Linkage: The Narrows of Time

Chapter 22

Misdirection





Even though the citystreets were mostly abandoned, Bruno waited for the green arrow toappear on the traffic signal before turning left onto 22nd Streetfrom Kolb Road. Now only five miles east of campus, he was drivingthe lead car of their three-vehicle convoy in the right-most lane,keeping under the posted speed limit. L was to his right, staring outthe passenger’s window, while the other two Bruno copies weredirecting the lumbering tanker trucks following behind him.

His handheld, ten-wattMotorola radio squelched from inside the middle console, startlinghim for a moment. “Rabbit, this is Base, do you read?”

Bruno dug for thetwo-way radio, taking his eyes off the road.

“Hey, watch out,” Lsaid, snapping out of his trance.

One of tanker trucksblew its horn three times when Bruno’s black, four-door sedandrifted to the right, nearly hitting the curb. Bruno swerved the carto the left, just missing a newspaper dispenser chained to a lightpole. His heart was pumping full steam when he rolled down his windowand gave the other Bruno copies a courtesy wave. He picked up theradio and pressed the talk switch. “This is Rabbit, I read you loudand clear, over.”

“There’s been achange in plans,” Kleezebee said. “I need you to deploy tocheckpoint Alpha. You’ve got forty-seven minutes.”

“Roger that,Checkpoint Alpha,” Bruno replied, adjusting the angle of the cameramounted to the dash. It was disguised as a portable GPS unit. “How’sthe reception, sir?”

“We’re receivingyou five by five. Is L ready for this?”

“I think so,” Brunoreplied, looking at L.

“Excellent. Make sureyou’re not captured.”

“Will do, Chief,”Bruno said before hearing Kleezebee’s sign off.

“Are we going to makeit there in time?” L asked.

“Yes, if I can keepthis thing off the sidewalk.”

“So we’re reallygoing to do this?”

Bruno nodded. “DL’scounting on us.”

Bruno pressed thetransmit button on his radio. “Chase One and Two, this is Rabbit.Did you guys copy that? We’re redeploying to the Checkpoint Alpha.You guys continue on.”

“Understood,” oneof the Bruno copies reported.

“Ten-four,” theother said.

Bruno looked into hisrearview mirror as they drove through the next intersection. Thetankers behind him slowed down, then turned left as expected. “Goodluck, guys,” he said.

* * *

“What’stheir ETA?” Lucas asked one of the video surveillance techs,keeping his eyes on the video monitor just below the center screen.It was streaming live from the camera hidden inside the GPS unitmounted on Bruno’s dashboard.

“Approaching thecheckpoint now,” the tech said.

“Are the tankers inposition?” Kleezebee asked.

“Yes, sir, locationconfirmed.”

“Go ahead. Call thepress.”

The video screenflickered twice as Bruno’s sedan inched forward toward CheckpointAlpha, which controlled access to the campus from 6th Street. Thewide-angle camera was aimed straight ahead, out over the hood, notallowing Lucas to follow the guard as he walked up to the driver’swindow. Both the miniature U.S. flag mounted on the left side of thehood and the two-star command flag on the right were flapping in thebreeze.

“Here we go,”Kleezebee said.

“Too bad we don’thave audio,” Drew said.

“If Bruno does hisjob, we shouldn’t need it.”

The screen showedBruno’s vehicle quickly backing away from the checkpoint, providingan underside view of the lower concourse to the university’s58,000-seat stadium to the right. The vehicle spun ninety degreescounterclockwise, then accelerated west along 6th Street.

“ETA to the tunnel?”Kleezebee asked.

“Four minutes.”

Lucas checked the videofeed monitoring the open stairwell shaft above NASA’s bunker andthe one in front of his apartment complex. The soldiers guarding bothlocations scrambled away from their posts. “Looks like the chase ison.”

“What about Mom’shouse?” Drew asked.

The tech changed one ofthe other monitors to show Dorothy’s neighborhood. The soldierswere no longer positioned along her street.

“Wow, better than wehoped. Looks like they all got the message,” Lucas said.

“What’s the leadseparation?” Kleezebee asked.

“Two minutes, sir.”

“That’s too close.Notify the tankers and show me the tunnel feed.”

The center screenswitched to a lengthwise view of a two-lane road. The camera wasmounted deep inside a tunnel whose surface had been desecrated by ablanket of brightly colored graffiti. Two military tankers weresitting at the far end of the tunnel, just outside the entrance,parked on opposite sides of the street. Clouds of white and bluesmoke were puffing out of their tailpipes.

“Can you zoom in?”Drew asked. “I can’t see Bruno’s car.”

“He’ll arrive in amoment,” the tech answered, not changing the camera’s focus.

“ETA to the flashpoint?”

“Twenty-sevenminutes, sir.”

“That’s cutting ita little close, don’t you think?” Lucas asked.

“We should be fine,”Kleezebee said, before asking his tech, “Are the big-rigs inplace?”

“Ready and waiting,sir.”

