Crossing Rubicon

by A J Blanc

  “Calm down ma’am,” Milo soothed. “You’re safe now. We’re with the police. Now, who took your car?”

  She sniffed a couple times before answering. “The guys who just escaped from prison. Aren’t you here about that?” Her question was a bit lighter on the whimpers, Milo noticed.

  “About escaped prisoners? What would they be doing here?”

  “I… I don’t know. I went to meet my boyfriend and they were there.” The crying had almost ceased by that point, and her tone took on a defensive turn.

  “You mean the 22-year-old boyfriend whom your father had arrested, and who just broke out of Leavenworth with two others?” Will finally cut in, not being able to keep silent any longer.

  Milo slowly turned to regard the man. He gave Will a subtly stern look with raised eyebrows, indicating for him to stop talking. Milo turned back to whom he confidently knew was Jaina Isard, giving her a similar, yet softer, glare. She stood agape with her eyes darting frantically between the two men.

  “How long ago did they leave, Miss Isard?” Milo continued in even tones.

  “Uh, about thirty minutes ago, I think.”

  “And how many were in your car when it was taken?”

  “Two… I mean three,” she corrected desperately.

  Both men looked at each other knowingly, and then sprinted for the front door. Milo drew his sidearm while Will talked on his embedded mobile. Jaina stood screaming threats of calling her father if they went into the house. When they reached the door however, her threats turned to pleas, fearing for her culpability of the situation and the safety of the fugitive she was harboring.

  On instinct, once Milo burst through the doorway, he immediately ran up the massive staircase, not phased in the least by the immaculate oak paneling and intricate crown molding. Will had the opposite reaction. He stood in awe of the eighteenth century, Scandinavian architecture, with scores of military memorabilia tastefully on display throughout the foyer. The entryway looked like it had come straight out of the Gilded Age of nineteenth century American architecture. An age, Will recalled, that was one of the more short-lived, for several good reasons.

  Milo’s swift, yet methodical footfalls on the second floor snapped Will out of his veneration. He quickly scanned the large, but empty, first floor rooms. Dining room, kitchen, den; all beautifully rendered, but seemingly unlived in. They were kept in pristine condition, with neither dust nor clutter; but even with an army of clean staff it was obvious the rooms were rarely used. Almost like they were guest showrooms, or rented spaces for events.

  Loud scuffling on the second level compelled Will to finally pull out his weapon. He reached the lodge-like foyer when he spotted a very lean young man descending the wraparound staircase two steps at a time, recognizing him immediately.

  “Hold it Hyde! It already looks bad enough for you Marcus. Don’t make me add assault of a federal officer on top of everything else.”

  The naturally tan form that was Marcus Hyde slowly put his hands up, while also clearing the remaining steps. “Charge me with whatever you please sir,” Hyde responded coolly in a thick Cajun accent. “Nothing I done so far would give reason to send me to maximum security. I just assume you shoot me rather than send me back where I didn’t belong in the first place.”

  Will slightly lowered his aim but remained on target. “I agree with you Marcus. Come with me, now, before the cavalry gets here, and I promise to do what I can so you don’t go back there. I’m here to help, you see?”

  Hyde took a step toward Will, prompting him to raise his gun back up. “I am the cavalry mister,” said Hyde, “Second Colonial Cavalry out of Mars station Acheron. And I don’t believe you. Not after what’s happened to me.”

  “I know that Marcus. I also know why this is happening to you. How you got out with Watson and Parker, and…”

  “That wasn’t my fault!” Hyde boomed. “The other two said they didn’t know what was going on either, but the prison transport malfunctioned and Parker was somehow able to take control. So I said to come he…”

  Hyde suddenly went rigid then collapsed on the floor. Will spotted the stun bolt between his shoulder blades and looked up to see Milo cautiously making his way down the large staircase with gun in hand.

