Red Dawn (10 page)

“Yeah, I think you mentioned that before,” I reply, unable to quell my sarcasm.

“Alright, then. Why don’t you tell me what it is we’re searching for? I’ve done some of the preliminary research, but I haven’t tried to tap into their network yet.”

“Preliminary research?” I ask. Sounds heavy.

“You don’t think I just open up my web browser and log right in, do you?” he asks, giving me one of his notorious ‘How stupid can you be?’ stares. “I had to find a way in the back door. I’ll probably only get one shot and there’s no guarantee I’ll even get through.”

“Please, just try,” Shaye pleads. If I can’t convince him to stop being such a jackass and do the job, maybe she can. Even Blaine can’t be entirely impervious to the suffering of one of his own.

“We need to look at their surveillance tapes for Saturday night,” I tell him.

Blaine sneers. “Tapes? Don’t be ridiculous. Everything’s digital now.”

“Whatever! You know what I mean.” I turn to Nik. Bringing reinforcements was definitely one of my better ideas. “Little help here, please?”

“We probably have hours of footage to review. This will go much smoother if you two don’t antagonize each other.” He turns to Blaine and I’m more than happy to let Nik take charge. “Get busy. See if you can access their security systems. We’re looking for footage from one of the research labs. Probably between one and four in the morning. Shaye, do you still have the picture of Philips?”

“Yeah.” She hands the black and white printout to Blaine. “I pulled this from the web. It’s the best one I could find.”

Blaine studies the image and then turns his attention to the computer monitor in front of him without another word. I watch silently as he begins working. He’s docked his laptop with the desktop giving him two systems to work from. His slender fingers fly over the keyboard at lightning speed, pounding out codes that are meaningless to me, but which no doubt took great pains to create. I watch with interest for a while as he works, entering who knows what into the systems as he tries to penetrate Dwyer’s security. Eventually, I grow restless and begin to pace.

Waiting is mind-numbingly boring and Blaine insists on total silence while he works. Every time Shaye or I speak he gets all pissy and yells at us. Shaye’s resorted to meditation and I’m glad to see she’s getting some rest. Nik on the other hand has been screwing around on his phone for the last hour. Apparently I’m the only one unable to contain my nervous energy.

“Would you please sit down?” Blaine asks, breaking his own rule. “All that pacing is distracting.”

“How’s it coming?” I return, ignoring his request. “We’ve been at this forever.”

“Would you like me to slide over so you can drive?” Blaine gestures at his computers. “You’re more than welcome to take a crack at it if you think you can do better.”

“Okay, okay. Point taken,” I concede. “I’m just getting anxious. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

Blaine shoots me a glare that suggests I’m the biggest idiot he’s ever met before returning to his work.

“Come sit with me,” Nik says, reaching for my hand. The idea of curling up on Blaine’s bed isn’t exactly enticing, but there’s nowhere else to sit in his cramped dorm. All the extra space that normal people might use for futons or guest seating is dedicated to computer equipment and a bunch of junk I don’t care to identify.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” I tell Nik as he makes room for me on the bed.

“I know,” he murmurs, stroking my face. It’s a comforting gesture and I feel some of the tension melt from my muscles. “It’s because you care.”

“It’s a curse,” I say, giving him a wry smile.

We sit like that for a while and eventually my newfound patience is rewarded.

“I think I’ve got something,” Blaine says, adjusting the monitor so that we can see it better. Nik, Shaye and I rush to his side for a better look.

“You’re in!” Shaye’s more excited than any of us. She actually hugs Blaine in a show of gratitude. It’s further than I’d go, but who am I to judge?

“I gotta tell you, this had to be an inside job,” he tells us as he punches up the security footage. “This place has uber-security.”

“You got in,” I point out.

“First of all, I’m elite. This may be hard for you to believe, but there aren’t a lot of people who can do what I do. Besides, hacking their system is one thing, but physically getting in and out undetected? That’s a whole different level.”

“Okay. Let’s just focus on finding the footage with Philips,” Nik cuts in. He’s right. We need to stay on task.

“No worries. Getting in was the hard part,” Blaine explains. “Now that I’m in, I can tap into their security logs and track all of Philips’ movements. I can see exactly where Philips’ access card was scanned, where retinal scans were logged, everything.”

