“Okay, I’ll check into it. How do you propose to get proof?”
Norm took a chip and tried the queso, giving Kyle a little nod of approval.
“Someone on my team, former team I should say, has been working on it. I’m certain he’ll continue, even if they order him not to.”
“So, who do you think is heading up the national card effort?” Norm asked.
“You guys,” Kyle answered.
Norm chuckled. “What?”
“The federal government,” Kyle clarified. “The article mentioned the Department of Transportation and some other safety division, but I’m leaning more toward the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or perhaps some joint collaboration among the three. Besides, look at the faded seal on the back.”
Norm inspected it more closely. “I can’t tell for sure, but it looks like the FBI seal.”
“It does, doesn’t it,” Kyle said smartly.
“In league to steal money from private and corporate citizens? It sounds pretty thin.”
“Maybe,” Kyle said. “But what better way to introduce a card people are opposed to? Think about it. You see the address on the back of that card?”
Norm took another look while grabbing a queso chip. “Knoxville, Tennessee.”
“Do you know of any government agencies in Knoxville, especially related to the Bureau?”
Norm shook his head.
“You can bet a national ID Card is not a private enterprise, so it has to be government, and based on the seal, it’s gotta be the Bureau.”
“Something else for me to look into, I suppose,” Norm said.
“Here’s another tidbit I stumbled upon. If three out of a hundred bank accounts fail, it puts the entire fractional banking system at risk. What if a conglomeration of government agencies created a task force to ensure the economy becomes unstable after January first and throws the blame on the HSI effort? People would panic, naturally. They’d cry out for someone to do something. If this agency in Knoxville has a card for every American, which is just a guess, they can mail them out in a day and work with banks to transfer balances directly onto the smart cards while the banks retain their customer base. We become a cashless society almost overnight. It wouldn't take long for a national ID card to become global. Maybe not money on the card itself, but maybe a world bank that it’s tied too.”
“They’d have to have a pretty compelling reason to take such a risk.”
“Power has always been a good reason,” Kyle said.
“I don’t know,” Norm said with a sigh. “Your theory is based on a lot of speculation. Lots of conspiracy thinking.” Norm paused, then added, “have you told anyone else what you just told me?”
“No, not really. I was afraid they’d laugh at me.”
Norm grinned. “And you thought I wouldn’t?”
“Look at the evidence.”
“It’s pretty circumstantial if you ask me,” Norm said. “I can buy the fact that a group of individuals has breached your security in order to steal money, but the rest is pure speculation.”
“What about the ID card?” Kyle asked, running his fingers through his hair.
“It could be a prototype, or maybe a hoax. This is a copy of a card. Someone could have easily used a paint program and created this out of thin air.”
“With an address on the back and a name of a woman on the face?” Kyle said.
“Well, it should be easy enough to verify.”
Kyle managed a smile. “Thanks. So, you’re saying you will look into everything we discussed?”
“Before I commit to doing so, I want a few things from you in return.”
“And that would be?”
Norm looked over Kyle’s head to gauge whether his men were out of earshot, then leaned in closer. “I’m concerned by the fact someone abducted you in broad daylight, even with one of my agents tailing you. Coupled with the fact that they know your prior identity, it puts you in danger.”
“Tell me about it,” Kyle said, sounding flippant but not intending to.
“I’m going to give you two options, and you must choose one if you want me to help you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I either put you in protective custody right here and now, or you let me assign an agent to you. I don’t mean to watch you, but actually stay by your side, day and night. The agent will also be a liaison, of sorts, to me.”
“Those are my two choices?” Kyle asked. Neither appealed to him, but he was willing to cooperate regardless.
“That’s it.”
“As long as the agent isn’t Rudy Kain, I’ll take the agent.”
“Actually, it’s not one of mine. It’s someone else flying into town this evening. I had a feeling you would take option two.”
This caught Kyle’s attention. “Why not one of your own?”
Norm didn’t say a word, just stared at Kyle, a long and heavy silence passing between them. A smile started to form across Kyle’s face, then he finally said, “so you suspect someone in your own department.”
“Let’s just say I’m playing it safe.”
“And how do you know you can trust this other agent?”
“Because,” Norm said, grabbing the last chip and soaking it in salsa, “I trained her.”
“Her?” Kyle asked.
“Don’t worry,” Norm said, “she won’t bite. At least I think she won’t. I’ll need to contact you this evening.”
“Can you give me another business card?” Kyle asked, holding out his hand.
Norm pulled a small card from his coat pocket, and slid it across the table. Kyle took out his pen, scribbled something on the front, and handed it back to Norm. “That’s my pager number. Have her call me when she gets in and I’ll tell her where we can meet.”
“Fine,” Norm said. “I’ll start checking on what we discussed.”
“If you don’t mind, do it yourself,” Kyle said, more as a request than an order. “For my sake, don’t involve anyone else.”
“Okay, if it will make you feel better.”
“Thanks,” Kyle said.
