James Axler – Parallax Red Parallax Red

“D.C.?” echoed Grant. He gazed at the map. “Washington Hole?”

“Exactly.” Lakesh’s lips tightened in a grim line. “As such, it was of extreme importance as an escape route to politicians and members of the military and intelligence community. It’s probably been sealed for two hundred years.”

“Washington Hole is a hellzone,” said Kane. “The hottest in the country. Who’d be stupid enough to crawl around there?”

“More important,” Brigid interjected, “who would know the redoubt even existed?”

“The barons,” declared Grant. “Baron Cobalt called a council of the nine. They’re turning over every stone, checking out every mat-trans unit trying to learn where we jumped to. Just what we were afraid would happen.”

Turning to Lakesh, he asked, “You listed the Cerberus redoubt as unsalvageable on ville records, right?”

Lakesh nodded. “That I did. But under the circumstances, Baron Cobalt, in the interest of thoroughness, may still decide to verify my information. Inasmuch as he sounded the clarion call to the other barons, he’ll have little choice.”

Bry cleared his throat. “With all due respect, whether the barons are searching the redoubts is beside the point. Whoever entered Papa did so via the gateway not by the front door. We don’t know where they came from. If they altered the matter-stream modulations”

“I think it’s more likely that a gateway unit not registered on the index was the origin point,” Lakesh interrupted acidly.

“Is that possible?” asked Brigid.

Lakesh spread his hands in a helpless gesture.’ ‘Who can say? I tried to keep track of all the modular units and to where they were shipped, but some may have escaped my notice.”

No one responded to his comment. Lakesh had told them that after the initial success of the prototype gateway unit, Project Cerberus staff had been ordered to mass-produce them in modular form so they could be shipped and assembled elsewhere.

He sighed heavily. “Friend Kane, blocking the pass was not prematurely done, after all.”

“Is that a compliment, or a statement of fact?”

“A bit of both. You’ve bought us time so we can properly investigate this anomaly.”

“How can we?” demanded Kane. “If the modulation frequencies have been altered, then we can’t trace them. If it’s an unindexed unit like you suppose, we’re still in the dark.”

“The molecular imaging scanners,” Brigid said crisply. “All mat-trans control units contain them, right?”

Lakesh gave her a fond smile. ‘ ‘As rain, dearest Brigid. Every record of every gateway transit is stored in the scanner’s memory banks. They can be downloaded and reviewed.”

Grant’s brows knit together. “But that means we’ll have to physically pull ’em from” He broke off, then growled, “Wait just a goddamn minute.”

Lakesh nodded sagely. “Yes, friend Grant, the memory banks will have to be removed from the control unit in Redoubt Papa.”

“You’re proposing to send us to Washington Hole?” Kane wasn’t asking a question; it sounded more like he was making an accusation. “The hellzone of hellzones? Why don’t you just inject us with isotopes of plutonium and have done with it?”

“Oh, come on,” Brigid said with sharp impatience. “You know all redoubts are rad shielded. Even if we pick up a dose, that’s why we have a decam facility here.”

Kane passed a weary hand over his dusty face. “I suppose I’m really a stupe” He paused, providing the opportunity for anyone to refute his statement. When no one did, he continued, “But I fail to see the importance of this, much less the urgency.”

Patronizingly Lakesh replied, “The escape route we discussed a few minutes ago, remember? If another un-traceable mat-trans gateway exists somewhere, it would be a simple solution to the problem of where to go if and when the barons come calling.”

Realization glinted in Kane’s eyes, but he said nothing.

Lakesh turned toward Bry. “Continue monitoring that signal and cross-reference it with any recent satellite pix we may have of the region. Apprise me immediately if you see further activity.”

Chapter 5

Kane ground his teeth together tightly as DeFore ruthlessly ripped off the field dressing and sloshed antiseptic into the knife cut along his rib cage.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Think I’d tell you?” he retorted.

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