CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"Mom! Are you in your computer?"

"Mom is a little busy right now."

"Who is this?" he asked, stopping in the middle of the street. He pulled over to the shoulder of the road, turning his hazard lights on.

"I'm no one special but Mom. Now, Mom is special, isn't she? Taking on a child not her own, helping to raise you, building you up. Unfortunately, she also made some bad decisions with you. Because of that, she's about to appear before a federal judge and will likely be placed in a maximum-security prison cell. Nasty people in those max facilities," said Hiro.

"What do you want?"

"You," said Hiro. "It's pretty simple. We want to know where you are, and we'll come to you. Easy."

"I can't do that."

"No. You won't do that," said Hiro. "Turn yourself in, DeWitt. It will go much easier on your mother if you do."

"I can't do that," he repeated. "Just tell her I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't get her out of there, but if this goes as I've planned, I'll send someone for her."

"Goes as you've planned? You mean like everything so far," said Hiro. "Doesn't sound to me like you've got a good plan at all."

He was stalling, just trying to get him to continue to speak with him while his program worked its magic. California. Southern California. La Jolla. San Clemente Canyon Freeway. He was headed into Miramar. He turned to the others with a thumbs up, pointing to the screen. They all nodded, running from the building.

"Just tell her I'm sorry."

The signal was gone, but they knew where he was headed. Somehow, he thought he would be able to get onto Miramar. Sending a quick text to those already in San Diego, they prepared to head that way and find DeWitt before something truly tragic happened.

"What do you think he's going to do?" asked Katrina.

"I don't know. Miramar is loaded with just about every type of aircraft known to man. Maybe he thinks he can actually get on-base and take one or two. I don't think he flies, but someone else might be with him," said Hiro.

"Taking a plane off the base is suicide. They would shoot him out of the sky," said Georgie.

"I agree with you. But at this point, I don't think he cares." Hiro stared at the screen. DeWitt had been parked on the side of the highway near Miramar, no doubt pulled over because the news of his mother shook him. At least that showed that he did have some human compassion, even if it was for only one person.

"I wonder," whispered Hiro to himself.

"Wonder what?" asked Katrina.

"I wonder if it's not the aircraft he wants, but what's on the aircraft."

"Weapons?" asked Georgie.

"Maybe. Although those would be just as difficult to get off-base. What if it was something smaller? Something we developed."

"Shit. Our radar and weapon detection systems," said Georgie. "Almost everything there has our technology on it. I'll call G.R.I.P. and ask them to shut it all down remotely."

"No. Not yet. If we're wrong, and he's going to attack the base, they'll need everything we've put on those birds," said Hiro.

"Jesus, what a mess!" said Georgie. "This guy is really unhinged."

"That's why we do what we do," said Hiro. "We stop the unhinged."

"Well, if he was here, he's gone now," said Sor. "I don't see any cars parked to the side at all."

"No, but look at that," said Frank. "They're doing repairs and construction around the fencing. That seems a little too easy."

"Do they have security over that shit when they leave at night?" asked Ben.

"They should have security twenty-four-seven," said Sor. "Look. Those three guys are watching the work. Those aren't private crews. That's the Navy Seabees doing that work. They're just as skilled with a weapon as you or me."

Frank eyed him, giving him a sarcastic look.

"Okay, okay, maybe not you or me," laughed Sor, "but they are skilled, and they know what they're doing."

"Maybe we need to speak to them and give them a bit of a heads-up," said Cowboy.

"Let's go have a chat."