by Bob Blink
"But she will be speaking to a U.S. Senator, one in the intelligence community," Glen objected.
"That is a concern," Mark agreed, "so we need to learn what we can quickly, and have another meeting to address how we want to go forward before that meeting takes place."
"What can we do in such a short time?" Stephanie objected. "I worry that we are getting in too far over our heads. Maybe Pam is right, we should pass this off to someone better to handle it." Even as she spoke, she looked uncomfortable at the idea.
Mark nodded.
"That's why we need to get together. Jessie and I want to investigate a bit more so we make any decision from a standpoint of knowledge. When all of you go back to work on Monday, it is important that you make every attempt to understand what information you might have taken to the meetings we all attended last week. What could we be being used for? Also, if Steph can find out if our phones are somehow being used in all of this. Realize we all might be guilty of passing information to an enemy."
"I thought you said you couldn't tell what you took to the meeting," Monica asked.
"I couldn't," Mark acknowledged, "but you may have better luck. We need to find one link to what we all are doing, and that might help direct the rest of us."
"I'm going to make an attempt to get inside that building," Jessie explained. "I think we'll learn a lot more there than anywhere else. It would be interesting to see if the meeting area actually exists there, and what else I might find examining the rooms where we went one by one for our 'debriefings'. Also, Johnson left a suitcase there. I'd be real interested to know if it is still there."
"And if you find something?" Glen asked.
"Then I will let you all know right away. Whatever I learn will help us make an informed decision as to how to proceed."
"And if we all have been breaking the law somehow?" Jerry asked.
"It seems likely we have," Mark interrupted. "What we need is something that supports that we were being used, and didn't know that's what was happening."
"I can see trying to sell that to the FBI," Monica snorted.
"Fortunately Mark and I have some leverage with them," Jessie explained, "but your worry is well taken. Our actions are going to be very hard to explain. You can't get past the fact we have been having these strange sessions for several years, and have apparently lied to our management as to what we were doing. Trying to convince someone else that we believed our actions were driven by our management isn't going to be believed."
"There isn't some way to get Pam to hold off giving us a bit more time?" Glen asked.
"Maybe if I learn something we can get her to delay?" Jessie said.
"That's all?" Glen asked. "You're going to have a look into that building while the rest of us try to figure out why we were invited to those meetings? It doesn't seem like a very proactive approach."
"I want to have a closer look at Bud Johnson, and who it is that we saw killed and who is his replacement, but that's not an easy task, nor something that we can do quickly. I'm hoping the building will reveal who we met there, and give us something to follow up on. Once we have a lead or two in that direction, Mark's skills should be helpful in following up. We need something to convince Pam Chou to hold off a bit so we can pursue some of the other issues."
"Maybe we'd learn more if the cops were informed," Monica said softly. "They could have a look at the crime scene, and wouldn't have trouble checking into who ever this person is that is impersonating Johnson?"
"I am pretty certain the crime scene won't reveal anything. I had another look at where it happened, and there is nothing to be seen. No blood, nothing. The hoods are long gone, and won't be found. Granted, they'd have better access to this strange Johnson replacement, but that would mean revealing all, which I don't think any of us are ready for just yet."
Jessie refrained from mentioning the weapon that Mark had recovered from the snowbank, but she was convinced it wouldn't have a traceable history, and the man who had fired it wore gloves. She might have it checked for fingerprints, but the shooters weren't what was important here.
They discussed their options for a while longer, then the group agreed they needed to get home and consider what actions they might pursue the next day. None were happy about what they had learned, and what illegal activities they might have been involved in for the past couple of years, and what compromising information they might have given to whoever was behind their actions. Mostly they wanted to know who and how.
"Again, be very careful of your phones," Mark warned. "We may be completely wrong, but it is the one link we can think of that might explain how we are being controlled. They also allow your movements to be tracked."
After everyone had left, Jessie looked at Mark and said, "We need to talk."
Mark closed the door and turned to Jessie, uncertain what was on her mind. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Jerry and Monica haven't accepted the reality of our situation entirely, and are hoping matters will simply pass and fade away. They hope not thinking about things, or not doing anything will simple make it all disappear."
Mark nodded. That was his reading as well.
"I like Stephanie," he said. "She took independent action and appears to want answers. I think we can work with her. She has some valuable technical contacts that operate outside our normal channels."
Jessie nodded. She knew what Mark was saying. Between their two intelligence organizations they had people at hand with almost any skills one could wish, but accessing them risked exposing the matter, which was exactly what they were trying to avoid for now. Perhaps they would end up deciding it was best to go to their respective management, but for a number of reasons that felt wrong for the moment.
"Glen was shaken by what we have learned," Mark added. "Even so, I believe he can be an asset. He is somewhat frustrated because there is no clear adversary to confront, which is contrary to the way he has been trained to function. He wants answers to the disturbing discoveries he has made about himself. Revealing to his superiors that he has no ability to fly he has to view as career limiting, even though he has passed beyond the point in his career where he would be doing that any more. But the military views these things a certain way."
