One by One (Роберт Хантер 5 Поодиночке) - Carter Chris (2) (читать книги бесплатно полные версии txt) 📗

‘OK,’ the caller said, his voice booming out of the speakerphone and filling the room with even more tension. ‘What do you say we get this little show started, Detective? But this time the rules have changed. Keep your eyes on the screen.’

Suddenly the word GUILTY appeared in capital letters, centralized at the bottom of the image. A second later, about halfway down the right-hand edge of the screen, the word BURIED appeared, followed by the number zero and a green button. Directly underneath it, the word EATEN appeared, also followed by the number zero and a second green button. At the top of the screen, the letters SSV and the number sequence 678 flickered twice like a warning before disappearing.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Garcia asked.

Hunter almost stopped breathing. ‘It’s a vote.’

‘What?’

The caller laughed. He could hear them talking to each other. ‘Wow, you’re very quick on the uptake, Detective Hunter. Your reputation is well deserved. It is a vote. Because this time we are live over the internet.’

Garcia ran an anxious hand through his long hair.

‘I gave it some thought,’ the caller carried on. ‘And decided that this would be much more fun if we allowed others to participate, don’t you think? So today, anyone watching out there can vote. All they have to do is click a button.’ He paused for effect. ‘And this is how it’s going to work, Detective: the first of the two death methods to reach a thousand votes wins. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Hunter asked.

‘I just told you. Because it sounds like fun, don’t you agree? But I’ll tell you what, Detective Hunter: to make this even more fun, I’ll give her a chance to live. Let’s make this into a race against the clock, what do you say? If I don’t get a thousand votes for one method in . . . let’s say . . . ten minutes . . . I give you my word that I will set her free, unharmed. How does that sound?’

Hunter breathed out.

‘I think that sounds like a pretty fair deal, don’t you?’

‘Please don’t do this,’ Hunter pleaded, but the caller simply ignored him.

‘Would you like to be the first one to vote, Detective Hunter?’ The caller laughed, not waiting for an answer. ‘I didn’t think so. But there’s hope for her yet. The site has just gone online. Maybe no one will see it, or even if they do, maybe no one will vote. Who knows? But at least we’re about to have ourselves ten very exciting minutes.’

In the bottom left-hand corner of the screen a blue digital clock appeared and began counting down – 10:00, 9:59, 9:58 . . .

Suddenly the zero under the word BURIED changed to 1, and then very quickly to 2.

The caller laughed loudly. ‘Oops, that wasn’t me. I promise you. I’m not cheating. I guess the race is on.’

The line went dead.

Twenty-Five

Hunter immediately reached for the phone on his desk and called Dennis Baxter at the LAPD Computer Crimes Unit. He answered it after the second ring.

‘Dennis, it’s Robert Hunter in Homicide Special. The website is back online.’

‘What?’

Hunter heard a hurried shuffle followed by keyboard clicks.

‘No, it’s not,’ Baxter replied.

‘He’s not using the same IP address. He’s got a web domain this time.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘www.pickadeath.com.’

More keyboard clicks. Hunter heard Baxter breathe out heavily.

‘Sonofabitch.’ Baxter paused a beat. ‘What the hell is all that on the screen?’

As quickly as he could, Hunter explained what he knew.

‘So if he gets a thousand votes in ten minutes she’s either going to be BURIED alive or EATEN alive?’

‘That’s what I gathered,’ Hunter replied.

‘Eaten by what?’

The number besides the word BURIED reached 22. EATEN was at 19.

‘Don’t think about that right now,’ Hunter replied. ‘Click whatever buttons you need to click. Do whatever you need to do. Trace this transmission or find a way to interrupt it so people can’t vote. Call your buddies at the FBI Cybercrime Division, I don’t care what you do, but get me something.’

‘I’ll do all I can.’

The countdown clock on the bottom left-hand side of the screen read 8:42, 8:41, 8:40 . . .

BURIED – 47.

EATEN – 49.

‘This is just fucked up,’ Garcia said, running both hands through his hair.

The woman in the box was sobbing so heavily it looked like she was running out of air. She had stopped hammering the glass walls with her fists and feet, and had started clawing at them like a crazed animal. Blood smears started to color the glass.

A moment later she gave up and brought her bleeding and trembling hands to her face. Her lips started moving, and though Hunter could lip-read, everyone watching could easily understand what she was saying.

‘HELP ME. HELP ME.’

‘C’mon,’ Hunter said through gritted teeth. ‘Hang in there.’ Both of his hands had locked into tight fists.

CLOCK – 7:05, 7:04, 7:03 . . .

BURIED – 189.

EATEN – 201.

‘How is this happening?’ Garcia asked, shaking his hands in the air. ‘How are people coming across this website so fast?’

Hunter just shook his head. His eyes were glued to his screen, his expression grave.

Without knocking, Captain Blake opened Hunter and Garcia’s office door and stepped inside. ‘Did you guys get . . .’ She paused mid-sentence as she saw the way they were both staring at their computer screens. ‘What’s going on?’ She started moving toward Hunter’s desk.

No one answered.

Her gaze moved to the computer screen and her breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh my God. He’s back?’

Garcia nodded and quickly explained what was going on.

‘Computer Crimes Unit is trying to do what they can,’ Hunter said. ‘I told Baxter to get in touch with the FBI Cybercrime Division and see if they can help.’ He didn’t glance over to see the captain scowl at him. He didn’t have to. He could feel it. ‘Right now, I’ll take any help I can get to stop this.’ He pointed at his computer screen.

CLOCK – 5:37, 5:36, 5:35 . . .

BURIED – 326.

EATEN – 398.

The woman inside the glass coffin gave up on all her efforts. All she could do now was cry. Suddenly her lips started moving again, and for a split second everyone held their breath. Captain Blake was about to ask Hunter to translate what she was saying, but she didn’t have to. Everyone realized the woman was praying.

Twenty-Six

The phone on Hunter’s desk rang, catching everyone by surprise like an electric shock. The light flashing on the phone’s face indicated an internal call.

Hunter immediately snatched the receiver off its cradle. It was Dennis Baxter.

‘Robert, you’re not going to believe this, but the FBI CCD had already picked up the website. They were trying to figure out what it was when I called them.’

‘Can they help?’

‘I’m on the line with Michelle Kelly. She’s the head of the department. Can you make this into a conference call?’

‘Sure.’ Hunter pressed the necessary buttons. ‘Go ahead.’ He had also put the call on loudspeakers.

‘I’ll make the formal introductions later,’ Baxter said. ‘For now – Homicide Special Detective Robert Hunter meet Special Agent and Head of the FBI Cybercrime Division, Michelle Kelly.’

‘Ms. Kelly,’ Hunter said in a hurried voice. ‘I trust Dennis has explained what we are faced with here. Is there any way you can help?’

‘We’re trying, but so far we’ve only managed to hit brick walls.’ Her voice was feminine but strong. Someone who was definitely used to leading. ‘Whoever is doing this has this thing wrapped up pretty tight.’