First Thrill

by Steve Richer

  Bradford Harker was dead.

  Without thinking twice, Chasey ran forward and took Jeff in her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now. So that’s all it took for you to show me some lovin’ tonight, you should’ve said so.”

  She chuckled between tears. Yes, she should have definitely said so.

  AUGUST 13

  TUESDAY

  Chapter 49

  Jeff found a phone in the MP’s car and called Bellamy at his home. He instructed him to find the assassin’s car – his name was Harker – and leave before the police came. Jeff was assured that CSE people would take care of everything, retrieving the body and covering of the events.

  That’s how he understood it anyway. Maybe it would only be a matter of Bellamy explaining to the cops that whatever had happened was related to national security, and that would be that.

  For security measures, Jeff and Chasey were encouraged to find a hotel on their own. They rented two rooms at the Ramada Plaza Hotel, just across the street from the Casino, in Hull. They agreed to stay in the same room, keeping the other one for conducting business.

  They slept only three hours though. The rest of the night was spent with her in his arms. They both cried and they both thanked each other. In the morning, Jeff called Bellamy to let him know where they were staying. At 9am, Bellamy showed up at the other room/office. There was another man barely into his forties with him. Chasey remained in the room she had slept in.

  “Jeff, this is Rufus Spellman. He’s the CEO of Polar Tiger Industries. He just flew in, took the redeye.”

  Riley shook his hand but he was wary of new faces. There was a reason he was taking these security measures. “Hi.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  The guests sat on the sofa while Jeff dragged the lounger over.

  “I didn’t expect this to be an all-out conference.”

  Bellamy cleared his throat. “I did some checking, called Mr. Spellman.”

  “Let me get right to the point. Your assumption was correct. Two weeks ago, a team of five individuals stormed our research laboratories in Calgary. Paralyzing serums were used on the guards, nobody was hurt. They cracked our security locks and managed to drill through our main vault.”

  “What did they steal?” Jeff asked without preamble. He wasn’t for beating around the bush anymore.

  “As you probably know, we’ve been working on the courage to miniaturize a computer motherboard. It would essentially include everything that a great multimedia PC would need: microprocessor, sound card, RAM, a video card. Our hook was that it would be the smallest in the world. All of this in a microprocessor.”

  “Pocket PCs already use similar technology, don’t they?”

  Spellman glanced at Bellamy, it was as if he was asking permission to continue.

  “What was our goal mainly, the reason the government was subsidizing us so significantly, was that we found military applications. We stopped focusing on commercial angles and looked beyond. After all, the Japanese, the Koreans, they’re already working on small personal computers.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “Imagine having a computer-assisted scope, a range finder on a common pistol, a small screen that would indicate if you’re aiming at a vital organ, we found a way to do it. Imagine microprocessors that have the potential to be implemented in a kind of ordnance which could actually lead to GPS guided bullets. Imagine a smaller version of the US Army Heckler & Koch XM-29 OICW prototype, one that works perfectly.”

  “Wow,” Jeff whispered, finally understanding how important this was.

  This was a new age in weaponry. This was like going from the common rock to the crossbow. This was going from the musket to the machine gun. It would change the face of modern warfare forever. Whoever had this technology would be unstoppable.

  Bellamy noticed the young man coming to grips with this. He said, “And they stole it.”

  “Yes,” Spellman agreed. “They stole our working prototype and the CDs on which we back up the core of the research data. We were already signing deals with a number of weapons manufacturers. In ten years’ time, all NATO countries would have been equipped with this technology.”

  “So now you won’t be getting your percentage.”

  “It’s not just about money,” Bellamy chimed in. “Imagine North Korea or China getting their hands on this technology. One, they’d be willing to pay a hefty sum for it. And two, think of their tactical advantage should they get this prototype.”

  “It happened two weeks ago,” the CEO added. “Maybe it’s already too late. We hired a security firm to track them and retrieve our property. It was established that they were driving, not flying. They caught up with them in a little town in North Carolina. The four-man unit decided to move in. None of them survived although we understand they got one of theirs. That’s all I know.”

  “So it’s become a matter of national security now,” Bellamy continued. “I want you to recover the device and its related documentation.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Because you know more about this case than anyone else at CSE.”

  “But I’m not trained for that. You know my theory, you know what I think about this whole situation. Why don’t you send a JTF2 team?”

  Jeff was calmer than he had been the last time Bellamy had sent him on a mission. And yet, that didn’t mean that he felt he was the best man to go on this assignment.

  “It’s a CSE matter. Besides, I don’t want to alert the whole world about this.”

  Jeff stood up and nodded. It wasn’t surveillance work anymore. It was walking into the dragon’s lair when the dragon wasn’t even sleeping. Bellamy and Spellman rose to their feet and headed for the door.

  “Could you wait for me in the lobby, Rufus?” Bellamy asked.

  The man nodded and excused himself.

  “What is it?” Jeff enquired.

  “Did you get a chance to watch the news?”

  “Between downtown chases and battling contract killers, my free time has been rather limited lately.”

