Infiltrator

by Bob Blink

"Just so we are clear," I'm not a trained field agent," he replied. "I'm a computer jock."

  "But you can shoot?"

  "I can keep most of them in the black of a five inch bulls eye at twenty-five yards," Mark replied.

  "Under fire?" Jessie asked, eying him critically.

  Mark shrugged.

  "Probably not. I've never been in that situation. I'm certain being shot at would significantly alter my accuracy."

  She nodded.

  "At least you are honest. Had you said it wouldn't matter or claimed two inch groups, I would have dismissed everything you said."

  "How about you?" Mark asked, turning the questioning around.

  " I nailed my opponent the one time it came to a shootout. I have no idea how tightly grouped my shots might have been. On the range, with my service weapon, I can cut your group size in half."

  "How do we get to where these two live?" Mark asked. "I didn't bring their addresses, and neither of us have a car."

  "I wrote down their addresses," Jessie admitted. "I've got all of you noted down here."

  She pulled out a small notebook in which she'd written in a very small, careful script. Jerry Marshal lives on U street, which is on the Metro green line, just a couple of stops from your own. Miss Chou, on the other hand, lives in Mclean, which tells you a little about her situation."

  "Money," Mark answered immediately.

  "So it seems. From her parents, both of whom are gone now. She and her sister shared the estate. As she told us the other night, she and her sister aren't on very good terms."

  "How about we take the Metro to visit Jerry?" Mark suggested. From there we can go on to my place, grab my Explorer, and drive off to see Pam. I have a feeling a car will be better in McLean. Do we call them first, and see if they are in? Let them know to expect us?"

  Jessie shook her head as he spoke.

  "Uh-huh. They haven't acted. Don't want to give them a chance to be elsewhere. I was also about to suggest getting your car. It's closer than mine. We can drive it back here, and park it in the underground parking lot. If you don't want to take it to work in the morning, you can simply leave it here. We have this place for two weeks at the moment."

  "That's another issue," Mark said. "What about work? How do we pursue this with work taking up most of our time?"

  "I'm not going in tomorrow, and anticipate taking a couple of weeks off," she replied. "I've nothing that pressing at the moment."

  "My situation is just the opposite. Friday my boss just advanced an already tight schedule. My partner wanted me in this weekend. Getting away is going to be complicated."

  "Let's see what we learn, and plan accordingly," Jessie suggested.

  They left the Metro at the U Street stop as planned. Jerry Marshall lived only a couple of blocks from the Metro, and despite the cold, the skies were clear this morning and the sidewalks had been cleared. No more snow was forecast for the immediate future, and the city might actually be able to dig out today.

  U Street was once the center of black culture in Washington, D.C. It was the birthplace of Duke Ellington, and in the beginning featured row houses of marginal quality. The area had declined greatly after the death of Martin Luther King, but in the last decade or so considerable redevelopment money had flowed into the area, making it a desirable area once again. In addition to considerable affordable housing, some upscale apartments and condos had spouted up. Given it was only some five miles to the Pentagon, Marshall must have found the area attractive.

  They found the apartment complex where Marshall lived without difficulty, and made their way to the front entrance where they encountered the security entrance with the array of call buttons. There were ten apartments in the building. Fortunately, there appeared to be no video system.

  "Let's not announce ourselves," Jessie suggested. "You are UPS. I'd do it, but women delivery persons aren't as common."

  Mark nodded. The chances of Jerry recognizing his voice were near nonexistent, especially over the intercom system. He walked over to the panel, and pressed the button next to Jerry's name.

  It took almost two minutes before someone answered.

  "Who?" Jerry asked.

  "UPS," growled Mark. "I have a package for a J. Marshall."

  "I didn't order anything," Marshal replied. "Who is it from?"

  "I just see Amazon Fullfillment Center," Mark replied, thinking of all the packages that came to him from there.

  "Are you certain of the address?"

  Mark pretended to read off the name and address.

  "You want me to just leave it here," he offered.

  "No, no. It might be something important. Can you bring it here?"

  "If you let me in," Mark said smiling.

  The door activator buzzed, and Jessie pulled open the entrance.

  "People are too damn trusting," she said, as they headed down the bright hallway.

  Jerry was just opening the door as they walked up. The look of surprise and recognition was almost laughable. He wore and old frayed sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans, along with a pair of worn slippers he probably had just pulled on.

  "Nice trick," he said. "Why did you believe it was necessary? You could have just indicated who it was. I'd have let you in."

  "We couldn't be certain. You haven't followed up as we agreed. How about we talk inside," Jessie suggested."

  Once they were inside with the door closed, a resigned Marshall pointed them toward a couple of chairs in the living room. Mark could see that he had been reading, with a glass of wine and a plate of crackers set on the side table next to a comfortable recliner.

  Jessie pulled a small electronic scanner out of her purse and walked around the room watching the device as she did so. When she completed the circuit, she asked where his cell phone was.

  "In the bedroom," Jerry replied. "Why?"

  "We'll explain later, but that is a good place for it at the moment. "Now why haven't you followed up as we all agreed at the restaurant?"

