Double Helix Ch. 20

"So any kids we have will be superintelligent and be able to read emotions, just like you?"

She nodded. "Among all the other enhancements."

"It's a lot to think about," I said. I had rarely even thought about children. One of my old girlfriends had once had a pregnancy scare, but I had been enormously relieved when it turned out to just be a late period. By contrast, the thought of having a baby with Tilly was exciting, if more than a little frightening.

"There's no rush," she said, and then her voice got quiet and distant. "But I have had dreams, beautiful dreams. Dreams of holding our newborn. Sometimes those make me cry when I realize they aren't real."

She said it with such longing and conviction that I felt an echo of that longing in return. I reached for her and kissed her slowly and tenderly. Her confession had revealed new depths to me. I allowed myself to imagine her as a mother, able to sense what her baby was feeling. Our children would be cared for with such love and understanding and my heart suddenly ached to witness it for myself.

Our kiss deepened and grew more passionate by the second. I was making love to her through our mouths as surely as though I had sheathed myself between her thighs, and it went on and on, ever wilder and more sensual by the moment. I was rock hard, my mind and body in perfect harmony of purpose in their desire to procreate with this strong, compassionate, loving and courageous woman.

We were both breathing hard when I released her. If we had been anywhere else, doing anything else, I'm certain that one of us would have been on top of the other, no matter that there was traffic going by just twenty yards ahead.

"I love you, Norm," she said, her voice breaking from raw emotion. "Whatever you decide, I love you, always."

I drew in a breath. "The answer is yes," I said.

Still panting, she stared at me, as though disbelieving of what she had just heard. "What?"

I smiled. "Yes, I want to have children with you."

I didn't get to say more, because she put her arms around me and pulled me into a hug so tight that I could barely draw a breath. "Oh, thank you, thank you," she murmured. "Oh, God, I love you, Norm." She suddenly released me, and I could breathe again. "Sorry about that," she said.

I shook my head. "I'm fine." It was easy to forget that a girl who weighed maybe a buck ten could bench-press four of me easily, but I wasn't likely to forget it now for a while.

We were saved from further awkwardness by a female voice over the comm. "Control, this is lookout one, I've got eyes on the target. Repeat, I have eyes on the target. The van is heading into the parking garage, over."

"Alright, people," Nonna said over the radio. "Looks like they are loading her up for transport. We've got some time yet before they get on the road, but stay sharp. I have word from our crew in Queen Anne that the riot is in full swing. They've got police already showing up to try to quell it."

"I hope no one gets hurt too badly there," Tilly said, speaking only to me.

I nodded. That was one thing we couldn't really control. If things got too out of hand, people might die. None of us liked that, but it was just one more risk on top of all the others.

We waited another thirty minutes, getting status updates from the rest of the group at Nonna's prompting. A few seconds after the clock ticked over to 11:20, our lookout came over the radio again. "Target is exiting the parking garage, control." The woman's voice had an edge of excitement. "They have a police escort, two patrol cars, one in front, one in back." She read out the markings and license plates of each car. "Control, target and escorts are taking the turn onto the northbound I-5 ramp."

Nonna said, "We're right on schedule. Chasers one and two. What's your status?"

Nissi reported first. "Control, I see the target. Ready to follow it onto the freeway."

Stanford was next. "Likewise, control."

"Excellent. Keep your distance and wait for my signal. Base, do we have an update from Sam?"

Wendy's voice came over the comm. "I sent him the vehicle information. He wants me to patch him through from the darknet. One moment, please."

A smooth but obviously synthesized male voice came over the comm. "Good evening, fellow felons. My backdoors into Seattle's finest are wide open and I'm currently perusing the contents of their underwear drawer. Oh, dear! Looks like they didn't bother to secure their dispatch system separately from the main system. Bad sysadmin, bad. I have located your two escort cars and, oops! I somehow just got full access to both car's remote navigation systems."

"Cut down the chatter, Sam," Nonna said. "And well done. Now, can you get control of the transport van?"

"Still working on it, dulcissima. The US Marshals system is a slightly harder nut to crack. Give me five minutes."

"You have until Allentown. Do your best, please."

