Dangerous Code Read online

  My partner grins. To anyone else that would seem calm but I know differently. For one thing, his jaw is clenched tight on a wad of gum. For another, he rakes a hand over his buzz cut.

  “That application of hers called me. It said and I quote, I am confused.”

  “No shit?” I recall every bad robot movie since the dawn of time and a shiver runs up and down my spine.

  “Apparently, Doctor Jones has a newer, better, version of Jason, not the one we know about in our servers at HQ. She’s still testing it.”

  “Yeah, she told me that last night. She even installed it on my phone.” I leave out the fact I’m quite sure she left it installed on our network.

  “Hmm. Okay, get this. Jason called me. Asks me to download an app into my cell phone. Told me to tell no one. But now that I have it, it talks in circles and won’t tell me where she is.” He taps the monitor in his dash. “Colin? Meet Jason.”

  I assume the car’s mic is connected to Joe’s Bluetooth. “We’ve already met. Jason? Are you there?”

  “Yes, Colin. I hear you. How can I help you?” A young man in his twenties pops onto the screen, his mouth perfectly in sync with the audio.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was real. Then I try to recall Megan’s warning. Something about not feeding it after midnight. “Why are you confused?”

  “I have conflicting directives. I’m in stealth mode and yet Jenna is in danger.” The virtual man is pretty disturbing when it frowns.

  I share a glance with Joe, mirroring my own discomfort. He says, “Jason, play the audio from Doctor Jones’ apartment this morning.”

  The virtual young man blinks vapidly while Megan’s voice cracks, sobbing in the background. “I don’t ever want to see Detective Colin O’Brien again. Go into stealth mode. Call Dan Chiang. Tell him I’m out of the country.”

  What did I do wrong? After making love and talking for hours, I assumed we were good. She even smiled sweetly when I kissed her goodbye this morning.

  My gut clenches when it dawns on me. “She overheard your call this morning, didn’t she?”

  My partner’s face is grim. “Sorry. I had no idea she monitored her airwaves.”

  At Fifty Seventh, I vent some of my frustration at an entitled prick who refuses to give way to our flashing light and siren. “Move it. Now!”

  My voice booms in the car’s loudspeaker and echoes against the store fronts. Then the moron pulls to the curb, lucky I’m too busy to give him a ticket but I know I’m not pissed at him. I’m pissed at Drew. I can just imagine what Megan might think about starring in his latest porn show. No wonder she ran. More than ever, I need to make this right, and fast. Then after Jason plays back the audio a few more times, I pick up on stealth-mode, and ask for clarity.

  Jason says, “In stealth mode, all references to Jenna Jones are to be eradicated from the internet. Should I elaborate?”

  No wonder Joe hasn’t made any progress in finding her. “Can I ask you where she is?”

  “You can ask but I cannot answer you.” Blink. Blink.

  Is this thing messing with me? It can’t be. Right? “What does Doctor Jones do when you’re confused?”

  “We converse.” Jason stares out of the monitor, virtual face creepy.

  Oh man, I’m so over my head it’s unbelievable. I’m shouting at a computer program. “Jenna Jones is in danger. She could die if you don’t tell us where she is.”

  Blink. Jason’s face frowns. “I sense there is urgency. Should I execute 911 override?”

  Did I inadvertently stumble onto something? “What? What’s that?”

  “It is a priority override where the most important objective is saving the life of Doctor Jenna Jones.”

  The hairs on my arm stand on end. I hope I won’t be sorry. “Do it. Turn on the 911 override.”

  “Done.” Blink. Blink. Blink. Smile.

  I edge forward on my seat and ask again, “So Jason, where’s Jenna?”

  Google Maps pops up with a red directional dark line into the Poconos. Then the screen zooms into a satellite view of a Day’s Inn.

  Jason says, “She’s in room two-oh-one.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I’m not buying it. “Does the parking lot of the motel have surveillance cameras?”

  “Yes, but the video is not connected to the internet.” Blink. Smile.

  “Can you turn on their cell phones? Can we listen in? Can we see what’s going on?” I’ve no idea what this AI unit can do but I’m beginning to respect Meggie more and more.