As they talked they policed up the remains of the snacks and pushed the two carts out into the hallway where hotel staff could pick them up without entering the room. The drinks were something they had brought, and they simply left them standing on the counter, the plastic cups thrown into the trash.
"Is it still your plan to break into the building where this all started tomorrow?" Mark asked. Jessie had told the others as much, but he wasn't certain she really meant it.
"Absolutely," came the firm reply. "We need answers, and Pam's promised actions have placed us in a corner. We don't have the luxury of waiting, besides, where else can we learn much? I had a close look at the security on the building, and it is dated, and easily overcome. I was hoping you would come along. That's what I wanted to talk with you about."
Mark had suspected as much, and the simple truth was he didn't want to push this matter aside while he went back to work. But there was the matter of the accelerated schedule, and the changes that Fred had talked to him about Friday. He had already neglected his partner by not being at work over the weekend.
"What about work?" he asked, wondering what plans Jessie had made. She talked as if her time was her own.
"I already requested a couple of weeks off," she explained. "The timing is good, at least in that sense."
"Wish I could say the same," Mark replied. He explained about the meeting he'd had with his partner and boss on Friday, and the pressure the accelerated schedule was going to place on him.
"Call in sick," she urged. "Yes, it might be putting your job at risk, but consider the risks this whole matter poses. It could well be that our jobs are already lost once this all comes to light. I believe this poses more of a risk to your future than any delays a day or two of m
issed work might pose. While I can probably handle the break in alone, that is the kind of thing that works better with more than one pair of eyes and ears."
Mark knew she was right, but was torn between the responsibility he felt about his work, and wanting to help Jessie. A tingle of fear and anticipation touched his nerves as he considered the idea of breaking the law and sneaking into the locked building.
"I'll think on it," he said, surprising himself.
"Well, be here at eight, if you change your mind," Jessie said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
"Here?" Mark asked.
"I figured to spend the night. There's a comfortable bed, and I brought a small suitcase of stuff I might need. It's in the bedroom closet. Why fight the Metro in the morning, just to come back downtown?"
"You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you?" Mark asked.
"Ever since I spotted those signs on the building the other day. I knew then I had to get inside and see what I could find, but didn't want to risk it before I could inform the rest of you about the anomaly."
Mark felt uncomfortable by his lack of thought on the matter.
"If you decide to come, make sure you bring your gun," she warned. "What exactly are you carrying."
Mark pulled the diminutive automatic out of concealment and showed it to her. When she urged him to hand it to her, he carefully passed it across to her.
"A Smith M&P," she noted. "A bit small for general service use. I also don't like the 9mm caliber. Not a reliable stopper. A forty would be better."
"I wanted something that was concealable," Mark replied defensively. "My .45 is somewhat more difficult to hide and wear for an extended period."
"I'm surprised this has a manual safety," Jessie said, noting the small lever near the back of the pistol. "Like my Glock, this really doesn't require one, with the multiple internal safeties."
"It's an option Smith offers," Mark explained. "I chose it over the Glock for that reason."
"You felt it was important?"
"For a couple of reasons. My finger has a habit of finding itself inside the trigger guard, and the trigger disables all the safeties in both the Glock and the Smith," Mark explained. "The manual safety gives me protection against myself in the event I get nervous or forgetful."
"It's a damn little thing," Jessie noted. "I'd be more afraid it would delay my response in an urgent situation."
"It is a bit of a stinker to put on, but I figured I'd have lots of time to safe the weapon. It disengages easily enough despite it's small size and minimal thumb access."
"Wouldn't want it," Jessie said with finality. "You said there were a couple of reasons you chose it?"
Mark smiled. "Something a friend told me. A cop he knew bought one of the larger M&P's a while back. Ordered it with a safety as well. Found he loved the weapon, and replaced his duty weapon, a Glock like yours, with it. One day he confronted a bad guy, not realizing there was a second one out of sight. The short version of the story, the gun was taken from him. Apparently familiar with the class of weapon and how they worked, the guy attempted to shoot him, and couldn't figure out why the gun wouldn't go off. He also didn't expect the manual safety, and it gave the cop time to recover the weapon. He claims he's alive today because of the safety. It slowed the shooter down enough he could recover the weapon. Made an impression on me, and I thought the extra edge couldn't hurt."
Mark could tell that Jessie wasn't particularly impressed by his arguments.
"Concealment won't be a major concern tomorrow," Jessie said. "If you decide to come, bring your Kimber instead." Clearly she was hoping his decision regarding participating wasn't final.
Mark nodded and putting the Smith away, gathered up his coat and prepared to leave. "I'll call you in the morning," he promised.
