The Wreck Emerged

by Joseph Webers

  She reflected on her last two weeks. The visit was fun, as she had anticipated, but disappointing in a way. There had been a growing dissatisfaction with the direction her life was taking. The hope that this trip might point her in a new direction was slowly dwindling. She had no problem with her job; her students were the age that represented the happiest times of her life. It was all the other little things that were not providing the fulfillment, or even the promise of fulfillment, that she had been expecting.

  In spite of the difficulties surrounding her birth, Jenny was her one and only bright spot, and she loved her with all that was within her. She recognized that much of the disappointment had been self-inflicted, and was starting to realize she had no idea how to find a way out.

  She looked back down at her little girl as if to force herself back to reality. Their eyes locked on to each other’s, and a contentment beyond words enveloped them: a delicate little face so reliant on the tender face above. All four eyes closed together; one pair of eyes to sleep and dream, probably of milk, the other pair to shut out the world and wonder.

  8

  Up in the air, checklists finally completed, Joel checked his email. The encrypted email from his friend was scarce of details, but promised more news as available. Joel read between the lines. “Chuck?” He was somewhat hesitant to draw the obvious conclusion. “We may have a problem. JC, my Chicago bud, is saying there is more to look into concerning the missing passengers.”

  Captain Charles M. Merkel, USAF, retired bomber pilot, was immediately and momentarily back in the F-18 Hornet he flew until the day he retired. Then he realized he had no afterburners, no flares, no chaff, no speed, and no hope of outrunning any Russian military interceptor. “What does that mean, Joel?” A moment later, “Does that mean we should fly below the radar? You can’t chase what you can’t see.”

  “Whoa! All he said was there was more to check on.” A quick scan of the instruments indicated unmitigated normalcy. “He’s pretty quick, at least he used to be, but I imagine we’ll be on the ground before I hear back from him. He did mention it was actually eight separate glitches.”

  First Officer Joel Barth had no idea how quickly he would hear back from his old friend.

  9

  JC Smalley heard the phone ring twice, then pick up. “Henry,” said the voice at the other end.

  “Phil, this is JC Smalley. Do you have a few minutes?”

  Phillip Henry worked in an office within the FBI which monitored domestic issues. Because of budget constraints, the department was always understaffed, and the pace was hectic. Everyone in his office had more than they could handle. At his level, Phil worked on the cases which had the farthest-reaching implications. “We’re really busy. Are you freelancing?”

  “No. Well, almost no.”

  “Okay. You have three minutes to get me interested. We’re working a few really hot issues, but I know you wouldn’t have called on this secure line if it weren’t urgent.”

  “Thanks, Phil.” It took JC ninety seconds to brief Joel’s email and the findings in the Air World data system. “The odd thing, and the reason I called, is there was someone else nosing around in the database. He had a foreign IP address, as far as I can tell.”

  “It might have been spoofed. Read it to me.”

  JC heard some papers shuffling on the other end. “Okay. 191.”

  “191.”

  “6.”

  “Hold on. Is the next one 118?”

  This took JC completely by surprise. “Yes! How did you—”

  “I need you to come see me. Pronto. Bring what you have. You’ve just become hot.” Phil conversed briefly with someone on his end. “Wait. You have a plane in the air. I’ll have my driver pick you up. Plan for about a week. Afterwards we’ll go hunting at my cottage behind the Outer Banks.”

  “Roger.”

  “Be downstairs in about fifteen minutes. And give Nicki a hug for me.” Click.

  JC took a moment to decipher the codes. Fishing would have meant pure office work—research and analysis. Hunting meant there was fieldwork involved, possibly armed. It also meant being deputized, sworn in, with hold-harmless and other forms to fill out and sign. He was used to all those. A hug instead of a kiss good-bye meant in Phil’s opinion, it would not be terribly dangerous. Fifteen minutes meant fifteen minutes, so he’d better get busy.

  10

  JC Smalley still hadn’t figured out “hot” when he reached the foyer of his apartment building. He had packed a duffel bag and a small suitcase with what he considered would last indefinitely if he had access to a laundry. Included was a pair of holsters JC had grown particularly fond of. If this trip involved packing, he didn’t want the government-issued holsters that were always stiff, ill-fitting, and obvious.

  As he exited the elevator, a young man he had never seen before approached him. “Mr. Smalley, I’m Luke. Please come with me. You keep your briefcase and I’ll take the other luggage.”

  JC eyed him with suspicion. There were plenty of others in the foyer just then. “Luke, how do you know who I am, and why should I go with you?”

  Luke grinned at him. “One, you look just like your picture. And two, Phil said to ask if you hugged Nicki. Shall we go?”

  “Lead the way!”

  “The way” led to a compact American-made car double-parked in front of the apartment. Luke put the luggage in the back seat. “Ready?”

  “I know a shortcut to the airport if that would help.”

  “Sure.” Luke handed him a large soft-pack envelope coated with a metallic film. The writing on the front told him to put his phone, laptop, and other electronic devices in the envelope and fold the flap over. When he had complied, Luke had him put the envelope in his briefcase.

