by E L Russell
Not able to complete her surveillance, she turned her attention to Granger sleeping in the recliner and allowed herself to dream.
Meret felt her cell being pulled from her hand and woke with a start. Granger sat near her knees checking the cell’s recorded video. “I see you have a solid person of interest. This guy has some security issues.” He handed it back to her. “I haven’t resumed surveillance. What ’s your plan?”
She tongue brushed her teeth and then yawned, pushing herself upright with her elbows. “How about we scan the debris in her apartment? I can do that while you shower. Then, based on what we discover, we might need to talk to Debby.”
“Sounds like a plan. I won’t be long.”
She turned on the beetle bot and relaxed at the sight of a typical post party apartment the host decided to clean up later. The bot’s self check showed no intrusion and the screen showed no sleep-overs. After a quick tour of the kitchen and the bath room, she drifted toward the bedroom. Pleased the door was ajar, she drifted in and almost dropped the smart phone.
Debby, fully clothed with no blanket, seemed deep into sleep. On the table next to her bed a syringe rested in a saucer. A message had been taped on the wall above the head of her bed. Meret landed the beetle on the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed and zoomed the camera to read the message.
“Dr. Mather, come alone, noon, to the Pantheon’s plaza coffee shop, turn bug on, I’ll find you.”
48
Meret encounters The Hacker
Late September, Rome - trip to the Pantheon.
Meret ran to the bathroom cradling her smart phone. ““Granger, we need to go, now! Debby’s in trouble.”
A wet head and shoulders appeared at the door wearing a towel wrapped at its waist. “I’ll need a minute, fill me in, what happened.” He turned away to finish drying and waited for her report.
“I don’t like your plan, Meret. We don’t know these people. You could be the target. You could be what they’re after. That syringe is troubling.”
She stopped brushing her teeth to rinse. “I’m armed, the Pantheon’s plaza is wide open, full of tourists with cameras and I have a tracking necklace with an earbud.”
“No, I refuse to put you and this whole case at risk.”
She realized his company culture wouldn’t allow him to give her that permission. “How about you meet him one-on-one and I sit in the background? You go in one plaza entrance and I’ll go in another. I’ve been there, the outdoor cafes are under a ring of tent tops that cover three sides of the plaza. You can see everyone.”
“You’ll promise to observe and not make any contact unless initiateded by me?”
She relented. “Okay, we have an hour. You go rescue Debby. Collect whatever remains in that syringe and find out how she’s doing and what she knows. We may have to immediately move her to a safer place. I’ll go early and get a seat on the North side as close to the middle as possible. I’ll have the beetle in monitor mode sitting on my table. Henri said he will find me.”
* * *
Meret had the cab drop her off on the western side of the plaza. She waisted no time locating an empty four-top table at the edge of one side side of the plaza. She needed a drink and ordered a double espresso before placing her cell on the table and tapping the icon that displayed the location of Granger’s cell on an overlay of Rome. She used her thumb and forefinger to zoom into a clear image of the plaza adjacent to the Pantheon. A yellow dot confirmed Granger’s location one hundred and twenty yards to the north. He’d located a table with a clear view of the plaza. Her visual of him had already been obscured by the increasing parade of tourists and she was pleased to have the location finder app in the GPS.
Meret’s short association with the CIA had given her an understanding of dead time during a stakeout and ways that allow you to efficiently copy with it. For Meret, is was her paperbacks. She remembered Poppy recommendation of 1Q84. Thick as a brick, it should last a while. When she asked her Taz friend if it was a good romance, Poppy shrugged. “Don’t know, but it’s a hell of a good story. Lot’s a serious slipstream.”
Her level of trust for Poppy had been high since she first saw her, so she jumped right in for her first serious science fiction story.
After several engrossing minutes and as many quick glances at her cell to remind her that Granger had not moved, she was startled by a man’s voice.
“Anyone sitting here? Mind if I join in? Tourists have taken most of the chairs and my feet hurt.”
She glanced over the top edge of her thick book at what at first glance seemed like a graduate student in full beard with man bag wearing full khaki and tan gear. She caught a faint aroma of pot and for an instant was back in the Village just west of Rice taking coffee and sharing sophomoric patter with a few friends.
He selected an empty chair and adjusted its position for a better view of the plaza making sure to not to sit in a face to face confrontation with her.
“Haruki Murakami.”
She looked at him and tilted her head. “I’m Meret.”
He grinned in an annoying way, and pointed at her book. “The author, Haruki Murakami, you like his work?”
She no longer held the paper brick in both hands. One hand slid slowly to rest on the Glock in her shoulder bag hanging next to her thigh. “Just starting.” She saw his hands trembling. “You like slipstream?”
“It reminds me to carefully read people I’m meeting for the first time.”
“How’s that going for you?” She didn’t wait for a response and laid the purse on the table with her hand still inside holding on to the glock. “I think you misread me, Henri.”