* * *

“There’rethe tankers. Looks like they’re in position,” Bruno told L,checking the sedan’s jittery rearview mirror. The swarm of vehicleschasing him was growing larger in the reflection.

“Dude, the accessramp is coming up fast,” L said, tightening his seatbelt beforegripping the top of the dashboard with both hands.

Bruno waved to hisbrethren as the sedan blurred past the waiting tankers. He eased offon the gas pedal, preparing for a sharp left turn once they clearedthe thousand-foot tunnel.

“I sure hope thisworks,” L said.

“It should, there’sno other way onto the Interstate from here.”

Bruno’s mirror showedthe tankers pulling their front bumpers together, blocking his viewof the oncoming procession. Bruno changed lanes and flipped on hisleft turn signal.

“Do you really thinkthat’s necessary?” L asked.

“Sorry, old habit,”Bruno said after a short chuckle. He turned off the blinker andpeeked again into his rearview mirror. All he could see were thetankers blocking the tunnel entrance.

As his sedan turnedleft and approached the incline to the freeway, Bruno looked to hisleft. The two Bruno replicas were standing together just inside thetunnel’s entrance, on his side of the tanker trucks.

“Thanks for the help,guys,” he told them on the radio.

“Good luck and Godspeed,” one of the Bruno copies replied.

* * *

“Howmany copies of Bruno are there?” Lucas asked Kleezebee when thevideo feed showed two of them standing together just inside thetunnel entrance.

“Eleven in all.”

“Couldn’t afford aneven dozen?” Lucas joked.

The video tech laughed.Kleezebee sneered at him.

“Sir, the sedan’smade it onto the freeway and is headed south,” the tech said.

“Give Bruno Two thego ahead.”

The screen showed oneof the Bruno replicas attaching a tan-colored object to the rearsection of both tanker trucks.

“C-four?” Lucasasked his boss.

“Something likethat.”

“I know you want todelay the soldiers, but won’t that take out the tunnel completely?”

“It shouldn’t. Weonly partially filled the tankers. But if it does, there’s alwaysthe news helicopter,” Kleezebee said, pointing to the upper rightscreen. A circling aerial view showed the tankers facing each otheroutside the tunnel’s entrance.

“Oh . . . the phonecall to the press,” Lucas replied, nodding to applaud Kleezebee’sstrategy.

Lucas looked at thetunnel feed just in time to see the two Brunos crowd together, thenvanish from sight. The tankers exploded into a billowing cloud ofsmoke and fire.

“Where’d they go?”Lucas asked.

“Nowhere, they’restill right there,” the tech replied. “Well, sort of.”

“Are they using somekind of personal cloaking device?”

Kleezebee shook hishead. “That wouldn’t have protected them when the trucksexploded.”

“Then what happened,Professor?”

“They slipped into aninter-dimensional rift in subspace.”

“They did what?”

Kleezebee motioned forone of his video techs to join him. The professor grabbed hold of thetech’s forearm, just above the man’s watch, then held the armclose to Lucas’ face.

“I’ve seen Brunowearing that same watch,” Lucas said.

“Well, it does a lotmore than just tell time,” Kleezebee said. “It contains asubspace rift regulator that the wearer can use to hide inside asubspace flap. That’s where the two Brunos are right now, waitingfor the area to clear. They’re perfectly safe.”

“Unreal,” Lucassaid, fiddling with the orange buttons around the perimeter on thedevice. “Can you show me how this thing works?”

Kleezebee nodded to thetech before returning his eyes to the video screens.

The tech put his watchhand on Lucas’ shoulder, then pressed a combination of buttons onthe device with his other hand.

A moment later, Lucaswas standing in a dark space, wishing he’d brought a winter coatand flashlight with him. He could only see the glow of the tech’swatch to his left; nothing else. He extended his hands and tried towalk forward, but couldn’t move. He felt like he was trapped insidea locked refrigerator with the light off. “Why is it pitch black inhere?”

“There’s no lightsource in subspace,” the tech said with a patronizingly superiorattitude.

Lucas felt like anidiot for asking such a stupid question. Of course there’s no lightin subspace. Stars only exist in normal space. “Right. I get it.We’re in subspace. But where exactly?”

“We’re inside asubspace bubble that is straddling the interconnecting membranebetween two parallel universes. It’s like an envelope wedged into adoor jamb.”

“That explains why wecan’t move. We must be in some kind of force field that’sprotecting us from the intense gravimetric forces.”

“Correct.”

“If the two Brunocopies are hiding in one of these right now, how would they know whenit’s safe to return to normal space?”

“Our watches containa proximity sensor,” the tech said, holding the timepiece in frontof Lucas’ eyes. He pressed a pair of buttons simultaneously,illuminating a wire frame representation of the surveillance room onthe watch face. Two red blips were in the center, with a single reddot to the left.

“I take it we’rethe two in the middle, and the other one is Dr. Kleezebee?”

“Yes, and thediagonal row are my co-workers, sitting at their stations.”

Lucas thought aboutcalling out to Drew as a joke, but decided against it. The techdidn’t appear to have much of a sense of humor. “Can you take usback now?”