A few keystrokes later, we’re watching as Philips enters the lab. The time stamp on the video is 2:35am.

“Impressive.” And for once, I’m not being sarcastic. Blaine really is good.

“Here we go,” Nik says, pointing as Philips sits down at one of the computer terminals and begins to work.

“I can’t believe it,” I mutter. “It really is Philips. It’s just like Viktor said.”

On the screen, Philips boots up the computer and begins typing, presumably copying and deleting all traces of the research. I guess we have to assume that’s what he’s doing since we can’t exactly confirm it ourselves. It’s actually pretty boring to watch.

“I’m just going to speed up the replay,” Blaine tells us as he sets the video to fast forward. “I can stop at any point. Just say the word.”

The images begin to fly past. There’s not much to see. Philips types a little, hooks up an external hard drive, selects the files he wants to download, and waits for them to copy. Then he repeats the searching and copying steps. This happens no less than a dozen times before the pattern changes.

“Back it up,” I order Blaine, leaning over his shoulder. If it bothers him, he doesn’t say. “And slow it down.”

“What’s he doing?” Nik asks.

This time Philips digs through his satchel and pulls out a granola bar of some kind. He eats it nonchalantly, piece by piece, as his files are copying.

“I don’t get it,” I say. “He’s completely unmoved by the enormity of what he’s doing. Vampires are going to die and he’s just sitting there having a midnight snack!”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Shaye cuts in. She looks utterly hopeless. “Philips was so passionate about his work. And he was so sincere when he said that he wanted to help me.”

“It would seem that he lied to you then, wouldn’t it?” Blaine says as he leans back in his chair.

“No,” Shaye protests. “It’s not possible. I would have known.”

“Something must have changed,” Nik interjects, echoing Viktor’s earlier words.

We turn our attention back to the monitors and see Philips pack up the hard drive. Before leaving the terminal he inserts a flash drive in one of the USB ports.

“What’s he doing now?” I ask Blaine.

“Just a guess, but he’s probably dropping a bomb on the network.” One look at our blank faces and he elaborates. “A program to make sure the deleted files can’t be recovered.”

“Something isn’t right,” I say. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about the footage was off. Only the harder I try to grasp at the thought, the more elusive it becomes. “Let’s see it again.”

To his credit, I make Blaine replay it five more times before he loses it.

“Alright, show time is over,” Blaine snaps. “I think you’ve seen enough. We’ve only got a few minutes until curfew and I’m not interested in getting busted by Pratt. Besides, I think I’ve held up my end of the deal.”

“Agreed,” I tell him as I follow Nik and Shaye out the door. “We’re even.”

Chapter Thirteen

Back in our room, Shaye and I get ready for bed. I’m surprised at the ease with which she seems to fall asleep. After all, it’s her life on the line. Then again, maybe it’s the illness. She looked exhausted tonight and probably couldn’t stay awake if she wanted to.

As it is, I’m the one who can’t seem to shut out the world and drift off into lala land. My head is pounding like a pressure cooker about to explode. I toss and turn for hours watching the night tick by on my bedside clock. I can’t get Philips betrayal or the surveillance footage out of my head. The idiosyncrasy from the video continues to tease my brain, just out of reach. I try burying my face in the pillow, hoping to drown out the tormenting thoughts. It doesn’t work.

With dawn approaching I finally drift off to sleep. I dream and my head is filled with decadent thoughts. Chocolate truffles dance through my mind like a sinful indulgence. One of many.

“Katia, wake up!” Shaye yells, shaking me awake. “You’re going to be late for class if you don’t get up soon!”

“What else is new?” I grumble, rolling over as I shake off the vestiges of sleep. I must have forgotten to set my alarm again. I am
so
not a morning person.

“How’d you sleep?” Shaye asks as I throw back the covers and drop my feet to the floor. She’s already dressed and is busy applying make-up. It doesn’t mask the exhaustion on her face. Seeing her like that, the events of the prior day come flooding back to me and I want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head. Only that won’t solve anything.

