John Shirley - Watch Dogs - Dark Clouds

“Steer away from it!” Starling said.

Wolfe pointed a gun at the pilot’s head. “You change course I’ll blow your brains out. I can pilot this piece of junk.”

The pilot froze in his seat. “But—it’s going to hit us!”

“Yeah. Unless Starling does the right thing it’ll hit us in a little more than than,, forty-five seconds. Look at it, Starling! It’s coming!”

Starling stared out the windshield at the oncoming drone. It was getting bigger. Heading for them as if in a vengeful mechanistic fury. “You won’t let it hit us, Wolfe! You’d die too! The plane will crash and…”

“Yes. I will. We’re still over the Lake. Screw it, let’s all go down together right now. Tell you the truth I think I’m bleeding to death, anyway. Let’s go out with a bang, Starling. We’ve got control of one drone. No time to deal with the others so we’ll just crash that one into this…”

“It’s gonna hit us!” the pilot yelled. “It’s getting close! ”

“Verrick is dead,” Wolfe said. Everything was spinning. He was afraid he was going to lose consciousness at any moment. “Who’s your boss now, Starling? It’s me, now! You deactivate those drones right now. And then you land this thing, and I won’t tell them about the thing with Bullock—he was a dirt bag anyway. I’ll tell ’em you’re a valuable man. You won’t do much time… I’m your new commander. And I’m giving you three seconds to make up your mind…”

The drone was headed for the windshield…

“Sir yes sir,” Starling said.

And he turned to the drone command interface, hit the deactivate button.

The oncoming drone wavered, then lost power, and went diving downward, spiraling into Lake Michigan.

“Wolfe!” Pearce said. “The drones—they’re going down!”

The pilot said. “We’ve got two fighter jets on us…”

“Cargo jet 322,” said a voice over the radio. “This is Air Force Interceptor 2441, you are now required to head for runway 3, immediately. That is immediately, proceed on a heading to land at runway 3, or we will open fire…”

The pilot banked toward the runway. Wolfe shoved the Pearcephone deep in his pants. They’d have to really dig for it…

“What now,” Starling said. “What happens now?”

“Now , Starling,” Wolfe said, struggling to remain on his feet. “We’re going down and you’re going to surrender and tell the people what Verrick was up. That’s an order. From me. So…” The black tornado was sucking at him. Drawing him in. His own voice sounded so distant in his ears. “So… just you… turn around in your seat, Starling, and you let the pilot land this thing, and you surrender to the nice people, or I’ll knock you… I’ll knock you…”

He didn’t manage to say that last word out loud.

Unconscious.

He heard voices, just penetrating the thick pearly gray fog that enveloped the world.

“He came close…” Some strange male voice. Maybe a touch of Asian accent to it. “…but he is a strong, resilient man, and the wounds themselves weren’t so bad. It was all that blood…”

“He still need transfusions?” It was Seline’s voice.

“No. We were basically out of his blood type but a rather odd man came in. He, ah, was, strikingly deformed. Said he’d just had his first bath in a year and could he give blood for Mr. Wolfe and…”

“That would be Blank.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind. Go on.”

“Well, we tested the man’s blood, it was safe to use, it was the right type, and… he didn’t have any identification but… it was an emergency and we took a chance… I really think he saved Mr. Wolfe’s life…”

“Who says I’m not dead,” Wolfe said. His voice came out a rasp. He was looking around but not seeing much. Just blurry silhouettes. One of the silhouettes was definitely shaped like Seline.

“I say so, Mick,” Seline said, sitting down beside Wolfe. He felt her hand on one of his. Her touch was cool, but there was a sweet warmth in it too. “You’re alive. I’m taking your pulse right now. Yep, there it is. Pretty strong.”

“Am I…” He swallowed. His throat seemed gummed up.

“Here—you want some water?”

He felt her left his head a little; felt a paper cup of water at his lips. He drank. It was a beautiful taste. Just cool water.

“Thanks.” He lay back and asked. “Am I under arrest? I mean—is there… did they…”

“It’s complicated, Wolfe. There were bodies on the plane. But… seeing as you saved a city… of course that’s still under discussion. There are people wondering if you might be the guy who…” She bent near his ear and whispered, so closely, he could feel her breath tickle. “…who stole a helicopter and crashed it. I told them no way was that you.”

“Thanks. You’re a great… character witness.”

She chuckled, and sat up. “They aren’t sure. Then there was that Federal Building mess… But Starling is talking. He says you gave him orders to talk—so he’s talking. You really psyched him out, Wolfe. And our mutual friend, Aiden, is using all his contacts on your behalf. And so is DedSec. And the SystemsLeak thing has really gone viral. That vindicates you and makes Verrick look like the creep he was. So with a little luck…”

“I…” He looked around. His eyes almost cleared, for a moment. Then the darkness closed in again. “…gave up on luck… Till I…”

He squeezed her hand. Then he lost consciousness again.

“The testimony of Mr. Starling, and the information from the drone recovered from the lake seems to confirm the story provided by Mr. Wolfe’s lawyers regarding the planned attack on Chicago. The District Attorney declines to prosecute Mick Wolfe, citing…”

Wolfe turned off the radio. “Hey nurse!” he shouted.

He found the button to call her. A minute later a fairly large cocoa-colored nurse with dyed-blond cornrows came into the room. “Who’s hollering in here? That you again, Mick? Did I not tell you to get some rest?”

“Done resting, Martha. I need you to take this IV out of my arm. I’m free to go, no more cops watching my room. I feel better. I can leave.”

“And you got a medical degree when?”

“It’s just common sense, Martha. I know why you’re keeping me here, really. And I don’t blame you. Women cannot resist me. But you have a wedding ring. It wasn’t meant to be.”

She laughed. “Oh listen to him! Now you got to go! I’ll ask the doctor…”

But it was almost two hours before he was out of the hospital, standing on the corner, on a sunny but cold winter afternoon, wondering what had become of his PearcePhone. He could get a standard phone. He knew Seline’s number. He wondered if it was the right thing to call her. Purity, in some form, was still out there. It was being investigated. Iceberg Investments had been shut down. Starling’s testimony had led to Marlon Winters being arrested. But there were still a lot of Purity members out there, most of them under cover. They had reason to hate Mick Wolfe. If they were after him—Seline would be in the crossfire. If, that is, she even wanted to be around him.

He’d thought she’d whispered something to him, while he was semi comatose… something about wanting—

“Mick! I’ve been looking for you, you idiot!”

Seline was walking up to him. She wore a long blue coat, something retro, like you’d expect to see Barbara Stanwyck wear in a 1940s movie, and a matching hat.

“Seline. Hi. I was just wondering if I should call you.”

“Wondering if! What a…”