Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3) Page 23

  Addison fidgeted with her hands. She wore a hot pink tank top and black leggings. Her pixie size no longer deterred me from seeing the real Addison: a self-confident, intelligent adult in a child’s body. I would not underestimate this little girl no matter how nervous she looked.

  After much deliberation, she finally said, “I owe you and Jack. I hurt you both, and I want to prove to you that you can trust me. You never would have traded me to save someone else, and I’m truly sorry that I did that to you. But it was my mom.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  I don’t know if she did it by instinct or habit, but by the time I’d crossed the room to the door, Addison had disappeared. I opened the door to find Jack standing on the other side. His hair was damp, and he had changed into a fresh T-shirt and khaki shorts.

  As he walked in, I scanned the room for any sign that Addison was still there. Coward. She was too afraid to face Jack. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her that, yes, she would be going to Palmyra to find a cure.

  But she’d be going with me, not instead of me.

  ~~~~~

  The makeshift control room had been set up by the time Jack and I arrived. Alyson had skipped dinner, refusing to take a break. She’d assembled the computers, configured the satellite WiFi connection, hung large screens on stands in the corner, and placed a projector on a table.

  I set a covered plate on the table and knelt down beside her. She was fighting to untangle a bundle of cords, gripping a bright yellow one and jerking it hard to free it from beneath a table leg. Her face reddened.

  I placed a hand over hers. “Alyson,” I whispered. Her hand shook beneath mine. “Why don’t you eat something.”

  She looked up at me and, with a puff, blew long strands of hair from her eyes. She fell back on her butt. “I just wanted to get everything set up. If we’re not completely prepared for anything and everything, Sandra will try—”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  Alyson shook her head. “No, it won’t. She’ll terminate anyone who gets in the way of her plan—including you, once she has what she wants from you. You have to be ready.”

  I squeezed her hand harder and pulled her to her feet. “You need to eat. You’re no good to any of us if you’re too weak to monitor the computers and process the information coming in.”

  After a little more protest, she sat at the table and began eating the salad and grilled tuna the chef had prepared.

  Jack pulled up a chair beside her. “I need you to level with me,” he said to her. “What are the chances that Lexi can pull off pretending she’s Maya while inside Palmyra?”

  Alyson stopped chewing and swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  “If it were your choice, would you allow her to do this?”

  She stared at Jack with determined eyes. “It’s not my choice. Sandra has something Lexi won’t live without.” The cure for Jack and Georgia. “And Lexi has something Sandra wants. Sandra won’t kill her yet. Not until she gets what she needs. But if she discovers her, she won’t let her go this time. She’d prefer for Lexi to choose to work with her willingly, but even if Lexi refuses...” She didn’t need to finish the thought. We all knew that Sandra wouldn’t hesitate to use force if it came to it. “So we have to make sure she’s not caught.”

  “Sandra’s my Darth Vader,” I chuckled. “Come to the dark side, Luke,” I said in my best deep voice.

  Jack stood abruptly and took two steps toward me, towering over me. “You’re laughing about this?”

  I flinched at his harsh voice and my smile faded. “No, Jack, I—”

  “Good. Because this isn’t funny. If you’re expecting me to support your decision to fight Sandra, my father, and the entire IIA, at least take this seriously.”

  I touched his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He jerked away from my touch and tried to take a step back, but I was faster. I put myself in front of him. “We laugh at this crazy shit, remember? We can’t control what they do, but we can choose how we react. Sandra Whitmeyer and John DeWeese will never kill my spirit. And I am done letting them hurt those I love. They have to be stopped. I will stop them. One way or another.”

  After a few beats, he broke eye contact and returned to Alyson. “Will you be able to control her tracker when it’s implanted? Sandra won’t be able to obtain complete power over her, right?”

  “That’s the idea.” Alyson wiped her mouth and took a drink of water. “It took me five years to perfect the tracker system. I know it inside and out. No one else will be able to override a tracker once I have control of it.”

  “What about Maya? What’s the status of her tracker?” I asked.

  My mother’s face seemed to light up with an energy I had been looking for since we first came aboard this vessel. “I was finally able to tap into information stored on her device, and redirect the signal from Sandra’s system. Now anytime Sandra sends a signal to Maya, I’ll know about it first. We can decide what Maya receives, and what she doesn’t.”

  “That’s good news,” I said, giving myself a minute to digest what she was saying. “Does that mean you could also redirect the signal to another tracker?”

  She smiled. “That’s exactly what it means. And I could send information to a tracker without sending it as a command to manipulate the host. In other words, once your tracker is in place and I’m running it, I’ll be able to send you the information that Sandra’s sending Maya. You can alter your interaction with her accordingly. But there’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?” Jack asked, his voice severe. When Alyson began fidgeting with her hands again, Jack continued. “You said ‘Once you have control of it.’ You don’t currently have control of Lexi’s tracker, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  A growl erupted from somewhere deep within Jack. He scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “The trackers are all synced with Sandra’s system on the island,” Alyson explained. “And the newest trackers were designed for quick getaways and multiple methods of communicating. When Sandra blows up a lab, she needs to be able to move fast, and she can’t afford to give up control of her trackers—not even for a second. Most of the trackers—the ones scattered around the world—communicate with Sandra’s control system via satellite links. But when a clone is in close proximity to the system—basically, if they’re on Palmyra Atoll itself—the system is set up to communicate with them via a local cell tower instead. The satellite system then serves as a backup.”

