Michael Vey 3 ~ Battle of the Ampere (9 page)

Five years earlier, when Ostin was ten, on a summer vacation trip to his aunt’s home in Las Vegas, his parents had taken him to a magic show where the magician, the Magnificent David Hoodoo, had
escaped from a bank vault suspended thirty feet in the air. He had also made a fully grown African elephant disappear onstage. While the crowd applauded wildly at the illusion, it vexed Ostin that he couldn’t figure out how either trick was done. He had resolved to figure them out but never got around to it. After he returned home, he was distracted by Shark Week and a new interest in robotics.

“That won’t work. The thing was staged. This isn’t.” He pounded on his RESAT. As the teens were checked into the jail, the Peruvian soldiers had removed their hoods, handcuffs, and foot shackles but had left the RESATs connected.

“Idiots,” Ostin said, looking at the box fastened to his chest. “They don’t even know what the thing does. It doesn’t work on normal people. It’s not a Taser—it’s the opposite of a Taser.” He examined the box. “Wait a minute. . . . Does this thing work like a Taser?” He reached around and unfastened the box from his chest, which was no more difficult than removing a backpack. Red and green diodes began flashing wildly on the plastic-coated box, followed by a soft, high-pitched squeal. The RESAT was designed to activate if it was tampered with, but for a normal human, it was as pointless as trying to drown a fish. He used the metal clip of the RESAT’s buckle to pry off its back, then set the plate aside and examined the circuitry.

“Yep, there’s the capacitor. It’s huge. I bet it holds a million volts. What’s this . . . oh right, of course. Hmm, I bet if I . . .”

It took him less than half an hour to figure out how to rewire the machine. When he was done he held the wires two inches apart and electricity sparked between them.

“Mega-epic voltage,” he said. “This will blow them out of their boots.” He thought for a moment, then said, “No, it needs to do more than shock them.” He carefully reexamined the circuitry. After another five minutes he smiled. “So that’s how it does that. Clever. If I divert this right here . . . Now we’re talking.” He grinned. “Now I just need someone to test it on.”

A
s soon as all the teens were secured, the army began interrogations. Taylor, who they guessed to be the leader of the group, was the first to be taken from her cell. As she walked, handcuffed, out of the room she wished Michael was with her, then felt bad for thinking such a thing.
No. Anyplace but here.

She was escorted down the hallway by two Peruvian military police who she tried to reboot but was unable to with the RESAT sucking out most of her power—though she did get one of them to trip. At least she thought she did. He might have just been clumsy.

She was brought to the interrogation room—a small, rectangular cell with a two-way mirror on one wall. In the center of the room was a square, wooden table with two chairs facing each other. The chair closest to the door was already occupied, and as she entered she could see the back of a man’s head, or at least the Elgen helmet he was wearing, the ones the Elgens always wore around her.

The soldiers walked Taylor to the empty chair, which faced the mirror. One of the soldiers pulled out the chair while the other unlocked Taylor’s cuffs.

“Thank you,” she said. She rubbed her wrists, which were already sore from the cuffs.

The seated man looked at her for a moment, then said softly, “Please have a seat.”

Taylor glanced at the two soldiers flanking her, then slowly sat down. The two soldiers left the room. The man seated in front of her looked Peruvian, though he was taller than most of the soldiers she’d seen. He was young and, under different circumstances, she might have thought he was kind of hot. There was a pad of lined paper in front of him with a pen. The last time she’d sat down with an adult like this was during her faculty interview for varsity cheerleader.

For a moment the man just stared at her, as if sizing her up. Then, to her surprise, he smiled at her. “Welcome,” he said. He put out his hand, but Taylor didn’t take it. He held it out for a few seconds, then cocked his head and put his hand back in his lap.

“My name is Cesar,” he said. “What is your name?”

He spoke almost without an accent, and Taylor thought he sounded too pleasant for what he was doing. Taylor just pursed her lips and stared at him. After a full minute of silence he said, “Your name?”

“You already know who I am,” Taylor said. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be wearing that helmet.”

“That is true,” the man said. “I just want to hear you say it.”

“I’m not a toy,” she said. She turned her head away from him.

“I don’t think you’re a toy. I’m just trying to develop a . . . rapport.”

Taylor didn’t respond. The man looked at her for a moment, then said, “You’re not going to talk to me?”

She didn’t answer.

“Could you please tell me where you’re from?” He shifted in his chair. When Taylor didn’t answer he said, “From your accent I am
guessing that you’re from the United States; perhaps somewhere in the west.”

“Why do you keep asking me things you already know?”

The man looked at her for a moment, then stood up and walked over to Taylor’s side and crouched down next to her. He spoke softly, just above a whisper. “You know that you’re being watched and recorded. I am not going to hurt you. But if you don’t cooperate with me, then they’ll just get someone else who will make you cooperate—someone with more . . . forceful methods. Perhaps one of the Elgen’s people.”

Taylor still didn’t look at him. “So it’s the good cop, bad cop routine,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s on every cop show in America. One of you plays the nice cop who acts like he cares about me, while the other plays the bad cop who wants to bust my chops, so I confide to the good cop.”

He nodded. “I see. Good cop, bad cop. I’ll have to remember that. But this is not an American TV show. The Elgen corporation is very influential, and they want you very badly. I’m not with them; I’m with the Servicio de Inteligencia Nacional. We are called SIN.”

“You call yourself SIN? Is that supposed to make me trust you?”

“I suppose in English that it is an unfortunate acronym. But we are like your CIA. We collect information about groups that are a threat to our country.”

