Seizure Page 22

  * * *

  The doors of Roland Weaver's private elevator slid open. He walked out onto the fifth floor into a shower of praise. Victorious music played on the public-address system. Confetti tossed into the air by employees who blew toy horns. Roland winced at the noise, but kept his smile pinned onto his face.

  It had been an exhausting night, spending most of his time on the first floor greeting celebrities and guests, enduring interviews by the media, and giving speeches. But the worst was almost behind him.

  Roland made a show of holding up his hands and calling for silence. When the room fell into an expectant hush, he said, "Thank you. Thank you. This is a great time for all of us. I feel privileged to be working with you, the best group of people assembled in one place anywhere on Earth! Enjoy yourselves, you deserve it!"

  The room exploded into cheers as the party swung into high gear. Roland walked through the crowd, shaking hands and laughing with his employees, until he made his way to the door at the end of the hallway. It was unlocked when he approached so that he could enter.

  The room had once been a set of offices for his vice-president. Since the V.P. had quit over some of Roland's business practices, Roland had renovated it into a television studio. It was here that he would address the world with his message about Lightning. It was here that he would sit, facing the people of the world, as Cerberus was unleashed.

  As Roland entered the room, a hairdresser, makeup artist, and director surrounded him for last-minute preparations. He endured them all to make his way to the oak table set up in front of a row of cameras.

  Roland sat down, brushing away the director, who was telling him about last-minute changes to the cue cards. He didn't need the cards. He knew the speech by heart. Roland looked up at the camera as his director counted down to air-time.

  "And five," the director said, holding up five fingers. "Four, three, two--"

  He pointed at Roland. The red light over the camera came on. The cameras began to hum, softly.

  Roland put on his best smile. "Good evening. My name is Roland Weaver, and it is my pleasure to speak to you today about a topic close to my heart. Lightning."

  * * *

  Even though Sonya was unconscious, Kent and Janet didn't want to take any chances. They left her padlocked inside the abandoned wing of the building. Kent used the rubber tubing he had from the garbage to drain gasoline from Sonya's Porsche into the two glass bottles. When they were both full, he tucked the oily rags into the mouths of the bottles, then walked back to the main building with Janet by his side.

  A massive stone fountain decorated the entrance of the Vulcan Building. Inside the fountain was a statue of a man working at a forge, his hammer raised to strike a computer instead of an anvil. It was the Greek god Vulcan, the company's trademark symbol. Kent passed it, trying not to feel its heavy gaze upon him as he entered the building.

  The inside of the building was even more festive and vibrant than the grounds. Employees and security guards roamed a spacious lobby. Through the rows of Grecian columns decorating the room, Kent could see a row of elevator doors.

  Kent glanced at a directory he passed which indicated that Roland's penthouse was on the sixth floor. Kent and Janet tried to look casual as they made their way to the elevator. Janet gave the guard attending it her friendliest smile. The guard smiled back and allowed them through. Apparently, this wasn't a high-security elevator.

  Kent and Janet stepped into the elevator, surrounded by laughing Vulcan employees. She pushed the fifth button. There was no sixth.

  Hard rock music from a speaker accompanied the ride up. The doors opened on the fifth floor into a party. Balloons and streamers flowed along the walls of the offices as the employees danced and sang to more rock music.

  Janet approached the well-stocked buffet table where a young woman poured herself some punch. "How's it going?"

  "Fantastic!" the woman yelled over the noise. "At midnight, we're gonna nail the competition to the wall! Vulcan rules! Vulcan rules!"

  Others in the room took up the chant until the entire floor shuddered with the battle cry. Janet joined in, but Kent kept his attention on a pair of elevator doors across the room. It was flanked by two heavy-set guards. A sign mounted over the doors read "No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed. Do Not Enter."

  Kent looked away from it to the other end of the room. A set of more accessible doors there were flashing a sign that read "On The Air. Do Not Enter."

