27. Anika
ANIKA
T wo goons march me into what appears to be a luxury hotel lobby, even though it’s probably just where my kidnappers like to play video games.
It’s all gleaming marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with panoramic views, and modern art pieces that dot the walls.
Some kind of avant-garde water feature trickles softly in the background.
And there, slumped in a chair unconscious, is Griffin. His wrists are zip-tied to the arm rests. His head lolls to one side, a trickle of blood running from his temple down his jawline.
“Griffin!” I lunge forward, but the two men clamp down on my shoulders. “Let me go!”
Griffin’s eyelids flutter at the sound of my voice. He looks disoriented for a moment before his gaze locks onto mine. Recognition floods his face, followed by panic. He immediately strains against whatever binds him to the chair.
“Anika? Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? You’re bleeding!”
He blinks, seeming to register the situation fully. “Only a little. Hockey players bleed all the time.”
Even concussed, he manages to make me roll my eyes.
“What a touching reunion.”
I turn to see Nero, or Elodie, or whatever her name actually is sitting behind an enormous glass desk. She wears an immaculate white suit and severe stilettos.
“What did you do to him?” I demand.
“Nothing permanent.” She waves dismissively. “Please, sit.”
The goons push me into a chair across from Griffin.
Griffin wiggles against his zip ties. “Why are we here? What do you want?”
“Nothing from you, actually.” Nero smiles. “You two were simply…in the way.”
“Let Anika go,” Griffin demands, his voice gaining strength. “She has nothing to do with this.”
Nero ignores him and presses a button on her desk. The room’s lighting dims as a holographic display activates in the center of the room, displaying the Davos World Economic Forum logo.
“Next month,” she announces like she’s giving a TED talk, “the most powerful people in the world will gather in Davos. Presidents, prime ministers, CEOs. All in one place.”
Griffin and I exchange glances. Here comes the villain monologue.
“Let me guess,” I interrupt. “You’re going to hold them hostage for one million dollars?”
“One billion dollars,” Griffin adds, channeling his Doctor Evil impression.
Nero’s eye twitches. “This isn’t Austin Powers . My plan is far more sophisticated.”
She swipes her hand across the air, and the hologram changes to display microscopic robots crawling across what appears to be brain tissue. I suppress a gag.
“Nanobots,” she explains, her voice rising with excitement. “Delivered through the air filtration systems, activated by specific neuro-frequencies. Once deployed, every leader at the forum becomes my puppet.”
Griffin stifles a laugh. “Sorry, did you say mind control nanobots?”
“Mock if you must,” Nero continues, unbothered. “But while you’ve been skating around on the ice, I’ve been developing technology beyond your comprehension. The nanobots are merely phase one.”
She expands the hologram again, showing people across the globe with glowing eyes.
“All World Economic Forum Young Global Leaders have unwittingly received a dormant code during routine check-ups. On my signal, synchronized coups will occur worldwide.”
Griffin and I exchange glances. His expression says what I’m thinking. This woman is off her rocker.
“So, basically Skynet,” Griffin mutters. “And you came from the future to kill Anika and me before we have a son that will destroy your operation.”
My whole face brightens. “You want to have kids with me?”
“I want everything with you,” he says with the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. It would be romantic if we weren’t being held hostage.
Nero steps between us, blocking my view of Griffin. She really hates that he cares for me.
“Have you heard of Project Blue Beam, Mr. McGregor?”
“Can’t say I have,” he replies. “Sounds like a toothpaste commercial.”
The hologram shifts again to show what appears to be images of spaceships in the sky.
“Is that…an alien invasion?” Griffin asks incredulously.
Nero starts pacing the room.
“Project Blue Beam is a classified technology capable of creating any illusion anywhere on Earth. Imagine the possibilities! Alien invasions, natural disasters, political assassinations. I could create mass hysteria with the flip of a switch.”
Griffin snorts, which earns him a withering glare from Nero.
“So you’re going to…fake an alien invasion? Why?” I ask, trying to keep up.
“The masses will believe anything they see.” She spins around, arms spread wide.
“Fear is the greatest weapon, and it will be mine to wield. Governments destabilized by events which never physically occurred. The possibilities are endless. And the best part? Because of the mind-control nanobots, nobody will know I’m the one who holds the strings. ”
Griffin clears his throat. “This all sounds very…creative. But what exactly do Anika and I have to do with your, uh, world domination plan?”
