The Siren Project Read Online Free PDF Page A

followed the buses.
    “Hurry,” Christa urged. “They’re going to
sanitize the base.”
    Mitch glanced at her curiously, then nodded
to Gunter. “Step on it.”
    Gunter kicked the engine to life, then sped
after the small convoy. Seconds before they reached the main gate, a massive
explosion shattered the air behind them. Mitch spun around to see the five story
glass and steel office building engulfed in flames.
    “The way I see it,” Mitch said, turning
thoughtfully to Christa, “Is, in spite of all the brain power you people have,
you’re cold sweat scared of something.”
    Christa said nothing.
    “So one of your top people ... dies? Whatever
happened to him, you’re so frightened your security is breached, you blast your
headquarters off the face of the earth. Extreme, but effective. Must be a nasty
enemy.”
    “I hope,” she replied slowly, “For your
sake, you never find out how nasty.”
    Gunter glanced at Mitch. “We need weapons.”
    “Yeah, and fast.” Silently Mitch cursed
himself for not having Knightly return their guns. As they closed on the tail
of the convoy of cars and buses heading south, Mitch suddenly felt very
vulnerable. “We’re sitting ducks out here. Turn off onto the first road that
looks like it goes some place. I want to put distance between us and that
convoy.”
    “Ya, me too,” Gunter agreed.
    Mitch turned back to Christa. “Do you have
some place we should go?”
    “No, you choose. There is nothing linking
you to us, Gus was very careful about that. Any place I know is at risk.”
    “Hey guys, we’re riding in one of their
cars,” Mouse said nervously. “That links us with them!”
    Christa’s face showed surprise.
    “He is right,” Gunter said.
    Mitch pointed to a side road that wound
back toward the mountains. “There. That looks good.”
    Gunter turned onto the side road, quickly
losing sight of the convoy. “Where to?”
    “Pasadena.”
    “What’s in Pasadena?” Christa asked.
    “Absolutely nothing. We’ll dump the car
there, strip its plates, and burn it. I’m not leaving anything behind, not even
DNA traces.”
    “Then what?”
    “We go surfing.”
     
     
     

Chapter
2
     
     
    Christa watched the surf pounding on
the beach from a cushioned deck chair, shortly after dawn. Mitch’s beach house
in Malibu was built on pylons driven deep into the sand. The wood of the rear
deck had faded from the sun, the stairs leading down to the sand were missing a
railing, but the white walls behind her gleamed with fresh paint. She watched
several joggers, tanned and relaxed, make the long haul along the beach, just
above the surf line. It all left her with a sense of unreality, so different
from the life she'd known.
    “You’re up early,” Mitch’s voice cut
through her reverie.
    “Couldn’t sleep.” She glanced up to see him
with a bowl of cereal, eating while standing. “Not used to the sound of the
waves.”
    “Takes some getting used to. I slept like a
log. Always do.”
    “You live well here,” she said, glancing up
at the two story beach house behind them.
    “This place is my one indulgence. It’s the
only thing I have here of any value, everything else is offshore.”
    Christa scowled. “In case you have to make
a fast get away?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Could you walk away from it that easily?”
    “If I had to? In a heartbeat. No ties. Attached
to nothing, that’s how I like it.”
    She watched a surfer ride a wave, then pull
out just before he reached the shore. “We left so quickly, I didn’t have time
to pack. I’ll need money, for clothes and stuff.”
    He realized she was still wearing the same
clothes she'd worn the previous day. “You need to go to the bank?”
    “No. Banks are off limits, too easy to
trace. You must give me some money.”
    Mitch looked at her, not believing his
ears. “I must what?”
    “The organization always provided me with
everything I needed. Now I’m with you, you must do the same. I