Norm snapped his fingers and one of the agents hurried over. “Take Mr. Randall wherever he wants to go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The same two FBI agents returned Kyle to Allied, to the same spot a few feet from his motorcycle. He slipped on his helmet and managed to straddle his bike while securing the box with his personal items between his legs and the gas tank. If he took it slow, he’d be okay.
He pulled out and saw Allied grow smaller in his rearview mirror. He’d seen it hundreds of times before, but this time it was final, an entire chapter in his life coming to a close. His only comfort was that Norm was on his side and he was no longer alone in the world.
He turned onto Jefferson then headed North on Alameda, passing under the freeway and stopping at the Chevron station perched on the hill. He parked near the pay phone and set his box down, fumbling 35 cents from his pocket. He dialed the office he had set up for Robert, hoping he was there and Curtis wasn’t. Robert picked up the phone on the second ring.
“Curtis just left,” he explained, his voice low as if Curtis was outside the door with a cup pressed against it. “I heard about what happened.”
“I’ll bet,” Kyle said. “Probably Curtis’ version of events.”
“Yeah, but I saw through the crap pretty well.”
“You’re aware you no longer work for me?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah.”
“And that I can’t officially order or even request you to do anything?”
“Yeah.”
“Having said that, I’d like a favor, one that could potentially get you fired.”
“Sounds promising already,” Robert said.
“I want you to grab all of your and Charlie’s notes and disks, and grab a notebook computer. Leave work and get a room at the Marriott Pyramid – I’ll reimburse you. Make sure to get a room on the top floor facing south, one with a suit
e. Then wait there for my page.”
“You mean right now?” Robert asked.
“Right now. Like I said, you could get fired.”
“Okay,” Robert said nonchalantly. “Kurt said our little trap sprung on Rene.”
“Yeah, it did. I’ll explain later. Try not to give her a hard time and don’t tell anyone else.”
“I won’t,” Robert said.
“Actually, if you can’t find a notebook computer, I’m sure Rene could scrounge one up for us.”
“Good idea. Where are you going to be?”
“Conceiving a way to get both of our butts out of this in one piece,” Kyle said. “One last thing, and I know I’ve said this before, but make sure you’re not followed.”
“Don’t worry.”
“And Robert?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, my friend,” Robert said, then repeated it for emphasis. “Anytime.”
Kyle placed the phone back on the cradle and stood frozen for a minute, pondering. An idea began formulating late last night, but pieces were still not in the right places, with some missing altogether. He needed time to relax and think without someone watching or abducting him, to make a list of who his friends were, who he could trust and who he couldn’t. Rene threw him for a loop and he was still having a hard time recovering, but felt better after hearing her version of the story. In spite of what she did, he felt a little sympathy for her, perhaps more for Benjamin’s sake than her own. He knew what it was like to lose a parent and didn’t want her son to go through that pain, if he could help it.
He dug another 35 cents from his pocket, staring at the receiver, his respiration increasing as he scrambled for the right words. He toyed with the idea of the phone call he was about to make, knowing it was but a small piece of the puzzle he was building in his mind, but it was at least in the right place, and the right time. He had to act soon or the opportunity would slip away.
He punched the digits of his home telephone number, hearing it ring on the other end. He knew, or hoped, no one would answer. He assumed it was bugged, or at least was hoping it was, a thought he found amusing after he heard the second ring with no answer. On the third the answering machine clicked on, his own voice declaring he was not at home but please leave a message, followed by the tone.
He took a deep breath before speaking. “I might not know your name, but I know you can hear me.” He searched for the words and chose them carefully, saying each in clear, bold enunciation. “I know from being abducted that one of you is Santiago.” This, of course, was a lie. Rene told him about Santiago, but he needed a break and he hoped they wouldn’t know the difference. He continued, feeling better. “If you don’t call me within the next four minutes, I’m blowing the whistle on everything. I now know all the account numbers.” Another lie, but he was getting better at it. He read the phone number off the plate and hung up to wait the four minutes he had dictated.
After the first minute passed with no return call he began to sweat, doubting whether his phone was bugged at all, or they were no longer listening, or perhaps the FBI had pulled all the bugs. If they didn’t call back, he wasn’t prepared to follow through with his bluff, then he would have to regroup and formulate another strategy.
Minute two passed.
He was fairly certain they wouldn’t have time to track him down using the number he spoke over the phone line. The thought that the FBI tapped his phone also crossed his mind, and if so, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Or worse, they would assume the obvious and arrest him for conspiracy, logically deducing he was and had been involved all along. The thought he could be indicted for the murder of his own best friend sent a chill down his spine.
Minute three passed.
Kyle moved around, rubbing his hands together and walking circles around the box containing his personal belongings. He started to worry about not getting a call at all, then began to worry about what to say if they actually did. He wished he had scripted each step, each phase, with the precise words and responses to every possible contingency. He even started to become concerned that some crabby woman would walk up, a poodle tucked in her arms, and demand to use the phone, leaving him no choice but to fend her off.
