Freedom TM

dead eyes. “You should leave this place. Everything here is about to die.…”
    With that Loki walked to his bike, and started it. His two dozen razorbacks started up as well. Then an even larger swarm of razor-backs swept past—at least a hundred strong—and Loki merged into it. A flock of dozens of microjet aircraft also howled low overhead in close formation. The entire retinue thundered into the distance, back the way the truck had brought Sebeck and Price. Back toward the center of the ranch.
    Price nodded. “He’s even scarier in person.”
    Sebeck started crawling toward nearby bodies. “We can probably find a knife on one of these.”
    “Hey, look.”
    Emerging from the edges of the wood chip piles were a couple dozen armed men in Ghillie suits. As they got closer Sebeck realized their poncho-like suits were more than just physical camouflage—they appeared to reflect whatever was on the other side of them. They were translucent.
    He could see their telltale HUD glasses. They had electronic multibarrel rifles slung across their chests and gave the thumbs-up sign to Sebeck and Price as they approached.
    Several of them watched the horizon and skies as a tall, muscular-looking darknet operative came up to them and flipped up his bulletproof mask to reveal that he was African American. “Are either of you hurt?”
    Sebeck shook his head. “No.”
    “Are you The Unnamed One and Chunky Monkey?”
    Price exhaled deeply. “That’s us, man.”
    “I’m Taylor. An operative named Rakh sent us to get you.”
    Sebeck nodded.
Jon Ross.
    He made motions with a gloved hand in D-Space as several other darknet operatives cut Sebeck and Price’s bonds. They also offered canteens to them.
    He called to the others, “Morris, let’s get them some clothing and gear!”
    “We’re on it.”
    Price rubbed his wrists. “That was calling it pretty goddamned close!”
    “Loki Stormbringer has gathered an army of machines. He’s going to attack. Many others are going to follow him in.”
    “Attack? What attack?”
    “We came to stop Operation Exorcist. Unmanned vehicles are opening up the roads. We’re pushing in overland.”
    “You’re here for The Major and his men?”
    “Yes. Have you seen him?”
    Sebeck felt his temper starting to flare. “Yeah, and if you’re going after him, we’re going with you.”

Chapter 35: // Infil
    Only on the Texas prairie could a three-thousand-square-foot home be called a bungalow. Natalie Philips’s quarters were located in a cluster of other bungalows, all done in Southwestern style—tiny Alamos of white plastered brick with flat roofs and a cosmetic bell tower. It was part of a subdivision of corporate residences located about a mile from the main house across landscaped grounds with fountains, ornamental gardens, and rows of poplars. Beyond the complex the prairie extended unbroken to the horizon. It was peaceful out here. Actual solitude.
    The interiors of the bungalow were first-rate—hardwood planks, adobe walls, and hand-hewn beams. High ceilings, hand-woven rugs, and expensive-looking Southwestern art adorning the walls. The entertainment centers for each bungalow were insane. Seventy-inch plasma televisions with surround-sound stereo systems linked to an impressive music and movie library drawn off of some central server—but no Web access. No outside phone service, only in-house room service. There was a fully stocked bar and a small kitchenette with a microwave, as well as a disproportionately large dining room that could easily seat a dozen people. There was a separate servants’ entrance with a ramp for bringing in carts, connected to concealed servant paths that ran between the homes behind hedges and fences—as though they were modern Mad Ludwigs, unwilling to countenance the serving staff.
    Philips sat alone at the dining room table looking at a powerful laptop linked in to the ranch’s expansive network. A laptop they’d given her and which she was certain was riddled with spyware.
    Aldous Johnston had named half a dozen world-class cryptanalysts and software scientists working on Operation Exorcist—but she hadn’t actually
seen
any of them. She’d just been here, waiting. Even though this was supposed to be an emergency, they hadn’t asked her to do a damn thing. She’d left a dozen messages with Johnston’s admin assistant to find out when she’d be able to get an outside line to talk with Deputy Director Fulbright back at the