The normal procedures section, he also read carefully, knowing full well there would be checklists on board to follow. This meant he didn’t have to memorize anything, just be sure he understood what to do. If only there was more time!
He knew enough about the national airspace system so he could interact with the controllers without any problem. He just had to learn how to fly the plane.
Exhausted, he walked into the motel room for a last get-together before the flight the next day. If he was going to make this work, he would need to get some sleep. Doug and Emily were already there.
Doug looked up at him as he came in the door. Doug put down a piece of paper he had been writing on. “Are you ready? Can you do it?”
“Yeah, I can do it. I need to get some sleep though.” He was relieved to see Emily there, back from her travels, unscathed. And it felt good to have a plan, the idea they could exert some control over what happened next. “Emily, did you get the uniforms?”
Emily reached over and pulled some clothes out of a bag. She held a white shirt with epaulets up to her chest. “What do you think?”
“Wow, an aviatrix! I love it!”
Emily gave Alex a sidelong glance. “I saw a sign at the pilot shop. It said: ‘Looking for a good woman. Must be able to cook, sew, clean and wax airplanes. Must own airplane and hangar. Please send picture of airplane and hangar.’ Is that how you are?”
“That depends,” said Alex. “What kind of plane have you got?”
Doug shook his head and looked up at Emily. “So, do we have a venue for interrogation?”
Emily put the shirt back into the bag. “Yeah. I found a vacant warehouse in Clinton, Massachusetts. It’s out of the way and only about thirty minutes from Worcester Airport. The airport has a long runway that airliners used when scheduled air traffic went in there before 9/11. Will that work for you, Alex?”
“Sure, I’ve flown in there a lot. Should have no trouble getting a bizjet in there.”
“I contacted the agent for the warehouse and arranged to rent it for a week,” Emily continued. “I stressed I needed it for a very private purpose. I don’t think there’ll be a problem. The agent seemed happy just to be able to rent it, if only for a week. There’s a large door on the ground floor we can use to drive the van in and keep it out of sight. Adequate electrical power is available and there’s plenty of wifi we can use in the area. Thank God Oscar wrote the software to break into wifi systems.” She paused for a few moments at the mention of Oscar’s name. “I hope Oscar and Richard are okay. They didn’t look too good.”
Doug shook his head. “Unfortunately, they’re almost certainly dead.” He took a deep breath. “I looked around in the data on the computer. I was hoping to find something more about what happened at the house; maybe Oscar was able to send us more than what we saw. But, there was nothing.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m afraid we have to forget about Richard and Oscar.”
Alex’s stomach cramped in a knot. The desire to wrap his fingers around Todd’s neck and squeeze flooded his mind. Even that was too good for that son-of-a-bitch Martin.
“Look, we can’t lose sight of the goal,” said Doug. “There are things going on here that are bigger than any one of us. Richard and Oscar knew that. They knew the risks and embraced them. They were caught, and we can’t change that. But we can make sure that their sacrifice means something.”
He reached for the piece of paper he had earlier. “I’ve made a list of who we should include in the teleconference. I want to know what you guys think. I thought we would get better results if we contacted people directly by name. The names I came up with are:
“James Webb, Director of the FBI – I know him, I can’t believe he would be involved. John Strauss, director of the CIA. The CIA and the FBI are always butting heads. They should be good watch dogs for each other. Tom Levine, Director of NSA. Samuel Skerrit, Council to the President of the United States. Xiang Xu, Chinese ambassador to the UN – sits on the Security Council. Charles Leblanc, French ambassador to the UN – also on the Security Council. Andrew Thompson, British ambassador to the UN – on the Security Council. Sergei Provikov, Russian ambassador – Security Council. Sidhartha Pratap, India – Security Council. Seguro Hashimoto, Japan. Antonio Poletti, Italy. Henry Wilson, editor-in-chief, New York Times. Chad North, editor-in-chief, London Times. Francois Belieu, editor-in-chief, Le Monde. Walter Heines, editor-in-chief, Der Speigel. We could also include Russian newspapers, Chinese newspapers, other members of the security council, or other governments. What do you think?”