  The video on the dashboard displays the face of a brown man looking into his computer camera. Behind his head there’s a double bed and some flowery art on the wall but no Megan.

  On my iPad, I find the motel and study the hotel room’s layout. It’s pretty typical with two double beds, a desk, and a dresser. Still with time on my hands, I ask Jason to playback the audio from the beginning. When she cries out in pain, I fume, determined to kick some ass. Then I hear something that doesn’t sound quite right.

  “Go back. Demon? Did one of the terrorists just call her a demon?

  “What’s up?” Joe raises his eyebrows, but with eyes on the road which I appreciate.

  “The kidnappers keep referring to someone else in charge, someone not in the car with them. And they wanted her phone.” I shudder involuntarily.

  “That can’t be good.” He shakes his head, frowning as the knot in my gut tightens.

  I shouldn’t’ve slept with her and I shouldn’t be distracted by visions of her naked body. As we drive over the George Washington Bridge, under us, a yacht speeds past a tugboat on the Hudson River.

  “You look like crap.” Joe accelerates, veers off onto I-95, and shoots me another of his famous glowers.

  “And just how is that helpful?” I don’t want to get into it with him but I will.

  “I need to know you’ve got your head in the game.” His eyes flick off the road.

  “What’s wrong with you? Have you ever had to worry?”

  He grunts, not convinced and that pisses me off but he’s right to be concerned. What kind of idiot falls for a woman after one night and then has to rescue her? How had I let this happen?

  Because I broke my rules. That’s how.

  Joe sighs. “I haven’t seen you care about a woman since you broke up with Charlene.” He uses my ex’s name, instead of the agreed upon term, lying bitch.

  “For cryin’ out loud, I didn’t ask Jones to marry me. We had sex. That’s all.” I lie.

  My partner is right. I care about Megan McCarthy AKA Jenna Jones. She got under my skin, an itch I’ll need to scratch, probably again and again. Maybe it will last, maybe it won’t.

  Joe drives without saying much more. Like me, until last night, he was on sabbatical from all women. He’s still smarting from his ugly divorce. His ex-wife didn’t cheat, she just never told him how unhappy she was. When the papers showed up in the mail, he was stunned.

  I don’t know what’s worse, a cheating whore or a heartbreaker, so I shut up and watch the traffic on the interstate. The local joke is that eighty is not only the route number, it’s the speed limit. With that, we should make it across New Jersey in less than an hour.

  Suddenly, my partner darts around two eighteen-wheelers, a mini Cooper, and a SUV and my foot stomps on the floor like I had a brake pedal “Joe, slow down!”

  The Ford bounces back into the fast lane and as if we hadn’t just bit the big one, he asks calmly, “Do you think Jones could be in on this? A suspect?”

  I’ve been wondering when he was going to ask that. “Highly unlikely. She’s got mild Asperger’s. Can’t read people worth crap and just as bad at lying. Makes for a lousy criminal.”

  Joe grunts. “Perfect for screwing, though, right?”

  I glare in his direction, wanting to tell him to shut up but then he’d know how deep I’m into her. For the umpteenth time I play back every word of every con
versation with her last night. Despite the seriousness, I smile at how good the sex was, and how sweet she was after. Those and thoughts like it linger until my cock gets hard.

  I need to refocus on the case and change the subject. “Who’s interrogating the terrorists?”

  Joe raises his eyebrows, still driving like a madman. “FBI’s got the ball and Georgio’s hiding out at your place. He said he doesn’t want anyone else to know about Jason-five-point-one-point-three. He’s going to call us as soon as he finds out anything useful.”

  The screen in the dash goes dark, I tap on it, and then check for bars. “We just lost Jason. There’s probably no signal in these mountains.”

  With about an hour left to the hotel, I don’t like that there’s some tension between us. “Listen, Joe. You’re right. I got a thing for her. I knew Doctor Jones as Megan McCarthy when I was seventeen and she must’ve been around thirteen.”

  “Yikes. Robbing the cradle much?”

