Karen followed Etheridge to Falls Church. The driver stopped the car in a parking lot, and the back window opened. Karen pulled up alongside and dropped hers.
“Leave you car here,” Etheridge said. “We’ll take my car the rest of the way. That way you won’t have to go through all the security.”
Karen pulled into a parking space, locked her car and slid into the backseat of Etheridge’s. “What security?” she asked.
“They go over your vehicle from top to bottom, inside and underneath including the trunk and the engine. They check to see if there’s anything unusual. They look at the handles, the locks, and inside of the car without opening the windows or doors. Then they open each door carefully until all four doors are open.
“They then open the trunk and use a laser Doppler vibrometer to first inspect the area. If nothing registers, they look in every cubbyhole and crevice. Once that’s done, they do the same for the interior of the car. They pull out the seats and inspect beneath them. They open the hood and check all over the engine. They then pull the car onto a lift and look beneath it while continually using the vibrometer.”
“It seems excessive.”
“When we get inside the building, they’ll check your purse and send you through the Advanced Imaging Technology machine.”
Karen knew what that meant. They would take a picture of her beneath her clothes. All who were authorized, would see her naked. She locked her jaw and forced herself to block out the irritation.
Karen was silent as they drove up Lewinsville Rd. and turned onto Tysons McLean Drive. There was a brief stop at the security station, and then they pulled into the parking lot of the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Three cameras followed them as they parked, got out of the vehicle, and entered the building.
Once inside, Karen saw the infamous scanning machine. She handed the guard her purse.
He placed it on the conveyor, saw the weapon inside, immediately stopped it and looked up at Etheridge.
“She’s with me,” Etheridge said. “She’s cleared. Karen,” Etheridge called out, holding open a side door. “Come this way.”
The guard handed over Karen’s purse; she sidestepped the imaging machine, and expelled a quiet sigh of relief.
After climbing three flights of stairs, they entered a large atrium-like lobby. Etheridge told her to wait and someone would come get her.
Karen chose not to sit but circled the room to look at the insignias on the walls. A young aide entered.
“May I help you?” he asked.
Karen turned. “I’m waiting for someone. I’m not sure who. Carl Etheridge told me to wait here.”
“Impressive room with all the symbols isn’t it?” the aide said.
“What are they?”
“These are the Intelligence Agencies coordinated by the Director of the Office of National Intelligence.”
“How many agencies are there?” Karen asked, taking a step back to better see the wall in its entirety.
“Sixteen,” the aide said and pointed. “Here’s Homeland Security, responsible for utilizing numerous sources of information to determine terrorist threats on U.S. soil. This one,” the aide pointed and continued, “is the Defense Intelligence Agency. This agency is a support agency. They provide military intelligence. They’re part of the Department of Defense.”
“I recognize the CIA and the FBI. What about that one?” Karen asked, pointing.
“That’s the U.S. Department of Energy's Office of Intelligence and Counterintelligence.”
“What does that department do?” Karen asked, stepping forward a little.
“They protect national security information regarding intellectual property to combat cyber attacks on our energy facilities and offices,” the aide said.
Karen was about to ask for another explanation when second aide entered the room.
“Ms. Krystal, follow me please,” she said.
Karen followed the young female through a maze of hallways to two massive wooden doors. The symbol of the Director of the Office of National Intelligence was on the right-hand panel. The aide opened it, and Karen gasped as she walked into a large, oval-shaped space.
Carl Etheridge sat behind the oversized, walnut desk. “Have a seat, Karen,” Etheridge said, gesturing.
Karen’s eyes narrowed and she said, “I didn’t know.”
“It just happened. It’s not generally announced. The public finds out when the White House leaks it to the press.”
“So, you’re not going to talk to me about Homeland Security, are you?”
CHAPTER 17
Etheridge cleared his throat and said, “Not the cabinet department of Homeland Security, but I do want to speak to you about U.S. protection. I visualize your involvement to be more of an international scope.”
“I’m really not a qualified operative. I’m not trained.”
“That’s why you’re here. It’s time you got trained.”
There was a knock at the door, and it opened. Nathan Mallory appeared.
Karen’s face stayed stoic.
“You know Mallory,” Etheridge said.
Karen acknowledged Mallory with a nod of her head.
“Mallory will have someone take you to HR section when we’re done here. We need to fingerprint you, draw blood, get an eye and palm print, and implant a Hip Chip.”
“Wait. Don’t I have a choice about this? And what’s a Hip Chip?” Karen asked, narrowing her eyes.
Etheridge stood up behind his desk and nodded for Mallory to exit the room. He then turned his back to Karen and looked through the bulletproof window and said, “We know the Labyrinth was traumatic. But we also know that during that time something happened to you.”
“Meaning?”
“Come over to the window.”
Karen stood and walked over to face the glass.
Once there, Etheridge asked, “What do you hear?”
Karen was silent. She then said, “I hear birds chirping or peeping. Like baby birds.”
“These windows are bulletproof and soundproof. Look to the lower left at the ledge.”