  “You let him get too close. One lunge and he would’ve had you. I’ve seen what these space soldiers can do and, some offense, but I don’t think you could’ve handled him. Not the way I’ve seen you move.”

  Will smirked and holstered his sidearm. “Good thing I let you tag along then,” he jested attempting to get even for the ‘some offense’ comment. “I set up a recall on my car to pick me up when we found the prison transport. It should have tracked me here by now, I suspect.”

  “Tired of my driving already?” Milo cuffed a groggy Hyde, and each man took an arm to lead him outside. “Is this where the jurisdictional pissing contest begins?”

  “Not for me it doesn’t. I just thought my car would be more appropriate, since it has restraints in the back. Besides, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your Stude…”

  Will trailed off when he noticed the small throng that awaited them outside in the courtyard. Most wore maroon and grey jumpsuits with an unfamiliar logo emblazoned on it. The remaining men and women, however, had the telltale look of Bureau of Prisons employees; not to mention the bold yellow BOP on their navy blue jackets.

  “Deputy Durron. Agent Karrde. We have an affidavit for the custody of this man, signed by the governor. As a fellow Justice Department employee Mister Durron, we thank you for the safe recovery of this fugitive.”

  Will was immediately on the defensive. “We haven’t even been here twenty minutes! How did you get the governor’s signature on something he couldn’t possibly know about already?”

  The stuffy, unkempt BOP man diverted his sleepy gaze from Milo to Will in a robotic manner. “The times we live in Agent Karrde. We all have our orders, do we not? You’ve done your part, now it’s our turn to do ours.”

  “Who did you call when we got here?” Milo whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Don’t let them take me,” Hyde pleaded. “You gave me your word.”

  The men in jumpsuits moved to encircle the BOP representative in the cheap suit, who stood at the foot of the expertly designed stone steps beneath Milo, Will, and Hyde. Will opened his mouth to further protest, but thought better of it. His shoulders slumped in a defeated manner, which was felt by the other two in sequence.

  “I’m sorry Marcus, but it doesn’t look like today is our day.” His eyes turned to the increasingly smug BOP man. “I expect this man to be treated with the respect he is due, mister… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “No, I don’t believe you did, Agent Karrde,” the Prisons man said with a smirk. “He will be given the highest of honors we can offer, I assure you.”

  With that, four of the people in jumpsuits ascended the stairs to take custody of Hyde. They courteously swapped out Milo’s cuffs for theirs and returned them to the deputy. The fugitive was utterly speechless, and Milo caught a glimpse of terror in the young man’s eyes as he was led away. He exploded out of his listlessness as he was being stuffed into their transport van, one that was nearly identical to the absconded one from earlier, but the desperate act was quickly quelled by a stun gun.

  In a few short moments, the congested courtyard was just as clear as when they had arrived, aside from Will’s dingy blue government vehicle nearby. The high stone walls, with small ramparts lining the top as if it were small-scale castle walls, overshadowed the now desolate area that gave Will a trapped feeling he hadn’t experienced earlier. Much like the ground level of the house, the courtyard gave off a sense of abandonment.

  “So about our bet,” Milo began as they watched the other transports drift over the western horizon. “I think I’m gonna need more than just one question answered. I’ll make a list for you, so I don’t forget anything.”

  Chapter Five: Lookin
g Glass

  The standoff with Bureau of Prisons, and the unknown jumpsuited entity, had ended as quickly as it began. Before the pair made their way back to their respective cars, they remembered there was one more person who witnessed the events they had to finish interviewing. They tracked down a crestfallen Jaina cowering inside a gazebo at the north end of the courtyard.

  They promised not to tell her father what had happened, in exchange for any information on her stolen vehicle, and the direction the remaining two escapees may have been headed. Once the threat of instant discovery passed, she became quite helpful by detailing how her father tracked the vehicle. Although she said she didn’t see the car leave, she claimed that ‘the smart one’ said they were going south. To Milo and Will however, that meant they were actually planning to travel north.

