by Thomas Shaw
Don had noticed how the subject was using the special hand control found in the newer jet fighters. By placing his right arm on a specially designed armrest he could fly with higher G load maneuvers without his hand being forced off the flight controls. By having this extra energy and the added help from adrenaline his reaction time had more than tripled.
SAM was quick to add that he could only remain in this state for about 90 to 100 seconds before parts of his body would start shutting down from the stress. Watching him fly various maneuvers in the flight simulator was like watching someone replay a video tape at an accelerated speed.
It looked surreal… just like this whole mission.
10
Moscow, Russia… later that night.
Colonel Zukeroff hung-up the phone and turned to his longtime associate. “That was a very strange conversation I just had with one of Putin’s top aids… the President Putin,” he added, with a serious look. “He was telling me that some psychic… Madame Bolimeo or something like that, has informed him that someone in Mexico or in the Mexican government has stolen some top-secret information and is looking for someone to help them do something and wants me to find out what it is.”
Both men stared at each other with a blank look.
“Oh… I almost forgot, Madam “Crystal Ball” said that two American spies are on their way to steal this “stolen” information and he wants me to see if there is anything to this story as well.”
“We’ve been in “black-ops” too long,” the older man said, still holding the Colonel’s confused stare.
“Ever since we did that little “eavesdropping” thing in Iran, the President thinks we are some sort of super humans and can solve any problem with our collection of computers.” He swept his arm around the room, indicating the collection of electronics that was stacked everywhere.
“Now he sends us on some crazy mission that this psychic thinks may be going down in Mexico.”
The colonel sat down with a look of exhaustion from years in the making. “I think they’ve been drinking too much Vodka,” the colonel said.
For several minutes neither man said a word. The silence was suddenly broken when the phone rang again.
Slowly Colonel Zurkoff picked up the receiver. “Hello,” he said, in a tired voice.
As the conversation on the other end of the line unfolded, Colonel Zurkoff suddenly straightened himself, almost like sitting at attention. His eyes narrowed and the color was draining from his face. “We’re on it,” he said, as he hung-up the phone.
“You are not going to believe this,” He said, as his body language told the older man something important was about to happen. “That was Putin himself and he has just received a phone call from the President of Mexico requesting a meeting with our top computer experts to help “unravel”, was the word he used, some sensitive information they have just acquired.”
“Something big is going down. He just told me he was sending two Mig 29’s to Mexico City and that we would have the full support of the Mexican army,” the colonel said, as he stood up stiffly.
“Get our team together and put everyone else on high-alert. We leave 0600 tomorrow morning.” He picked up his hat and walked out of the room.
11
Black Gold was the missions name for the specially modified Learjet that Dr. Merrill was using. Black Gold referred to an oil company that was the cover story as to the reason this plane was going to be in Mexico.
Quantico, Virginia…
It was late Sunday evening when Black Gold lifted off from the military airport the CIA use for covert operations like this one. The highly modified Learjet was climbing to an altitude of 48,000 feet on a heading of 270 degrees. The crew of three was heading for California. Everything seemed normal except for two things. First they were traveling at a little over 680 miles per hour (which is just under the speed of sound) and second, Jim Peterson or better yet, his alter personality was flying the plane but without all the electrical connections and artificial skin that had been used for the programming process. This was going to be another nonstop flight but with a little different twist. SAM was overseeing every aspect of the flight as usual and would give her “subject” the commands to make special maneuvers to test his flying ability, which would terrify the other pilots until they were back on the original flight plan. After the first couple of hours, the flight turned into another routine trip to the West Coast.
Jim executed a perfect landing at John Wayne Airport and once again the private hangar was their destination.
Jim Peterson, driving his Z-300, pulled into his driveway a little after midnight, California time. The “subject” was alone as he walked into his house, un-noticed.
Within minutes SAM had her “subject” remove his clothes and climb into bed. He immediately went into a deep sleep and two minutes later SAM issued a Code-10; returning Jim Peterson back to his original personality. He was officially home.
The alarm clock rang at 6:30 AM on the dot. Jim seemed to be having trouble coming out of his deep sleep as his arm wavered around trying to find the snooze button that would stop the noise. He finally connected and the buzzing stopped.
Jim laid there for a few minutes as his mind began to clear.
That’s strange he thought… I don’t have the alarm programmed to go off on Saturday.
About that same time, the snooze alarm began to buzz again. This time his aim was more accurate.
Jim slowly focused on the alarm clock… he suddenly pulled himself up on his elbow and grabbed the alarm clock with his other hand. This can’t be right; the digital display clearly showed that it was Monday April 19th and it was 6:41 AM.
What happened to Saturday and Sunday? As panic started to set in, Jim forced himself to replay the last events he could remember. He was at the Claim Jumper having a drink with a couple of secretaries. No… it was at Bobby Maggie’s.
