“Tell me something, Kyle, do I go to work in the morning?”
Kyle patted his face with a towel as he stepped out of the bathroom. “I need you to call in sick tomorrow. We have to get busy.”
“Doing what?”
“First, I need you to get on the Internet and tell me exactly what the weather will be like tomorrow around noon. Specifically, the weather on Sandia Crest. If you go to sandiapeak-dot-com they offer a ski report and will likely have weather details. Second, I need you to call the Sandia Peak hotline and see if the road up to the crest is open. I mean all the way up, to the radio towers. If they predict clouds, I need to know the coverage and for how long. As much detail as you can get.”
Robert had been marking notes on a pad, then looked up. “Mind telling me what for?”
“I will, later. Third, we’re going to need your truck tomorrow around noon.” Kyle reached in his wallet, pulled out a 20 and dropped it on the bed. “Here’s gas money. Make sure the tank is full by tonight.”
“Got it,” Robert said.
“Did you copy all the necessary files on the notebook?”
Robert nodded, looking up. “I copied all of Charlie’s and mine, combining them.”
Kyle sat on the bed. “How many accounts have you discovered so far?”
“Only fourteen. It takes time because I have to call every bank, and some start asking all kinds of questions that I don’t think we’re ready to answer.”
“Good. Did you document them?”
“Yeah. I have a spreadsheet going now. It’s with the other files.”
Kyle stood again, pacing around the room. “I want you to put it all on a CD, and do that before anything else. Then get me another printout of the smart card and the article on the national ID Card.”
“Okay. That’ll take about 30 minutes. Can I ask why?”
Kyle looked over to Robert. “I’m going to use it to bargain with.”
“Bargain with who?”
“The people who killed Charlie.”
Robert stood up straight, his eyes darting left and right before focusing on Kyle. “What!”
“They kidnapped me this afternoon, then when they brought me back, the FBI forced me into a meeting.”
“You’re shittin’ me?”
“I wish I was, Robert. I’m afraid the people who killed Charlie are going to try to do the same to me, so I’m writing a little insurance policy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Robert asked, slowly sitting down at the edge of the bed.
“The more you know, the deeper you’re in. If you want to back out now, I’ll understand. I have no right to put you on the line.”
Robert stared silently at Kyle for a few long moments, then grunted lightly. “What the hell, it beats sitting in front of a terminal all day fixing code.”
“Are you certain?” Kyle asked.
Robert gave a single nod. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve actually been enjoying this. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed working on something. And if it nails Charlie’s killers in the process, great.”
“Thanks,” Kyle murmured. “I also need you to make a list of home phone numbers of everyone on our team. If you can, also include their cell and pager numbers.”
Robert jotted it down. “Done.”
“Go ahead and burn a CD while I make a phone call.”
Robert nodded and headed for the table, sitting down and starting to type frantically on the keyboard. Kyle walked over to the edge of the bed by the window and sat down, then reached for the phone. He dialed a number he knew well, hoping for an answer.
Soon a voice came on with a warm hello.
Kyle recognized him immediately. “Hey, Zane.”
“Hey, it's been a long time.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “you must need something.”
Kyle grinned. “I hate it when you know everything, but I think you’ll like this.”
“Just like you thought I’d like that tall brunette?”
“Well, you married her, so yeah?”
Kyle could hear Tanya, Zane’s wife, yelling hey Kyle in the background, along with the clanging of dishes being washed. “I do love her like crazy. Now, what can I do for you?”
“How would you like the opportunity to save my butt and earn a thousand dollars?”
Zane laughed out loud as Kyle laid out the plan.
____________
Kyle laid back on the hotel bed and shut his eyes after hanging up with Zane. His once fleeting thought was slowly developing into an intricate plan, but with a lot of what-ifs still remaining. A great deal depended on how Santiago, if that was his real name, and his band of conspirators reacted, which Kyle could only speculate. Kyle had learned a lot from when he was abducted and gaining a glimpse of how they operated. If he was wrong, the entire scheme could fall through and he could end up like Charlie. He hadn’t thought about Charlie in a long while, or Beth and the kids and how they were faring under the circumstances. There were pieces of Kyle’s plan that he would be asked to explain but wasn’t willing to just yet, not even to Robert, who was growing ever more curious.
The quiet was interrupted by a prolonged beep piercing the silence.
Kyle reached for his belt and removed the pager, then pressed the button to read the display. It was a number he didn’t know. He got back up and dialed; a young female voice answered. She introduced herself as Carmen Jernigan of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, D.C. office. She was Norm’s close friend. Kyle was pleasant over the phone and recited detailed directions to the Marriott Pyramid. She said she would be about an hour, then hung up. Her name lingered in his mind. There was something familiar about it, but he couldn’t place it.
“Who was that?” Robert asked.
“We’re about to have an FBI agent join our little party.”
“I thought you didn’t trust them.”
“I don’t, but I trust Norm and Norm trusts her, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, at least for now. Be careful what you say around her, okay?”
Robert nodded, putting the CD into its jewel case and standing up. “Here it is.” He pulled two pages from the printer as well, handing them to Kyle.