“I think we need to include more people than we expect will participate,” said Emily. “I know you’re experienced in dealing with these people, Doug. But I also think not everyone will take us seriously. How do you plan on approaching them?”
“I plan on appealing to each person’s sense of security, or insecurity, and mention their worst enemy will be present.”
“That ought to work,” said Alex.
“I’ll expand the list and send out the invitations.”
“Let’s set the time for the teleconference for six PM,” said Alex. That’ll give us enough time to return to Worcester, get to the warehouse in Clinton and work on Todd a little to get him ready to open up.”
“Now, what’s your plan to get the plane’s crew out of the way?” asked Doug.
“I’m thinking if we can draw them out to a car, we can drug them, drive them to the interrogation spot and keep them there until things are resolved, one way or another. Can you get us an appropriate car? Something you’d expect poor, starving pilots to own?”
“No problem.”
“How about something to drug them with? Something quick acting and will keep them unconscious until we can get them where they’re going? You got anything we can use, Doug?”
“Sure. I have some drugs you’d appreciate that I stashed away in earlier operations.”
“Can you get the car and the drugs safely?” asked Alex. “The last thing we need is for any one of the rest of us to be caught.”
Doug smiled. “I’ve been living in the shadows for decades, I have ways…”
“You can count on that,” said Emily.
“We’ll need to drug Todd too,” said Alex. “Something that’ll make him appear drunk, but not totally unconscious. I’m thinking Versed.”
“I think I can get you what you need,” said Doug. “And an easy way to administer it too.”
Alex was beginning to think Doug could get him anything he asked for. “We’ll also need some way of changing the crew’s badges so they have our pictures on them. Can you do that in the van, Doug?”
“I think I can find something that’ll work just fine.”
“Your plan is a little vague, Alex,” said Emily.
“I know. I’m afraid we’ll have to wing it a little.”
“We’re going to have to wing this a lot.” Doug looked at each of them in turn. “But, that’s not necessarily bad. The unexpected always happens. As Ulysses S. Grant put it: ‘Man proposes, God disposes.’ If you’re not prepared to deal with the random factor, you’re lost. And I can’t think of two other people I would rather rely on to come up with creative solutions when the need arises.”
“I do need to go over the airport security procedures with Emily so no one gets suspicious.” Alex turned and looked at Emily. “There’re also some flight procedures you’ll have to help me with.” He noticed a very worried expression flash across her face. “Don’t worry, it’s just a matter of reading off checklists and numbers off certain dials in the cockpit so I can pay attention to the flying. I’ll coach you before you have to do it.”
Emily still looked doubtful, but she nodded.
“Okay,” said Doug. “We’re all beat. Let’s turn in and go over the last minute details in the morning when we’re better rested.”
Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I can do this, he thought.
Chapter Twenty
Behind
him, Richard heard the slam of a door and the click of a lock sent home as Doo-rag left the room. Doo-rag. Richard shouldn’t be dehumanizing him like that. It went against all of his Buddhist training. Still, he just couldn’t bring himself to think of him as “Martin.” Richard would have to work on that.
Richard rolled over onto his left side and looked around him. The windowless room was carpeted, but was otherwise bare. Fluorescent light flowed down through fogged plastic squares set in a tiled ceiling. Indentations in the carpet showed evidence of the room’s use in the recent past – places once supporting the legs of a desk and chair. On one side of the room, near a wall, lay Oscar, where he had unceremoniously been thrown moments before. His eyes were closed; soft moaning came from his lips. The blood flowing from his face earlier was now clotted into hard brownish lumps around his nose and down his chin.