“Crappy,” I respond, contemplating the covers again. Knowing what we know, how are we supposed to just sit in class like nothing is wrong? “Weird dreams…” And then it hits me like a Mack truck. I bolt across the room and grab Shaye by the elbow.

“Shaye, I know what it was that was bothering me about that video.”

She stops mid-application. Only one of her lips is glossed, but she’s abandoned the effort entirely.

“By his own admission, Philips was a purist. I offered him a truffle at the New Year’s Eve party last year. You should have seen his reaction. I might as well have offered him a rotting corpse for how he reacted. I remember his exact words:
I only put into the body what it needs to survive: blood
,” I tell her.
“
He was eating on the video, not
feeding
.”

“So, what do you think it means?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I just…” I trail off. This whole thing is so frustrating. How could Philips do this? He hasn’t just betrayed Shaye, he’s betrayed all of the vamps who were counting on that research for survival.

“It doesn’t add up. Philips didn’t even try to hide his identity. He just sits there stuffing his face at the scene of the crime. No nerves, no fear, nothing. Knowing he’d be caught. Knowing the whole thing was being filmed. Something isn’t right,” I say for what seems like the millionth time. “I wish we could talk to him, but he’s probably being tortured at the hands of the Linkuri by now.”

“Assuming they found him, you mean,” Shaye responds. She finishes applying the lip gloss and checks her reflection in the mirror. Her lips are now a deep shade of purple and sparkle like they’re made of diamonds. Only Shaye could pull off that look outside of Halloween. She really should have been a child of the 80’s. Satisfied, she recaps the tube and tosses it in a drawer. “Listen, we still have some time before class. I want to talk to Keegan.”

“Why?” I ask.

“What if it’s not Philips?” she counters. “Keegan’s been around. Maybe he’ll see something on the video that we missed.”

By ‘around’ I’m pretty sure she’s hinting at criminal ties. I decide not to ask. I don’t know a lot about Keegan, but I know he’s had a difficult life. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. You heard Blaine. Their security is top notch. Besides, we saw Philips with our own eyes.”

“Can I borrow it or not?” she asks, eyeing the flash drive lying on my desk. Blaine copied all of the footage for us, and while I’d like to believe he did it out of the goodness of his heart, I’m more inclined to believe he just didn’t want us coming back.

“If we skip breakfast we can probably make it back before classes start,” I agree, heading for my closet. “Give me five minutes. I’m going with you. There are still too many questions and not enough answers.”

**********

Keegan watches the video as Shaye explains everything that’s happened. We’re sitting in his cramped apartment over the barn. I’ve never been up here before and I can’t help but take a curious look around as he and Shaye hang over the computer. I guess it’s a typical bachelor pad. The leather couch where I sit is worn but comfortable, and the coffee table is littered with magazines, books, and one very dirty ashtray.
Eww
. How did I not know Keegan was a smoker? He’s just dropped a notch in my book, but it must not bother Shaye. Judging by the overflowing ashtray and the pile of crusty work boots by the door, it doesn’t look like he’s a big fan of cleaning either. Then again, he probably doesn’t need to. I doubt he gets much company up here.

Keegan doesn’t say much at first. He just watches and listens as Shaye hovers anxiously at his side. He looks about as perplexed as I feel.

“Aye, it does seem fishy,” Keegan says, dragging a hand through his braided hair thoughtfully. He’s a good looking guy with creamy dark skin and penetrating eyes, but it’s his Irish accent that I like best. Everything he says sounds like poetry. I could listen to him talk for hours. “Perhaps there is a solution you’ve not considered.”

“Such as?” I ask. I like Keegan and value his opinion, but I’m not sure what we could have missed. We all watched the same video and it seemed pretty self-explanatory.

“Perhaps it was not your Dr. Philips who did this,” he says eyeing Shaye. He’s worried about her too and I’m starting to suspect she’s told him more about her current condition than she’s told me. He pauses for an eternity and I wonder if he’s afraid to voice his thoughts for fear of getting her hopes up. When he finally offers up his theory, it’s a wild one. “Perhaps it was a shifter.”

“Huh?” Shaye and I ask in unison. Our American English isn’t at all poetic, but at least I’m not the only one in the dark. I have no idea what he’s talking about and neither does Shaye.