Almost exactly five minutes later, a new voice, young and male, came over the channel. "This is lookout two. I've got eyes on. Target is about to pass the checkpoint." There was a pause. "Now."

"Sam, what's your status?" Nonna said, her tone urgent.

"I'm in the system," he said. "But I can't get access to the vehicle. I think the van's remote nav has been taken offline."

Nonna said something in Russian that sounded like a curse. "Well, it was worth a shot. We'll proceed with the next phase. Base, you know what to do."

"Starting up the demolition derby," Wendy said. "I've got all six vehicles running." There was a pause of several seconds. "They're en route. ETA two minutes."

"Perfect," Nonna said. "ETA for our target is seven minutes."

"Lookout three reporting in," a new female voice said, a minute later. She was stationed on a bridge overlooking I-5 at Yesler, just south of James. I've got the derby in sight heading northbound on I-5. Vehicles five and six are breaking off, just as planned."

"Vehicles one through four are on schedule," Wendy said. "Estimated impact in...five, four, three, two, one. Impact! One and two are reporting heavy damage. Vehicle one has flipped. Now vehicle three and four have hit the scene."

If everything had gone according to our simulation, the two lead vehicles had just collided and spun out of control across the two middle lanes of the freeway. Vehicles three and four, following close behind, would swerve as though trying to avoid the crash, vehicle four clipping the side of vehicle one before flipping on its side, while number three smashed into the center barricade, completing the roadblock.

"Crash confirmed!" Lookout three reported excitedly. "It's a mess down there, but I don't think we have any casualties. I see traffic slowing now. I don't see room for anyone to get around."

"Vehicle five and six are nearly on target," Wendy said. Both vehicles would be approaching the intersection at James and 7th streets from opposite sides of the freeway. "Three, two, one. Impact!"

The navigation system on vehicle five had been reprogrammed to slam on its brakes, turn sharply right and flip on its side, hitting vehicle six as it turned to head north against the light and causing both to stop in the middle of the intersection.

"Eagle Eye reporting," Nock said. "Beautifully done, guys. That's got eastbound James Street partially blocked and northbound 7th totally blocked. Almost everything coming off the interstate is trickling my way and westbound James is backing up."

"Chaser one," Nonna said. "You should be approaching the slowdown now. What's the status?"

"Chaser one confirms," Nissi said. I could hear the sound of the cycle's engine whining and wind rushing past her helmet. "The van and escorts are slowing down now."

"The police escorts are reporting in," Dawn said. There was a pause and she added, "Their dispatch is recommending to find an alternate route."

"Watch them, chasers," Nonna said. "I need to know if they deviate from our plan."

"They've just activated their sirens," Nissi said. "They're trying to clear a path to reach the exit for James Street." A second later, I heard the sirens coming faintly from a distance.

"Ura!" Nonna said. "Stay on them, chasers, and keep up the report."

It took several minutes for the transport to ease its way from the third lane through the almost completely jammed outer two lanes of the freeway and onto the off ramp that was so conveniently in reach, and a few more minutes for it to get down the long ramp that had been rapidly filling up as other cars tried to use it to get around the accident up ahead. The escorts cut their sirens when it was obvious that there was no room for anyone to get out of their way.

"Sam," Nonna said. "If they try to go left, give us a signal, wait five seconds and then override the nav systems on the escorts to bring them our way. Hopefully the van will follow. Chasers, if you hear that signal, you start jamming and the rest of you be ready to improvise."

We waited in silence for several seconds. Nissi came over again. "They're turning right. Eagle Eye, you should see them about now."

"Eyes on," Nock drawled. "And heading straight into our trap."

I glanced at Tilly and we both pulled black balaclavas over our heads.

"Keep it up, Eagle Eye," Nonna said. "Mark each intersection as they cross it."

"Crossing 8th," he said. A moment later, "Stopped at 9th for a red light. Still proceeding eastbound." There was a pause of about a minute. "They're moving again. They just passed Terry."

"We saw them," Nonna said. "Everyone get ready."

"Mobile one here," I said. "I'm moving into position." I eased the car forward toward the intersection, watching for traffic approaching from the rear. This late, the side street was empty, and I stopped a car length back from the intersection with James. This late, there was no traffic behind me.

"Red light. They're stopping at Boren," Nock said, "outer lane, third car from the light." That was the street I was on.