His eyes danced about looking for something to help him waltz away.
She spoke softly. “You are in no danger, Henri, we only wish to talk with you.”
He wasn’t doing a good job keeping his voice steady. “Yes, but I need to talk with you because I am in danger.”
“Why did you leave Debby tied up like that?”
“Did you get her?”
Meret’s eyes narrowed and she hissed between clenched teeth. “Why did you leave Debby tied up like that?”
“She wanted to come with me and explain to Granger how we knew each other. I didn’t want her here, near me. It’s too dangerous. I only gave her a small sedative.”
“Special Agent Hawking would not harm her.”
“No, I’m worried about someone else. Someone much, much more dangerous.”
See saw Henri force his hands into his lap to hide his tremors. He scanned the milling crowd, as though watching for someone. His eyes blinked rapidly.
Her voice and her expression softened. “Henri, please tell me about them.” She laid her palm on his upper arm.
That startled him and he looked at her like he’d seen her for the first time. “I did some tech work for some woman recently.” He stared across the plaza at the memory. “She wanted me to build a highly encrypted conference call center built for ten users. Of course I didn’t ask what she needed them for. In my business, you’re better off not knowing.” He shook his finger. “Not knowing is better.” He winced at the thought. “We argued about her not getting into my head.” He looked into her eyes and said, “She promised she wouldn’t, but I know she mind fucked me. I know it.”
Meret tried not to show any reaction, but his words were strong and he seemed resigned to an unpleasant fate.
“At one point I told her if she ever mind fucked me I’d kill her. But she only laughed and told me to watch something on one of the monitors I just setup.”
He hesitated.
Meret patted his shoulder. “It’s okay to tell me, Henri. SA Hawking can protect you, . . . and Debby.”
“You can’t. Don’t you understand what you’re up against?”
“Tell me, what’s her name? What did this mind fuck and what did the woman do?”
His face twitched, exposing teeth on one side. “Katya.”
“What did
she do, Henri?”
“She had me watch her Skype this guy she once worked with in Washington.”
“D.C.?”
He nodded. “Yes. The capitol. He was her boss and she recently mind fucked one of his researchers into killing thousands of women with some kind of biochemical poison just so his company could finance a special piece business they were going to do soon.” His eyes widened and he laughed with no humor. “They call the company Psyco.”
“The women, Henri, were they the women of Socotra? What do you know of this poison?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, she mentioned using a Smart Killing Virus. Said they’d make billions on the next job.”
“What happened? What’s the next job?”
“Her boss, a guy named Donahue, didn’t want to go through with it even though they had just murdered thousands and Katya said they had to because the next job had too many important people involved. The kind of people that kill anyone who stands in their way or knows too much.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing. She did her twisted mind thing that allowed her to initiate behaviors over the phone. I watched her on one of the monitors talk Donahue into reaching into his desk for a gun.”
“How?”
“Her mental voodoo conditioning is strong enough to make him see what she has planted in his mind. You don’t know she’s doing it to you and there’s nothing you can do to fight it.”
“What did Donahue do with the gun?”
“He did exactly what she told him to do on the phone. He put the revolver in his mouth and blew his brains out.”
He covered his face as though trying to quell the image.
“Do you think she has conditioned you in the same way?”
“I don’t know, but what does that matter? All she has to do is call me or send me a perfumed note. Her scent is as strong as her voice or touch, and even if she couldn’t phone or mail me the message, her SKVs could find me anywhere. Do you think any of the women or children on Socotra could have hidden from her poison?”
“Oh my God, Henri that’s terrible. No wonder you believed Debby was in so much danger.”
Motion on her smart phone’s screen drew her eyes. Granger had moved toward her position. She turned to Henri and saw an empty chair.
49
The Next Thing
Late September, Rome - people vanish.
Meret stood as Granger rushed to her table. “Henri’s gone, but he told me want we needed to know.”
Granger glanced about and then took her arm. “Let’s get out of here. We need to talk in private. We have a ride for us waiting by the cab queue on the other side of the Pantheon.” He glanced at his phone. “Hurry.”
* * *
Surprised the taxi she expected turned out to be a company car, she slid into the seat behind the SUV’s driver next to Granger. “What’s the urgency?”
Looking through the tinted window, he pulled his chin. “Debby’s missing.”
“How could that happen?”
“My fault completely. When I removed her bindings she pretended to be drugged and after calling for a pickup, I started to help her down the stairs. Halfway down she collapsed in my arms. Shit, I thought she passed out from something she’d did at the party.”
“What did you do?”
He rubbed his temples. “I sat her on one of the steps and stood over her checking her breathing. That’s when she gave me a head butt and pushed me away with her feet.”
She pulled him close and held his head in her hands using her thumbs to check his eyes.