  “The French government went on with their nuclear testing last week. Then, last night all NATO governments received a letter from the Front Environnemental Européen. They’re not making any demands. They say they will retaliate against one of France’s allies. They say it will happen this week.”

  “You think they might come against me or one of the other hostages?”

  “No, it’s very unlikely. I just thought you should know. French intelligence is all over them. My guess is they’ll be arrested before they can do anything. But still, you be careful. I’ll be back after lunch to work on the prototype plan with you.”

  Great, something else I have to worry about, Jeff thought. His life had turned from cubicle boredom to cloak-and-dagger hell. He still wondered which one was more hazardous to his health.

  Chapter 50

  Lunch consisted of a couple of roast beef sandwiches ordered from the steakhouse on the ground floor. The food had been delivered to the business room and Jeff had brought it back to the bedroom. The sandwiches were gone in record time and they were both now nibbling on their fries.

  “You know, I was scared last night,” she said. “When you were fighting that guy, I was really frightened.”

  “Yeah, scared me too.”

  “No, I mean I was afraid he would hurt you. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to talk to you again, to be with you.”

  “I know, that’s what scared me too.”

  He wasn’t sure it was a moment that called for a kiss – after all, she had only admitted to caring about him – his mother would have said the same thing. But he was getting a good vibe. He reached forward and put his hand over hers. She smiled and put her other hand on top of his. The telephone rang.

  Bellamy was coming up and Jeff went over to meet him at the business room. Chasey insisted on coming and he didn’t try to dissuade her. She had been through too much to be rebuked to the s
idelines. Noticing her, Bellamy must have thought the same thing as Jeff because he didn’t say a word. Then he turned to his protégé.

  “You guarantee she won’t write a word?”

  Jeff glanced at Chasey.

  “I won’t write anything until the whole thing is solved,” she said. “I won’t mention anyone by name or your particular agency.”

  Bellamy shrugged and took a seat on the couch. He pulled out a pad and a pen from his briefcase.

  “The plan is simple: we find the prototype, we get proof that it is indeed there, and we take it back.”

  “We meaning Jeff, of course?” Jeff inquired, smirking.

  “Of course.”

  “Hingle is the leader of this operation, the prototype has to be in his possession.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. But where? Is it in his house, in a bank safety deposit box, airport locker?”

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “Draws pension checks. He’s also in the books for some security consulting. Works out of his home.”

  “That’s where it is then. He’ll want to keep this precious thing as close to him as possible.”

  “Okay, I can go with that.” Bellamy pulled blueprints out of his briefcase. “He lives in a new development in Kanata. I found the promoter and asked for the blueprints.”

  Jeff helped him unfold it across the table.

  “Three bedrooms. He’s not married, right? So, it’s conceivable that one of the bedrooms is his office. Do we know what kind of security system he has?”

  “He’s got a subscription with ADT. I drove by this morning to inspect the locks real quick, from a distance. Everything looks standard. It’s really important that you get proof that Hingle has it. If there is to be a trial, or if the Commissioner audits us, whatever, I want proof to back it up. CSIS isn’t doing any surveillance. They said they didn’t have enough proof. You’re all alone on this one.”

  “You sure? You haven’t told anyone I’m doing this, have you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “There’s a reason they knew where Chasey and I were staying. There’s somebody at CSE whose cashing checks with Hingle Inc. printed on them.”

  “Maybe Hingle remembered the locations of our safe houses.”

  “I hope that’s it, but I doubt it. I think it would be time for one of those security screenings.”

  Bellamy nodded and stood up. He grabbed his briefcase and walked to the door. Chasey did not budge but Jeff followed him.

  The older man kept his voice low. “You be really careful, all right? I rented you a car for this operation, it’s the black Explorer parked out front. You’ll find some tools in the back.” He pulled out a set of keys from his hip pocket. “And there’s something else I want you to have.”

  He lifted his briefcase into his arms and dipped a hand inside. What he retrieved chilled Jeff to the bone. It was a pistol, a .357 caliber Glock 33.

  “I don’t want that.”

  Killing Harker the night before had not traumatized him like he had thought it would, but he didn’t plan on making it a lifestyle.

  “Take it, it’s an order. I don’t want you being a sitting duck like you were last night. It may save your life.”

  Once Jeff had reluctantly taken it, Bellamy’s hand went back into the briefcase and came out with an extra magazine.

  “Let me know if you run out of bullets.”

  Morales was back in Raleigh since he now had the money. There was nothing that could stop him anymore.

  The sky was cloudy and he prayed it wouldn’t rain. He was in the middle of the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Gardens, by the life size statue, and the only place he would be able to hide would be underneath one of those numerous trees.

  Aaron Chapman showed up ten minutes later, looking as weird ever. He had discovered that looking weird served him fittingly. People tended to consider those whose appearance was outside the norm to be rebels. And rebels were often feared. Fear commanded respect and his business was all about respect.

  He had begun ten years ago when he had been working as an administrative assistant at a huge architect firm in Manhattan. It was easy to have access to blueprints and even easier to sell them. The New York mafia had been a great client back then.

