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Trickster. Part 5

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Adrenaline sang in Gretchen's blood. "You don't have to call him," she said, pointing with her chin to a point past Joe's shoulder. "Here he comes now."

Joe turned to look and Gretchen slugged him with the flashlight. The man staggered in surprise but didn't fall. Gretchen hit him again, and this time he went down. Gretchen glanced quickly around. The main house was blocked from view by the equipment barn and no other workers were in sight. A small bit of luck to balance out the big chunk of bad.

"f.u.c.k," Gretchen muttered, looking down at Joe's motionless body. "Now what?"

"There," the boy said, pointing to a clump of ornamental bushes next to the equipment barn. "I'll help you drag him."

"You're quick on the uptake." Gretchen said as she grabbed one of Joe's wrists. The boy took the other. Together they dragged him toward the bushes.

"Faster on it than him," the boy said. "That was a really old trick."

"Still works," Gretchen pointed out, her calm voice belying the tension she felt. Someone could come by at any moment, might even be watching them now.

Once Joe's limp form had been stuffed into its leafy hiding place, Gretchen bent down and extracted his earpiece. Then she took the boy's hand and all but sprinted back toward the barn, only remembering at the last minute to slow down to a brisk walk when they came into sight of the house. Once they were in the equipment barn, however, they ran all the way to the equipment bay where Ben and Lucia were waiting. Computer parts and sprinkler equipment were scattered over the floor.

"Complication," Gretchen said as loudly as she dared above the noise. "Joe got suspicious. I had to hit him to keep him from calling Markovi, and I don't know how long he'll be out."

"Vik!" Lucia swore. She opened the nearly-empty equipment crate. "Get in, Jerry--hurry!"

The boy needed no further urging and jumped into the crate. Ben and Lucia carefully piled equipment on top of him while Gretchen kept a lookout, then they shut the lid and maneuvered the crate out of the bay.

Gretchen felt like a big sign hung over her head and flashed "Guilty! Guilty!" as they emerged with the crate into the bright sunlight and steered it toward the van. Ben tapped his ear and muttered to empty air while Gretchen and Lucia opened the van doors.

An alarm sounded just as they got the crate inside.

Douglas Markovi sat in his office and fumed. This stupid glitch had so far cost him an entire day's work, and it would show on the weekly statement. No doubt HQ would blame him for the whole thing and it would probably cut into his bonus, all because that G.o.ddammed b.i.t.c.h of a technician hadn't done her job right. He'd have to talk to legal about that, see what damages they could recover from Compulink. Meanwhile, maybe they could set up some lights in the cacao groves, get the hands off their lazy a.s.ses this evening and get some honest labor out of-- An alarm blasted through the room. Markovi jumped.

"Attention! Attention!" barked the computer. "A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention! A hand has left--"

Markovi waved a frantic hand over his desk computer and the holographic screen popped up. The alarm continued to blare. "Billy, close down the exits and show me which hand has left the farm. And shut off that G.o.ddammed noise!"

The alarm instantly shut off. "All hands are accounted for," the computer said.

"What? But you just said someone had left."

"Please restate request."

Markovi ground his teeth. "Billy, explain the inconsistency in the last two reports."

"No inconsistency found. All hands are accounted for."

The vidscreen chimed and flashed the words Incoming Call. Markovi tapped his desk. Alex appeared on the wall looking worried. "What's going on boss? Did someone go AWOL?" "What's going on boss? Did someone go AWOL?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Markovi snarled. "Get your a.s.s down to the quarters with Joe and do a physical head count. I want everyone--"

He was cut off from another blast of alarm noise. "Attention! Attention! A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention!"

"Billy, shut the f.u.c.k up!" Markovi yelled, and the computer obeyed. "Billy, run a count of all hands."

"All hands are accounted for."

"Billy, did any shackle bombs go off?"

"Negative."

The vidscreen flashed another incoming call, and a moment later, one of the Compulink techs--the wimpy one who Markovi had yelled at earlier--appeared on it.

"What do you mean?" Markovi demanded. "Does this have something to do with the alarm system?"

"How the h.e.l.l did we get a G.o.ddammed virus?" Markovi barked. "Our G.o.ddammed system is isolated."