  Now was the time. While Janet helped herself to some crab puffs, Kent pulled one of the bottles out of his pocket. He waited until the public elevator behind him opened again, and the occupants filed out. When the car was empty, Kent ducked in long enough to place one of his gasoline-filled bottles on the floor and light the rag acting as a fuse. He came out again just as the doors slid closed.

  Phase one was complete. Kent watched Janet move through the partying crowds, looking for a quiet area. She found it. A potted plant in a remote corner right near Roland's private elevator, too. Perfect.

  Janet made her way over to the plant, trying not to draw the attention of the guards. She casually leaned against the wall. Kent could see behind her back as she lit the fuse and placed the bottle next to the plant. She walked away to a safe distance.

  Kent and Janet began to make their way towards the studio doors, trying to look as if they were merely admiring the Mediterranean landscape paintings on the walls.

  Then it happened.

  The walkie-talkies worn by the guards crackled suddenly with voices. A frenzied voice yelled out, "Fire in elevator three! Repeat, fire in elevator three!"

  Just as the guards reached for their belts, the potted plant in the corner gave off a loud crack as the bottle exploded. Flames splashed onto the plant's leaves and the wall behind it. They caught fire as well. Clouds of pungent black smoke poured out into the room, darkening the air.

  The party ground to a halt as people began to scream and run. The two guards at the elevator bolted towards the burning plant.

  "Everybody to the fire exits!" one guard yelled. "Go, go!"

  As if the chaos had not already reached its peak, jets of water exploded out of the sprinklers mounted on the ceiling, drenching everyone.

  The crowds flooded towards the exits, footsteps beating a rhythm on the floor that drowned out the hissing overhead. Kent and Janet slipped through the moving crowds to the studio doors. He smeared water out of his eyes as he drew the gun out of his pocket.

  He and Janet burst through the studio doors, knocking a man holding cue cards aside. The sprinklers weren't running here in the large white room dominated by a desk behind which Roland was seated. Cameras were trained on his brilliant smile.

  "...and besides being smaller and faster than any other operating system," Roland was saying, "Lightning also comes with voice-recognition software that will revolutionize--"

  He saw Kent and Janet, and his eyes narrowed. "What--"

  Two guards began to rush towards Kent just as he aimed his gun at Roland.

  "Nobody move," Kent yelled.

  Everyone froze, except for Roland, who stood up.

  "What is this?" he started.

  Kent charged across the room and slammed his fist into Roland's face. Roland crashed backwards into his seat. It threatened to slide out from under him. Roland clutched his face as he gurgled in pain.

  "Shut up," Kent growled. "I ought to kill you now."

  Janet stepped forward to face the cameras and hold up her hands in front of them. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be all right as long as this camera stays running."

  Kent held up the iPad he had taken from Sonya's car. His attention remained focused on the gun trained on Roland's head. Roland glared back at him over his curled fingers with a deadly gaze.

  "If the picture goes out at any time," Janet continued, "he'll kill Roland Weaver. But that doesn't have to happen. All we want is a little airtime. Okay?"

  She looked at the director. He looked pale an
d weak, but was able to glance over at Roland, who still clutched his bleeding face. The director bit his lip, then nodded.

  "Great." Janet faced the cameras again. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have an important announcement to make. I'm hoping the other networks have heard about this by now, and are showing it as well because we need all the press we can get. Now this is gonna sound incredible, but I swear it's true. A computer virus has infected a majority of the computers in the United States, and possibly the world. The virus is called Cerberus. It displays a series of colors that causes fatal epileptic seizures in anyone who sees it, making it extremely dangerous. We are not kidding about this. The virus goes off at midnight, and anyone who sees the pattern will die."

  She clasped her hands together. "Now all I'm asking is that everyone watching this who has a computer please turn it off and keep it off until the police can get this sorted out. A vaccination program against the virus exists, but it'll take time to distribute it. I repeat, if you own a computer, do not use it past midnight. Tell everyone you know who has a computer the same thing. I'd also appreciate it if everyone who can could get on the Internet and spread the word there, too."