  "I haven't felt like going out to get a junk phone," Jerry admitted. "It didn't seem all that urgent and I figured I could pick something up at lunch tomorrow."

  Mark could sense that there was a lot that Jerry wasn't saying. Apparently Jessie was of the same mind.

  "Actually you didn't plan on getting a phone at all, or following up with contact as we discussed, did you?"

  The quick darting of Jerry's eyes between Mark and Jessie gave him away. After a moment his shoulders slumped.

  "What if I didn't," he said. "This whole thing has me very upset. The whole group of us committed a crime. Failure to report a killing is probably a felony. We should have gone to the police straight off."

  "You know the circumstances were unusual, and that it wouldn't have accomplished anything beyond placing the lot of us in an awkward situation," Mark pointed out.

  "And where are we now?' Jerry shot back. "It's been several days now. That only makes it worse. We could have explained away the failure to call it in immediately based on the situation, but now its far too late. And what are we going to say when they coming looking? And you know they will. When Johnson turns up missing, someone is going to start investigating, and sooner or later they will get around to us. What do you think they will have to say about our story then? They are going to believe we are all somehow involved in his death."

  "So you want to go to the police?" Jessie asked.

  "Actually, I want to hide and pretend the whole thing never happened," Jerry admitted. "I want things to go back to the way they were."

  "Well, in a way, you have your wish," Mark said dryly. "The police aren't going to come looking, and there isn't going to be any death to explain away."

  "What are you talking about," Jerry asked, a quizzical look on his face.

  "Bud Johnson showed up at work on Friday just as he was scheduled to do," Jessie explained. "No one there has any reason to wonder what happened to him."

  "That's impossible," Jerry protested. "Th
e man is dead. We all saw him shot, and then burn up somehow. Whoever told you this is a liar, or there was an imposter who took his place."

  "No one told me," Jessie said. "I was there and saw him. I even spoke with him. I went to New York on Friday to see what was going to happen because this whole situation is so unusual. You don't think people would spot an imposter? Someone trying to replace a person they work with every day. I was as close to him as I am to you right now. I discussed the encounter I had with him before going into the meetings on Thursday. Only Bud Johnson could have known what we talked about, and this guy recalled the conversation exactly. He looks and acts just like him."

  "The way you say that makes it sound like you don't believe it is him either," Jerry noted defensively.

  "Well, as you pointed out, we all saw him shot. I was the one who went after his assailant. But also, during my discussion with him, he told me that he left the meetings, went to the airport and caught a delayed flight back home that night. He was totally sincere. I think he believed it. Yet all of us know that isn't what happened."

  "Why would he lie like that?" Jerry asked. "He would have to know you knew otherwise."

  "Unless he isn't Johnson, and doesn't know what really happened," Mark said.

  Jerry looked at Mark uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand," he admitted.

  "Neither do we," Jessie said. "But we don't think the man I had lunch with is Bud Johnson. Not the Bud Johnson we interacted with that day. He's a replacement, who has some knowledge he shouldn't and lacks some he should."

  "Where would anyone get a perfect replacement that could pass among people who know him," Jerry scoffed. "And so quickly."

  "That's one of the things we need to find out," Mark said. "Why we need to get together and jointly investigate this. Have you thought about what we all talked about at dinner? I went and checked into my background. I found I'm not exactly who I believed, and my past is somewhat different than I thought."

  Jerry shook his head. "I've always been uncertain about my past," he admitted. "I've had occasion to look into it before, and it doesn't make sense."

  "It's clear all of us are somehow involved in something we weren't aware of, and probably still wouldn't be had it not been for the storm interrupting our normal activity. Whoever is behind this has us doing something we aren't aware of, and has the ability to do some things we would claim impossible."

  "You can see that we can't simply go to the authorities and try to tell them about this," Mark said. "None of it is believable, and there is zero hard evidence to support what we have all experienced."

  "And if our actions while under the influence of these people are anything like what I suspect, we are almost certain to end up in prison," Jessie added. "We need to find some answers, which we can use for leverage in our own behalf."

  Jerry was clearly overwhelmed by the sudden revelations. "This is impossible. What do you think we can do?"

  "We don't know just yet," Jessie admitted. "First we need information, and some idea of what we might have been doing without conscious awareness. Mark made a preliminary check when he went to work on Friday, but was unable to uncover anything. We apparently have done an excellent job of covering our tracks."

  "We want to get everyone together tonight and start working out a plan," Mark said. "We need you to be there. We also need you to keep this whole thing quiet. Once we bring it up, whoever is controlling our actions will know of it. Oh, and get rid of your phone. Jessie and I are convinced it might be a link back to those behind this and even potentially a means of controlling us."

  "Lock it away for now," Jessie said, pulling a cheap phone out of her purse and handing it over to Jerry. "Use this to contact us. I have already put our numbers into it. Don't use it for anything else. Get another phone for your normal line. We'll talk more about this at the meeting tonight."

  Jerry looked at the cheap phone he held. "Where is this meeting?" he asked reluctantly.