Richard got up on his knees and moved over to where Oscar lay. All his muscles hurt and he had total-body bruise. Once next to Oscar, he moved between his supine friend and the wall. Gotta get rid of the pen and vial! he thought. It’s just damn lucky they haven’t searched us yet. He surreptitiously reached down to the seam in his pant leg bearing the vial and removed it as he examined Oscar. He was careful to use his body to shield what he was doing from the rest of the room. They probably have cameras watching us. “Oscar, are you all right? Oscar?” he called. As he did so, he reached to the place where the carpet ran up against the wall and pulled it up a few centimeters, just enough to wedge the vial under the carpet. He glanced cautiously at his handiwork and was satisfied the vial was hidden without evidence of its presence. “Oscar, wake up!” He shook Oscar gently.
“Huh? Wha…?” Oscar’s eyes came open and slowly focused on their surroundings. He moaned a little louder.
Richard leaned over his friend and pulled the pen from the seam in his shirt sleeve. “Oscar, are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”
Oscar looked at Richard. “My stomach, mostly. But everything hurts.”
Repositioning himself as if to get a better look at Oscar, Richard hid the pen under the carpet as well. “Let me see…” Richard reached and pulled down on Oscar’s generous belt-line as he lifted his shirt tail from his pants. In doing so, he pressed lightly on Oscar’s gut, causing him to tighten his abdominal muscles involuntarily and let out a gasp.
“Careful!” cried Oscar. “That’s where it hurts the most.”
Richard looked down at a splotchy purple patch the size of an eggplant on the left upper quadrant of Oscar’s belly. He touched it gently.
“Yeah!” gasped Oscar. “That’s the spot!” Oscar’s breath was coming in short whooshes.
“Mmm…” said Richard.
“I never like it when I hear that from a doctor.”
Just then, Richard heard the lock again and the door opened. In the doorway stood Doo-rag, Martin, carrying what looked to be scrubs and underwear. “Strip naked and put these on. Now!” He stood, waiting for Richard and Oscar to comply.
“Oscar’s seriously hurt. He needs to go to a hospital.”
“And I’m supposed to care because…?”
“He’ll die if you don’t. If he dies, he’s going to take some useful information with him.”
“What information do you think he has that I want?” There was an unpleasant scowl on Doo-rag’s face.
“I know nothing,” said Oscar in a breathy voice.
Thinking quickly, desperately, Richard said, “He knows how to access the data we’ve collected. He knows how to stop it from being distributed on the web to other people that can stop you.”
“Nobody can stop us now. And I only need one of you alive, not both of you.” Doo-rag paused as if considering. “We know you have the pen someplace – here with you, at the house, with the others - somewhere. If you tell me how to get it, save us some time and trouble, I can arrange for Oscar to go to a hospital.”
Richard remained silent. This was what he hoped for, but he had to play his hand slowly and cautiously. Responding too quickly or easily might arouse suspicion. He had a desperate ploy in mind, and even if successful, it would do no more than buy a little time. But if he was lucky...
“Fine,” said Doo-rag. “Strip, now!”
Richard complied and dressed in the scrubs provided. Oscar tried to undress, but wasn’t able to deal with the pain it caused. Moving over to his friend once again, Richard helped him disrobe and then dress in the scrubs. Every move seemed to cause unbearable pain. Richard threw their clothes at Doo-rag, then looked him in the eye. “I think you ruptured his spleen. If he doesn’t go to surgery within the next couple of hours, he will die. It will be on your conscience if he does.”
“He wouldn’t be the first. And I kind of like seeing the fat slob squirm.” A sick smile spread across his lips. “If you don’t like it, you know what you can do.”
Richard stared at him blankly, not saying a word.
Doo-rag reached down and collected their clothing, including their underwear and shoes, into a large bundle. Turning around, he left the room and closed the door behind him. The lock once again clicked closed.
Richard stared at the door for a moment, then turned to his friend. “Oscar, why didn’t you leave when I did?”
Oscar seemed to be a little more comfortable if he didn’t move and was able to talk in a normal voice as long as he lay quietly on his back. “I planned to. But I needed to shut down the computers so these guys couldn’t find out what we’ve been up to. I was afraid they might find something that would lead to Alex, Emily and Doug.”