  Downsizing had found him without a job, but using the emerging Internet he was able to contact others in the business. Soon, he had set up a whole network and it covered the entire architectural world. There wasn’t a plan he couldn’t have access to, except for concept cars. Automobile giants kept their secret designs in more secure vaults than most banks.

  “You have my coins now?”

  The man had sneaked up behind Morales and the banker tried to appear as if he hadn’t been frightened at all.

  “Yes, I do. They are in the form of bearer bonds, in my jacket pocket.”

  “That’s all you gotta say, man. I’m gonna go say hello to my buddy Luther. Have the coins ready when I come back.”

  Morales pulled out his envelope as the hippie went over to the statue. Chapman stayed near the bronze long enough to dig in a pocket under his dashiki shirt. When he returned, he inconspicuously handed a CD with his left hand while he took hold of a folded envelope with his right. He kept on walking.

  Morales would have felt more comfortable being able to verify the content of the disk, but it went both ways as Chapman hadn’t authenticated the bonds. It didn’t matter, he had what he wanted.

  Chapter 51

  The Explorer was parked in a driveway on Hingle’s street. Discreetly, Jeff had knocked on the door of the house he was parked at and flashed his RCMP badge. He had gotten permission to use their driveway to conduct his surveillance operation.

  The truck was pointing the wrong way, but Jeff was using the rear tinted windows as a cover. He was sitting sideways in the last row of seats.

  The two-story brick house was less than five years old. The landscaping was basic and uncared for. It was a new real estate development, but Hingle’s home looked the oldest. It always surprised Jeff that people who didn’t like doing maintenance still bought houses. He hated mowing the lawn and trimming the hedges, but at least he recognized it and lived in an apartment.

  The garage door opened at four o’clock, Jeff observed through his binoculars as Hingle drove away. He thought about running in before the door closed, but figured he wouldn’t have enough time.

  When Hingle was out of sight, Jeff grabbed his toolbox and jogged to the house. Going in from the backdoor was the most attractive option, but the possibility of motion sensors in the backyard turned Jeff off. Besides, it was a weekday and there would be very few people to detect him breaking in.

  He selected the Cobra toothbrush-like device from the case and switched the pick. It was a high security deadbolt and required a group two pick. He fired up the instrument and twenty seconds later the door clicked open.

  He put away his tool and prepared to go in, but the door still offered resistance. It opened slightly, but wouldn’t go any further. The chain had been put on. It was something for which he hadn’t been trained.

  He took the Cobra again for the only reason that it was longer than a pencil. He inserted the tip through one of the links and began pushing. He didn’t have a great deal of maneuverability and had to work with only two fingers. As he was almost ready to pop the chain out of its socket, the Cobra slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. The door began closing.

  “Shit!”

  He was afraid it was the kind of bolt that locked itself every time it was closed and quickly used his foot to keep the door from shutting completely. He bent down and succeeded in retrieving his device which had fortunately not fallen too far.

  He went to work again and on his third attempt managed to remove the security chain. He slipped inside.

  His heartbeat accelerating, Jeff was playing with fire now. He had one minute to disarm the alarm system before it went off.

  He found the panel to h
is right. He took an electric screwdriver and swiftly removed the screws. He had read the pamphlet back in the Explorer and it was still fresh in his mind.

  What he wanted to do was to cut the wire linked to the phone line that would transmit the breakin to the company’s central monitoring office. He found the green cord and severed it using a pair of long nose pliers.

  He put the panel back together and saw on the liquid crystal screen that the alarm had gone off, but had not been transmitted out. He pressed the Clear command.

  Jeff glanced at the sole of his shoes and was satisfied that they were clean. Wanting to be methodical, he went to the living room. He went through the sideboard, moved the bottles, but found nothing.

  He got down on his knees and looked under the furniture. The gun down the back of his pants almost fell out twice. The kitchen was more complicated since it had more storage space. He pulled open all the drawers and rummaged through the cupboards, making sure he didn’t leave a mess.

  He climbed the steps two by two and found the guest bedroom. There was no fancy decoration or furnishing, just a plain bedspread in a white room. It didn’t take long to search it. The master bedroom fared a little better on the senses, but did not contain the prototype. Jeff even tapped the walls inside the closet for hidden compartments.

  Jesus, where was it?

  The last room he visited was the office. It was the most attractive room in the house. It was designed for comfort, with a five-hundred-dollar swivel chair and halogen lighting. There weren’t any paintings on the wall to conceal a safe, but there was a bulletin board. There was nothing behind it though.

  The things he was looking for were so small they could be hidden anywhere. He couldn’t find them in this room.

  Once he had gone through the garage and basement, he figured it might be in the CD collection. He returned to the living room and his face flushed when he saw that Hingle was still listening to cassette tapes.

  There was one last thing to do. He pulled out a plastic bag from his toolbox containing a dozen miniature cameras the size of disposable lighters. He hid them throughout the house, making sure to have every room covered. He didn’t need to plant a transmitter as he would be monitoring the feed from his truck down the street.