In full panic mode, Jim jumped out of bed and ran to the garage. He threw open the door and was filled with a sense of relief. His car was there and looked like it was in perfect condition. He took a deep breath and walked back into the kitchen, poured a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table.
What in the hell was happening?
He remembered having four or five drinks the evening before, but that had never caused him to blackout. As he sat there with his head in his hands he began to think about his father. Years earlier he remembered seeing his father come home after a drinking binge and watch him sleep for a couple of days only to wake up seemingly normal. He would tell his family that he had an “aversion” to a certain type of whiskey. He didn’t think his father was an alcoholic but he had seen this “aversion” happen several time during their lives together. Jim began to think that maybe he was genetically disposed to this same “aversion.”
The reality of his business schedule soon flooded his thoughts. I’ve got appointments this morning. Where is my PDA? A quick trip to the bedroom revealed that it was right where he always left it; on the bed stand with the charger plugged in. A few quick key strokes brought up the calendar, showing his first appointment was at 10:00 AM in Costa Mesa.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee was all he needed to get back in the game. Forty-five minutes later he was dressed, refreshed and ready to sell some insurance. He had plenty of time before his first call so he decided to have some breakfast; he was famished. I guess so… he thought. I haven’t eaten anything for a couple of days. Perko’s was just down the street and he had been there many times for breakfast. Today would be no exception.
Jim had just finished his breakfast and was sitting alone in a booth when he decided to call his first customer and confirm their meeting. He punched a few buttons on his PDA, rearranged his new Bluetooth headset, he was ready to engage in the business world once again.
The phone rang twice when a young cheerful voice answered, “Brassco industries… How can I help you?”
“Hi, this is Jim Peterson with United Ins
urance; I have a meeting with Mr. Siler at 10 o’clock and would like to confirm our meeting,” he said, in a low voice not wanting to annoy any of the other customers in the restaurant.
“One moment please,” she said, in her same cheerful voice.
Moments passed.
“Mr. Peterson, are you there?” the voice was sincere and professional. I wonder what she looks like, thought Jim while he answered with a quick “yes.”
“Mr. Siler had an emergency meeting come up and would like to reschedule another meeting in a couple of weeks.”
“That’s not a problem,” Jim said. “I’ll call him back in a couple of weeks. Thanks for your help.” Jim punched a button on his earpiece and ended the call.
“So much for the 10 o’clock, let’s see who is next on the list,” he muttered to himself.
After a few more phone calls, Jim sat back with a strange look on his face. That’s weird, he thought, all four of my calls for the next two days have asked to reschedule. Is that just a fluke, or am I in for a bad month?
The waitress appeared and asked him if he would like anything else. With one of those – how long are you going to be here looks?
“Tell me what you’ve got,” Jim said, still feeling hungry.
“Well, we’ve got fresh baked coffee cake,” She offered.
“I’ll take it; give me a large piece and a fresh cup of coffee.”
An hour later, Jim found himself driving south on Highway 1 toward Laguna Beach. With no particular destination in mind he decided to head for a beach and enjoy the California weather. Jim couldn’t believe how energetic he felt. It must be the non-stop sleep he had for the past couple of days or the sugar rush from the coffee cake.
It turned out he was the only one on the beach this morning. With all the energy percolating through his body he decided to take off his shoes and run along the water’s edge. After 45 minutes of jogging up and down the beach he felt a little calmer and decided to lie down and take a mid-day nap. Something he had never done before. About 4 hours later he was awakened by the beeping of his PDA. He flipped open the cover and saw a message displayed on the viewing screen
HAIR CUT APPOINTMENT 5:15 PM… press snooze, cancel or accept
Jim had completely forgotten about his hair appointment. Suddenly there was a bright spot in this otherwise boring day. For the past two years Jim had been going to the “Wild Hair” Salon in Corona del Mar to have his hair cut. He was secretly in love with the owner but had never made it known to anyone not even to Debbie Taylor.
Jim jumped up, put on his shoes and headed back to his car. He just had time to go back to his house, take a shower and make it back to the “Wild Hair” in time for his haircut. Jim savored this 20-minute drive to Corona del Mar because it gave him time to fantasize about how his life would be with Debbie.
To put things in perspective, Debbie Taylor was the owner/operator of the beauty salon call the “Wild Hair,” but she had no idea who Jim Peterson was. Although Jim had been going to this salon for over two years, Debbie had never cut his hair and he had never made any kind of impression on her. It was always one of her assistants who took care of him.
SAM had no idea that Jim had this “thing” for the owner of the “Wild Hair”.
Jim had always set his appointment time for 5:15 because it made him the last person in the salon before it closed. This was important because if luck was with him he would get to watch Debbie unpin her hair. She kept it neatly tied up on her head while she was working, and with a shake of her head the long blond hair would cascade down over her narrow shoulders. It was a sight he looked forward to.
Jim turned into the parking lot right on schedule. There were only a few cars in the lot and they would soon be leaving.
