Michelle Maddox - Countdown

He snorted and squeezed my hand. "In that case, I figure we have five minutes before they lock the place down. Sweeping the levels with full security … maybe another half an hour."

I felt a very small sense of relief. 'That's thirty-five minutes. Talk about luxury."

"Well, that's if we hadn't left two bodies-one dead and one unconscious-marking the staircase leading downstairs. You can cut that time in a quarter."

My heart sank. "That's not good."

"No."

"Dammit." I scanned every door we came to. Just as I was about to give up hope and take Rogan up on his offer to get the hell out of Dodge, my eyes widened. "Look." I pointed at the door that had a small brass plaque affixed to it.

G. ELLIS.

My hands trembled as I slid Colin's access card through the lock. The lights flickered red.

No entry.

I felt the color draining from my face. "It's not working."

"Try it again." Rogan's voice was strained, and he turned his head to scan the hallway. "And hurry."

I tried it again. Still no luck.

I let out a little sound of frustration as I slid it through for a third time. Then, as the red light flickered, I came to the sudden realization that I was sliding it the wrong way around. The metallic strip had to be down.

Mentally kicking myself, I flipped the card and tried it the other way around.

The light flickered green and I heard a click.

Rogan pushed the door open. It was dark inside. I felt the wall until I found the light pad, and I tapped it. The lighting flickered on, and I blinked as I gazed around at the room.

It didn't look anything like I thought it would. I expected a phalanx of computers, or at the very least one big one in the middle of the room. A desk. Maybe a potted plant. Joe said that this was Gareth's secondary office.

Instead it looked more like a lounge. A large black leather couch was in the middle of the room with Japanese-inspired folding screens on either side. There was an unusually large amount of religious-themed artwork- paintings, sculptures, and other fine art pieces depicting all forms of religions, from an ornate and bejeweled rosary on the wall to a large, golden laughing Buddha on a tabletop.

A large screen on the wall across from the couch displayed images of the outdoors. It looked similar to the "window" display that I had had in the reward room. Fakeness trying to appear real and almost succeeding. Behind me I heard a bubbling sound and turned to see that it was an elaborate water garden next to a Zen sand garden.

I eyed Rogan, and he must have seen my confusion.

"I totally agree," he said. "I wouldn't have guessed that a talking binary code needed a place to chill out."

"Joe said this is where the server was."

"Maybe he lied. Or maybe it's been changed since then, I don't see any server in here." The bluntness of his words didn't cover the disappointment in his voice. "Shit, why didn't Jonathan tell us more about his plan?"

"Probably because he never thought he'd need to." I touched Rogan's arm. "Now what the hell do we do?"

He shook his head and moved his gun back and forth between his hands. "I'm thinking."

"Maybe there's still time for us to escape. You know, live to fight another day."

Then, to destroy the Zen-like calm of the room, the earsplitting sound of an alarm filled the air.

"Or not!" I yelled.

I covered my ears and tried to concentrate. I looked at the display screen that was showing a swaying palm tree on a beach in front of a shimmering ocean. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore could barely be heard under the din of the alarm.

Fake. Just like Gareth. Gareth was a lot like that palm tree. He looked so natural, but underneath he was just a computer program.

I frowned. Just a computer.

"The screen." I pointed at it. "Do you think it's the server? Maybe he's got it set up like this to fool anybody who might want to destroy it."

Rogan looked at it, and his brow furrowed. "Give me the disk."

I walked over to him and reached into my bra to pull out the small computer disk. He took it from me, squeezing my hand as he did so.

"Let's hope like hell this works," he said.

But before he could move toward the display screen to insert it, a door to our left slid open and Gareth walked into the room. He was alone.

Rogan held his gun up in the direction of Gareth's head. Neither of us said a word.

"That's rude," Gareth said. "You don't even want to apologize to me for ruining my plans again?" His eyes narrowed, and he looked at the minidisk in Rogan's left hand. "Why are you in this room?"

"I heard this is where the waterfall was," Rogan said evenly. "I like waterfalls. They relax me."

Gareth smiled thinly. "Do you know how I found you so easily?"

"Security cameras," I said, feeling a sick churning in my stomach.

He shook his head. "My former employee Colin was able to disable all of them when he helped you escape. Like I said, he is a very talented person. Or rather, was a very talented person."

I glared at him.

"No," Gareth continued, and withdrew a remote-control device. "It's your implant, Rogan. The one I had Colin reactivate. I simply traced its signal."

"I'm going to shoot you," Rogan growled.

"No, you won't."

"Why? Because you're using my brother's body?" "No. Mostly because of that implant." He pressed a button on the remote.

Rogan dropped the gun and the disk and clutched his head. I touched his shoulder, his face.

"I can't move," he said after a moment when his arms dropped down to his sides. "It's like someone is holding me in place."

I eyed the remote in Gareth's grip, which was obviously connected to Rogan's implant.

Gareth sighed heavily. "Move away from him now, Kira."

When I didn't, he pushed another button and Rogan roared in pain.

"Fine." I took a few steps away from him. "Stop hurting him!"

He shook his head sadly. "Kira, I was going to be kind before and allow you to die peacefully and nonviolently, but now I'm not so sure about that."

I tried not to give away how afraid and panicked I felt at the moment; it would only give Gareth more fuel for the fire. But I couldn't help it. Everything I was thinking must have been etched into my expression, and my gaze flicked back to Rogan, who was frozen in place.

Gareth walked toward Rogan and bent over. He didn't bother with the gun and instead snatched up the minidisk. He slid it into the inner pocket of his jacket, and my heart sank. That was our one chance.

The alarm continued to blare, and he had to shout to be heard over it.

"That racket," he said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly." He walked over to a telephone, picked it up, and pecked in two numbers. "Turn that off," he said simply, and hung up the phone.

The noise ceased five seconds later.

"So," I began. Maybe if I got him talking it would give me enough time to figure out what to do next. "What's with all the religious stuff in here?"

He gazed around the room slowly. "My collection. I've been studying humankind in an attempt to understand them. So many faiths in this world and so many problems that difference has caused across the centuries and millennia. I plan to take the best of each one and form a single perfect religion in the future. Do you believe, Kira?"

"Do I believe?"

"In a greater power?"

I glanced at Rogan. "I… I don't know."

"You should, with the gift you've been given." Gareth folded his hands behind his back and walked a circle around me.

I stood as still as one of his expensive statues and felt his appraisal like cold, clammy hands on my skin. He came close enough that he was able to flick my dark hair back off my shoulder. He put his fingers against my throat. For a moment it seemed as if he was searching for a pulse.