a few seconds. A bit later, the van braked abruptly.

Pressing a button on a transmitter fastened to his shoulder, Palmer said in irritation, “Why have we stopped?”

“Captain, the way is blocked,” came the answer. “A helicopter is landing.”

“Damn! It must be the higher-ups. Sergeant, watch the prisoners.”

Palmer opened the door. Putting his head out, he looked around and jumped out of the van. The cop who stayed in the van took his weapon out of his holster and put it on his hip – just the way the captain had done before.

Barkov discerned chatter of one more helicopter coming from the east. It couldn’t be seen through either of the windows or the open door, but judging by its powerful and even noise, it hovered somewhere over the end of the police cars line.

We’re being squeezed in the vice, he guessed.

No doubt, those were representatives of the secret service. Had they decided to stop a possible leak of information by shooting the local cops? Unlikely. Law enforcement agencies couldn’t be at war with each other. Most probably, Emily had misunderstood something.

“Did you hear their conversations mentally?” he asked forcing his voice over the noise of helicopters.

“Yes!” Emily replied. “It was a secret service agent who talked to a certain General Larsson.

“What did they – ”

The sergeant raised his gun. “Stop talking! Otherwise, I’ll plug a hole in your beans!”

The guy was young. Obviously, he had graduated from the Police Academy recently and was trying to imitate the captain. Andrew had been like that in the past. If what Emily said is correct he won’t be able to grow up.

“Listen, sergeant,” Andrew began, “this girl has a gift. There might be truth in – ”

“Silence!” the policeman commanded sternly.

“…her words,” Andrew continued.

“Silence!” the sergeant shouted even more sternly.

Palmer appeared in the doorway.

“Come out!” he ordered loudly.

Barkov knew his boss very well. If the man had decided something, it was impossible to dissuade him. Grasping the bracelets so that they didn’t slip off, Andrew stood up and got off the van. Emily followed him.

The convoy, as he could see now, consisted of five police electromobiles: three cars before the van and one behind it. A helicopter had landed and was blocking the way in front of the first vehicle. Its blades kept rotating. The side door was open and a multi-barreled machine gun was stuck out of it. Behind the machine gun, a man wearing an olive drab uniform and a helmet sat pointing it towards them. On one side, in front of the helicopter, there stood two men in civilian clothes.

Behind the convoy, an attack aircraft was hovering. A gun was in the fore part of its fuselage, rockets glittered under the wings. Such helicopters were called “flying tanks’ unofficially. No more than two dozen of them were left in the world. In theory, their task was supporting special mission units when they suppressed riots or destroyed terrorists’ bases, but in reality they had not been used for a long time as there was no such need in the restructured world order.