Budge the cat backed away from his owner, eyes wide with terror. His whiskers twitched, and he sensed an escape. The door was open! All of his fantastic feline instincts kicked in and his tiny kitty legs pumped furiously as he sped toward the door. Nobody seemed to notice, save for the nice human females, when he shot out the door and into the hallway, never to be seen again.
Riley paid no attention to the fact that his favorite feline companion had just abandoned him. He was far too focused on the captive women in front of him. They were struggling against their bonds, which had been tied expertly by cyborg hands. Riley was proud of his robotic creations. They possessed just enough intelligence to follow his commands, and just enough strength that they could not overpower him.
"Robespierre!" he called, and the cyborg came over. His powdered wig had become a little skewed and scuffed from the fighting, but otherwise he looked unharmed. "I need you to initiate Protocol AMB-103."
The cyborg's mouth opened at the hinges like a snake devouring a rat.
"Initiating Protocol AMB-103," it said through the speaker that acted as a voice box.
The cyborg's red eyes winked off, and his mouth shut. Anyone who didn't know better would just assume that he was a statue, or a replica. However, when it eyes blinked blue, the illusion was shattered.
Robespierre's jacket was the only thing about him that was an actual item of clothing. Riley had it made special. If you had the time and money to have something made, why not have it made? Everything else about Robespierre was a part of his cybernetic body, including the lacefront shirt he wore under the jacket.
Blue light outlined a square door in the middle of his chest, and a small lid popped open to reveal a black screen. Riley pressed his thumb against it and smiled as it recognised the print.
[SFX: beep]
"Thank you, old friend," he said. The square panel popped open to reveal circuitous innards. A black motherboard, several buttons, and a circular dial. Riley had fashioned it after the old-timey rotary phones. He just liked the look of it.
He cast a devious glance toward the girls. "Turn your head toward them," he ordered the cyborg. The cyborg complied, fixing its ice blue gaze on the cowering girls.
The girls looked on with horror as Riley spun the rotary dial with his right index finger and happened a few buttons with his left hand.
"Almost, almost," Riley said under his breath. This needed full concentration. If he was going to finally end Ambrose once and for all, this needed his full attention. "Can't lose focus. If I lose focus, I have to reboot this damned robot."
Riley only had a few minutes to establish a connection with Alex Ambrose's safe house. He knew there had to be some kind of technological link there. Some kind of artificial intelligence, maybe? No, that was far too easy.
One of his spies had told him there were no televisions or internet connections in the safehouse.. But there was an analogue radio. That would have to do. All Riley needed to do was establish a digital connection to an analogue frequency. Simple.
With Riley occupied, Yvonne started surreptitiously tugging at the ropes that bound her wrists. Budge had made some incredible progress in getting them loose, and she found herself liking cats even more. When her wrists came loose, the strange electro-shock rope fell away. She felt Debbie's rope fall away as well as the other woman's shoulders pulled away from her. Cool air brushed through Yvonne's shirt as Debbie's warmth disappeared.
Thinking quickly, Yvonne shot to her feet and rushed the cyborg executioner. Her shoulder made contact, and pain flared all the way down her back. She cried out, but not from pain. She would not be used against somebody she loved!
The commotion distracted Riley, and the cyborg Robespierre went limp. The blue light in his eyes dimmed, then he fell to the floor like a ball of tin foil. Riley cried out.
"No!" he fell to his knees, trying to support the fallen cyborg.
Behind him, Debbie had grabbed the wastepaper basket and was ready to swing it at him. Riley turned around in the nick of time and caught the basket, yanking it free from her grip, and shoving it against her. He drew on all of his strength and a little power, and threw her to the wall. The magnetic shields in the far wall activated, pulling the basket toward it, and Debbie with it.
Debbie screamed with pain as the basket pinned her to the wall. He hair splayed out from the static that surrounded her.
She watched in awe as Yvonne tried to fight off John the Executioner. For a moment, it looked like she was going to win, but the cyborg had the upper hand. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her so high that she crashed against the ceiling. She dropped to the floor, unconscious and as limp as a pile of rags.
"YVONNE!" Debbie called. "If you're alive, move! If you can hear me, move!"