  For the second time, Milo was surprised that Will had acquiesced to following US Marshal protocol, and not CID’s, by not reporting to the nearest Army field office. They were back in the air and speeding toward Denver. Will had sent his car ahead to the nearest Criminal Investigation Division office to give the impression they had separated; yet another questionable tactic. After a few silent minutes, it was Milo’s turn to receive a new message chime. His dashboard display indicated that it was the preliminary report for the prison transport. Will didn’t appear interested in what the Marshal’s forensic team found, but Milo read it over thoroughly, after setting his car on autopilot.

  “I don’t want to alarm you,” Milo warned sarcastically, “but there may have been foul play involved in the commandeering of that transport.”

  “You don’t say,” Will responded with equal disdain. “Let me guess, a device was discovered on an external programming port that allowed the inmates access to the control-settings. And that device has no distinguishing marks on it to trace.”

  Milo switched back to manual piloting and decelerated to nearly a complete stop. “All right, spill it Karrde. What did you mean when you told Hyde you knew why he was sent to Leavenworth? Who are you chatting with on that tablet of yours?”

  Will rolled up his flex tablet and sighed. “Was I right about the transport or not?”

  “They found evidence there was a device where you said, yes, but it had burned itself up to the point where the team could not extract any data. That’s close enough for me to know that we’re not on the same page.”

  Another sigh. “I don’t have definitive proof yet, but I have reason to believe the Bureau of Prisons has a back-door partnership with the Rosen Network to procure highly skilled inmates to perform in some of their… morally questionable programs. And have been recruiting for them over the past few years at least, for a nominal fee I presume.”

  All Milo could do was stare at the man. His mind tried to analyze a dozen lines of inquiry to make sense out of what Will had just revealed. He had to admit, there was a certain amount of logic to the claim. But such a lucrative arrangement would leave too many loose ends for an agency that kept secrets like a sieve held water.

  “To what end? BOP hasn’t changed their ways in a hundred years. How could they make a deal of this magnitude without anyone finding out?”

  “This is where it gets murky. I couldn’t say how they’re keeping this one thing under wraps, but the most obvious way would be to keep this knowledge extremely limited. This elusive agreement also allows them to keep their prisoner numbers up, but the correctional officers impressively low.”

  “Funding would remain maxed out,” Milo mulled out loud, “but that doesn’t explain what keyed you onto it. How long have your people suspected this?”

  Will’s tablet chimed but he resisted looking at the message he had received, barely. “I can only tell you that I’ve been working on this for about two years. Everything else is before my time on the assignment. Can we move along now?” he asked, as he finally gave in to check what had been so incessantly for vying for his attention.

  “I’m not sure which way we should be going,” Milo answered exasperatedly. “Heading to Denver was just a guess on my part, but your intel seems to be much better than mine. So, mister super spy, where should we be racing to?”

  Will’s head snapped over to regard Milo intently for a long moment; he then went back to a message of particular significance. “As luck would have it, we have a lead on Jaina Isard’s car. Seems as though she really did know all her father’s tricks to track her whereabouts. No surprise there I suppose.”

  When Will didn’t elaborate after several seconds, Milo sat back in a huff. This guy must be new to the whole partnership scene, he thought. Keeping secrets as a way to boost a feeling of self-worth was one thing, but not leaving enough scraps to make educated decisions and satisfy suspicion was a clear sign of amateurism.

  “Sorry,” Will finally responded. “I just wanted to be sure. The Isard’s Aerocar had a regular tracking device, which was disabled almost immediately. But there are two others that ping on different frequencies at random intervals when in motion. The last ping gave a location in Boulder…”

  Milo didn’t wait for him to finish before he hit the accelerator. They were off as if the Sky Hawk had a hyperdrive. He adjusted their heading slightly to the west of their original destination of Denver. The heads-up display indicated the trip would be 26 minutes at their current speed and heading; plenty of time to work on the basic trust issues that continued to plague their forced alliance.

