Read Online Root of Unity by SL Huang - Free Book Online Page B

make you a lure as bait and they just kill you instead of taking you in? Or what if they kill Professor Sonya because they think they don’t need her once they have you? Or what if—”
    “We’ll just stall them on the math until I can figure a way out,” I said. “And you can drop the electronic hints so they’ll think they still need the professor. I have total faith in you.”
    His mouth worked. “I am not in favor of this idea!”
    “Tough,” I said.
    “Goddammit. Where’s Arthur? Where’s Pilar? Where is some sanity? Why am I constantly surrounded by people who want to throw their lives down as martyrs? I’m not going to help you become—”
    “I’m not trying to be a martyr!” I insisted. This wasn’t about self-sacrifice; this was about winning. “You’re the one who keeps telling me this is for Arthur!”
    He shut up fast at that.
    “They might be torturing Halliday as we speak, and this is the best plan we’ve got.” I stood up. “Start planting the evidence for this Lancer guy.”
    “And where are you going to be?” asked Checker unhappily.
    “I’m going to go find the van. That’s not a large search area—once I get out there, it shouldn’t take me long.” It was something to do, and maybe I’d be able to track their base and blast straight through to rescue Halliday. Besides, I didn’t want to be in the Hole if the NSA decided to check in here—Pilar had probably found Zhang by this point. “We’re going to get the professor back. One way or another.”
    And Arthur would fucking thank me.

Chapter 7
    I rode my motorcycle out east, to the fringes of the LA sprawl.
    I had a Eulerian path planned in my head for the search zone, spiraling through the dusty, ramshackle streets with my eyes flicking back and forth for any sign of the van. About a quarter of the way along it, I spotted the windowless white vehicle sitting abandoned at the far end of a fast food parking lot, overlooked by a garish cartoon burger over an atrociously comic sign. I pulled up to the van, jacked into it, and drove off, leaving the bike.
    I moseyed around a few corners until I found a patch of empty road under an overpass, where I’d have some time to look suspicious without a danger of passersby getting curious. As I parked and got to work, I cursed Arthur under my breath for splitting off. I wasn’t nearly as good at crime-scening things as he was.
    I scooped up a handful of fine road dust from the gutter and sifted it over various surfaces inside the van, blowing it off gently to look for fingerprints I could photograph and text to Checker—I’d picked up a burner of my own along with the bike—but the bad guys had been careful. The van was clean, and I only got covered in dirt for my trouble. I picked at the tires, but nothing recognizable in the treads leapt out at me. Mathematics might be useful for a lot of things, but it didn’t give me Arthur’s skills at observation.
    I supposed I could take pictures, in case Arthur or Checker could find something useful in them later. I tossed my phone in my hand, feeling petty about having hit a dead end. Maybe I should drive the whole van back as evidence.
    A screech of rubber on pavement burst against the cement walls of the overpass, shattering the quiet, and I dove behind the van just as three black SUVs skidded around the corner. My first thought was that the NSA had been on the hunt and followed the van here, too—
    Then automatic weapons fire tore through the air, shredding my hearing, and the windows in the van’s cab burst apart in a shattering cacophony.
    Holy shit, they tracked their own van!
    I crouched against the tire well, drawing trajectories in my head and making sure the engine block was lined up between the weapons and me. My Colt was in my hand. I had eight rounds before reloading—how many men were there? With three SUVs, at least six guys would have come, and possibly more like twelve or eighteen. I listened, teasing out the