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Back The Utopia Experiment Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Title Page
  2. Welcome
  3. Prologue
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. Epilogue
  81. About the Authors
  82. The Covert-One Novels
  83. Newsletters
  84. Copyright

Zellerbach did as he was told but squealed in pain from his injured butt when Smith floored the car up the dark street.

“Are you crazy!” the policeman said while his cruiser crept up to eighty in a twenty-five-mile-an-hour zone. “You’re never—”

“Shut up,” Randi said. “We just saved your ass. If you’d come up against that shooter he’d have killed you. And now, instead of making your wife a widow, he’s just going to disappear back into the woodwork.”

“I’m dying, Jon,” Zellerbach said. “I don’t have much more time. I want you to know how much our friendship has meant—”

“You’re not dying, Marty.”

“This is your fault,” he said, his mild schizophrenia flipping the switch from melodrama to anger. “Every time we get together something like this happens.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I never want to see you again.”

“Who the hell are you people?” the cop interjected.

Smith ignored him and dialed Klein again.

“Jon! Are you all right? What happened?”

“We’ve got problems and need a little of your magic.

“What kind of problems?”

“The good major sent people after us at Marty’s house. We’ve got a lot of shots fired and a police response. Two bodies in the house, one man unconscious in the tunnel below the bathroom, and at least two men still fully operational.”

“Understood. Are the three of you all right?”

“We’ll live. But we’re headed west out of DC in a stolen police cruiser.”

“What happened to the cop?”

“That’s a whole other problem. He’s in the backseat with Randi.”

67

67

Near Washington Circle, District of Columbia
USA

THE DARK COMPUTER MONITOR turned gray and then a hazy white as Christian Dresner moved hesitantly closer.

“Lieutenant!” he shouted, though he knew the man’s Merge would automatically adjust the volume to a conversational level. “Wake up!”

Through Deuce Brennan’s feed, he’d seen his orders carried out and Whitfield executed. But then the situation had devolved into chaos as Randi Russell attempted to attack and then collapsed for no apparent reason. Smith had fallen a moment later, followed by Brennan’s feed losing cohesiveness and then going black despite a strong network connection.

There was little doubt that Zellerbach was responsible. He’d backed away in panic, as could be expected, but then picked up something. The playback wasn’t entirely clear, but it looked like a television remote control.

Brennan’s tooth mike was active again but the sounds coming through it were badly distorted. The audio slowly sharpened, and after a few seconds was clear enough to decipher. Gunshots. And approaching sirens.

“Lieutenant!” Dresner shouted again. “Get up!”

The image on the monitor came into focus and then moved unsteadily from the blank white of the ceiling to Zellerbach’s Cray, and finally the door leading to the hallway.

“Lieutenant!”

Finally, there was a response. “I’m here. What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. You need—”