The Tesla Event by Vaughn Heppner

Author:Vaughn Heppner [Heppner, Vaughn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-21T00:00:00+00:00

-51-

TEHRAN

IRAN

Jack opened his eyes, disoriented and confused. Where was he and how had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered…

Jack groaned. He remembered hours maybe a day of blurry motion and a strong-willed woman helping him. He had vomited several times. When he drank water, he’d vomited that up too. The woman had wanted to take him to a doctor. Instinctively, Jack had refused. The amazing thing was that he’d gotten the woman to agree with him.

An airplane, they had flown on a commercial jet. From where to where, though?

Jack wasn’t ready to sit up just yet. He lay on the bed. There was no pillow under his head. He had removed pillows from his existence a long time ago. It helped an old injury in his back if he slept without one.

How long had he slept in this room?

From his prone position, he looked around. The wallpaper in this dump had peeled in places. He noticed a cockroach scurrying up a wall. That’s when he saw the single harsh light bulb in the ceiling. A urine stench penetrated his senses then as well.

Instead of making him feel worse, the rundown room made him feel better. He didn’t like cockroaches or piss stenches, but he appreciated the woman’s intelligence in taking them to a rundown hotel. In this sort of place, people didn’t ask questions as quickly. Eventually, everyone got curious. They would have to leave before that happened here.

That still didn’t answer the question of where he was.

Jack frowned. What did he remember? They’d left the Siwa Oasis in a white Toyota pickup. That’s right. He’d hotwired the machine. In places—like just before they reached an Egyptian army barricade—they went off-road. That had been a risk driving in the desert. The Toyota had lacked an air-conditioner. It had been hot, bumpy and almost over when the woman drove into a saltpan. Jack had climbed out and pushed far too long. He’d passed out somewhere during that time.

The next thing he remembered was noise, lots of shouting, pushing people. Someone, the woman— Selene Khan—had helped him walk in a semi-conscious state through a crowded bazaar. Money exchanged hands. Right, right, the woman pocketed the Egyptian pounds. They no longer had a white pickup because they’d just sold it. They lacked guns, having sold them, too, although Jack had retained a knife. With the money—

“Airplane,” Jack whispered. The woman—Selene—bought tickets to—

“Tehran,” Jack whispered. “I’m in Tehran.”

He vaguely remembered Selene paying custom bribes. They lacked solid IDs. He would have to repair that. Selene had taken a big risk flashing the money. If the wrong airport security official—

Jack shook his head. He remembered enough now. They’d taken a taxi to a crappy part of Tehran. He’d stumbled up the stairs. The elevator must have stopped working years ago. This was a fly-spotted hole in the wall.

Jack smacked his lips. His mouth tasted awful. He tried to rise and fell back. His muscles felt slack. Was this a concussion or had he become ill?

I have to get up.

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