Kill Switch: Chapter 41
A Clear View of Headquarters
The hill slopes at a sharp angle as it rises into a copse of trees and bushes. We crouch behind a bush and study the massive complex in the distance. Sunlight reflects off the laser proof dome, cutting jagged lines of yellow into the glass. A single watchtower is visible from this distance. A gun hangs out of a narrow aperture. Beyond the watchtower is the train depot. A black train stretches along the tracks. Red stars punctuate the heavy metal. I follow the line of the track to the other side of the complex, where a stone arch with a sliding glass panel offers an exit for the locomotive. Bots saunter, moving in tedious circles, while soldiers and white-coated scientists enter and exit several non-descript warehouse buildings. My eyes follow a drone up a flight of stairs that ends at the entrance to Mr. Vonn Senior’s mansion, which is a sleek concrete structure with tall glass windows.
My earpiece hisses.
“Bunnfield just got through security,” Cosmo says. “He’s making his way to the holding cell. How are things from your vantage? Over.”
“We’re positioned on the hill. Clear view of headquarters. I’m turning on the livestream. Over.”
I reach inside my robe and take out a screen that Cosmo gave me. I turn it on. Black and white footage flickers. The unsensored plastic walls of HR come into view. Button pushers walk the halls. Bunnfield’s stilted breathing is audible. He says hello to a few button pushers. He stops to talk to someone about his weekend. He bullshits about bingeing some Taco Goo Muck Bang.
“What the fuck is he doing,” X says. “He’s wasting time.”
“He’s trying to be normal,” Yide says. “He doesn’t want to draw suspicion. Be patient, he’ll get there.”
My hand nervously flitters down to the blaster hanging off my robe. I check the strap of the tank, making sure that the generator pack is still secured to my shoulders. I’m fidgeting, antsy as hell, and I’m relieved when Bunnfield finally finishes his bullshit conversation with this rando button pusher that he’ll probably never see again.
He approaches Switch’s desk.
The bot turns his head, approximating a smile. Harsh electric light reflects off his bald pate. His eyes blink twice. Long, slow blinks. Bunnfield places his elbows on the desk.
“Hi, Switch,” he says. “Good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you as well, Colleague Bunnfield. What can I do for you?”
Bunnfield’s gaze jostles…
“Freeze!”
My head spins around. Five security guards stand before us, blasters pointed at our heads.
I drop the monitor, but before I can grab my blaster, one of the guards steps forward and takes it off my hip. Then he takes Yide’s and X’s.
“Hey!” X yells. “That’s mine!” He reaches for the gun.
Another guard steps forward, takes a taser off his belt, and aims it at X.
“No!” I yell.
But it’s too late.
Two probes dart out, attach themselves to X’s chest, and send a high voltage current surging through his body. He lets out a yelp, spazzes, and then drops to the ground like a sack of goo.
“Fuck,” Yide says.
The guard looks at her. “Shut your trap, or else you’re next. Now, both of you turn around and put your hands behind your backs.” He flashes some handcuffs.
And meanwhile, all is bustling at headquarters, the bots going about their business, the train leaving the station.