The tech shrugged. "We can try to track it down for you, sir, since we're here." "We can try to track it down for you, sir, since we're here."

"It won't be our emergency rates, sir," the tech said. "We're already on the premises, so--"

"Attention! Attention! A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention!"

"Shut up, Billy!" Markovi screamed. Then to the tech, "Just f.u.c.king fix it!"

"Attention! Attention!"

Markovi had had it. "Billy, shut up and take the hand alarm system off-line for ten minutes. No more."

"Acknowledged."

"Now get off your a.s.s and get to work," Markovi ordered. The tech nodded and vanished from the screen.

Ben poked his head into the van. "Go!"

Lucia dePaolo muttered a quick prayer to Irfan and set to work, her white-scarred hands moving with swift, serene efficiency. The boy watched with both interest and trepidation as Lucia forced open the control panel on his wristband with a tiny pick and started on the electronic lock within. He stood inside the crate while Gretchen kept a lookout through the van window. His bands were newer than the ones she was used to picking, and they were going to take longer to work than she had thought.

"What if you make a mistake?" the boy whispered.

"I won't make a mistake," she told him quietly. "Just hold--" She broke off and stared at the band.

"Hold still?" the boy asked.

"Seven minutes left," Gretchen said.

Lucia's face remained expressionless, belying the pang of fear that temporarily overwhelmed her usual calm. The wristband contained a small detonator--another new feature. These shackles would do more than shock. Any slave who left the boundaries of the farm would probably lose a hand and a foot--easily repairable if he were found quickly enough, and a one-footed slave wasn't likely to be running anywhere. The bombs would doubtless also go off if she didn't get the bands removed before the alarm system came back on-line and detected tampering. Lucia spent several precious seconds debating whether she should first remove the shackles or disarm the bombs.

Lucia took a deep breath and murmured a short mantra to restore her peace of mind. This was a simple puzzle, one she could solve with Irfan's help.

"Five minutes," Gretchen said, then gasped. "Oh s.h.i.+t--it's that Alex guy. He's coming over to the van."

Wasting no movements, Lucia pushed the boy down into the crate and slid in after him. She fumbled around in the dark for a moment, pulled a flashlight from her belt, switched it on, and put it in her mouth. The boy huddled, scared and unhappy, on the floor of the crate as Lucia grabbed for his wrist again. Dim light, cramped quarters, time running out. Another deep, calming breath. Irfan was with her, everything would be fine.

"You guys seen Joe anywhere?" she heard Alex say.

"Not lately," Ben said. "Why?"

"I can't raise him." Alex paused. "Aren't you supposed to be working on the computer virus?"

"Nancy's already gotten started," Ben said. "She'll have the alarm system cleared up pretty quick, so Denise and I came back here for the program disks we'll use to check the rest of the system." His voice got louder. "You did did bring them, didn't you, Denise?" bring them, didn't you, Denise?"

"There in here somewhere," Gretchen shot back. "Probably won't take more than three minutes three minutes to find them." to find them."

Lucia pressed another section of the lock with her electric stylus and the wristband popped open. Lucia caught it just before it thudded to the floor of the crate. Mouth dry as a raisin, she reached for the boy's ankleband. This one should be easier since she now knew the lock mechanism better, but she had little time, so little time. The boy was shaking noticeably. He had to know about the shackle bombs. Telling the slaves about such a thing would be a powerful deterrent against escape.

For a moment Lucia considered stage-whispering to Gretchen that she needed more time, that Ben should contact Markovi and tell him to keep the alarm system off-line for a few more minutes. Then she realized that as "Nancy" she was supposed to be working on the computers in the equipment barn and there was no way Gretchen or Ben could know that she needed more minutes. Activating her earpiece and explaining to Ben over the radio, as "Nancy" would have done, would eat up too much time.

"Two minutes," Gretchen murmured.

The ankleband came off.

"Done!" she said hoa.r.s.ely. "Go!"

"Those disks aren't here," Gretchen said loudly. "We'll have to go back and get them while Nancy finishes up. It'll only take a minute a minute."

