“Move my van?”
“Yes. It appears this area is for ambulances only.”
Jacob tried to understand what was going on. Why was Johnson here? How did he know to come to this hospital?
“That was your men at the parking garage, wasn’t it? Your drone?”
“You understand, we could not let the Russians and Chinese kill you. We have too much invested in your survival.”
“Just who in the hell is we?”
“As I have mentioned before, Mr. Quince, my employer’s identity is of no consequence.”
“How did you get people to the garage so quickly? What the hell is going on?”
The doors opened again and Sandy and Kat came in.
“Mr. Quince, I am on a very tight schedule. I must go. I would also suggest that you have the staff look at your ankle. I have cleared payment for your treatment as well.” Johnson turned and went out the doors.
“Where is he?” Kat asked.
“They took him in,” Jacob said, gesturing to the side doors.
“I need to be with him,” Kat said.
“They won’t let you. I tried.”
The nurse from the desk came over. “Mr. Johnson said your ankle will need to be examined. I’ll call a nurse for you. You can go to room 2B. It’s down the hall to the left,” she said to Jacob. Turning to Sandy and Kat, she said, “The waiting room is down the same way, just a little past room 2B.” She started back to her desk before she stopped and turned. “But could you please move the van first?”
Chapter 30
Jacob limped into the waiting room. Sandy sat, drinking a cup of coffee, and Kat paced the floor.
Sandy looked up, her eyes showing her fatigue. “Hey.”
Jacob took a seat next to her.
“How’s the ankle?”
“A small fracture. They shot it with a bone regenerator. It will be good in a few days.”
Sandy handed him the coffee. “Want some?”
“Thanks.” He took a drink. “Any word?”
“Only that it will be a while.”
Kat stopped in front of them. She had been crying. This was the first time Jacob had seen anything but joy or determination on her face. She gave a half-smile, then started pacing again.
“What happened back there at the garage? And who was that suit?” Sandy asked.
Jacob handed her the coffee. “That was Johnson.”
“The Johnson who hired us?”
“Yes.”
“What was he doing here?”
“I don’t know, but he got Gomez in. They weren’t going to let him in because of insurance, and Johnson talked to them.”
“Is he connected to the people who saved our asses back there?”
Jacob shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, yes. I just don’t know how he’s connected or what the hell is going on.”
Sandy watched Kat pace. “Did you notice anything about the security guys who showed up at the garage?” she asked.
“Only that they were good. Why, did you?”
“Their boots had the NirvanaWare logo on them. I saw it when they brought Evgeny by. I wasn’t sure, but I saw that ad for the hospital and it clicked.” She pointed to an ad screen on the other side of the room. An ad ran on a loop, finishing with the NirvanaWare logo superimposed over an external shot of the hospital.
“NirvanaWare troops saved us? How does that make sense?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out. Maybe they were getting back at the SRS for the hijacking we helped with,” Sandy said.
“Why not take us too?”
“Maybe they didn’t know we were part of it.”
“But what about Johnson? Is he hooked up with NirvanaWare? That doesn’t make sense. He would have known we were going to help with the hijacking. He knew so much about me, about all of us. He even knew we were here, so there’s no way he didn’t know about our part in the hijacking job,” Jacob said.
“Why would NirvanaWare let us help the SRS steal from them? That must have cost them millions.”
“I know, none of it makes sense. NirvanaWare must have been there to burn the SRS, and we just lucked out.”
“Deus ex machina,” Sandy said. She took a drink of coffee. “This is getting cold, you want to finish it?”
He took the coffee and motioned to Kat, who still paced, in her own world. “Have you tried to talk to her?”
Sandy nodded. “She’s barely holding it together. She didn’t want to talk about it when I tried.”
Jacob understood. He didn’t want to talk about it either. He didn’t want to think about it. He leaned back. He was tired. His body felt the exhaustion left after an extended adrenaline rush. He drank the rest of the lukewarm coffee, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I should put my foot up,” he said and pulled over a chair.
The simple act of putting his feet in a chair seemed to increase his exhaustion. Sandy did the same and rested her head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, the soft sounds of the hospital's piped-in music giving his mind something to focus on other than Gomez and the garage and Your Better Life and the SRS and NirvanaWare and Johnson. He let his mind go with the music and dreamed.
In his dream he floated in a stream of data, bodiless, surrounded by a firewall. He tried to crack it. He noticed someone was trying to crack it from the other side. Together they brought down the firewall and he was a teenager, sitting with Gomez in an internet café on Main Street of their hometown. Gomez was talking, but Jacob couldn’t understand what he was saying. The words came out, slowed down, and faded before they finished. “I can’t understand you.” Gomez tried again, but the same slowed down and faded words came out. “I still can’t.” An old laptop appeared at Gomez’s hands and he began typing, the words on the screen appearing out of order and scrambled. “I can’t.”
“Jacob, wake up,” Sandy said, shaking him. “The doctor’s