  Janet turned and pointed at Roland, who glared up at her through fingers dripping red with blood. "I'd like to advise the police on their way here to arrest us to bring an extra pair of handcuffs for this man as well. Weaver is responsible for the creation of Cerberus, along with a group that calls itself the Cyberspace Liberation Front. I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm sure there'll be enough evidence in this place to convict him."

  Janet grinned down at Roland, who looked back with eyes that burned with hatred. "Why shouldn't there be? He never expected to get caught."

  Janet faced the camera again. "Now, in case anyone missed it, I'm going to repeat the message. Roland Weaver--"

  The door of the studio burst open as a flood of security guards exploded into the room. They tackled Janet, wrestling her to the floor.

  "Leave her alone!" Kent yelled. "Or I'll kill Weaver!"

  He looked down and realized Roland had disappeared. Kent saw another door at the opposite end of the room slam shut. The guards jumped over the desk to reach Kent, who bolted for the exit. He managed to open the door and kick it shut behind him, cutting off the guards chasing him.

  Kent found himself back outside in the main hall, an empty room. The sprinklers had shut down, leaving the walls trickling with gray water. Streamers hanging from the ceiling hung loose, dripping onto the carpet. The tables and chairs had been kicked over in the mad rush to escape. The rock music still played, but no one else could hear it.

  He arrived just in time to see Roland's private elevator close with a thud. Kent ran across the hall, listening to the motors humming as the car was carried up to the sixth floor. Kent jammed his thumb against the call button. He could hear the security guards opening the door behind him, could hear the motors bringing the elevator back down, felt the ground tremble at the footsteps of Roland's men growing closer, heard the yells of the men for Kent to freeze.

  The elevator door opened. Kent rushed inside the car, and hammered his fist into the control panel to hit the button that closed the doors. He could see the men rushing up to him. Bullets pinged into the door before they rumbled shut behind him, cutting off the music and the screaming and the pounding fists. There was only silence as Kent began his ascent.

  He pulled out the Beretta and checked to make sure it was loaded.

  22.

  ROLAND LOOKED at the clock mounted on the wall. Five minutes to go. Five minutes away from completion, and the plan was ruined. A few might not see the warning in time, a few might die, but nowhere near the number he needed. And the blame was pointing to him.

  Roland staggered to his chair. He slumped into it, beside his collection of antique books on mythology. He needed to think, to come up with a plan. Then he became aware of the humming of motors coming from his elevator.

  He ran to his computer room. One of the monitors connected to the building's security cameras. He punched up the camera in his private elevator. He instantly got an image of a blonde man standing there. Roland recognized the man when he had broken into the studio, Kent Reynolds. Roland felt a flash of hatred burn through him. This man had been a barrier to his plans for days. Now it was time for payback.

  Roland switched off the monitor. He walked back to his bookcase and picked up the Beretta lying on the shelf. He hadn't brought it with him to the studio. For a brief moment, he had let his guard down and believed he would be safe in his own home, surrounded by his beloved employees. He was wrong. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

  The plan he had spent three years creating was ruined. And it was all Reynolds' fault. Roland fingered the weapon in his hands tenderly.

  * * *

  Kent felt the elevator bounce to a halt. A moment passed before the doors rattled open.

  The apartment was a contrast to the chaos below it. Downstairs was disorder and fun, but this penthouse was a monument to order and severity. It was also like going back in time.

  Kent walked out of the elevator, past Grecian columns that reached from the floor to the ceiling to make the apartment look like an ancient temple. He studied the sculptures and paintings based on Greek mythology that were everywhere. Looking farther, he could see a bay window that opened onto a huge balcony, a cool breeze rippling the surface of a lighted pool.

  Kent walked through the apartment, almost stunned with awe. He had never expected Roland's mythological obsession to go this far. This wasn't just an apartment. It was a temple to Roland himself, who was also known as Pluto, the ruler of a computerized underworld. It was only now that Kent realized that Roland had a god complex in very literal terms.