  “We’re not going to the airport,” JC said. It was more a statement than a question.

  Luke pointed to a small device plugged into the cigarette lighter. There was a green light in the corner. JC had noticed the device when he got in the car, and the light was red then.

  “We’re secure now. When your devices get vetted, they’ll be added to the list on board this scanner. No, we’re not going to the airport. Chicago will be your home for a little while longer. We have a stop to make before we get there. It won’t be long. I don’t have any more I can tell you. I’m just an escort.”

  After another block, they came to a parking garage for city visitors going to the shopping district. The lighted sign said the garage was completely full. Luke pulled in anyway, and when they got to the sixth floor, a car was just backing out of a space. Luke pulled into it.

  “Grab your briefcase and the scanner, and I’ll get the other stuff.” Luke got out, fished around in his pocket for keys, and opened the doors of the car in the parking space next to them. The transfer was made in about twenty seconds, and as they drove away, JC saw Luke give a brief nod to a man lounging near the elevator. JC checked his watch; it was less than ninety minutes since he had gotten the email from his friend Joel Barth.

  11

  Luke drove for about fifteen minutes before pulling into the entry drive of a modest-looking office building. “Go meet Penny,” he said. “I’ll bring your stuff.”

  A tall, athletic-looking woman with dishwater blonde hair, appearing to be in her mid-thirties, was just emerging from the elevator. “I’m Penny. Please come with me.”

  As they shook hands, JC glanced at her badge. Penelope Hasid. Her picture. And a logo he couldn’t identify. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He should have, he thought, he was usually better than that.

  She noticed his glance. “Don’t try to figure out the logo. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  She was carrying a clipboard with various forms and papers, which she gave him on their way to the ninth floor. “Once we get there, you’ll have about five minutes to sign these before the meeting starts. Phil is already there.”

  Surprised, he was about to say something, but then it o
ccurred to him this would be a video teleconference of some sort, a VTC. Then he remembered the voice.

  “Penelope.”

  “Nobody calls me that!”

  “Is that because your name is Wanda?”

  “I was wondering if you’d recognize me. I’ve lost forty-five pounds and changed my hair color back. It’s been what, eight years?”

  “At least. You look good. You know, I heard your real voice only once back then, and after that it was strictly by phone.”

  “You were so helpful to me. I owe you. You talked them into giving me a shot, and so I volunteered to do this. Anyway, please call me Penny while you’re here, and here we are.”

  JC glanced over the papers, standard issue he had seen several times before, while working for Phil. One caught his eye; a permit to carry several different government-issue side arms. “Nice!”

  He quickly signed them all. He gave them back to Penny along with the envelope containing his electronics.

  “We still have about two minutes, so let me fill you in on something that may put your mind at ease. I’m in training to be an agent! After the first phase, we came here. I guess we impressed them that we would make it, so they gave us new names, which we would use as agents. There are three of us. You met Lucas. There is also Harper. We’d been here about a week when all this started. The training has temporarily stopped and we’ve turned into assistants. So it’s still sort of training. We’re not clerical though. When we found out you were coming, we were told you would need help, and I volunteered. We all have other tasks, too.”

  “This? What is ‘this’, how long has ‘this’ been going on, and how long have you known I was coming? I still don’t really know why I’m here.”

  “Oh? We were told you were already somewhat deeply involved, you know, with the airplane, but that everything else would be new to you. ‘This’ has been going on for a little over a week, and we’ve known you’d be here for about forty-five minutes. We found out when Luke got orders to go pick you up.”

  They were at the conference room door. “Here we are,” she said. “I’ll be with you for a few minutes to help get you situated. Press the On button on the headset and that will alert Phil, who will be at the other end, that you’re here.”

  She opened the door and they went in. As he entered, JC couldn’t tell which was stronger in him, the sense of excitement and expectancy, or the sense of doom.

  12

  What was she doing, going from business class to economy, to visit a man she had never met, who was old enough to be her father? This wasn’t like her. Ever since she was twelve, it had been her habit to shy away from the opposite sex. Relationships with men were difficult, and she avoided them when possible. The bundle on her lap showed that there had been at least one, however.

  She couldn’t justify it in her mind, but right then she wasn’t listening to her mind so much. She looked for an excuse; he had smiled at Jenny, and that was good enough. “I have to walk the baby,” she told the flight attendant who wanted to know if anything was wrong. In other words, why are you leaving your assigned area?

  In 21D, he had turned to the crossword puzzle and tried to focus. A fishing net, nine letters. Nothing came to mind; maybe some of the down words would help. He drew a blank on the first six. The seventh, four letters, cake decorator. He printed in I-C-E-R, then tried to fit the I into the fishing net. Frustrated, he had put the magazine back into the seat pocket and was facing forward with a thousand-meter stare when he saw a wiggling in the curtains separating them from the rich folks. He hoped it was Adela to update him on anything in particular; maybe she would know the fishing net.

  The curtains parted and it was not Adela; it was the young woman in 4A. The memory of her delighted him in a way he didn’t quite understand. The baby perhaps. Maybe how her eyes had reminded him of his daughter’s, pensive but not brooding. Most likely that she had been in the dream.