Nero stops, blinking as if remembering we exist. “Nothing, actually. You were just collateral damage.”
I furrow my brows. “You kidnapped us for nothing?”
“Well.” She shrugs. “Griffin is quite the pretty little bauble. I might keep him and do away with you.”
She walks back to her desk and presses a button. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Two more guards enter the room.
“Take them to holding until I decide what to do with them,” Nero orders.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Griffin as the guards cut his zip ties, haul us to our feet, and take us away.
“About what? Getting kidnapped? Not your fault.”
“No, about Thomas. I shouldn’t have gone on that date.”
Griffin blinks. “We’re discussing this now?”
“Well, we might die, so…” I shrug.
“We’re not going to die. Not today. Any chance you’ve got some kung fu moves up your sleeve?” he whispers.
“I’m good, but not that good.”
I counted at least ten guards on this level alone.
We’re marched down a sterile white corridor, and Griffin’s eyes never stop scanning our surroundings. The two burly guards keep their weapons trained on us, maintaining a professional distance.
“How badly are you hurt?” I whisper, eyeing the dried blood on Griffin’s temple.
“Only a bump on the head. Nothing compared to taking a slap shot to the face.”
The guard shoves Griffin forward. “No talking.”
Griffin stumbles but recovers with surprising grace. As he rights himself, I notice him fiddling with his watch. An expensive-looking gadget with too many dials for telling simple time.
The guards stop us in front of a reinforced door. One punches a code into the keypad while the other keeps his gun trained on us. The door slides open to reveal a small, windowless room with two metal chairs bolted to the floor.
“In,” the taller guard orders.
Griffin steps forward first, suddenly tripping over his own feet and collapsing against the guard. “Sorry! Hockey injury. Knee gives out sometimes.”
The guard shoves him off with a grunt.
But Griffin presses something on the side of his watch, and a tiny whooshing sound fills the air. A nearly invisible wire shoots out, wrapping around the guard’s ankles. Griffin yanks, and the man crashes to the floor with a surprised yelp.
I drive my knee into the second guard’s groin (I’ve discovered I really like that move). He doubles over, and I bring my elbow down on the back of his neck. He crumples beside his friend.
Griffin stares at me, mouth agape. “Remind me never to upset you.”
“You can thank me by getting us out of here.”
Griffin presses another button on his watch, and both guards convulse briefly before going still.
“Did you kill them?”
“Electromagnetic pulse. They’ll wake up with headaches.” Griffin peers outside. “Coast clear. Let’s move.”
We sprint down corridors, ducking into alcoves whenever we hear voices. Alarms begin blaring, red lights flashing overhead.
“They know we’ve escaped,” I pant.
We skid around a corner, nearly colliding with a startled technician, who drops her tablet with a clatter.
“Sorry!” Griffin apologizes before shoving her into a supply closet and jamming the handle with a broom.
“Canadians,” I mutter. “Even breaking out of an evil lair, so polite.”
We navigate through a maze of utilitarian hallways until we reach an emergency exit. Griffin checks his watch again.
“Wilde and the cavalry should be here any minute. When we get outside, we need to move fast.”
The moment we push through the exit door, more alarms blare behind us. Cold air slaps my face as we sprint across the snow to a ridge overlooking the steep descent.
Griffin pulls me toward a snowbank, where two pairs of skis wait, partially buried. “I stashed these earlier, just in case.”
“You brought me skis?”
“And a matching jacket.” He tosses me a hooded parka identical to his, with a red maple leaf emblazoned on the back.
I slip it on as Griffin helps me into the ski bindings. “Why the matching outfits? Starting a Canadian cult?”
“We’re going to have company coming down that mountain. They’ll all be wearing these.”
No sooner do we click into our skis than an alarm blares from inside the fortress. Guards pour out onto the snow, pointing and shouting.
“Go!” Griffin shouts.
We launch over the platform edge, plummeting several feet before our skis hit powder.
My knees absorb the impact as we carve down the mountain face, zigzagging between rock outcroppings.
The mountain drops away beneath our skis, snow spraying in our wake as we navigate sharp turns down the near-vertical slope.
Behind us, engines roar. I glance back to see men on snowmobiles in pursuit, because of course evil henchmen have motorized ski bikes. Others strap on skis, sliding down after us.
“Don’t look back!” Griffin shouts. “Just follow me!”
We slalom between jagged rocks and towering pines, the distance between us and our pursuers shrinking with each turn.
“Stay close!” Griffin shouts over the wind.