“But that shouldn’t have taken you more than a few seconds. And what happened in the house? It looked like a battle was fought in there!”
Oscar started to giggle, but it was cut short by a gasp of pain. “That was part of what kept me there. The hard drives were wiped clean and I was ready to go out the back in the smoke. As I was mentally calculating the probability of making it over the back fence without being spotted, the area defense program I created came up on the computer screen.”
Oscar grunted in pain as he shifted himself slightly in order to get more comfortable on the hard floor. “You have to understand. Some friends and I have been working on this for several years. We talked about what to do if we ever got raided; you know, how we could physically protect ourselves. A lot of ideas were kicked around, most of them theoretical, but I tried to apply some of them. The object was not to kill, maim or seriously injure, but to delay, to hide and confuse long enough to facilitate escape.” Oscar, in a spasm of pain, held his breath. A few moments later, he slowly let out the retained air.
“If you want to just rest without talking, it’s okay,” said Richard.
“No! I really want to tell you about this, it was so cool!” Oscar took another deep breath, then continued. “Around the outside boundary of the yard, I placed motion sensors that would warn us if anyone came on the property. The next escalation in the system came if someone came onto the porch. If the door were approached, automatic devices slid dead bolts deep into the bricks around the door. I reinforced the door with a grill of high carbon steel, making it impenetrable and the dead bolts made it so you had to tear down the wall to get in through the door.”
“Which, from what I saw, was what they did,” said Richard.
Oscar paused to shift his bulk again. He seemed quite uncomfortable. “I just finished wiping the data clean when up on the screen came images from the porch and living room. I had to know how well the system worked. I put a lot of time and effort into it, you know. Anyway, the smoke came pouring out next. It worked perfectly, from what I could see. What did it look like from the roof?” Oscar grunted again as he moved to look at Richard and then fell back onto his back.
“It worked great. I caught a brief glimpse of some people in front of the house, then I was swallowed in the smoke and couldn’t see anything. I had to work fast so I could see where I was jumping.”
“I didn’t plan adequately for that,” said Oscar. “I
’ll need to consider it for subsequent upgrades.”
At least he’s got a positive attitude about what’s going on here, thought Alex. That should help him get through this.
“Those bozos tried to force their way through the door for a while and then turned to the front window. I placed a high carbon steel grate behind that as well so it didn’t get them far by breaking the window. They then did something I didn’t expect – they put some kind of paste on the edges of the grill and lit it. It must have had something like thermite in it because it melted the edges of the grill; they pushed it into the room. That activated the next level of defense.”
“But why didn’t you leave while you could?”
“No way I was going to leave after that. Things were going to get real interesting and I knew it. They tried stepping into the room through the window. Motion sensors picked them up and started a defense system coordinated by the central computer. Radio controlled toy cars, trucks and tanks with dart guns powered by CO2 canisters were activated. The computer directed the toys to shoot that part of the body that moved the most, probably the hands. I expected any intruders would be wearing Kevlar, but the most they would have on their hands would be leather or cloth gloves. The darts were doped with a drug like ketamine that would put the invaders to sleep within a couple of minutes.” Oscar paused for a few seconds to take some deep breaths. “So, when these guys came in the living room, they found themselves surrounded by ten toys firing darts at them in a cross fire.”
Richard laughed. “That must have freaked them out.”
Oscar managed to smile. “That took out two guys before they were able to shoot up the toys. The next layer of defense was a series of infrared lasers I’d hidden in the ceiling. The computer directed their shots at the hands of the guys with the guns. While doing no serious damage, it caused them enough pain so they had to drop their weapons. By this time, the floor was littered with all kinds of detritus – plaster from the walls, bits of broken toys, people lying on the floor unconscious. So the next attack came from radio controlled helicopters with dart guns. Those took out another two guys.”
The Devil's Vial Page 21