  His reverie was broken by a faint crash. It came from a plasma TV by another window, tuned to the Vulcan Network. The screen showed Vulcan security guards still wrestling Janet to the ground as she continued to scream at the cameras.

  "Turn off your computers!" she was yelling. "You've got to listen to me! You're all gonna die!"

  The TV exploded in a flash of sparks. It toppled off the wall to crash to the floor, leaving a bullethole on the wall where the TV used to be.

  "Hello, Reynolds," a voice behind him said.

  Kent whirled to see a man in a gray suit standing behind him. The man held a large gun. It was Roland Weaver. His upper lip had red streaks of blood that he wiped away with the back of his hand.

  "I'm glad we could have this chance to talk," Roland said in a surprisingly calm tone.

  Kent raised his own gun to aim at Roland's head. "Don't move."

  "You've been quite a nuisance to me, Kent. You and your little girlfriend. The world knows about Cerberus' existence. They are taking precautions as we speak."

  "Shut up. Back off and put the gun down."

  Roland didn't seem to hear Kent's words. His eyes were wide and distant, almost seeing through Kent. "You've saved millions of people. It's a shame you didn't have the sense to save yourself."

  Roland lifted his gun. Kent was about to pull the trigger on his own weapon when Roland fired. Searing pain lanced through his hand. Kent screamed and dropped his gun. He looked down at his hand to see a bloody hole in the middle of its palm.

  Roland fired again. The glass window behind Kent exploded, crashing down, sending a wash of frigid air into the room. Kent staggered to a nearby column standing between him and Roland, using it for cover.

  His heart pounded so hard Kent could barely breathe. The pain in his hand grew beyond imagination as he felt the broken bones grind against each other. Sweat prickled on his forehead as he realized he was going to die.

  "The police should be here in three minutes," Roland said. "Midnight. At midnight, my creation is due to kill millions. I was looking forward to it. I suppose you'll have to do."

  Cold air flooded through the penthouse from the open window, raising goosebumps on Kent's skin. He listened to Roland's footsteps
padding softly on the carpet, coming closer. Kent tried desperately to think of a plan, but all he could think of was that Troy would be alone. Kent wondered if he had updated his will. He couldn't remember.

  "You've achieved nothing, you know," Roland called out. "After I kill you, I'll erase all the records on my computer. Herring is dead, Sonya will die in prison before she has a chance to testify. The virus's unusual affinity for my operating system will be called a coincidence. No one can connect me with Cerberus. I'll sue your girlfriend for libel, then after I win, I'll have her killed."

  A weapon. Kent needed a weapon. Roland came closer. Kent didn't dare come out from behind the column. That might expose himself. But Roland was getting closer. He needed a weapon. Fast.

  "You have no proof." Roland sounded so close Kent could hear his raspy breathing between words. "And after the hoopla has died down, I'll alter the Cerberus virus and release it again. This time, you won't be around to interfere."

  Roland's shadow emerged in front of Kent, shrinking as he drew even closer. Kent's eyes fell on the pedestal in front of him. It supported a Grecian urn decorated with figures of the Olympic games.

  Roland's voice took on a mocking tone as he said, "I do have a vaccination program for Cerberus, you know. It's safe in my computer room. That was the other part of my plan. After all the fuss, Vulcan would release a vaccination program for Cerberus. I would make another fortune and be hailed as a hero for destroying a virus I created in the first place. But now it could be used to connect me with Cerberus. I'll have to destroy it. Then nothing will save--"

  Kent lunged forward to grab the urn. His injured hand cried out in pain, but Kent ignored it. He swung the urn at Roland, who looked up at him with a shocked expression. The urn crashed onto Roland's head, exploding into shards. Roland staggered. Kent made a grab for the gun, but Roland brought it up, out of his reach, even as he reeled from the blow. Kent dove aside as the gun went off again, punching a hole in the wall.