Jim was greeted by a pleasant looking girl who introduced herself as Kathy. “I’ll be doing your hair this evening,” there was a pause as she looked down at the schedule register, “Mr. Peterson,” she added with a quick smile.
Jim smiled back and nodded his acceptance. He then took a quick look down the row of barber chairs. It was his lucky day… there she was, at her usual station toward the back of the salon.
“Are you ready?” Kathy said, interrupting his train of thought, as she motioned to the empty chair just two seats down from Debbie.
His heart skipped a beat as he walked toward her.
Quantico, Virginia…
“What was that?” The technician straightened in his chair as his eyes caught the subtle change in the subject’s vital signs.
“This guy’s been on the verge of going to sleep all day and now we get a spike when he gets his hair cut.”
SAM broke in; “This may be a natural reaction from being around people. You realize his conscious mind has not had any human contact for almost three days. I’ll watch it to see if it happens again.” SAM went silent. The technician leaned back in his chair returning to a relaxed position as he scanned the displays on the wall in front of him.
Corona Del Mar, California…
Jim settled in for the relaxing experience he always felt when getting his hair cut. He almost drifted asleep while Kathy washed; cut and blow dried his hair. The last step in this process was to lean the chair back and place a hot, eucalyptus scented towel over his face, positioned just right leaving a small breathing hole over his nose. This was the “Wild Hairs” signature procedure and lasted a full 5 minutes.
Quantico, Virginia…
Clang, Clang, Clang…
The sound of the Claxton, blaring the alarm, brought everyone in the laboratory to a full alert; it even seemed to catch SAM off guard.
“What the Hell is going on?” shouted Ed, as he jumped up from his desk and ran full speed to the main monitor display area. The technician on duty was standing helplessly in front of his computer console. “I don’t know what happened. We were running some diagnostics when somehow one of the programs engaged Code-5 and it set off the alarm.”
“Well, turn off Code-5 immediately,” yelled Don, who was only a few steps behind Dr. Merrill.
“Wait a minute!” Shouted Ed. “SAM, give me a quick update of what is going on.”
SAM responded immediately. “The subject is in the final stages of getting his hair cut. He is currently in a reclined position with a steamed towel over his face in what this service calls the “relaxed mode.” I was running diagnostics as a normal routine when a software glitch must have invoked Code-5 accidentally. I’ve disengaged the alarm, what would you like me to do?”
“Thank God he’s not in the middle of some interaction with these people,” Don pointed out. “Take him out of Code-5 immediately,” he insisted.
“Wait a minute.” Dr. Merrill interjected with a harsher tone. “This may be an opportunity to see if our boy has learned how to seduce a woman. That’s one test we haven’t been able to complete. Give me a quick background on the girl giving him the haircut,” he said in a rushed voice.
“You have got to be kidding,” Don said, clearly exasperated.
SAM responded immediately. “The girl’s name is Kathy Kline, she is 25 years old, single and living with a female roommate.”
“That’s all I need to know,” said Dr. Merrill. “Get all the background on her and everyone that works there. This is an opportunity we can’t pass up.”
Don shook his head. “I don’t believe this,” it was all he said.
Corona Del Mar, California…
Kathy was talking quietly on her cell phone and suddenly hung up. She moved quickly to Debbie’s station and whispered in her ear. “My roommate just called… her mother has been in a car accident. I’m going to meet her at the hospital. Can you finish my customer; he has about two more minutes under the steam cloth.”
Her voice was so urgent that Debbie quickly shook her head. “I’ll take it from here.”
Kathy quickly took off her apron, grabbed her purse and was out the door without another word.
Debbie had finished with her last customer
a few minutes earlier and was just starting to clean up her station. The other girls were starting to leave for the evening and waving their good-byes. She looked down at Kathy’s customer and realized she didn’t even know his name. It really didn’t matter, she would take off the steamed cloth, do her Miss nice thing and she would be off for her evening.
Quantico, Virginia…
“What’s going on?” Don said, with the feeling this part of the project might be doomed.
SAM answered immediately. “Kathy is leaving on some sort of emergency and has handed our subject off to the owner of this salon.”
“Give me the background on this other person and make it quick,” Dr. Merrill said, feeling the stress of the situation intensify.
SAM responded almost before Dr. Merrill finished the request. “Her name is Debbie Taylor, she is 28 years old. She is single but has lived with a male partner for almost 5 years. She graduated from Chico State University in California six years ago and started the “Wild Hair” beauty salon five years ago. Her parents live in Riverside…”
Ed cut her off by saying, “This male partner, where is he right now?”
Without hesitation, SAM replied. “His name is Mike Sanders and he is on a business trip in Seattle, Washington for the next three days.”
“Five years,” was all Ed said, then quickly added, “Leave Code-5 active and move the target to Miss Debbie Taylor. You’ve got less than 30 seconds to prep our boy. Let’s get with it.”