  ~

  Since Will’s government vehicle was nearly to Denver by the time they were en route to Boulder, he re-directed it to their new target for a brief surveillance of the area. The National brand vehicle was a no-frills model when it came to comfort or performance, but its scanning equipment came close to rivaling a modern reconnaissance drone. In fact, the surveillance package was likely worth more than the car itself.

  “Looks like they torched it,” Will volunteered from the scan results of Jaina’s stolen car and surrounding vicinity. “Whatever her cover story to her father was, it may need some revision. The car was left in an abandoned lot not far from the regional airport. That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?”

  “And here I thought I’d be the only one to find that odd,” Milo chimed in. Will turned his way with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Consider who we’re chasing here. Watson is a highly skilled and decorated intelligence agent, and Parker was with Marine Recon. Both are trained to blend in and not draw attention to themselves. Where does setting a stolen car on fire near a transportation hub play into that?”

  Will regarded him for another long moment before answering. His steel blue eyes danced in thought. Eventually, he slumped in concession with his head digging into the soft leather seat.

  “I was being facetious earlier, but you evidently think it’s a ruse. Security would likely be too tight at airports to risk using anyway… at least for both of them together.”

  “Well, I hadn’t considered them splitting up, but they would’ve quickly realized their chances of getting caught go up the longer they’re together. So yeah, they’re definitely trying to throw us off. What do you suppose their plan from here might be?”

  Will turned back to his flex tablet and vigorously manipulated its interface. The pair had passed Denver, and Milo could see the Boulder skyline quickly approaching. Milo didn’t want to rush Will, but it would waste precious seconds to make a detour once they’d passed any potential leads. It served no purpose to check the burned sports car. Milo recalled the forensic team from earlier and redirected them to Boulder as a potential answer came to Will.

  “There’s a high-speed train station just beyond the airport from the direction of where the car was burned. A hover train just departed westbound.” Will turned and smiled at Milo. “Do you think this thing can catch it?”

  Milo’s response was a grin as he pressed the accelerator as far as it would go. The Stude swerved to the left, and the magno-rails hover trains used to defy gravity became visible in seconds. While interstate hove
r trains were relatively safe and reliable, the downside to pursuing one was that they didn’t actually make full stops, except at major transit ports. There were designated transfer points at various locations where entire passenger carriages were smoothly removed at one point, and others, either empty, or partially occupied, were latched onto the train a few seconds later.

  Finding a vehicle that could keep up with its near-supersonic speed was hard to come by, unless one had access to military craft. The new Studebakers were supposed to be faster than the average domestic cars, but certainly not Mach one to overtake it at full speed. Milo just hoped the next station was near enough for the train to slow so they could catch up with their quarry.

  “These things move faster than I remember,” Milo begrudgingly conceded. The rails a purple blur from their ultraviolet light beneath them. “What’s the next major stop?”

  “Salt Lake City it looks like,” Will read from his three millimeter thick flexible sheet for a tablet. “But carriages fourteen through ten disengage at various stations along the way. The next mid-sized transfer point is only a few minutes out. The train will have to slow down to swap out the carriages. I’ll alert local police at those stations about our wayward friends.”

  “Good,” Milo added. “That’ll give me time to land on their ops car. I was afraid you might have to jump,” he finished with a sly tenting of his brow.

  “Aren’t those operations spaces reserved for engineers and Transportation Marshalls?”

  “Probably, but the average engineer doesn’t know the difference between Homeland Security Marshalls and US Marshals anyway. I’m betting that whoever might challenge us is either ignorant of that, or apathetic to the whole situation.

  Will nodded in agreement. “No bet from me. That’s a much more doable plan than me jumping anyway… not as daring and heroic though.”

  “Feel free to jump out the door any time pal. All right, there it is. I think we might just make it! Hold on, this’ll likely be an uncomfortable landing.”