“There’s a bird’s nest with three fledglings. I can hear them chirping.”
“You can hear them, but I can’t.”
“That might be because I’m a female. Or because…”
“Because you’re younger, right? Neither is the reason. And neither can anyone else hear them, either younger than you or your age and gender. Now, walk over to that door,” Etheridge said, pointing.
Karen did as directed.
“What do you smell?” Etheridge asked.
Karen was silent again and then softly said, “Roses.”
“This door is sealed on all sides with heavy rubber gaskets to prevent any poison or microscopic substance from entering the room. It has stayed closed since yesterday.
“I was informed of a situation this morning. Open the door.”
Karen grabbed the knob and pulled. It took a good amount of strength to open it because of the vacuum created by the seal. She gasped to see a bouquet of red roses sitting on the desk in front of a female employee on the other side of the room.
The assistant turned to look at Karen.
Etheridge walked over and gently shut the door, pushing it until the mechanism clicked tight. “Your other senses have been heightened, also.”
“How do you know this?”
Etheridge hesitated and then said, “Sit back down.”
With a forced, low tenor to her voice, Karen said, “Mallory,” and then slowly sat in the wingchair.
“Yes,” Etheridge said and sat behind his desk.
Karen’s voice grew harsh. “He reported back to you while we were dating? You know everything? If you think I’d work for you after you—”
“Wait. He told me nothing while you were dating. I knew you two could become a serious couple, and I kept my distance. After you broke it off, I approached him and asked him if he saw any changes in you as a
result of the Labyrinth.
“I was searching for negative reaction: thoughts and feelings you might have against me and the U.S. government. I was afraid you might turn against us. With your knowledge of security systems, we would be at risk, and you would be a threat.
“He assured me that you were an even stronger patriot. He told me nothing of your relationship, and I didn’t ask. But he did tell me about your heightened senses.”
“And so you think I can be used to help your cause,” Karen said. Bile rose in her throat.
“Karen, the U.S. government needs every tool to help conquer terrorism. And if that means we have to recruit people with unusual talents, then so be it. You have attributes that could save people’s lives and protect our country.”
“I want to get back to having a normal life. I want to find a job and work as an architect,” Karen said in a somewhat monotone voice. Although, ever since the Labyrinth she periodically thought of working for the U.S. government so she could find out what happened to her father.
“You didn’t read the newspapers or listen to the news immediately after the Labyrinth?”
Karen pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Just as well. But I hate to break this to you, because of your involvement, some of the reporters, in order to sell their stories and thus sell newspapers, wrote speculative articles suggesting that you were secretly involved with the terrorists. Your chances of being hired might not be as great as you may think.”
“My reputation’s tainted? And my father’s?” Karen asked, the pitch of her voice rising.
“Look, many people were affected by the events surrounding the Labyrinth. You just happened to be at the top of the pile.”
Karen thought for a moment. She could live with her name being dragged through the mud but not her father’s. She looked at the ceiling and then back into Eldridge’s, cold eyes and asked, “What would you have me do?”
“I need you to get to Nevada. I want you to be fully indoctrinated in the ways and means of self defense and counterterrorist training. There’s a facility outside Las Vegas.
“I’ve made a reservation for you for one night at the Bellagio. It’s a five-star hotel on The Strip. The service is impeccable, and the food is outstanding. It’s probably the last time you’ll sleep, eat and be waited on in such luxury for months or until your mission is completed.
“Pack light for the hotel. All your other items will be waiting for you at the training center.”
“What mission?”
“We’ll discuss that after you’re trained,” Etheridge said and rose from his seat.
Karen knew the conversation was over.
Karen stood and said, “One last question. What’s a Hip Chip?”
Etheridge motioned for Karen to sit back down again. He picked up the phone and said, “Have Burnett come to my office and tell him to bring his diagrams.”
Within seconds the door opened and a thin, disheveled-looking man wearing glasses entered the room trying to tuck in his shirt with his free hand. The other was carrying poster boards and a small box.
“Burnett, this is Karen Krystal. Explain the Hip Chip to her.”
Burnett said, “I began this process because of the problem of Child Abduction. The solution I came up with was an early warning system upon kidnapping, coupled with a tracking system afterward.
“The solution is to implant in the human hip a wafer-thin half-inch by half-inch by sixteenth-inch microchip designed to assist as a transmitting/tracking device with a unique binary code for each child.”
Burnett opened the box and took out a thin silicone chip and handed it to Karen.
Karen took it, turned it over a couple of times and then returned it.
While placing it back in the case, Burnett continued. “The tracking can be accomplished by triangularization. Either or both ground and satellite tracking systems can be utilized. Through their satellite division, Martin-Marietta already has this capability.”
Burnett lifted the poster board up on the desk and said, “This is how it works.”
How the Hip Chip works:
A) As part of outpatient surgery, the microchip is inserted beneath the skin of the recipient.
B) Electrical impulses in the muscles of the body provide the chip’s power.
