by Janie Crouch
And pray it wasn’t a trap.
Chapter Eight
An hour and a half later, dressed in as much of a disguise as she could manage, which basically consisted of stuffing her long brown hair in a ball cap and sunglasses that covered a lot of her face, Bree sat in a bookstore across from the church where she was supposed to meet Melissa. She’d already been in the highest floors of the surrounding buildings that she could get to without raising suspicion, trying to do as much short-term recon as she could manage.
Everything about the city made her want to panic. Denver, for all the natural beauty of the surrounding mountains, was also a hub for technology. The public face of the Organization had an office here.
And the message from Melissa—the more Bree considered it, the worse it seemed. No doubt the phone was being tracked. Otherwise, how would Melissa know Bree could even make it to Denver in two hours?
If it was Melissa at all.
Hopefully, the Organization still thought she was dead and completely off their radar. Because the Organization’s radar was a deadly place to be—particularly for her.
But Bree saw no sign of them now. Even after searching for over thirty minutes, Bree found no evidence of a trap. She stayed where she was at the bookstore until she finally spotted Melissa going into the church right on time for their meeting. Her cousin didn’t look around, didn’t draw attention to herself in any way. Just did the smart thing and went straight in.
Bree stood at the window, coffee cup in hand, waiting to see if there would be further movement. She watched for light reflecting from the roofs of the surrounding buildings, a sign of a sniper. She looked for any hint that someone was surveilling the scene rather than performing their task at hand: turning pages too slowly or too quickly, or staring at a display stand for too long.
But...nothing. Nothing suspicious or out of place.
Bree finally went around to the alley so she could enter through the side door of the church. Still keeping an eye out for any problems, she moved silently through it, finding Melissa sitting in an empty, darkened corner near two possible exits. It was exactly where Bree would’ve chosen if she had gotten here first.
Since she was already in a church, Bree sent up a prayer that this wasn’t a trap and walked up to her cousin.
“Hi, Mellie.”
Melissa spun toward her, pure joy on her face. But it quickly faded. “You didn’t bring them.”
The twins. Of course she would want to see them. “It wasn’t safe. I wasn’t sure of the situation. I can’t move quickly enough with the two of them.”
Melissa wiped quickly at her eyes. “I know. That was smart, and the right thing to do. I’m just being emotional. But, God, Bree, I miss them so much.”
Bree could definitely understand that. Those two little humans had a way of entrenching themselves into anybody’s life. “They’re getting so big. They’re beautiful.” Bree winced when Melissa’s face fell even more—Bree was just making things worse. Meeting other people’s emotional needs wasn’t her forte. She tried to think of what might make her cousin feel better. “They’re healthy, Mel. Happy.”
“They’re safe?”
Safe was definitely a relative term. She thought of the eyes she’d felt on her in Risk Peak. And the possibility that the Organization could be ready to move in on them even now.
Bree shrugged. “As safe as they can possibly be, given how you and I live. The older couple watching Beth and Christian love them. If something happened to me, they would take care of them to the best of their ability.”
If Bree was better at personal stuff, she would probably pull her cousin in for a hug. But it would just be awkward for them both, so Bree quelled the urge.
Melissa wiped at tears again. “Thank you for taking them. I never planned to leave them alone with you—I thought I would be coming, too. I hope you’ve been all right.”
She thought of all the sleepless nights. The running out of money. The sheer exhaustion and despair that had seemed like a constant companion for the past two months. Telling Melissa about how hard it had been wouldn’t change anything. “We’ve managed.”
“I just wish I could see pictures of them, you know? That you and I could be like any two other relatives in the world, where you pull out your phone and show me pictures of the kids.”
They both knew that looking at pictures snapped on a smartphone would’ve been the worst possible thing they could do. It would lead the Organization right to them.
“Don’t worry, I know it’s impossible,” Melissa continued. “I would never want you to put them in danger like that. To put yourself in danger like that.”
“Is the Organization still capable of doing everything they were before?” It had been bad enough ten years ago when she’d escaped.
Melissa rubbed her forehead. “Worse and growing. They now have unfettered access to the pictures and sounds recorded on millions of phones. They’ve gotten smarter in the last ten years. Nobody suspects software that seems to make phones better.”