She looked at him incredulously. “You think
we’re
a threat to your country?”

“You and your colleagues
are
a threat to my country,” he replied. “So you can talk to me, or you can talk to someone who is . . . not me.”

Taylor just looked at him for a moment, then said, “What do you want to know?”

He walked back to his seat and picked up his pen. “We’ll begin with your name. What is your name?”

“Taylor.”

“Taylor what?”

“Taylor Swift.”

He looked at her coolly. “Okay, Miss Swift. What state in the United States are you from?”

“Utah.”

“Utah,” he repeated. “Tall mountains. Who sent you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who sent you to Peru? Someone wanted the power plant destroyed; who was it? A rival corporation? A foreign military power?”

“It wasn’t anyone. We didn’t come down to destroy the power plant. We came down because the Elgen were keeping my friend’s mother captive.”

“What friend?”

Taylor looked down for a moment, then said, “Just a friend.”

“Someone we have in captivity?”

She looked at him. “Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Ostin,” she said.

He wrote something on the pad.

“How did you get to Peru?”

“We flew.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Which airline?”

Taylor swallowed. “Uh, Delta.”

“We have checked the records of every airline that flies into Peru, and there is no record of you and your friends ever arriving.”

“We drove,” Taylor said.

“You drove to Peru?”

Taylor nodded.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded again.

“How long did it take you to drive from . . . Utah?”

“A little over a week.”

“Really?”

She swallowed. “Give or take a few days.”

“Where are the cars you drove?”

“We sold them once we got down here.”

He tapped his pad with his pen. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“To whom?”

“I don’t know who they were. Just some guys we met. I think they were probably drug dealers because they paid in cash. They didn’t want us to ask a lot of questions.”

“And where are your passports?”

“They took them from us.”

“The . . . drug dealers who bought your car?”

“Yes. I mean, no. The passport people.”

“The passport people?”

“Why do you keep repeating everything I say?”

“I just want to be sure that I am understanding you. The passport people took your passport. You mean the passport agents at the border.”

“If that’s what you call them.”

He nodded. “They don’t usually keep them.”

“They kept ours.”

“Did you cross the Panama Canal by ferry, or did you just drive around it?”

Taylor squinted. “We drove around it.” Then added, “It was faster.”

He nodded. “I’m sure it was.” He looked at her for a moment, then stood. “Okay, Taylor Swift. Thank you for your cooperation. One last question.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you plan on holding a concert while you’re in Peru?”

Taylor blushed.

“But if you drove from the U.S. to Peru in one week, you should be a race-car driver instead of a famous singer, because it would take at least three weeks if you never stopped. But what is most impressive is that you drove around the Panama Canal. I’ve heard of people walking on water, but driving on water is even more miraculous.”

He leaned forward. “I’m disappointed in you, Taylor Ridley from Meridian, Idaho. Aside from your first name, I don’t believe you’ve told me a single truth since we began. I don’t think you have any idea how much trouble you’re in. You’ve cost this country millions and millions of dollars.”

“Bill me,” Taylor said.

The man grinned. “They just might, you know. The cost will be your life.” He leaned forward. “You don’t really understand how serious this is, do you? You and your friends have been branded terrorists. The punishment for terrorism in this country is execution.”

Taylor’s eyes began to well up. But still she didn’t speak.

“All right, then,” he said, turning toward the door. “We’ll see how you do with the Elgen interrogators.” He turned to go.

“Wait,” Taylor said. “I’m sorry.”

He stopped and looked back. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“I’ll tell you the truth.”

He looked at her for a moment, then said, “Will you?”

She exhaled slowly. “I’ll tell you what I can. I promise.”

“We’ll see what good your promise is.”

“What I told you about my friend’s mother was true. That’s why we came.”

“Which friend?”

Taylor swallowed. “Someone you don’t know. Look, you need to know something. You’ve got the wrong guys.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t blow up the power plant?”

“I’m telling you that the Elgen are the bad guys. They’re not here to help your country. They’re here to take it over. Once they control all your electricity, they will control your country. We did you a favor.” Taylor looked into his eyes. “I’m telling you the truth. We didn’t come to blow up an electricity plant. We’re a bunch of teenagers. At home I’m a cheerleader. We only came to Peru because they kidnapped my boyfriend’s mother.”

“Who kidnapped your boyfriend’s mother?”

“The Elgen.”

He just looked at her. “And why would they do that?”

“Because they were trying to catch us.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come.”

“I know. But it was his mother.”

He nodded. “So, did you find her?”

“Yes.”

He looked at her skeptically. “And where is your boyfriend’s mother now?”

“She got away.”

“With your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“What is your boyfriend’s name?”

She hesitated. Finally she said, “Michael.”

“Michael what?”

“Michael Vey.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I’m supposed to believe this?”

“Believe what you want to believe,” Taylor said. “But why would a bunch of high school kids come to Peru to blow up an electricity plant?”

He crossed his arms. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. But you haven’t told me anything that makes sense.”

“I’ve told you the truth. You can believe me now, or you can believe me after the Elgen take over your country.”

“My country. Speaking of which, how did you get into the country?”

She hesitated.

“I need to know.”

She paused a moment longer, then slowly breathed out. “There are people besides us who know how bad the Elgen are. They flew us down in their plane.”

“What people?”

“I don’t know anything about them.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not a good enough answer.”

“I’m telling you the truth. They only talk to us by cell phone. I
don’t know who they are. The guy calls himself ‘the voice.’ ”