The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (motivational books for women TXT) 📕

that. President Toscano’s famously smooth skin sags, and Garza’s tan complexion has taken on a gray pallor. The trauma they’ve endured has broken them.

“Oh no. That smell is formaldehyde,” says Americus.

My eyes widen, and an icy chill overtakes me as the full implication of what’s happening races through my mind. Not just broken. Dead.

  CHAPTER 19

CRITICAL MISTAKE

“Turn around slowly,” says Gerald. “Director Tempton wants you for questioning before he kills you.”

“We’re betrayed,” Americus yells into his q-link to warn the base.

Gerald laughs. “Communications are blocked. Do you think we’d let you warn them?”

My stomach lurches at the comment as I turn to see Gerald pointing a gun at us. The entirety of our mistakes comes smacking into me. I drop the four extra q-links, feeling sick.

Americus emits a low growl as he looks the man over. “Why are you doing this, Gerald? Are they threatening your family? Did they somehow install the Evo, and we missed it?”

“You must be getting old, Americus. I’m not Gerald.”

Americus’ brow furrows. “What? Impossible. We scanned you for face-shift tech.”

Gerald reaches up and pulls at his face. His skin stretches unnaturally, then tears as he rips his entire face off and tosses it. It slaps on the floor with a sickening wet sound.

The smell of blood makes me scrunch my nose. I look up, expecting to see exposed muscle and skull, but he has a new face. It’s much younger than Gerald’s and much crueler.

He brushes off a few bits of skin and drops of blood, then smiles. “Bio mask. They grew it from Gerald’s DNA. You paint the cells on your face, and it grows right before your eyes. It has biological batteries to maintain it. So no electronics to detect.”

Hell, that’s why he kept rubbing his face.

Americus looks at him horrified, but I’m not sure if it’s because he was tricked or because Gerald’s face is crumpled on the ground.

“But your voice,” says Americus.

“They grew me Gerald’s vocal cords and inserted them. After that, I spent a week learning to move like him and talk with his cadence. Did a good job, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “They knew you were talking to Gerald for a while but needed the right lure. It’s hilarious that you think there’s a magic button to solve all of your problems.”

I knew it sounded too good to be true. If only I trusted myself.

Americus growls. “Did you kill him, you son of a fascist?”

Fake Gerald shrugs. “Not me, but he’s dead. They tortured him for days to get those few stories about you. Now, lay down on the ground and put your hands behind your backs.”

The side-door opens, and two more men in tactical gear point dart guns at us. Suddenly and with finality, our mission to save America ends.

Hell. I hope the others find a way to escape, at least. If I were the quick-to-action sort instead of a planner, I’d charge this imposter and break his neck. Instead, I move to submit to give myself time to think.

Americus leaps toward the guards, and with two quick motions, he disarms them both. He swats aside a punch and kicks the one man’s leg. It snaps, and the man crumbles to the ground with a howl. Before the other guard can react, Americus slams his fingers into his throat. The man collapses, gasping for air and clutching his neck. Americus draws his pistol and shoots them both, just as two more guards rush in to attack him. They grab his gun before he can fire and wrestle for control.

The Gerald imposter’s eyes go wide. He fires at Americus, but the dart clinks off the wall.

I sprint at fake Gerald with the intent to kill.

He fires at me, and a dart punches into my neck. I lurch to a stop and grab the dart, then stare at it in disbelief. Fake Gerald smiles, then turns his gun on Americus.

A quick hazy numbness threatens my body and mind, my vision dimming.

No! I force away the paralysis, and renewed energy rushes through me. I smack fake Gerald’s wrist and gun before he can fire, and then it’s in my hands.

His mouth gapes open. “Damn dart!”

I pull the trigger, and the projectile thumps into his head. His eyes roll back, and he slides to the ground.

Americus punches the remaining guard in the stomach and shoots him in the head. The second guard already bleeds out on the ground, a knife in his neck. Americus rips out the knife, a spurt of blood spraying. He launches it into fake Gerald’s face, ending the imposter.

More guards shout in the distance as Americus dives behind a filing cabinet. “Come here.”

I dive next to him just as the other door bursts open, revealing even more guards.

“Chim,” I say, “activate our glasses and the dazzler program.”

“Good call,” says Americus as we slip on our tactical glasses.

Brilliant green lasers burst forth from the q-links in the middle of the room. The guards scream as their eyes burn.

“Go,” shouts Americus as he pulls me up. “I’ll handle them. Escape and warn the others.”

For an instant, I consider helping him, but as he pushes me, I flee into the hallway. “Chim, execute program jailbreak,” I say as I dash toward the exit. I rip my flashbang grenade out, ready to throw it at the two guards outside.

“Jailbreak success,” says my q-link.

Thank—

The door opens, and seven or so guards point dart guns at me. I slide to a halt, my stomach sinking, and I toss the flashbang.

It explodes with a powerful report, the shockwave thumping into me. I stumble but keep my feet.

The men outside are writhing around and covering their eyes or ears. I prepare to rush them