Chapter 66 – Agents
Sunday, August 2, 2308
A short time later, feeling good after the proper meal, Ashley moved stealthily through the sporting goods store. She didn't think anyone was looking for her, but she reasoned that it would be profitable to avoid others, so that when the time came, she wouldn't be out of practice.
She found the most expensive hoverboard in the shop and a top-shelf whip-sail. She picked out a new set of clothes, changed in the dressing room and carried the items and tags to the automated check out.
When asked for payment, she entered the family code into the terminal. Alarms didn't go off, the terminal didn't hiss, smoke, or burst into flames. It processed her purchase and asked her to have a lovely day.
Outside, Ashley ripped open the kite. It was tricky, but she assembled the sail and attached it to the board's central grommet. Standing the board up was more difficult still.
The sail restricted her to just a couple directions, forcing her to acknowledge the breeze and respond to it. She practiced in a small abandoned parking lot near the shopping center. She had two walls to bank off of, and if she wanted to get creative, there was a parking garage across the central walkway.
It was the railing she was preparing for. From this level, there were eight railings she'd need to clear before it would be just her, the board and the horizon. Ash wasn't sure she was up to it just yet. The way she'd done so far, she was more likely to fall off the kite than ride it.
It had taken Dr. Te the better part of an hour to properly modify his server to mirror Ashley’s ocular streams to Captain Snow’s amplifier. And as helpful as this was, it didn’t actually help Ana pinpoint her daughter’s location as fast as she’d have liked. They’d cut in after Ashley purchased the kite and watched her during her practice. To say the child struggled was an understatement.
Ashley had been at it for almost twenty minutes when the federal agents showed up, putting an end to her practice. They waited until she had a particularly ugly spill.
She saw them coming, four men in two teams, from both directions. She picked herself up and dusted the dirt from her new jeans and sweatshirt.
They stood all around her now. Two of them, the junior two, had their hands on their weapons.
"Is there some kind of problem?" Ash asked. The idea of picking up the kite and running for the rail had occurred to her.
It seemed to have occurred to them too, they had positioned themselves to block her in every direction. They would catch her, and they knew it.
"We need you to come with us." The closest one spoke. Ash suspected the role was interchangeable.
"I need your gun," she said.
The agents looked at each other, confused.
Ash stepped forward, her hand snaking into the man's jacket. She spun, coming away with his weapon and ending up behind him.
The other suits drew but hesitated, as the guy in front blocked Ashley. From behind him, she opened fire, killing two and wounding the third.
The disarmed leader elbowed her in the head, knocking her to the ground. Ashley fired twice, once as she went down and again with her rough landing, killing the lead man.
The wounded agent fired at her. Three rounds zipped by her head and arm as Ashley ducked behind a park bench and trashcan. He'd missed.
She slipped behind a utility box.
Consumed with his injury, the agent didn't see her.
She slipped further away, flanking him. She then approached from behind. The man struggled into a crouch.
Ash stayed in his blind spot, taking the last two steps, she was directly behind him now.
He stood, took a difficult breath and coughed.
She reached forward and closed her freehand over the pistol. Her other hand smashed her heavy gun into the side of his head.
He collapsed unconscious.
Ash tucked the hostage weapon into her belt and dragged the kite away from the bodies.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. Holding the mast as a soldier with his rifle, she ran straight for the ledge.
Ashley stair-stepped a bench and then the rail. Keeping the kite horizontal, as though it were a giant wing, she leapt into the sky.
The next floor was coming up fast, Ashley dropped the board, the mast and sail pivoted, the board swinging under her feet.
She came down, accelerating toward the next rail and over.
With the next level, she fell less, the sail took up more of the weight, and suddenly she was airborne.
Level by level, she gained altitude, until it was clear she was no longer over the shopping center at all. And like some cartoon character who has realized he’s going to fall, gravity stretched its hand out to her and the board began to lose altitude.
Deputy Director Von Kalt stood on the patio, several hundred yards behind her, and watched the girl sail out into the empty sky. He held the Metachron in his hand. Three of his agents were dead. Emergency medical technicians were tending to the wounded man. Several agents stood on the balcony, watching her escape and coordinating with pursuit squads.
Her brother was caught. He was in the system. Von Kalt didn’t have him yet, but that was just a formality. If she hadn’t run for an international border yet, she wasn’t going to now. All Von Kalt had to do was find the boy, and she would come to him.
He had felt her presence. Or rather, the Metachron had sensed the Micronix. It was getting more and more difficult for him to tell the difference between the pocket computer’s suggestions and his own desires.
The director dropped the device into his pocket and rubbed his eyes. Even without holding it, the mental projections of the device were still present. Von Kalt was wired into the camera systems of three satellites, his approaching tactical vehicles, and several other reconnaissance teams.
Dr. Fox’s magical little device had given him a hundred hands and a thousand eyes. He was damned if he wouldn’t use every one of them. Yet he found it ironic that none of those informed him, as clearly as his own intuition, as to where the scared child might be going.
Once Ashley had gotten airborne it didn’t take Captain Snow long to spot her. Von Kalt’s pursuing agents found themselves coming under fire from an unidentified source and pulled back.