Debbie began to scream hysterically. There was a slight twitch in Yvonne's left hand. She didn't appear to be bleeding, but her open eyes were staring ahead, unfocused. John the Executioner loomed over her, picking up one heavy cybernetic foot, prepared to strike.
Riley came up beside the executioner and looked down at Yvonne.
"Do it," he said coldly. "Break the bones."
Debbie grimaced and dry heaved at the sickening crunch of bones as the executioner pressed his foot into Yvonne's chest. She was still breathing, but her breath was coming in wheezy rasps. Debbie's heart raced as she struggled against the force of the wastepaper basket.
Riley clapped three times, and she fell to the ground. Her vision went black, and when she awoke, the executioner was standing over her. Riley had managed to get the cyborg Robespierre back on his feet, and the rotary dial made a lot of clicking as Riley spun it back an forth.
After a while, he threw his head back and laughed maniacally.
All Debbie could hear was the faint sound of a telephone ringing.
*
Back in the safe house, Christopher and Louis were still sorting through all infinity-million documents that had been contained on the thumb drive. Absolutely none of it made sense. They took turns sleeping, trying ridiculously hard to find anything useful.
It was Louis's turn to sleep, which meant it was Christopher's turn to, yet again, sift through a file SCOT had selected. The artificial intelligence, which Alex had created to keep them safe, had come up with a system. He had created a file on the drive called "Sorted", which contained all the files they had gone through. It contained a few hundred. The problem was, there were still several hundred thousands to go.
Christopher rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and groaned.
"What did I do to deserve this?" he moaned. "The Devil's paperwork."
"The Devil and I are close friends," said Louis's sleepy voice from the designated sleeping area. "You'd be honored to do his paperwork!"
"Much obliged, Demon Boy," Christopher said. "Hey, SCOT?"
The AI's charming CGI face popped up on the screen Christopher was working from. He appeared as an overlay, so Christopher could still see the contents of the file underneath him. It was a newspaper story about the disappearances with various sections highlighted.
"Yes, Christopher?" the AI asked.
"How long have I been at this?" Christopher asked.
"Calculating…." SCOT paused for a moment as he analyzed the time Christopher had spent. Christopher was about ready to take his shift sleeping, or to just walk around the house. Hours spent in a basement surrounded by monitors was not healthy.
SCOT's "body" consisted of a basement full of monitors that powered him. He was probably the most advanced piece of technology in Baltimore, if not the United States. Christopher was in awe of the fact that Alex had been able to create something so sophisticated and brilliant.
"Approximately forty-five minutes," SCOT said.
"What?" Christopher said. "It's been at least two hours!"
"Hmmm… Not quite!" said SCOT.
"But-"
"It's not your turn to sleep, dummy," Louis said grumpily. "Give it an hour and you can have the bed.
"Bed" was a loose term for the pile of blankets they had stacked on he floor. Louis was wrapped in them like a puppy dog in a bundle of laundry. Christopher was jealous.
"Fine," he relented. "But I-"
Christopher was interrupted by a strange sound. One he hadn't heard in quite a while. The sound of a telephone ringing.
Louis sat up from the pile of blankets. They fell around him like a cloak.
"What is that?" he asked suspiciously. "Baphomet doesn't have my number. Neither does Azazel."
"I don't think-" Christopher's eyes snapped to the screen. SCOT's computer-generated face was contorted in a facsimile of pain. It looked so painfully real! The "skin" was pulled back in a grimace and his eyes bulged out of his head.
"SCOT!" Louis cried, shooting to Christopher's side. He leaned over the console, slamming buttons.
[SFX: computer malfunctioning]
Desperate, SCOT tried to speak, but his words were getting clipped.
"... interference…" he choked "... outside source… something… undetectable… initiating… lockdown sequence…"
All the screens went black, and the console shut down completely. Louis slammed his hands against the console, yelling SCOT's name. Christopher pounded buttons, doing anything he could to get SCOT back online.
"There has to be a backup somewhere," Louis said urgently. "A backup power source or something."
"We can't reset him," Christopher said. "What if we lose everything we'bve worked on?"