  Mark gave him the address and room number, along with the time.

  "Remember to keep this quiet," Jessie warned. "Don't tell anyone about it."

  "You needn't worry about that," Jerry promised.

  Chapter 9

  "You brought extra phones with you?" Mark asked Jessie as they walked back toward the Metro station.

  "I had a suspicion that Jerry wouldn't have an intention of getting one himself. Now we have a contact with him, and a tracer I might add, and he is more likely to show up tonight. I suspect our next slacker is going to be even more of a problem. As I recall, Miss Chou wasn't very much in favor of our plans when we parted the other night. If anyone will have leaked our situation, it will be her. I have another phone for her, but I expect more resistance to joining us than Marshall demonstrated.

  They boarded the Metro and ceased their discussions. There were too many ears there, even though it was unlikely that anyone would have a real interest in what they were talking about. It was only a couple of stops until they reached the stop near the college where Mark lived.

  "You think Miss Chou might have spoken to someone?" Mark asked as they walked toward his apartment. He recalled that she had been the most adamant the other night that they needed to contact the police and report what had happened. "You'd think if she informed anyone officially, we would have been approached by now."

  "She was clearly of that mindset at the restaurant," Jessie said, agreeing with Mark's recollections, "but no, not yet. As you say, we would have been contacted. But frankly I'm a bit surprised she hasn't. She had the attitude, and given her privileged position, she could see that it was her best recourse."

  Mark considered what he knew about Pam Chou. She was rich, had gone to law school at Yale, and now worked for one of the most influential Senators in the country. According to Jessie, he was also a family friend Pam had known since childhood. He could see where she might believe herself immune to some of the concerns of the rest of the group, and that her position could be threatened by any lack of direct action. Given all this, he could agree that it was a bit surprising that the woman had apparently held back. Perhaps the command issued by the dying Johnson had more effect than it seemed.

  Once they reached Mark's building, they entered the front but headed directly toward the underground parking area. A few minutes later the Ford nosed its way out of the semi-dark underground cavern onto the street as Mark turned north toward the beltway. McLean was about a third of the way around the beltway loop, and that would be the easiest and quickest way to reach the area where Chou lived.

  Turning west onto the beltway, Mark scanned the road ahead as Jessie entered their destination into the vehicle's navigation system. It was a feature that Mark had seldom used. He knew the area well enough, and was familiar with the exit they sought, but admittedly, the residential streets where the woman lived weren't that familiar to him.

  As he drove he considered his companion. He had to admit he was impressed by her initative and thoroughness. She'd checked out their murdered companion, had a careful look at the area where all of this had started, apparently done considerably more research on their companions from the incident that had triggered all this, and come prepared with additional phones when two of the group hadn't followed through as they'd agreed the other day.

  "Here," Jessie said, interrupting Mark's thoughts.

  Mark turned smoothly onto the street that led them deeper into what was clearly an upper-upper class neighborhood. At least the street wasn't populated with gated mansions, but clearly the homes were far outside his price range. The streets were wide and lined with tall oak trees, barren now, but which would be spectacular in the summer and fall.

  "What do you think these places cost?" Jessie asked, as she watched the homes drift slowly past. The navigation system indicated that Chou's home was partway down the next block.

  "North of five million," Mark answered. "Some of them well north, I'd say."

  "Why do you think she works?" Jessie asked, nodding at his
answer. "She clearly doesn't need the money."

  "Politically ambitious," Mark guessed. "She went to a prestigious law school and now works as a senior aide to a top politician. I'd say she is grooming herself for a political career down the line. Another reason she wouldn't want her record tainted by any kind of controversial criminal action. Holding back information on a killing is the kind of thing that could potentially sink her career."

  They spotted the house a short distance ahead. It was about average for the residences on the block, with the house set back from the street. A series of doors indicated a three-car garage, with any vehicles secured safely out of view. The lawn appeared to be large, with a number of trees and bushes, now bare, but suggestive of a home that would be lush and model perfect in warmer times Mark thought as he turned into the driveway. There was no point trying to be tricky here.

  "I've met her boss, Senator Conroy," Mark revealed as he brought the car to a stop and turned off the engine. "He's on the Intelligence Committee, and my own project is being driven by the man. He and the President. I just learned the other day they are pressing to move up the schedule."

  As they walked toward the front door, Mark scanned the outlines of the house. He spotted several security cameras. It was very likely the residents were very aware of their arrival. The large ornate double doors were equipped with an electronic doorbell, complete with two-way video for contacting those inside. No one here would be caught off guard like Jerry Marshall had been.

  Mark pressed the backlit button, hearing a chime inside the house.

  "Yes," a voice asked after a moment. It wasn't the voice of Pam Chou, but there was no picture to show whom it might be.

  "We are here to see Miss Chou," Jessica said, feeling a woman might get a more cordial response given the speaker was female, although just because they couldn't see the speaker, she had little doubt both of them were being examined at the moment.

  "We are acquaintances of Miss Chou's," Jessica explained. She gave their names. "Could you please tell her we are here and that it is urgent we speak with her?"