Free Ambush by Sigmund Brouwer Page A

sound of a slap.
    â€œIs that what you do when you don’t have a good answer?” Ashley asked. “Hit people? Like that proves you right?”
    Ashley could only be doing this to distract him. Maybe she’d seen over his shoulder and noticed my little movements on the desk. If that was true, I didn’t have much time. I scrambled back from the edge of the bottom of the computer and went for the paper clip. I wrestled with it and managed to drag it under the computer.
    â€œTell me where you’ve hidden Project 3,” Dr. Jordan hissed.
    I lifted the paper clip, balancing it on end. Twice it nearly fell. But I managed to push it up into the gap. It leaned against the edge of the gap, and I was able to climb onto the pen. One big shove and the paper clip fell into the base of the computer.
    â€œThere’s nothing you can do to me,” Ashley said with determined defiance.
    â€œReally?” Dr. Jordan asked.
    With one hand I was able to grab the edge of the gap and pull myself up. With the other hand I pushed and let the ant-bot topple inside. I was now in the guts of the computer, armed with a paper clip.
    I froze as I heard Dr. Jordan’s next words.
    â€œFine,” he said to Ashley. “You’ll talk when I bring the wheelchair kid in here and show you how painful I can make life for him.”
    â€œTyce? How can you hurt Tyce?”
    I frantically wrestled the paper clip.
    â€œVery easily. See you in a minute.” He laughed cruelly.
    â€œSit tight while I’m gone.”
    I heard the door shut behind him.
    â€œTyce?” Ashley called out frantically a few seconds later. “Did you hear that? You need to leave the ant-bot!”
    I was too busy with the paper clip to answer.

CHAPTER 20
    I opened my eyes in the darkness of the storage room.
    How long before Dr. Jordan arrives from his office on the other side of the dome?
    I didn’t waste any time. First I reached behind me and disconnected the transmitter from my neck. I dropped it down the back of my jumpsuit again. All I could do was hope Dr. Jordan didn’t decide to search me again. But there was no point in trying to dump it. Without the transmitter, Ashley and I had no chance at all.
    Seconds later the door opened without warning. It was Dr. Jordan. With the security guard beside him.
    â€œTake him,” Dr. Jordan commanded. “And follow me to my office.”

    â€œIt’s very simple, Ashley.” Dr. Jordan paced back and forth in front of both of us. He had taken me into his office and sent the security guard back to help watch the other hostages. Ashley was still in her chair, taped by the arms to the armrests. I was in my wheelchair, helpless as always. “You tell me where you’ve hidden Project 3, or your friend Tyce becomes the first hostage to be executed.”
    Dr. Jordan pointed at the satellite feed attached to his computer. “It will make for a spectacular news story—don’t you think? People will be riveted to their 3-D sets for television history. He’s young, he’s in a wheelchair, and not only was he the first person born on Mars, he’ll be the first to die on Mars.”
    Ashley turned her head and stared at me. Her face twisted with horror and dread.
    â€œNo,” I said. “You can’t tell him.”
    â€œBest of all, Ashley,” Dr. Jordan continued, “you’ll be right here watching it live.”
    Dr. Jordan moved to his desk and picked up a neuron gun. He pointed it at my wrist, which rested on the armrest of my wheelchair.
    Then he smiled and squeezed the trigger.
    There was no sound, nothing for the eye to see. But the electrical impulses hit me instantly, disabling the nerve endings of my left wrist and hand.
    I couldn’t help myself. I lifted my other arm and yelled.
    My left hand and wrist hung uselessly.
    â€œHow was that?” Dr. Jordan asked Ashley. “Would you like to see