He moved his head and attempted to interfere with her examination like a child not wanting attention.
She snapped, “Hold Still.” Then ran her fingers over his head, “No bleeding, you’ll probably survive with another headache.”
He shrugged. “I was able to control my fall a bit, but bouncing down head first my attention slipped to protecting my head and then I saw her jump over me and run out the front door.”
She held him away with both arms surveying his face and neck.
He put his face close to her’s, his expression slipped from confusion to anger. “She managed to grab some kid’s bike and took off down the street faster than I could run. I called it in, hoping the arriving company car might see her, but crap, she’s deep in the woods now and probably hiding in some hacker safe house.”
She patted his knee. “If she’s hiding with Henri, she’s in more trouble than we could give her. They both are.” She read him in on her meeting with Henri.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Granger pulled out his phone. “I’m calling this in.” After a short pause he said, “I’m sending the report on persons of interest and need SA Fairchild to put teams in the field to bring them in. It’s mission critical. Also, do you have anything on this Washington guy, Donahue or the company psycho? . . . no, he’s a new character, but the company is P S I, like the Greek letter and corps like the Marine Corps. PSI Corp . . . right, that might be a good place to start.”
While he made his call, Meret revisited a thought she had a few days ago. This is just like playing tag except if you could genetically tag someone. Then, in theory, you could always find them if you really wanted to. From her limited tenure with the Company, it seemed to her that the crimes they dealt with didn’t often come with a statute of limitations. Why not genetically tag suspects so you could trace them later after they committed a serious crime? After all, that’s the idea behind finger printing. She lamented the fact that Zhen and Poppy were physically separated on different sides of the world. Sitting and talking together they always came up with better ideas and reflections of deeds done. As the Company car wove through Rome’s traffic she observed hundreds of people sitting in small groups, drinking coffee, and transferring knowledge and experiences for mutual benefit. Why not? She cradled her cell in her lap and tapped on number two and three in rapid succession.
When the company car pulled to the curb and stopped, Meret suddenly realized they had arrived at the gated entrance to Rome’s CIA station and signed off her social session with Poppy and Zhen.
She followed Granger through security and would have enjoyed the more than brisk walk had she worn her trackies instead of her low-heeled shoes. “Any word from D.C. about Donahue?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Steve will have updates for us when we gather at the debrief.”
Granger’s pace quickened and after taking several unexpected turns and stairs, Meret felt that she probably couldn’t find the front door by herself. She found the numbers of people walking in silent pairs with no eye contact distracting and disappointing. Everyone seemed pre-occupied as though their work had driven them to seek isolation in offices and meetings. Her limited experience already favored field over desk. She tried to imagine what this debriefing session would look like. Who would be present? What was her role as a less than special anything?
Granger hardly slowed his steps to open an unmarked side door and enter unannounced.
The interior lights automatically turned on. The room, empty except for a wooden conference table for eight, a thin screen wall sized monitor, and two keyboard control boxes arranged like a dinner serving at mid-table, explained all she needed to know about the meeting. Granger took the far side seat and spread his notes next to the keyboard. She sat opposite and followed his lead by rotating his chair to face the screen.
Granger checked his watch. “Good timing. We made it.”
The screen went live with the CIA logo and almost immediately, SA Steve Fairchild’s head shot appeared and started talking. “Well done, capitol cops investigated the death of one of PSI Corps Program Directors, a Dirk Donahue, who was found at his desk with an apparent self-inflicted wound from a revolver placed into the roof of his mouth. They consider it a suicide as their security system shows he was the only person in his office anywhere near the time of his death. Per your request, Granger, we’re sending samples of his DNA and f
ingerprints to Dr. Mather’s team in Houston.” He raised his chin toward her. “And, thanks to you Meret, we’ve ID’ed him as the man who tried to impersonate Granger. I don’t have much time, there’s a company plane waiting for you. We need you both back here at D.C. Headquarters immediately. From the INTEL you gathered, the next biological attach will focus on the Homeland. Is there any aspect of your investigation that we can work for you while you’re resting in First Class?”
Granger laughed.
Meret spoke. “That INTEL makes it all the more important we get everything we can about Katya, one of PSI Corps interrogators. We believe she is a key player in all this.”
Granger added, “Pull in my asset, Dr. Piero della Francesca. His presence will assist us greatly. We’ll need these people along with Debby and Henri Baudin”
Steve signed off. “Safe trip. See you at the office.”
The screen fell dark.
She stood, waiting for him to lead them to the front door. “Piero is your asset? When did that happen?”
“Long before I was taken.”
She frowned, “Strikes me that you might have a double agent on your hands.”
He picked up his notes and turned toward the door. “Most perceptive, Meret, you’d make a good agent.”
She swung her shoulder purse on and said, “Hah, I’d make a better director.”
* * *
Katya felt her phone vibrate and saw the caller was Jack Strake. “What?”