  “Okay, so Lexi’s tracker will sync up via the cell tower. That means we just tap into the cell network, right?” Jack asked. “That shouldn’t be any harder than accessing a satellite.”

  I studied my mom, and saw the set of lines running vertically on her forehead between her eyes.

  “I tried. The cell tower on Palmyra is off the grid.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s not part of the public network. As of right now, we can’t intercept the signal, and we can’t pull information from it.”

  I looked at my mom. “Tell me what I have to do.”

  Alyson took my hands in hers. “You’ll have to find the server on Palmyra and switch the tracker communications from cell tower to satellite before Sandra discovers that you’re not Maya.”

  I didn’t dare look at Jack after hearing this. “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “I’m hoping Kyle will be able to tell you how to get to the server room. He’s been trying to hack into the computers, looking for a layout of the building. There should be some sort of switch—like a circuit breaker—somewhere in the room that houses the servers. Once the connection with the cell tower is disabled, the system will automatically default back to satellite communications.”

  “As easy as that? Just flip a switch? ‘On’ for satellite, ‘off’ for cell tower?” A hysterical laugh threatened to break through the surface of my sanity.

  From the look on Alyson’s face, it wasn’t going to be as easy as turning a light on
or off. “Physically flipping the circuit breaker may sound easy. But finding it, getting to it, and remaining undetected until you do so, will definitely not be. Make no mistake, Lexi. This is very dangerous.”

  I nodded. “I’ll just have to find this room, while pretending to be Maya, and pray that Sandra doesn’t discover my true identity.”

  The door to the control room opened, and in stumbled Maya, followed by Coach, who had a hand wrapped around her upper arm.

  “Speak of the devil’s spawn,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

  I straightened at the sight of Maya. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, chocolate brown mixed with ruby red hanging around her neck and down the front of her chest. Jack’s fingers curled into a fist.

  I covered his hand with mine. Down, boy. I know it’s hard, but remember, she’s just a victim. And Alyson has control of her now. Of course, Maya didn’t know that part.

  Fred and Georgia entered next. Georgia crossed the room and sat in a chair facing everyone. Fred stood behind her and massaged her shoulders, his brow scrunched up with worry.

  “What do I have to do to convince you I’m not going to jump off this ship and swim away?” Maya asked, jerking her arm away from Coach and putting space between them.

  “As soon as we’ve figured out how to remove your tracker, you’ll be free to go wherever you wish,” I assured her. “But for now, we can’t risk the chance that Sandra will find another way inside your head.”

  “I haven’t received any orders from her in days.”

  “And that works in your favor.” I looked at Alyson, who nodded, confirming that no information had been transmitted from Sandra to Maya in some time. So either Sandra knew that Maya had been compromised, or she was simply too busy destroying other lives.

  The biggest problem with my plan to crush Sandra and her project was the number of variables I had no control over. What if I didn’t find what I needed to cure Georgia and Jack of whatever was affecting them? What if I couldn’t find Jonas? What if Sandra found a way inside my mind again, or figured out that it was me instead of Maya on Palmyra? What if I couldn’t get the trackers on Palmyra switched from their cell tower to the satellite system Alyson could control?

  I massaged the spot on my chest over my heart.

  “Lexi,” Georgia said with a scratchy voice. “I’m afraid I’m not much use to you right now, but I’ll gladly keep Maya busy and out of the way.”

  Maya crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “I hardly need a babysitter.”

  “That would be perfect, Georgia. You and Fred are in charge of Maya. I’ll keep you in the loop about everything going on and what the plan is as we near Palmyra.”

  “Maya,” I added, “if you give us any trouble, we’ll make sure that the FBI records reflect your involvement in helping Sandra kill thousands of human clones.”

  Maya gasped, but surely she saw in my face how serious I was.

  Just as I was about to ask Coach to go over my new weapons, Kyle and Briana burst through the door, both panting. Briana fisted a hand over her heart as if she was encouraging it to slow down.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

  “I was wrong,” Kyle breathed. “There’s more.”

  I cocked my head, studying him.

  “More what?” Alyson threw her napkin on her plate and pushed away from the table.

  “Buildings,” Briana said loudly. “The lab and facilities are much larger than we thought.”

  Kyle’s frantic eyes narrowed in on mine. “This place is huge. She’s built a giant complex in the middle of the island. But it’s not just that. I tapped into a lot of government documents, Lexi. Your dad knew about the facility. He knew, and he told the FBI. They’ve been sitting on the information.”

  ~~~~~

  “I didn’t see anything about Palmyra in my dad’s journals, did you?”

  Jack walked two steps behind me along the upper deck of the yacht. “No, nothing.”

  “If the FBI knows about the facility at Palmyra, does that mean the NSA knows? Does the president?” I turned when Jack didn’t answer.