I craned my head to get a better look at the intersection up ahead, but I could only see the nose of the first eastbound car.

"Sam," Nonna said. "You ready to go?"

"As soon as you give the word, my sweet."

"Eagle Eye, signal once the light turns green. Chasers, stay with your targets. Mobile one, move as soon as I signal Eagle eye."

Only a few seconds passed before Nock came on. "It's green, control."

"Sam, now!"

"Here we go!" Sam said in that synthesized voice. Instead of laughter, the software rendered his next words, tonelessly, as, "Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha."

"Chasers, now!" Nonna said.

"Chaser one, jammer on," Nissi said.

"Chaser two, jammer on," Stanford said, almost on top of her.

Each of them carried backpacks containing high-powered, wideband radio jammers to prevent the police escorts or transport personnel from signaling for help. We had configured them to leave a deep notch of open air in the band where our own radios operated, but even so, there was a roughness to subsequent transmissions, digital noise giving us all somewhat robotic-sounding voices.

At the same moment, the sirens of both police cars started wailing and their tires screeched as they accelerated madly. There was more screeching as the cars that had just begun to move from the westbound traffic lanes suddenly stopped and the two police escorts shot through the intersection going the wrong way, then swerved left to go north up Boren, following a set of commands that Sam had given their remote nav system. Nissi followed just behind them, her bike's engine screaming to keep up.

"Eagle Eye, now!"

I stomped on the accelerator. The white transport van appeared up ahead in the intersection after the first two cars had cleared, moving slowly, and I angled to cut it off. A thwack of metal striking metal sounded and a fist-sized hole appeared in the van's hood. I screeched to a stop in front of the van as it lurched and coughed, flames licking up from the hole in the hood and smoke billowing out. The armor-piercing incendiary round, shot from Nock's .50 caliber anti-materiel rifle, had pierced the van's engine block and set the oil in the engine on fire.

I jumped out, bringing my rifle to bear on the man on the vehicle's passenger side. Both were dressed in dark blue US Marshals uniforms and looked slightly dazed. "Don't move!" I shouted, as Tilly rounded the truck's left side and pointed her shotgun at the driver. She sidled up to the driver's window, keeping the barrel of the AA-12 fixed on the man's face. He reached up to trigger the radio hanging near his throat and she tilted her head to one side as if to say, "Really?"

"Your comms are down!" I said. "Just keep your hands where I can see them and you will not be harmed!" The two marshals exchanged glances and a few whispered words. The glass on the van was ballistic, so unless they got out, they couldn't harm us with the handguns they carried. On the other hand, my assault rifle and Tilly's 12-gauge shotgun could definitely pierce that glass if loaded with the right ammo. They also had to realize that another shot like the one that had taken out their engine would go through the windshield like it were tissue paper.

Stanford perched on his motorcycle six car-lengths back from the van, blanketing the area in radio interference. Traffic had come to a complete stop as our vehicles blocked the street, and some motorists were leaping from their stopped cars and fleeing the area upon seeing our weapons.

Nonna's Suburban rolled up quietly along the wide sidewalk fronting James while we confronted the officers. She and the rest of the team, faces covered by balaclavas, got out quickly and they silently approached the back of the van. The two men Mike had hand-picked disappeared behind the van while the rest of the team covered them.

While they worked, Tilly and I kept the Marshals distracted and off-balance, moving slowly closer to the van. I could see the two men weighing their options and figured that dying pointlessly wasn't at the top of their list. A minute or so went by when Nonna hissed over the comm. "Get clear."

Mike's guys retreated back to the SUV while the rest of the crew made room. A faint hiss sounded from the back of the van that quickly grew in volume, and an intense yellow-orange light reflected off the windows of the nearby buildings and cars. I could tell that the two marshals sensed something was up, but I shouted at them again, keeping their attention on me and Tilly.

The hissing died off and two masked figures, Stan and Stanley, moved in, one bearing a huge pair of bolt-cutters. The back door on my side swung out, its inner edge scorched from the thermite that had been used to cut the lock. There were faint voices and a snick of metal being sliced through. I glanced back once more and saw Sasha standing there, looking bewildered. She had grown haggard and thin in prison. She said something to one of the Stans. He pointed and she looked my direction, her lips curling into a thin smile. I nodded to her before they hustled her off to the Suburban.