"Better go," Ben said, presumably to Alex. "Time is money, after all."

Lucia poked her head cautiously out of the crate in time to see Ben all but leap into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and drove away as quickly as he dared. Just as the van was about to round the first bend in the driveway, Lucia caught sight of a figure through the van's tinted rear windows. It was a man, and he was staggering as if drunk.

"Who's that?" she said, pointing.

Gretchen glanced out the window. "s.h.i.+t! It's Joe. He can't call for help because I took his earpiece, but once someone sees him--"

Ben floored it. The van careened around the driveway curves beneath the dark shade of the cacao trees. Lucia's heart was in her throat, and no amount of deep breathing slowed its pounding. How long would it take Joe to sound the alarm? And what would-- "Vik!" she cried, and dove back into the crate. Shoving aside the startled boy inside, Lucia scrambled to recover the slave shackles. The van rounded another curve, making the job harder. The boy lost his balance, fell against her. At last Lucia thrust the bands at Gretchen. "Toss these out the window. Quick!"

Gretchen obeyed and the shackles vanished into the mulch surrounding the cacao trees. A moment later, a m.u.f.fled boom boom rattled several trees. Pipes rose out of the ground and sprayed fertilizer again. The main gate was in sight--and it was shut. Ben aimed a remote control at it, and they began to grind open. Before the van reached them, however, the gates froze, then started to slide shut. Ben swore and tried the remote again. Nothing. rattled several trees. Pipes rose out of the ground and sprayed fertilizer again. The main gate was in sight--and it was shut. Ben aimed a remote control at it, and they began to grind open. Before the van reached them, however, the gates froze, then started to slide shut. Ben swore and tried the remote again. Nothing.

"They've figured out what's going on and changed the codes already," Ben said. "Hold on to something!"

Lucia just managed to grab the crate's rim before Ben slammed his foot down. The van leaped forward. Behind her came a yelp and a thud from the crate as the boy lost his balance. Gretchen was flung backward against the rear doors. They popped open. Gretchen shrieked and barely managed to snag a cargo handle. Her feet dragged the ground behind the speeding van.

"Gretchen!" Lucia launched herself from the crate. The van rushed toward the closing gates, but Lucia didn't dare spare a glance to see if the opening were wide enough for them. She caught Gretchen's wrist and pulled, but Gretchen couldn't get any purchase on the rus.h.i.+ng ground to aid in the effort. Lucia braced herself against the floor and, with a bone-cracking heave, yanked as hard as she could. There was a horrendous screech of metal and a shower of sparks as the gates sc.r.a.ped the sides of the van. Then they slammed shut on Gretchen's foot. Gretchen screamed and tumbled into the van on top of Lucia. Lucia disentangled herself, got the doors shut, and turned to look at Gretchen's tight, pale face.

"My foot," Gretchen moaned. "Oh G.o.d, my foot!"

Steeling herself, Lucia looked down, expecting to see crushed bone and spurting blood. Nothing of the sort greeted her. Gretchen's shoe was missing and her trouser cuffs were torn, that was all.

"You still have it," Lucia said. "Blessings to Irfan for that. Let me have a look."

Ben, meanwhile, had turned onto the main road and was once again driving at breakneck speed. Lucia touched Gretchen's foot, and the blond woman howled in pain.

"It's broken," Lucia said. "And you have some abrasions on your legs. We'll have to have Harenn take a look when we get back to the s.h.i.+p. You were lucky, I think."

"It sure as s.h.i.+t doesn't feel lucky," Gretchen growled. "G.o.d."

The van slowed, and Lucia glanced out the window in time to see Father Kendi detach himself from a patch of brush near the Sunnytree Farm wall. A thin rope hung over the wall behind his hiding place. The other end, Lucia knew, was tied to the slave shackles that carried a frequency she had taken from the copycat. Father Kendi had been hauling the shackles over the wall with the rope and then tossing them back in order to set off the escaped slave alarm.

Father Kendi hopped into the pa.s.senger seat. "What happened to the van?" he asked. "We're going to lose our damage deposit."

"We had to make a break for it. The van almost got caught in the gate," Ben said. "So did Gretchen, for that matter."

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