Page 18 of Wired Ghost

Soon the harness was trundling back up. Raveaux moved into the empty open area at the back of the chopper. He glanced around the utilitarian space, the walls lined with jump seats whose straps hung empty. An emergency gurney and body basket stowed with first aid supplies was netted securely into the tail area.

“Hopefully we won’t need that,” he murmured, but he had a bad feeling about what had happened to Sophie and Jake.

That bad feeling fueled his sense of urgency as he leaned out and captured the harness as it swung to the top of the cable beneath the chopper. He pulled it up and examined the straps. Captain Ohale’s bulk was greater than Raveaux’s whipcord-lean build, so he had to adjust all of the buckles and belts—but soon, wearing a pair of leather gloves that had been stowed in the harness, he was swinging out into space.

Raveaux was grateful he didn’t have a problem with heights as he gazed around at the rapidly-approaching, swaying tops of the native ohia and koa trees that came toward him as he was lowered toward the ground. The cable he was attached to bounced and swayed as the helicopter dealt with the breeze off the plain.

The ohia trees were in bloom, decorated by poufs of fragile blossoms made up of delicate filaments, bright red among silvery leaves. A red-orange native bird, an ?i?iwi, to judge from its long, curved beak, hopped from flower to flower on a tree beside him in search of nectar, unfazed by the loud noise of the chopper above, and Raveaux’s nearness.

Raveaux dropped into the canopy, and even with the urgency of their mission, he enjoyed the way the branches of a nearby koa tree rose up in graceful candelabra-like shapes, the rough bark of the trunk and branches embellished with lacy, pale green lichens.If only he could have this experience without the adrenaline of their mission, and the loud noise of the chopper.He’d listened to the singing of the native birds, and their song was sweet and thrilling in its own way. The Hawaii native forest was not like any he’d ever seen in Europe or anywhere else in the world.

He landed waist-deep in a swath of ferns, and worked quickly with the help of one of the Guardsmen to get out of the harness.

The bundle of straps, with the leather gloves poking out, spun up out of sight. Raveaux followed the soldier, crunching through the ferns and into the cover of the trees.

Chapter Twelve

Connor

In the topmostroom of the Yam Khûmk?n’s temple compound, where the satellite Internet signal was most unimpeded, Connor sat down at his bank of computers. Once the Master had given him access, Connor had re-created the lab in this remote Thai location to match the one at his former Oahu apartment down to the last detail.

He’d supervised the morning drills. He’d made sure Pi had exited the building, and was making his humble way down the jungle road that led away from the compound and into exile. Connor had the day to himself—free to manipulate criminals into killing, maiming, and turning each other in.

So satisfying.

He cracked his knuckles and booted up his rigs. Filled with anticipation, he fired up the Ghost software and checked his caches—there were cases brewing around the world that called for his unique brand of cyber justice.

Connor pulled together threads, researched and planted messages, but interesting as it was, he couldn’t settle in, get fully “wired in” to his tasks.

His mind kept circling back to Sophie.

They checked in with each other monthly via their secret chat room. As far as he knew, she was doing well, living in his old apartment, running his former business, Security Solutions, and working active cases when her daughter Momi was with her father on Kaua`i.

But he felt unaccountably restless about her, in need of contact. Maybe it was the stress of dealing with Pi, but he wanted to hear her voice. Giving in to the pull, Connor rang her cell.

It went immediately to voice mail.

She must have her phone off. She always answered for him.

There could be a million reasons for it, but his skin crawled with apprehension—something was wrong.

After a short internal debate, Connor opened the surveillance app he had installed on his phone that tracked a microchip Sophie had allowed him to implant under her skin. The chip was satellite-enabled. Within moments, he was able to zero in on her location.

What he saw galvanized him.

Cursing, he reached for his private phone kept plugged in behind the computers, and entered a pre-programmed number he’d never called before.

Kendall Bix had been the director of operations at Security Solutions for years. The unflappable man had proven his trustworthiness through numerous changes in staff and turnover in leadership. In return for allowing him to chip her, Sophie had insisted to Connor that it was necessary to apprise Bix of Connor’s status in case of an emergency. Though his company founder identity had been declared legally dead, Sheldon Hamilton was actually living abroad, off the grid. She’d set up a way for them to communicate, should they need to.

Bix answered on the second ring, sounding cautious. “To what do I owe this unexpected honor, Mr. Hamilton?”

“Is Sophie on the Big Island?” Connor had no time for pleasantries. He was half a world away from the woman he loved, and if her location was verified, she was in danger.

“She is.” Bix paused, then blew out a breath. “She’s working a case with Jake Dunn. A simple snatch and grab of a minor in a remote location. They failed to check in, and I’ve already deployed an operative to check on their last known coordinates.”

“Jake’s working the case with her?” He frowned. “Have you been monitoring the geological situation over there?” As he looked at the topographical terrain shown him by the satellite imaging, Connor’s belly clenched. Belching ashy emissions from the crater, a fast-moving river of lava was headed for the area where Sophie’s GPS appeared. “There is heavy volcanic activity happening in the area where Sophie and Jake are currently located.”

“How do you know this?”

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