Kyle folded the pages, keeping them along with the CD. “Thanks. Can I borrow your truck?”
Robert pulled out his car keys. “Take care of her. I still owe a ton of money.”
Kyle smiled as he headed out the door. “I’ll probably go ahead and fill it up while I’m out. You can hang on to the 20, we’ll probably need it later.”
“Kyle?” Robert yelled, calling him back.
Kyle turned back toward Robert.
“Just to let you know,” Robert said, “I’m starting to figure out more of what’s going on with the hidden code. It doesn’t look good.”
“Tell me when I get back,” Kyle said.
“And if the agent gets here before you?”
“Don’t say a word about anything we’re doing. Hide that check list. Another thing, how many blank CDs did you bring?
“Five.”
“Make me two more copies, identical to the one you just did.”
“Sure, no problem. By the way, you didn’t tell me the FBI agent’s name.”
“Carmen,” Kyle said as he turned to leave. “Carmen Jernigan.”
It took Kyle a minute or so searching the parking lot before he finally found Robert’s truck. Driving it was strange since he was used to either his motorcycle or his Camaro. The motorcycle gave him a sense of speed, freedom and openness while the Camaro hugged the road and turned corners on a dime. It felt strange to sit up so high from the road. He managed nonetheless, heading north on Interstate 25 and pulling off at the Tramway exit. He believed the drive east on Tramway, up the long hill toward the mountains, was the best in the city. Both left and right of the road was Indian reservation, land not yet encroached upon with streets, houses and zoning regulations. A new casino had been built on the left, with the Bien Mur Indian Arts and C
rafts building across on the right, and just east was a small herd of bison roaming in an enclosed expanse.
The road up to the base of the mountain stretched about five miles, two lanes snaking their way through fields of dry grass and weeds. The mountains spread out in front of Kyle as he drove east, the far-off peaks of the Sangre de Cristos rising above Santa Fe clearly visible to the north, the Sandias climbing upward just ahead of him and the Manzanos miles away to the south and east. He could see civilization in the form of brightly lit homes far to his right as the edge of Albuquerque came to an abrupt halt, a straight line of houses and city lights stretching east to west that demarcated an invisible, impassable barrier known as the Indian nation.
He enjoyed the drive as he rode in peace and quiet. The mountains grew larger as Tramway dog-legged toward the south into the posh community of Sandia Heights, the high desert section of Albuquerque that people of means called home. At the stop sign he turned left and went farther up the mountain, soon arriving at the parking lot of Sandia Tram.
He got out and looked at the city, light spread out for miles before him, dusk falling fast and the lights flickering across the valley. He scaled several flights of cement steps, into the tram building and still up more steps. He veered right when he reached the top, walking to the counter to purchase a round-trip ticket to the crest, forking over fourteen dollars.
He went to the window and looked up the mountain, the large pair of tram cables disappearing over the first ridge. He could see a cable car coming down toward him, and the large LED sign over the door reported it would be five minutes before the next departure. He sat, biding his time. There were only a few others waiting for a tram car to go up, most likely to dine at the High Finance Restaurant. The official ski season hadn’t yet begun, but was right around the corner, usually starting in mid-December, unless the snow wasn’t good enough before then.
The cable car entered the loading dock, a small band of tourists stepped off, talking amongst themselves and shaking off the cold. Kyle and five others boarded the cable car. Two couples were warmly bundled in heavy coats, but a young man that looked like a college kid, apparently had no idea of how cold it would be at the top wore only shorts and a T-shirt. Kyle knew he would have the shakes before they reached the summit.
The conductor boarded the car, instructed everyone to step back and grab the railing as they embarked on the journey up the mountain. The tram car had a capacity of about 30 people, with large windows encircling the cabin. Fastened to the ceiling was a drop-down ladder leading to a small, square maintenance door cut into the top. A bell rang out, the two side doors closed and they started their ascent with a sluggish lurch, the car swaying as it exited the tram bay. The conductor recited the safety procedures and eventually eased into his well-worn monologue on the history of the tram – it’s first riders went up the mountain in May of 1966 and now carries almost a quarter million people each year. Along with transporting passengers, beneath the tram car was a large storage compartment that supplied water to the restaurant at the top, as no wells could be dug at ten-thousand feet.
The tram slowed as it approached the first tower that supported the massive cables, a metal structure standing over 230 feet situated at the base of the first mountain ridge. It crested the top, glided over, then rolled through the other side. The tram picked up speed again and swayed back and forth as it emerged on the other side. It continued on to the second tower further up the mountain. Kyle looked to the west and could see the lights of Albuquerque sparkle with life, brightest in the downtown area at the center of the city.
As they continued their ascent upward at an even steeper angle than before, the conductor pointed out features of the mountains, the types of animals one could see during the day, rock formations and historical facts, such as the crash of TWA flight 260 back in 1955. As they passed over TWA Canyon, as it had since been branded, the conductor explained how sixteen people lost their lives on a cold February morning heading for Santa Fe. On a good day with the right amount of sunlight, passengers might get a glimpse of the wreckage below. Kyle leaned close to the window and gazed downward, seeing only darkness and shadows. He started to feel anxious as the trip seemed to be slower than he remembered, although he knew it was a fifteen-minute ride. With any luck he would beat Carmen back to the room, but it would be close.
