Waking Gods (Themis Files #2)(60)
—Thank you, for thinking of me. I—
—I am sorry to interrupt, but it appears we have run out of things to climb on. Shall we stand?
—It’s all over my feet. Do you feel anything?
—Not at the moment.
—What will happen to them? Your files?
—I do not know. Everything I collected in my—I hesitate to call it a career—is on a hard drive in a safe-deposit box. The key and access card are in my jacket pocket. I can only hope that whoever recovers our bodies has a curious mind and an adventurous spirit. The most recent files are on a thumb drive, also in my jacket. Figuring out the password should be easy with this recording.
—What is it?
—The name of my son.
—Tell me something more about you.
—What do you want to know?
—I don’t know. Anything. Tell me how you met Eugene. You two seem to be close.
—That is a very interesting story but also a very long one. It was an honor knowing you, Dr. Franklin … —cough —Sir?
Sir?—cough
…
…
FILE NO. 1588
MISSION LOG—VINCENT COUTURE, CONSULTANT, EARTH DEFENSE CORPS
Location: EDC Headquarters, New York, NY
—This is Vincent Couture. I’m in the control room next to hangar one. Everyone’s gone. I sent them to UN headquarters. They’ll be safe on the top floors if they get there in time. I hope Rose makes it. She was in the lab when the robot appeared. That’s a lot farther from the main building.
I’m taking the backup drives from the safe. Some comm gear. I’m not sure what else I can grab before I head out. Hopefully, the building won’t be destroyed and it doesn’t matter.
I wish I could fight that thing. A whole lot of people have died already but it’s different when it’s home. Our neighbors, the dry-cleaning guy across the street, I wonder if any of them will survive. Probably not. I feel bad that I have a way out and they don’t. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I even feel sorry for the asshole at the coffee shop who keeps hitting on Kara. I’m heading to hangar one now. I’ll take Themis up north in case that robot decides to rip her apart.
Crap! Almost forgot. Gotta make a quick stop by our lockers. Kara left some personal stuff in hers: an old picture of her mom, some trinkets I gave her. I have a signed picture of David Prowse in mine. Oh, and my wedding ring’s in there. That’s why I’m going. If I die out here, tell my wife I went back for my wedding ring. She’ll be impressed.
—She’ll think you’re a complete idiot.
—Kara? Is that you? Oh my God! Come here, you’re crazy!
—OK, stop! You’re choking me.
—Sorry.
—Vincent, meet Eva. Eva, this is Vincent.
— …
—Vincent? You OK?
—Yeah …
—Then say something, either of you.
—It’s nice to meet you, Eva. Would you like to see Themis?
[She’s here?]
I’ll take that as a yes—
—Vincent, there’s a lot I need to tell you.
—I know. Our “friend” filled me in.
—That asshole, I’ll—
—Later. We really need to go. There’s a big robot shooting poisonous gas about a mile away from here. Eva, it’s that way.
—How long do we have?
—I don’t know. It travels fast. Three minutes maybe? Is she … ?
—I can’t say for sure. She kinda looks like me, don’t you think?
—Not kinda. It’s a bit eerie.
—Shhh. She’s right behind us!
—Does she know?
—No. I haven’t told her. She’s been through enough already. She’s … she’s a bit dark.
—How dark? “Dark” like her favorite band is The Cure? Or I’m-an-abomination-I-should-be-burned-alive-Rose-dark?
—She’s … She’s not what you’d expect. One minute she’s a normal ten-year-old, the next it’s like— —Like what?
—She talks about people dying, how they felt. She’s … dark. She saw her parents die.
—Poor kid.
—Yeah. The Russians got there before me. Three men broke in in the middle of the night. They killed her parents right in front of her.
—Where did you find her?
—In Haiti.
—Haiti? How the hell did you end up there?
—I knew they couldn’t take her back on a commercial flight and there were no private planes there with Russian tags. I figured they’d hop islands and fly out of Cuba. My plan was to go from port to port, hoping someone would remember three big men with a weird accent. I got lucky on the first try, right there in San Juan. They had chartered a boat to the Dominican Republic. I ran into the captain’s wife on the docks. I caught up to them at Punta Cana and followed them across the island all the way to Port-au-Prince.
—How’d you get her back? Please tell me you didn’t fight three KGB agents.
—I think they were mercs. And no. I paid the Haitian police to arrest them. That reminds me, we don’t have any money left.
—Oh great. My wife spent all our savings on crooked cops.