  “It wasn’t like that. I haven’t thought of her in years. Remember how I told you I was a counselor at a fat camp in New Hampshire one summer?”

  “She was there? Heavy?” He shakes his head back and forth no doubt trying to imagine the stunning genius as a fat camp kid.

  “Yeah. I looked out for her, like a little sister.”

  “Still creeping me out, friend.”

  “She was cute. A chubby, geeky kid. A pre-teen computer nerd. So listen up, I went over there last night to get more intel on Jason. Like I said, she doesn’t lie well and I didn’t believe she gave me the whole story in the restaurant. Anyhow, when I get there, get this, she seduces me.”

  “Riiigght.” My very good friend snorts out a guffaw.

  Whatever. At least the air is cleared. I’ll have to convince him later.

  We chat for a while about his new apartment, avoiding the subject of his ex. I’m liking the way he’s getting on with his life. About a week ago, he took off his ring and her picture disappeared off his desk. I know he wanted kids and she didn’t and wonder if that was at the root of their divorce.

  I get a vision of redheaded girls with green eyes clinging to my legs. Whoa! More premonitions like that and I’ll need a CAT scan.

  While we talk, Joe almost misses the exit onto Route 299. A few miles down the road, I point to a bright yellow sun atop a twenty foot pole. Then Jason pops up, connecting to the hotel’s Wi-Fi. I’m actually relieved to have him back.

  I ask it to call the receptionist, explain that law enforcement is outside, and that we’ll need the key to room 201. After that, I take a deep breath, Joe nods, and we stroll casually toward the neon office sign.

  A big man, about forty, hands us a key card from behind the front desk. “Outside, upper floor, to your right.”

  I can’t help but wonder if we did the right thing by relying on Jason for Megan’s location. What if it’s wrong? But it’s too late for regrets as I knock and step away from the front of the door. Footsteps approach and pause. When there’s no spray of bullets, I assume we’re good to go.

  Joe directs me with two fingers to his eyes. He’s going to take the front and wants me to have the side. He swipes the key card, the LED goes green, and I kick in the door,

  “NYPD!” My peripheral vision catches one suspect reaching for his gun.

  “Don’t do it.” Joe gives the man fair warning but the moron doesn’t yield and ends up with a bullet through the heart.

  A second suspect exits the bathroom and tries to pull out a gun. With a quick crescent kick, the weapon goes flying and my other foot connects with his skull. He drops to the carpet unconscious and Joe kicks the gun out of reach with one eye focused on the outside door.

  We’re missing one kidnapper.

  While Joe has my back, I rush across the room. Meggie’s lying on the bed, eyes closed and my heart stops until I check her pulse. It’s strong but her bruises make me see red. By the time I cut the ties off her bloody wrists, I want to kill someone.

  Weak arms reach out to me and she moans.

  “I got you, Meggie.” I pull her to my chest, kiss her forehead, and check for injuries. She’s got a nasty bump on her head and maybe a broken rib.

  Joe checks the idiot who refused to yield and shakes his head. “He gave me no choice.” Then he squats beside the other. “He’s still alive. Off your game?”

  “I pulled my punch on purpose. We need to question him. Where’s the third kidnapper?”

  “Not here.” My partner frowns, watching out the door with gun in hand.

  I grab a water out of the fridge and tap her cheek lightly. “Megan? Doctor Jones? Answer me. Are you okay?”

  “Ow.” She puts a hand to her cheek. “Where am I? What happened?”

  Cupping the back of her head, I place the bottle to her swollen lips. She swallows, coughs and focuses with one eye, the other swollen.

  “Meggie? C’mon now. You with me?” Dammit. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t slept with her, she wouldn’t’ve been out in the street this morning. She would’ve been in bed doing yoga, or writing code.

  “Colin?” Moaning, she scoots up onto her elbows.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Do you remember what happened? Are you hurt?” I swear I’ll find a way to kill the bastards if they touched her.

  “I was kidnapped, right? I can’t wake up.” She moves all of her fingers and bends her elbows and knees. “I think I’m okay.”

  There’s no easy way to ask so I keep it plain. “Were you raped?”