C) The chip transmits the unique code on an intermittent, fifteen-second basis.
D) The Cellular Control Centers are alerted to the code.
E) The Control Center activates the location- identification box at the tower sites to allow pass- through of the code when received.
Burnett held up another poster board with a diagram of how the Hip Chip communicates with the control centers and said, “All cellphones on all systems are activated to receive the code and transmit it automatically when the phone checks for service.
“Additionally,” Burnett continued, “the Hip Chip can be modified to be used by the elderly, pets, adults, teens, prisoners, institutionalized patients, diplomats, heads of state, presidents of major corporations, celebrities, hikers, boaters, military personnel, race horses, prize cattle, rare animals, zoo animals, rare birds, CIA, FBI, NSA, Homeland Security—”
“I think she gets the idea, Kevin,” Etheridge interrupted.
Karen asked, “What information’s on the chip?”
Etheridge thanked Burnett and waited until he left. He then said, “Your Social Security number, date of birth, place of birth, current residence, your blood type, nationality, ethnicity, religious affiliation and…”
“And what?”
“Your sexual orientation along with a special cryptogram unique just to you.”
“How long does the Hip Chip transmit the code?”
“As long as you’re alive.”
“It stops when you die?”
“It’ll keep transmitting up to fifteen days after a person’s dead.”
Etheridge rose and so did Karen. He escorted her to the door; but before he opened it, he squared around and said, “You’re now a trusted associate of the President of the United States. You’ll be privy to sensitive information and directives. If and when you receive any physical, audio, or video information from this office or the White House, you must read it, memorize it, and then destroy it. Understand?”
Karen nodded her head and Etheridge opened the door. A man was waiting just outside.
Etheridge said, “This gentleman will escort you to our fitting room.”
“Fitting room?”
“Just follow him.”
Karen obeyed and was soon being fitted for an SIG 226 standard-issue pistol along with a special cellphone with x-ray, infrared, and ultrasound capabilities.
She was then passed on to a female technician who said, “We’ve already loaded your personal address book, calendar, and numbers into the memory of this phone including your Middleburg gate code. You’ll no longer use your old cell. Please give it to me.”
Karen reached into her purse and pulled out her cellphone. “How did you load all my numbers? Where did you get them?”
The technician just looked at Karen and held out her hand. Karen handed it over. The technician took it and placed it into a metal compartment and latched the door. She then pressed a button and there was a muffled hissing sound. Within seconds, she opened the door and there was nothing left but ashes.
She then said, “In addition, you’re issued this laser gun. This may be useful if you’re trapped somewhere and need to bore a hole to breathe or through which to escape.”
Karen looked at it and placed it in her purse along with the new cellphone. In her other hand she held the SIG 226. The technician fastened on the holster and adjusted the straps and then took it off.
“Now, try to put this on,” she said, handing the holster to Karen.
Karen placed her purse on the table along with the SIG and stretched the holster straps around her shoulders.
“Good,” the technician said and handed Karen the gun.
; Karen took it and holstered it.
“When you’re in the field on assignment in conflict, you’ll need to wear this here or on your outer thigh. This holster can be worn on any part of your body including between your legs near your crotch. But the SIG 226 is too big to be worn there. Keep it in your purse for now.”
The technician took off the holster, reconfigured it and handed Karen a Glock subcompact G33. “This is a .357 semi-auto Gen four. It weighs about twenty-two ounces. You’ll hardly feel it. Use this as a backup, not your personal Smith and Wesson. Try it,” she said.
Karen bared her legs, fastened the holster, set in the gun, and dropped her skirt.
The technician said, “Now, try walking.” She watched Karen walk away from her and then return. “Turn around,” the technician said.
Karen did and the technician lifted up Karen’s skirt. “You have the perfect gap between your legs,” she said and dropped the fabric. “Does the weapon rub the inside of your thigh?”
“No.”
“Excellent. That might be the best place for you to wear it. Keep it with you at all times.”
“I have to fly, what about security?”
“You’ll be fine. It’ll be taken care of.” The technician pressed a button and another female entered the room. “This is Sarah. She’ll take you to the implant room.”
Karen was led to a sterile operating room and immediately told to drop her skirt, unfasten her holster and get atop the metal, operating table. Within seconds, a nurse walked in and folded down Karen’s panties about three inches. She proceeded to shave her, disinfect the skin, and then place a white cloth over the bare area.
An anesthesiologist entered the room and Karen was given a local sedative. Five minutes later, a surgeon entered, and in what seemed only a minute, Karen was told she could get off the table and get dressed.
She stood up and looked down at the small bandage on the front of her hip. She refastened her holster, seated her Glock, pulled on her skirt and was escorted back to Etheridge’s office.
Etheridge came from behind his desk, sat down in the chair next to Karen, and said, “As I had told you before, we continually have situations where we have to respond with various methods. We’re somewhat lacking when it comes to humans with heightened senses. You’ve demonstrated that you have almost superhuman abilities.”
Krystal Scent (Krystal Vibration Series Book 2) Page 12