"I think there are bigger problems right now," Louis spat. "We just lost a freaking AI supercomputer that was helping us put together Riley's plan. A hard reset might be the only-"
He was interrupted by the sudden whirring of engines.
[SFX: computer kicking back into life]
Both men jumped back, terrified as all the monitors in the room went a bright, radiant white. Christopher closed it eyes but he could see through hit eyelids. The light was too damn powerful.
When the light finally dimmed, he cracked open his eyes, and saw a blue screen on every single monitor.
They tiptoed toward the monitor they had been working on, seeing a string of white text blinking at him.
Hello, it said, would you like to play a game?
Christopher and Louis looked at each other confused.
Another line of text appeared:
Don't answer right away. It's not like the world is about to end.
Christopher's heart raced.
"Will you give you SCOT back?" he asked, thinking of all of Alex's hard work gone to waste.
A line of text answered:
It depends on whether you play along. I ask again: WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME?
"Yes!" Louis said. "Yes, we'll play along."
A new line of text:
Good. Please stand by. This game is called… Guess Who?
[SFX: dial-up modem static]
Christopher and Louis shared a scared glance. All the blue screens winked out, briefly plunging them back into darkness. They hugged each other, terrified. Then, on a single monitor, the largest one which was mounted at the end of the room, a face appeared.
The two let go of each other and backed away, feeling sick.
"It's you," Lous sneered. "How did you even…"
But he couldn't finish the thought.
Riley simply grinned, his smug face contorting grimly.
"I have my ways," he said. "Your friend Alex was very clever in concealing his location from me. However, he forgot one thing. Analogue radios can be taken advantage of."
"Analogue-" Christopher started to ask, but then he remembered. They had been listening to the radio only the other ay! He had completely forgotten that it existed! He remembered how Yvonne had freaked out over the disappearances, and the argument that had ensued.
"Oh god," Christopher whimpered.
"God's not here to help you," Riley said, then he laughed viciously. "I'm bored of you both. Go fetch Ambrose."
"He's not here," Louis said.
"Don't try to play coy with me," Riley said, leaning forward. He wasn't sitting at a desk. In fact, he was standing at a really weird angle, almost like he was bending down to look into the camera. "I know Ambrose is there, somewhere. Go and get him and I'll return your primitive artificial intelligence programme. It was barely worth the effort it took to disable it, anyway."
"Give us a minute," Louis said before Christopher had the chance to say anything.
Louis pulled Christopher to one side and spoke in a low whisper.
"We can't tell him where Alex is going," Louis said. "We can't tell him he's not here, either!"
"So what do we do?" Christopher asked.
Louis pursed his lips and thought, hard. "We buy time. You get to work on reviving SCOT. I stall him. Maybe try to get some of my friends from down below, if you know what I mean."
"Ah," Christopher said, trying not to look too happy. "Good, great plan. Yes, very great plan."
They broke, and Louis returned to the monitor.
"Fine," he said to Riley,whose face was at least ten feet tall and half again as wide. "You got us! We'll give you Alex. Trouble is, he's not here right now."
Riley smiled, amused. "Then where is he?"
Louis started talking about the history of the Baltimore woods, and Christopher made his way to the other side of the basement. He crouched down and found a small panel. With some elbow grease he managed to get it open. Alex had shown it to them when he had given a grand tour of SCOT. Poor SCOT, he had to be somewhere inside all of this madness. He pulled the panel off and a mess of wires spilled out. Christopher silently cursed Alex, but not for long. He got to work rearranging the wires, hoping to find the master wire.
"... so you see," Louis said, struggling for words. "This woodland has so much history.. Debbie was just dying to see it. And, well, Alex, you know. He has to be the valiant knight, giving the ladies what they want. So he took her on a date. Hiking. Through the woods. I'm sure they'll be back in just a few hours.
Riley stared at him blankly for a long, tense minute.
"I see," he said. "That is certainly a romantic feat for Alex Ambrose."
He's buying it! Louis thought hopefully. Then his heart sank.
The camera turned to focus on a woman who lay crumpled up against a wall. Her hair spilled over her face, but Louis would recognise her anywhere.
Riley had taken Debbie as his prisoner.