The tech pressed a fewmore buttons on the device, instantly returning them to normal space.

“Enjoy the trip?”Kleezebee asked.

“That was prettyf*ckin’ cool,” Lucas replied, feeling a tad woozy. He rubbed hishands together to get the blood flowing again.

“What was it like?”Drew asked.

“I felt like ashrink-wrapped sausage in there.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Nope,” Lucasreplied, flexing his fingers as if he were playing the piano. “Youshould give it a try, little brother.”

“No, thanks, I’llpass.”

“Did you guys developthis technology?” Lucas asked the professor.

Kleezebee nodded.“Besides BioTex, it’s one of our most useful inventions.”

“That’s anunderstatement. James Bond would have had a field day with thatthing. So when do I get one?”

“These watches havesensors that only allow our kind to operate it,” the tech replied.

“So, you’re areplica, too?”

“As a matter of fact,I am. But that’s not—”

“Gentlemen, we don’thave time for this,” Kleezebee said, pointing up at the screens.

The news helicopter wastracking Bruno’s sedan from the air and the military chase vehicleshad cleared a path and entered the tunnel. They were turning leftonto the access ramp leading up to the freeway.

“What’s theseparation?” Kleezebee asked.

“Ten miles. Do youwant to deploy the semis?”

“Let’s wait. We maynot need them.”

* * *

Brunowhizzed past a pair of eighteen-wheelers parked on the freeway’sshoulder. “Can you see Alvarez back there?”

L climbed into the backseat and looked out the rear window. “No, the only thing I see is ahelicopter following us. I think it’s one of Channel 13’s.”

“Good, then weprobably won’t need the semis to slow them down,” Bruno replied,raising the handheld radio to his mouth.

“Base, this isRabbit. Do you read?”

The radio squelched.“Rabbit, this is Base. We read you loud and clear.”

“I’m five milesfrom the primary flash point, awaiting final instructions.”

“Increase speed toseventy-seven miles per hour and maintain course.”

“Acknowledged . . .setting cruise control to seven-seven.”

“So, that’s it? Wejust drive straight ahead?”

“What’d youexpect?”

“I thought I’d atleast get to fire my weapon before we die,” L said, holding therifle in a firing position out of the right rear window.

“But they’re onlyblanks.”

“I know, but still itwould have been a blast to shoot it.”

“Go ahead, let ‘errip.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not? Justdon’t unload the entire clip. It’s going to be loud.”

* * *

Lucassaw something long and slender poking out of the sedan’s right rearwindow. “What’s that? In the window?” he asked the video tech.

“Looks like a gunbarrel . . . and someone’s shooting it.”

“Is there any way toadjust the camera so we can see what they’re shooting at?” Lucasasked the tech.

“I tried, but theservos aren’t responding.”

“It’s probablynothing,” Kleezebee said. “The chase vehicles are out of rangeand there’s nothing else on the road, other than our big-rigs.”

“Then I must beblowing off a few rounds,” Lucas said, smiling proudly.

“That sounds aboutright,” Drew replied.

Lucas scowled at hisbrother.

Drew shrugged.

“One minute, thirtyseconds, sir,” the tech said.

“Show me the horsetrack in Green Valley,” Kleezebee said.

The upper left screenchanged to show a wide-angle, landscape view of the northern edge ofGreen Valley. A sprawling mountain range cut across the upper sectionof the screen, serving as a backdrop for a towering cement plant offin the distance. In between the cement plant and the track’sparking lot was open desert covered with half-wilted bushes andsaguaro cacti. The right edge of the screen was filled with a sea oftiled roofs, packed together like war protesters storming the WhiteHouse gates.

“Is that the bestangle you have?” Kleezebee asked.

The tech nodded.

The bottom of thescreen contained a section of the track’s lower grandstands. “Shit,look at all that paper,” Lucas said, seeing thousands of tinystrips of white paper littering the track’s infield and seats.

A short minute later,Lucas asked, “Where should we see it?”

“Just on the otherside of the cement plant,” the tech answered, “along thefreeway’s access road.”

Right on cue, a brightflash filled the racetrack’s security feed, just beyond the cementfactory. Moments later, the flash dissolved, leaving behind an energydome exactly where the tech had predicted.

“Nice work,”Kleezebee said, patting the tech on the back. “Looks like youplanted just the right amount of material.”

The news helicoptercircled around, pointing its high altitude camera at the massivedome, which was now moving away from the cement plant, travelingsouth while smothering all six lanes of the Interstate. Bruno’ssedan slid sideways, leaving a trail of smoke and skid marks, rightbefore its inertia carried it into the northern edge of the energyfield.

The helicopter flewover the dome, allowing the camera to capture Bruno’s sedan beingwhipped around. The sedan was shredded into chunks and sucked throughthe vortex.

“And then there wereten,” Lucas mumbled, thinking of his security friend.

The helicopter swungaround to show Alvarez’s convoy approaching at high speed from thenorth, while the energy field continued its southerly trek toward theGreen Valley retirement community.

“Do you think theybought it?” Drew asked.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Kleezebee said.