Chapter 11
"Tammy, it's Mark," he said nasally into the phone. He was more than a bit nervous as he waited in anticipation for her response. Well, there was good reason to be. He was not only preparing to lie to avoid going to work, but he was attempting to drag Tammy unknowingly into his prevarication, using her to facilitate his escape today. In addition, there was the realization he had crossed a boundary, calling her at home on the number she had slipped to him some months ago. He knew she would read more into the call than he wished, and there would be consequences from the bribe he intended to offer her for the task he wanted her to accomplish. He felt a quiver in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He could envision her wearing something sexy when he took her out to dinner, the reward he had in mind, and could envision how the evening might end. Clearly he was attracted to her, and wondered why he hadn't followed up on his attraction before, somehow avoiding thinking about a possible disloyalty to his sometimes girlfriend.
He was rewarded by her sharp intake of breath, and then the husky voice of his coworker. Somehow she managed to inject a bit more throaty sexiness into her response, even caught unawares. He sensed that she was surprised, but also pleased by the unexpected call. He also sensed a question and curiosity in her brief response. She wouldn't have known it was him before hearing his voice, even if she had caller ID activated. He was on his home landline, a number he simply didn't pass out. Sometimes he'd share his cell number, and had passed it to her the day Tammy had flirtingly passed him her number. Mark didn't know if she would have recognized it or not, since they had never called one another, but for some reason believed she would have stored it into her phone directory. He wasn't using his cell phone at the moment for a variety of reasons, including the fact he had wanted to catch her off guard. He hadn't wanted her to have time to consider his call before realizing it was him who was calling.
"Mark," she said, hesitating momentarily. "You caught me completely by surprise. You've never called before. You sound strange. Is everything alright?"
He knew she had paused in order to convince herself it was really him. Not only would the unexpectedness of his call have given her pause, because also because he knew he sounded different, the thick nasal sounds added to his voice making him sound congested. The nasal congestion was a ruse. A long time sufferer of sinus issues, several years ago his doctor had directed him to use a nasal rinse, something called Neilmed, every morning. The stuff had worked wonders, but left him sounding completely stuffed up for about fifteen minutes, something that passed by the time he normally left for work. But today, he'd completed the rinse and called her immediately after, knowing she would more readily accept his planned story of being sick.
"Oh man," he complained. "I've come down with a lulu of a cold, or some kind of flu," he complained.
"Oh no," she sympathized. "It's been going around though. Apparently it comes on pretty fast."
"Boy, you're telling me," Mark agreed, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck.
"I assume you aren't going into work today?" she asked, clearly wondering why he would have called her with this news. He'd been sick before, and had never felt inclined to contact her. She had found out like everyone else when he wasn't there.
"Not a chance," he agreed. "I'm going to medicate up, crawl back under the covers, and try to get some rest. I didn't sleep much last night."
"Sounds like a wise move," Tammy agreed. "But Mark, why are you calling me about this. Shouldn't you call Mr. Weiner?"
"Yeah, I'll be leaving him a message in a minute. But I need your help. You were going to be joining Fred and me today to help accelerate the completion of this project he and I have been working. What you probably don't know is that Abe has been directed to move up the schedule, and at the same time Fred has come up with one of his brilliant ideas that involves rewriting a significant block of the already tested code. I was unable to work with him this weekend and was supposed to go over his ideas, and push the testing side starting today."
"I don't think I like where this is headed," Tammy said. The flirtatious tone in her voice had disappeared. She was no dummy, and had already guessed what he wanted to ask of her.
&nbs
p; "Look, you know more than anyone else what we are attempting to do, and are already tasked with joining us. You could really help keep this effort on schedule."
"I was expecting I'd be working with you," she complained. "Fred's a creep. I don't like the thought of working one on one with him."
"I understand, and am sorry about that, but someone needs to keep him focused or he'll start expanding the effort well outside the bounds of what is required. I can't have that happen, especially with the suddenly compacted schedule. It will only be for a day or so. I'll be over this soon enough, and then I'll buffer you from Fred."
"I know people have their precious schedules," Tammy said, "but we both know that a day or two won't really matter. Maybe I should just tell Abe I'll stay with my current tasks until you return."
Mark had known this would be her response, and so had planned the bribe.
"Look, this is really important. If you could see your way to doing this for me, and putting up with Fred for a couple of days, I'll be really appreciative. Perhaps we could go out on the town once I'm recovered and back at work."
"You're bribing me with a date?" she asked incredulously.
"Sort of," Mark admitted. "I've been thinking of asking for some time," he lied, "but I've been so swamped with work, the idea had sort gotten buried. I thought maybe this was a good time for us to contemplate the idea. What do you think?"
He was pushing it, but hoped the interest he thought he'd sensed in her all along was real, and she wouldn't want to give him an excuse to drop the date idea altogether. She might not entirely like the idea that he was using the offer to get her to do an odious task, but hopefully wanted to get together with him enough she'd overlook that side of the situation. She hesitated long enough he wondered if she was going to refuse, and maybe even hang up on him.