Blind Rage Read Free Page A

and Travis had just proved it was everything it was cracked up to be. First, he could control most of its functions with the virtual reality helmet. Turn his head, and the helicopter turned. Lean forward, and the little flying machine moved ahead; lean back, and it flew backward. Equipped with stereoscopic cameras, the device saw exactly what Travis would see if he were there in person. Better, Travis could shift to infrared night vision if needed. When Travis moved his eyes, not his head, tracking cameras in the VR goggles moved the helicopter’s “eyes” in the same direction. Stereo microphones worked just like Travis’s ears, but were even more sensitive.
    All this was crammed into a package that could fit in the palm of his hand. The flying device was powered by a lithium-ion battery and backed up with solar cells so efficient they could generate electricity in starlight, so it had virtually limitless range. And, coolest of all, the olfactory detector that James’s company had developed for video games meant that Travis could even “smell” whatever was in the little helicopter’s vicinity. An olfactory sensor—essentially an electronic nose—constantly “sniffed” the air, sent the signals to a computer for analysis, and recreated the odors for Travis with a vast array of volatile oils, esters, terpenes, and other odorants. Travis knew that no one on the team would be happy to hear he’d lost one of the prototypes, especially given how much it cost. But the result had been worth it.
    He was still buzzed with the excitement of how the mission had turned out when Warrant Officer Wilson, his second-in-command, signaled him with a wave. Some of his men clapped him on the shoulder with smiling faces as he walked over to see what Wilson wanted. As he approached, Wilson held out a handset wired to a radio transceiver.
    “It’s Major Townsend.” Wilson mouthed the words.
    Travis spoke into the handset. “That was fast, sir. Calling to congratulate us already?”
    “No, captain, though I gather your mission was successful.”
    “Very successful, sir.”
    “Good for you. But we have a problem. You’re being reassigned, effective immediately.”
    Travis felt a wave of disappointment break over him. He’d grown to like and, better still, trust his team. With the new technology he’d just put through the wringer, they could really begin to take the war on terror right to the terrorists. Root them out in their mountain hidey-holes. But duty called, apparently. And as freewheeling as his career in the army had been, allowing him to satisfy a lot of personal needs, its discipline had been good for him.
    “Where to, sir?”
    “Stateside,” the major said. “You’re going home, captain.”
    “What’s the assignment?”
    “Security detail.”
    Travis’s heart sank.
    After years of excitement on the front lines of the war, now I’m being asked to babysit some brass? To hell with that.
    The major broke the silence. “It’s James, Travis. We’ve intercepted what we believe is a credible threat. He and his family are in imminent danger. And you know what that would do to the program.”
    Travis felt his jaw clench. “I’ll be on the first transport out, sir.”
    “You’re the best person for the job. Oh, and captain? Congratulations on eliminating al-Samara.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “Good luck, Trav. I think you’re going to need it.”

C HAPTER 3
    Now that she was awake, Tess sensed someone else in the room. It was hard to explain how she knew; she just did. At first it was a feeling, like something pressing in on her, something foreign taking up space in the familiar surroundings of her room. Then the presence took on more tangibles.
    Sounds, for example. She knew every rustle and creak in the house, the hum of the refrigerator compressor, the distant rumble of the furnace and hiss of the air through the vents, the squeak of a floorboard in the hall or on the stairs to the ground floor, rain on