  He grabbed the railing of the boat and bowed his head as if catching his breath.

  “Jack?” I went to him.

  He lifted his head slowly, and his eyes pinned me where I stood. A tropical breeze blew blond hair off of his forehead. His face was flushed. Beads of sweat dotted his nose and cheeks. “I don’t want you to go to Palmyra, Lexi. I want you to drop this crusade for revenge against Sandra and my father. They’re not worth it. But you are. I want you to have the life you deserve, and it will never be possible if you keep this up. Sandra will steal your soul, or she’ll kill you. Either one is not the life I want for you.” Moisture pooled in his eyes. He stumbled forward, keeping one hand on the railing.

  I put my arm around him and steadied us. “Why are you saying this? Why now? We’re almost there. I can do this. You need this cure.”

  A tear fell down his cheek. “I know Sandra told you the truth. I’m dying. Georgia and I are going to die. Whatever she did to us is eating away at our insides.”

  I swallowed hard. “No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” A sob rumbled through my throat. “You know Sandra has the cure. She did this to draw us here. We’ll get it. You’re going to be fine.”

  Jack about lost his balance again. “Don’t you get it? She doesn’t care about me. Or Georgia. She only cares about you. Using you. And you’re walking into a trap. If I’m going to die, I want to rest knowing that you’re going to live a long, happy life—away from her.” He closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them.

  “Let’s get you back to your stateroom,” I said.

  I slipped an arm around Jack’s back and let him put some of his weight on me. There was no way I could hold him, though.

  “Lex?”

  I looked up. Kyle stood in front of us. I didn’t know how much he had heard. “Can you help us?”

  Together we got Jack into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.

  “What are you going to do?” Kyle sat in a winged back chair by the balcony door. It was a lovely room, one of the master suites. I wanted Jack to have it, to be comfortable. I had taken a small neighboring guest room.

  “You heard him?”

  “Yeah.”

  I watched Jack’s breathing even out, become almost peaceful. I faced Kyle. “I love him more than I ever thought possible.”

  “I know.”

  “If he dies…”

  Kyle rested his elbows on his knees, bowed his head. He had to be thinking of Dani.

  I walked over and added a blanket on top of Jack and tucked it in around him. I brushed my fingers along his forehead and trailed it down along his cheekbone. “I’m going to destroy that woman,” I whispered. I turned to Kyle. “You in or out? And don’t say in unless you’re all in.”

  “I’m in,” he said without hesitation.

  I nodded.

  Jack moaned in his sleep. I sat down on the bed beside him and picked up his hand. “I’m sorry, Jack. But you’re wrong. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let Sandra get away with killing the last person I’ll ever love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Beautiful azure skies welcomed us on our second day in tropical paradise. As I looked out over the vast open water, my hand kept feeling for the starfish that usually hung around my neck—my last gift from my father.

  It had been there last night. But when I awoke that morning, it was missing. I’d searched my bunk for it, ripped off all the sheets, but it wasn’t there. I wondered if losing it was some kind of sign.

  If it was, it wasn’t good.

  I blinked back the coating of moisture in my eyes. I had bigger things to worry about now. Hopefully the necklace would turn up. And I couldn’t wear it where I was going anyway.

  To my left, Briana was sunning in an oversized lounge chair on the deck as if we were just a group of tourists out for a private cruise.
Coach, Seth, and Alyson sat at a nearby table, and by the way they hugged their coffee mugs, it looked like it had been a late night for them. Their occasional glances in my direction told me they were discussing my life without me. Typical.

  “Bree,” I whispered.

  She raised a hand and shielded her eyes from the harsh early morning sun. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Little Miss Trust Fund Baby herself.”

  “Cut the crap.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “I need you to put red streaks in my hair. I need to look exactly like Maya.”

  ~~~~~

  The captain and I stood on the bridge, located on the upper level of the expansive and exotic yacht. A host of crystal clear windows offered a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. Below the windows were a multitude of gauges and navigational instruments that would have given a passenger jet cockpit a run for its money. I had requested a personal tour of my high-priced transportation, and the captain had been thrilled to personally play the role of guide.

  “Can you show me on a map exactly where we are?” I asked, hoping to disguise my simple question as common curiosity.

  “We’re here.” He pointed to a spot in the middle of the blue, far from any landmass. “That, of course, is Hawaii, where we started. My instructions were to sail toward American Samoa, which is about twenty-six hundred nautical miles from our origin. We should be at about the halfway point by first light tomorrow.”

  Palmyra Atoll lay at the halfway point between Hawaii and American Samoa.

  We were almost there.

  ~~~~~

  The crew hustled about, setting a table for nine on the deck. We would have dinner under the stars. And afterward, I would allow my mother to insert one of Sandra’s trackers into my neck.

  We’d be near Palmyra by morning, and I needed to be ready.

  Dressed in jeans and a loose white button-down, sleeves rolled to the elbows, Jack stuffed his hands in his front pockets and stared out toward the ocean. His coloring looked better in the dim light of the lanterns. I circled the deck, admiring the set of his jaw, the lines of his shoulders and how, though sick, he still stood with an air of confidence.