Minute four was approaching fast when the silence was broken by the phone ringing. He took a deep breath and answered on the third jingle.
“Good choice,” he said, his courage slowly gaining strength.
“We could kill you before morning,” the voice said. He recognized it as the man who had put the gun to his side, the one Rene called Santiago.
“You could,” he said coolly. “Of course, if I die, it triggers a series of events that brings all your hopes and dreams to a screeching halt. You may not get caught, but you don’t get paid, either.”
After a brief pause, the response came back, “I’m listening.”
Kyle gambled. “Santiago, put the other guy on.”
There was dead silence for a brief instant, Kyle fearful Santiago would hang up the receiver and follow through with his threat. They didn’t know he was bluffing, but he was certain they weren’t.
“I’m here,” a new voice said. Kyle knew it was the man who had threatened him in the limo.
“Get a pen and paper.”
“Done.”
Kyle calmed a bit, forcing his voice to be sharp and unwavering. “For the bargain price of one million dollars, cash, I will ensure your operation continues unabated. At this point I’m the only one who can. The amount is not negotiable. If you do not agree, I have already made arrangements for packages detailing all the events, including Charlie’s murder, along with all the account numbers, to be sent to six major newspapers, four FBI offices, and e-mails to each and every bank impacted.”
Kyle expected some sort of response on the other end, but there was silence for almost five seconds before the man spoke again. “I can’t get that kind of money.”
“You’re lying,” Kyle said coldly. “I’ve estimated how much you stand to benefit from this operation, as well as the amount it took you to get this far. I know you have the money.”
This time there was no pause. “That’s still a lot of money. I have access to half now, then half when it’s over.”
Kyle thought for a second. It wasn’t really about the money. It was about setting a trap he hoped would get them all out of this, and the money was just a means to that end. “Okay,” he agreed.
Kyle breathed a little easier, aligning his thoughts to match his speech. “I will meet with you, and you alone, on top of Sandia Crest just south of the radio towers at twelve-fifteen tomorrow afternoon. You will give me the cash in exchange for a key to a box containing the information I possess, so you know I’m not bluffing. Clear?”
“Crystal,” the voice came back.
“If you deviate from this, the deal’s off. If I don’t return to a designated rendezvous by 1 p.m., then the whole world knows before the sun sets.”
“It appears you’ve become rather brazen since our meeting this afternoon. You don’t care that I could expose your true identity?”
“Let’s say I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Okay, fair enough. I agree to your terms,” the man said, his voice hard and cold. “But understand this – if you fail or double-cross me, I’ll kill your family before I finally get to you. Is that clear enough, Mr. Randall?”
Kyle swallowed hard, regaining his nerve. “Very,” he said simply, and hung up the phone.
He stood there for the next few moments, thinking and shivering.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Norm Alexander arrived at the Albuquerque International Airport by four-thirty. He skipped past the main terminal and drove around the side where the commuter and private hangers were located. He spotted the FBI jet immediately, nosed his car up to the bright yellow line painted on the tarmac, stopped inches from it, and stepped out. The sun was starting its descent in the west, long shadows of
the hangers reaching toward the east where the Sandia Mountains stood sentinel over the city. The airport itself was located on the southern edge of Albuquerque, adjacent to Kirtland Air Force Base. He had met many FBI agents on the tarmac in his time, but looked forward to the day when he could retire, which was the main reason he chose Albuquerque as his final assignment. He figured years ago the local FBI did little and nothing much would happen in such a small city, although Kyle Randall was disproving that theory every time the phone rang.
Agent Carmen Jernigan was scheduled to be in the jet waiting for him. It had been almost a year since he had seen her, and was looking forward to this moment since he thought of linking her up with Kyle. She was the perfect candidate to shadow him, and with good looks and a naturally soft voice, could likely break through some of Kyle’s distrust.
The stairs were locked in place and he climbed up. The jet comfortably held 12 passengers. When he spotted Carmen sitting in the back on the opposite side of the door, she stood, as much as she could, and greeted Norm with a kiss on the cheek followed by a hug lasting a good five seconds.
“Have a seat,” she told Norm, resuming her previous position.
Norm maneuvered around the small table that stood between two seats, one of which Carmen occupied. He slid in beside her. She had changed a lot in a year. Her auburn hair had been shoulder-length and straight, now noticeably longer, down to the middle of her back, and looked like it had been tightly braided recently. She once used little makeup, but she was now adorned with blush, eye shadow, lipstick and an assortment of other costume wear Norm had no clue about. The extra effort made her look older than 27, and prettier than Norm could remember.
“How’s Jean?” she asked, rapping her fingers lightly on the table top.
“Good. Waiting for me to either retire or die so she can go on a cruise. She wants to see you before you leave.”
“I read Kyle’s summary file on the way over,” she said, getting down to business. “Sounds like he’s had a rough life.”
“He’s not partial to the FBI, that’s certain.”
“Everything I read in the summary stopped about ten years ago, so I don’t know much about what’s been going on recently.”
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