  She paused and looked around. She continued to look around as she slowly made her way down the narrow aisle, as if searching for a particular familiar face. She got to row seventeen before she saw him. After that, she never took her eyes off him, smiling shyly, with a little uncertainty, slowing down and finally stopping even with row twenty.

  “Hullo, I’m Maggie.”

  Her thick British accent surprised him. He was expecting she would be from California or Ohio. She was also a little shorter than he anticipated; again, perhaps because of Rachel, who was five foot seven.

  She waited, putting on her most darling face. Well, this is rather forward, he thought, but how else was this supposed to happen? Smiling, he moved back over to 21E and welcomed her to his aisle seat. “Hi. I’m Matt.”

  If she had been expecting anything but a Midwestern accent, she would have been disappointed. When she stopped twisting around and they both had buckled their seat belts, he asked, “Who have we here?”

  The pink blanket was still. Maggie had been holding it close to her chest, but lowered it to her lap. She opened up the blanket to reveal a plump face with a pudgy little nose and wispy light-brown hair held in place by tiny barrettes. “This is Jenny,” she said, beaming. “She’s a few days more than three months old.”

  “She’s beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely gorgeous! So perfectly formed. Aren’t babies wonderful? I remember mine.” He swallowed hard at the memory, his throat suddenly tight.

  13

  It was rather small for a conference room, JC thought, as he made his way to the table that was obviously for him. He could see the door through which they entered with the EXIT sign above. Straight ahead, the opposite wall had an array of forty-six-inch monitors, four wide by three high. Eight of the twelve were lit up; people were sitting at tables similar to his.

  The other four monitors were on, he could tell, by the zoom and volume control icons in the lower left corners. There was an additional monitor, a huge one, off to the side, which also appeared to be on, but the screen was blank. In front of him were two notepads and a pen, a microphone with the mute button lit, a blue mouse, a red mouse, a phone, and the headset Penny had mentioned. All were plugged into a control box. He donned the headset and pressed the On button on the control box.

  In about five seconds, Phil came on the line. “Good morning, JC, and welcome back on the government payroll. I imagine you’re still pretty much in the dark about this, because Penny just hasn’t had time to brief you properly. You were right about Penny, by the way, more than you could have known. She catches on quick, fits in well, is perfectly loyal, and has the right background.

  “You’re here for two reasons. First, you will be our go-between with the flight Joel Barth is on. The field office there in Chicago is finding the secure radio for that. There may be trouble or not—their flight should be landing in about six hours. Hopefully, all will be well.

  “The second reason is the same reason all the other folks are on this VTC, which is to look into a chemical warfare agent threat with ties to the same IP address you started to give me on the phone. This meeting will last about an hour, after which Penny will give you as complete a briefing as she can, and introduce you around the office. The meeting will reconvene throughout the day as needed, as tasks are completed and more information or questions arise.

  “The headset connects only to me. The mic in front connects you to the meeting. I will now break into the meeting and introduce you. Use the blue mouse to adjust all their volumes. As soon as you unmute, your camera will be on.”

  Penny was still there. “Who are all these people?” JC asked. “Can you get me their pictures and a large-font label with their names, offices, and what they do?”

  “Sure. We anticipated that, so we have some of them, but the folks keep changing. I’ll try to get the principals, though.”

  When JC pressed the unmute button, the light went out, and one of the dark monitors lit up with his picture at the table. He noticed interruptions in the other eight monitors as they realized there was a new
face in the meeting. JC noticed them all turning toward the newly lit monitor at their locations. He waggled the blue mouse, and found it controlled all twelve monitors. When he unmuted all the different locations, a green monitor border would indicate who was speaking.

  A quick look around revealed the meeting was made up of mostly civilians, but JC noticed a US Navy uniform in one of the monitors. He took a closer look. An Italian-looking man with thinning dark hair had a chestful of medals and was wearing the rank of a navy captain.

  Phil waited for a break in the conversations. “Excuse me, everyone. I’d like to introduce a new team member. Mr. JC Smalley works for me out of the Chicago office at present. He may be moving around as needs be.”

  JC hadn’t recognized Phil in any of the monitors; he hadn’t seen him since he started growing his beard. He quickly drew a map of the monitors on the pad, and started filling in names.

  Phil went on, “JC has joined us because he was investigating some abnormalities in Air World Airlines flight 94 from Chicago to London, which took off at 9:15 this morning. In checking the Air World flight database, he discovered someone hacked into it earlier from a location in Macapá, Brazil, using the IP address we are already familiar with. It may be a spoof, but JC will be in constant contact with the flight until it lands at LHR. He will be in a separate VTC room from the Chicago office, because if something happens with the flight, we will immediately stop the internal chatter to focus on what is happening in the air.”

  Phil paused a moment to let everyone focus on the newcomer.

  “Now then, JC, the rest of the task force. Say Hi as I introduce you, so JC will see who you are. Titus ‘Ty’ Harris, State Department, representing their Bureau of Counterterrorism and Countering Violent Extremism. Did I get that right?”