After rolling over the upper cable tower, the tram started the third and longest leg of the journey up the mountain and they soon passed the other cable car headed down. They finally reached the summit and Kyle, along with the others, quickly exited on the south side. As he left the warm car, he felt the temperature drop quickly, a chill settling over him as the cold wind whipped through his hair. The college kid walked out undaunted, not looking cold whatsoever.
He walked into the visitor’s center, hoping he remembered the layout correctly. As he entered, he felt and heard the heaters blowing, warmth caressing his cheeks. He went down the small hall, looking to the right. It was just as he remembered. A row of lockers ran half the length of the back wall, the other half occupied by maps and enlarged photos, encased in clear plastic, of the ski area. He went to one of the lockers where an orange key protruded outward, opening it. The compartment was small, but more than adequate. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out the CD Robert had created, along with the two folded sheets of paper, putting them inside. He got a quarter and slid it in the slot, closing the door and removing the key. He jiggled the door. It was secure.
He walked out the north door, stuffing the key in his right pocket. A tiny phase of his plan had just been completed and he started to feel confident, like he could really pull it off.
Wooden steps ascended north where the High Finance Restaurant stood, overlooking the city. Snow covered most of the steps, but a path had been cleared to the restaurant and off toward the ski lifts. He carefully ascended each step, passing a few couples making their way back down to the visitor’s area where they would wait for the tram, which wasn’t due for departure for another few minutes.
He strolled to the far corner of the deck that looked out over the city, the wind rising from the rocks, fanning his hair. He had read that the panoramic view spanned fifteen-thousand square miles, and from where he was standing, he could believe it. He looked off to the right as the mountain range headed north, toward Santa Fe. Just over a mile away he could see the radio and television towers, small red lights blinking on top of each. That’s where he had scheduled to meet the unknown leader tomorrow. There was a trail running just under a mile and a half that went from where he was all the way to the towers, where another visitor center, gift shop and café were located, along with ample parking. He and Tanya, Zane’s wife, would drive up tomorrow, if the roads remained clear. He anticipated Carmen would tag along as well, and that worried him, having not even met her.
He heard a voice in the distance call for passengers. The tram was about to depart. He made his way back down, careful not to slip in the snow, and waited with a crowd of people warming themselves in the visitor’s center. After another minute, the west door opened and people filed out, clutching their coats and scarves as they scurried into the tram, Kyle following behind. He didn’t see the kid with the shorts and T-shirt.
The ride down seemed faster, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Each of the two tram cars were complementary to the other. When one was at the top, the other was at the bottom.
Once he left the cable car, he hurried down the steps and into Robert’s truck, heading back toward Interstate 25. He stopped at the gas station that was run by the Indian Reservation and filled the tank, and then went south toward the Pyramid. He arrived at the room a few minutes before six-thirty, knocking on the door. He forgot to get a key-card from Robert, and made a mental note to do so.
The door opened, a young girl standing on the other side.
Her voice was soft. “Kyle?”
Kyle looked up, surprised, and disappointed. He hoped to make it back before she arri
ved, and now he would have to figure ways to speak privately with Robert.
“Yes,” he said, stepping into the room.
She closed the door and extended her hand. “Agent Carmen Jernigan.”
Kyle shook her hand lightly. “You’re a lot younger than I expected.”
“Don’t let that fool you,” she said, walking over to the chair in the small living area, taking a seat. “I’ve been a field agent for over three years.”
Kyle heard the bathroom door open and Robert stepped out.
“Well, I see you two have met,” Kyle said, taking the chair next to Carmen. She wasn’t anything like he anticipated, but felt relieved that she was so young. Maybe it would make things easier.
“Have you made arrangements for a room or would you rather stay here with us?” he asked her.
“Am I staying here tonight?” Robert asked, genuinely surprised.
“I think it’s best,” Kyle told him.
“I’ll take the couch,” Carmen said, “but I need to get my things out of the car.”
Kyle stood. “Need help?”
She shook her head, starting for the door. “I’m a big girl.”
She walked out, leaving Robert and Kyle alone. Kyle walked over to the desk where Robert had taken a seat at the notebook PC.
“When did she get here?” he asked.
“About ten minutes ago. Where were you?”
“I’ll tell you later. Did she ask anything? Or see anything?”
“Only why we’re are in a hotel. I told her your house was bugged. I hit pay dirt when I was decrypting the code.”
Kyle pulled a chair over and sat next to Robert. “Tell me before she returns.”
“You don’t want her to know?” Robert asked.
“Not yet. Remember, timing is everything.”
“Okay. I’ve been going around in circles trying to figure this thing out. During that time, I got really good at reading the code, so I started unraveling this a lot faster. It turns out the code will divert money randomly from both private and corporate bank accounts just before midnight at the end of this year.”
Stratagems Page 22