"One minute left," Nonna said over the comm. "Mobile 1, get ready to disengage."

I felt euphoric at having just pulled off what should have been an impossible rescue, and almost laughed out loud at her words. That's when Nock's voice broke over the line. "Guys, two vehicles are stopped just to your north across the intersection. There are people getting out-"

I started to turn my head to look over my right shoulder at his words, but before I could complete the motion, and before he had finished his sentence, I was punched hard in the ribs, hard enough to make me stagger backward. Tilly cried out at the same time, dropping to one knee. Grunting, she surged towards me, hauling me around the side of the van by the back of my vest as more thin pops erupted from across the intersection.

"There are eight of them," Nock was saying. "All in black. No freaking way these guys are marshals."

"Return fire!" Nonna said. "Don't let them advance. Stanford, get your ass clear!"

"Are you hurt?" Tilly asked me, checking me over. There was pain to the right of my sternum, but it just felt bruised. I suddenly realized that I had been shot.

"I think I'm okay," I said. "The armor stopped it. You?"

"Same," she said. "Still hurts, though."

I looked up to see the marshal on the passenger side peering down at us through the side window. I lifted my weapon to point at him, and he ducked out of sight. The popping sounds continued, coming both from across the street and behind the van now as our team returned fire. Tilly stuck the barrel of her shotgun around the front of the van, and a shower of bullets immediately plinked off the hood near it. She snatched it back, checking it quickly, but it appeared undamaged.

Nonna shouted into open air this time rather than her comm. "Stanford, wake the fuck up and go!" I heard Stanford's bike whine suddenly and he shot past us, barreling down the sidewalk. He hit the sidewalk on the opposite corner and was out of sight in seconds.

I looked to my left to see two of Nonna's team crouched behind vehicles, firing bursts at targets out of sight on the other side of the van. There was a shout of alarm, maybe of pain, and Stan's panicked voice over the comm. "Stanley's down! Stanley's down!" Followed almost immediately by, "Stansy's hit!"

"Extraction team, fall back, take cover," Nonna shouted into the comm to be heard over the gunfire. "Base, goddammit, haven't you been monitoring the police channels? Where did these people come from?"

"Nothing, control," Dawn said, frantically. "Most of the chatter I'm hearing is about the riot. I don't think they even realized they lost contact yet."

"They're wearing body armor," Stan said. "I plugged one with ten rounds at least and he's still upright. I spotted at least one moving to flank us. We need to even these odds or we're done."

"Done," Nock said, and the muffled crack of his suppressed .308 echoed off the nearby buildings. "And two," he said, as another shot rang out.

"That got their attention," Nonna said. "Nice shooting, Eagle Eye, that's two for two. They've scattered and gone for cover. Mobile One, this is your chance. Get the hell out of here. We'll cover you. Chaser two, head back to base."

"We have to go now," I said to Tilly, getting a nod from her. "Break for the truck. And, go!"

Tilly's truck was only about fifteen feet from the front of the van, but we would be exposed for that entire distance. I charged for the open door of the truck, while Tilly took two steps and vaulted, sailing higher than the top of my head and coming down in the bed of the truck with enough force to make it bounce on its springs. True to her word, Nonna's team put down a barrage of suppressive fire on the attackers across the street. I got a flash of three or four figures firing from between abandoned cars at Nonna's crew. Another of the attackers lay on the street in a pool of blood, much of his head simply gone.

I had already thrown the idling truck into reverse when a spider web of cracks appeared right in the middle of the windshield. I stomped on the accelerator as more bullets pinged into the truck's exterior, and we careened madly backwards down Boren. I plowed blindly into the intersection at the next block going backwards, threw the truck into drive and turned down the new street, leaving the scene behind.

There was a double knock over my right shoulder and I nearly lost it before I remembered that Tilly was back there. I reached back and unlatched the window so she could slide it open. She handed me her shotgun over my shoulder, then climbed headfirst through the window into the back seat. There was simply no graceful way to do it, and she had to twist and wriggle around to get into the seat, then roll over the top of the front bench seat to get back to the passenger side.