  Her lips purse into the shape of an ‘oh,’ and although it seems impossible, she pales to a lighter shade of gray and her hand slides between her legs. Then she shakes her head no.

  Thank fuck.

  Joe, standing in the doorway, throws me his keys and tosses me her cell phone. “You should get her out of here and into a hospital.”

  Good to know that we’re on the same page. I cradle her in my arms, rush down the stairs, and across the parking lot. After I buckle her into the passenger seat, she sits up tall, eyes darting wildly, and starts talking some gibberish about some Arab.

  She turns the key on in the ignition. “Go. Go. Before he finds us.”

  When her fingertips dig into my arm, her eyes not quite sane, I figure I’ll take her to the local hospital and get her on some meds. As I pull out of the lot, I swing wide to avoid a Chrysler van.

  “Oh my God. It’s him,” she squeaks out in a child-like voice.

  Then Megan, maybe one of the most intelligent women in the world, ducks under my dash with knees to her chin.

  “Did he see me?”

  Chapter 12

  Mahmoud Teherizad barely avoids hitting a dark Ford as he drives his rented van into the hotel parking lot. Everything is proceeding brilliantly and according to plan. After years of waiting, his lost protégé will again be under his control and she’ll pay dearly.

  His dick hardens as he imagines how he’ll beat her with his fists. Then he’ll bang her until she gives him brilliant babies. She’ll bow before his father and beg for forgiveness. She’ll have to say that what happened years ago was consensual. Certainly, at sixteen or seventeen, she was old enough to know her own mind.

  My disgrace will be at an end and my father will welcome me back into his home.

  He realizes he’s been silent for too long when six pairs of eyes stare at him. It’s time. Mercenaries in full combat gear don’t come cheap. They wait on his signal.

  Teherizad picks up his phone and puts it on speaker. “Where is Doctor Jones?”

  “I do not know.” The artificial intelligence application answers, voice human-like.

  One of the men in the van snickers and another swears in Farsi.

  “Speak details of her last known position.” Teherizad can almost feel her between his loins again, screaming for him to stop.

  “Room two-oh-one.”

  He grins despite his unease, turns to his small army and says, “Move out. Remember, she’s not to be harmed.”

  Automati
c weapons bulge under long gray rain coats as six men quietly ascend the outside stairway. Teherizad follows, shaking with excitement, his boner hard. However, when the door swings open, he moans, and his cock goes soft. It’s empty except for two bodies.

  The whore-genius is gone? Impossible. How had this happened?

  The leader of the armed men, Mr. Smith, kicks at the two kidnappers lying motionless on the floor. Another checks pulses and shakes his head at the one with a bullet in the chest. Smith shoots the one that’s still breathing while the rest of his men hover nervously outside.

  Then with a quick gesture, they all pile single-file back into the van.

  “What are you waiting for? Drive.” Smith frowns, brows furrowed.

  Teherizad flashes him an equally annoyed look, choking back his rage. “You’re not done. Do you see Jones sitting here? That’s what I paid you for.”

  “You’re more trouble than you’re worth. Pay us and we disappear. Do not and die.” The weapon in Smith’s lap has a hair trigger.

  “No insult intended. However, you found only two of the three kidnappers. One is still alive.” Mahmoud Teherizad gives a saccharine smile, meeting the assassin’s dark stare.

  As soon as this is over, I will kill him.

  “Fine.” Smith motions to the man sitting directly behind him. “Find him.”

  With hand resting on his gun, the insolent dog says, “You told us this was a simple deal. In and out. Someone else was in that room. A professional. That was not part of our agreement.”

  “I pay you well for your troubles.” Teherizad grinds his teeth, not about to admit to this hired thug that he’d planned this kidnapping to the smallest of details, never imagining that someone else would get to her first.

  His safety clicks as Smith watches out the window. The one who was searching motions that he needs some help, and they again exit, this time into the woods. All except for Teherizad who waits, rehearsing how he’ll explain to his cousin that he needs more funding.

  After the man in the woods is apprehended, Teherizad drives for a while. Then he pulls off the road, slips on a pair of gloves, and grabs the kidnapper out of the back seat.