Dorian Kross burst in, "What's going on?" he said breathlessly.
Emily spun round, startled by the sudden intrusion. She hesitated, then pointed to the large screen on the far wall. Kross's eyes followed her gesture, and his face fell. The two big images displayed were unmistakable.
"Brendon."
His face taut back, and a haunted look seeped into his eyes.
Emily spun back to her screen and started briefing Kross, "About twenty minutes ago the A.I. flagged this." She tapped furiously on her keyboard and the footage of The Sanctuary on fire popped up on the big screen. Kross observed the carnage. "We traced the user ID to a Raúl Hernández, new account today, uncleared payment, eating up a lot of CPU." She paused to draw breath. "Probably a spoof account running a lot of plugins to enhance and mask his activity." Kross nodded, eyes transfixed on the footage of Brendon taking down squads of Sentinels. "Vincent recognized the guy from yesterday in the foyer and thinks it's the same guy."
"Wait," Kross interrupted, "He's been here? In this building?" He spoke with incredulity bursting from his voice. Emily nodded.
"Yeah, the image on the right is from the CCTV outside in the waiting area." Kross pulled his hand down his face and squeezed his chin. "I did a trace and managed to triangulate the IP to the car park outside. I think Vincent, Terry and Jason have gone to find him."
Kross's stomach twisted. "And what about this patient, Vincent mentioned a patient who was spiking? He said they'd been in contact with this intruder or something." Kross was pointing at Brendon's picture on the screen.
"Yeah, patient number three nine zero five." A few taps and Grace's profile dragged onto the right hand side of the screen, overlaying the feeds from the car park.
"Grace…" he mumbled, dread creeping into his voice. "He's come for her…"
Kross fished his phone from his pocket and dialed Vincent's number. He paced, glancing back at Emily, who was focused on the screen, concern and confusion beginning to cross her face.
"Vincent, give me an update," he said firmly as soon as the call connected.
"Mr. Kross," Vincent's gravelly voice crackled through the speaker. "We're just getting ready to go."
Kross gestured to Emily. "Give me the feeds from the car park." Emily complied quickly.
The camera feeds flickered on the screen, showing the car park from multiple angles. Emily manipulated the controls, zooming in on the section where vehicles lined the lot.
As the image sharpened, Kross leaned forward, tension beginning to radiate from him. They could see the outline of a van partially hidden at the back, obscured by a bed of tall bushes.
"There," he said, voice low and urgent. "Is that it, there?"
Emily nodded and continued to focus on the screen, a bead of sweat forming on her brow.
Inside the van, Naomi clung to the steering wheel, her knuckles pale under the pressure of her grip. She was trying to keep a lookout and watch over Brendon at the same time. Brendon was still sprawled out on the floor of the van. His VR headset snug over his eyes. His breathing steady, no sign of distress. He seemed OK.
Naomi watched as the door of the underground garage lifted open, and two unmarked black town cars burst forth. Naomi's heart raced as she squinted, trying to catch every detail. The vehicles sped through the empty car park, clearly on a mission. They rocked like boats as they weaved around obstacles at speed.
They turned toward her.
Panic surged in her chest.
She fumbled for the ignition key, heart pounding in her ears as the engine spluttered to life. She slammed the gear into drive, the tires screeched against the asphalt, and the van heaved out of its spot.
The first car surged forward, trying to block her path, but Naomi managed to pull off a swerve. Fear flooded her veins as she glanced in the mirrors, catching a glimpse of the second car racing up alongside her.
Impact!
The hit was hard. It jolted her, sending her crashing against the door as she clung to the large steering wheel. The sound of metal on metal burned her ears, but she gritted her teeth and did her best to compose herself. Her fight reflex rose up inside her, refusing to back down.
The second car persisted.
In a sudden manoeuvre, it managed to accelerate hard and swerved directly in front of her.
"Fuck!" she yelled as she braced herself.
She slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The van collided with the car, the crunch drowned out her yells. Everything blurred for a moment, as the world spun into a chaotic dance.
When everything had settled, Naomi blinked out her daze, senses reeling. The van was on its right side. Naomi hung limply in the driver's seat, suspended by the seat belt. She felt it sting against her chest and took a shaky breath. She managed to work the buckle loose and clumsily dropped down. Adrenaline pushed her forward.
She peered in the back.
Debris and chaos.
A couple of screens were hanging from their power cables, but everything else was lying on the ground. Underneath it all was Brendon, presumably still in session. Naomi moved to search for him but heard car doors slam shut outside.
They were coming for her.
She scrambled up the seats to stand on the steering wheel and poked her head out of the smashed driver's window.
Vincent stumbled out of the wrecked car, disoriented and stunned, shaking his head as he tried to regain his bearings. He locked eyes with Naomi as she finished neatly lifting her legs out of the cab. She quickly spun round and dropped off the side of the crashed van.
"Javier!" he barked. "Get her!"
Javier forced his jammed car door with his shoulder and sprang into action. He was a big guy but picked up momentum quickly, chasing after Naomi like a slowly accelerating freight train. Naomi had bolted toward the dense forest lining the edge of the parking lot.
She moved fast.
Her athletic limbs moved her through the trees and underbrush. Her heart raced as she pushed deeper in. All she could hear was the sound of Javier's lumbering footsteps thundering behind her, relentless and merciless, but thankfully fading as she bounded through the woods, outpacing him.
Vincent didn't waste time watching the chase unfold. He closed on the back of the crashed van, his muscles tensed as he heaved open one of the back doors. It swung down with a creak, revealing the aftermath of equipment, wires, and scattered belongings strewn across the ground.
He stepped inside, surveying the wreckage, his mind racing. What had they been doing? Where was Brendon?
Amidst the debris, something caught his eye. There, half-hidden beneath a tangle of cables and some clothes, was an arm. He carefully removed some debris and unearthed Brendon, lying on his side, his face pushed into the floor, still wearing his V.R. headset. "He's here, I found him." Vincent loomed over him like a caveman looking over a successful kill. "Help me move him," he finally said slowly.