Most people accepted that Big Brother might possibly be listening when they called or video chatted with someone. But they never considered that their phone’s cameras and audio could still be transmitting even when they were in off mode.
That’s what the Organization had spent all their energy developing. Ways of using people’s phones when they weren’t aware of it. Basically creating a worldwide information network that they controlled and no one knew about.
Melissa grabbed Bree’s hand. “They finally figured out what they need to hack every phone on the planet. It’s software that on the surface will look like it enhances video and audio quality of all phones. No one will be able to hide once it goes into operation on the phones.”
This was worse than Bree thought. “But how are they gaining access to all the major phone manufacturers? They’ll have to do it at once, or the companies will start to ferret out what they’re doing.”
Melissa shook her head, looking at Bree with wonder. “I should’ve known you would grasp the ramifications from the beginning. The Organization was so mad when they lost you, Bree. You set them back years by not having your genius around anymore. They knew that.”
Bree just shook her head. If they’d had Bree around—controlled her and forced her to cooperate—the technological advances would’ve been astounding.
And all used for evil.
“The Organization doesn’t need to get to all the cellular manufacturers. They are all coming here,” Melissa continued. “To Denver.”
“The International Tech Symposium.”
“Yep. And guess who the sponsor is.”
“Communication for All,” Bree whispered.
The Organization was so much more insidious because of who the world thought they were—Communication for All, a charity focused on using technology to improve education and living conditions all over the world. And they did help millions of people.
But for a small core group of the charity, the endgame was far more nefarious than improving lives. They wanted to be able to control information. The charity front allowed them access and a lack of scrutiny that private companies would never be able to obtain.
Melissa shrugged. “Tech companies are so busy looking for malicious software, they just tend to overlook systems and software that makes their product better, especially when it comes from a world-renowned charity group. Plus, Communication for All is providing the new technology for free.”
Bree muttered a curse. “And being hailed as heroes.”
Melissa nodded. “All over the world. What’s worse is that the new software also serves as a virus. Once it’s uploaded to the manufacturers at the symposium, it will spread and download to every phone, regardless if people refuse to accept the update or not.”
Bree sucked in a breath. “They finally figured out the way to us
e people’s personal passwords to access their phones.” It had been something they were trying to force her to help do years ago.
Melissa nodded. “Once they’ve done it, no one will be able to hide from their networks unless they pay to do so. They’ll shelter whoever will pay their exorbitant fee and will be able to hunt whoever they desire.”
Bree rubbed her eyes. “Now that sounds more like the Organization we know and hate.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, both caught in a wave of despair.
“How did you keep them from finding out about the babies?” Bree finally asked.
“I was really sick early on in my pregnancy and didn’t start gaining much weight until my fifth month.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I followed your example. I got off the electronic grid completely. The Organization is convinced you’re dead, Bree. For years they searched for you, even though you wiped all the pictures of you and your mom from the system before you ran. Only in the last couple of years did they give up.”
“Why did they give up?”
Melissa shrugged. “I think they figured nobody living in this millennium could have resisted the lure of a smartphone or social media for that long. All they needed was one single picture on a smartphone, or even in the background of someone else’s social media, and that would’ve been it. They would’ve known you were alive and they would’ve never stopped hunting you.”
So her mother’s paranoia had kept them alive after all.
“What you did was brilliant,” Melissa continued.
Bree shrugged. “I’m not sure brilliant was the word for it.” Lonely. Nerve-racking. So damn hard.
“Whatever it was, it worked for you, so I decided to try it.” A sadness fell across Melissa’s face. “The Organization killed the twins’ father before I knew I was pregnant. I think they suspected I was going to make a move against them, and this was their way of letting me know they weren’t afraid to play hardball.” She swallowed rapidly.
“I’m so sorry, Mellie.”
“Me, too. I never got to say goodbye to him. They ran his car off the road and tried to act like they had nothing to do with it. They sent me an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers. That’s how I knew they were behind it. But you know what? It was the best thing they could’ve done. Because it reminded me that I could play hardball, too.”
There was a fire in her cousin’s eyes.
“The loss of my fiancé, Christian, ended up giving me the excuse I needed to take a few months off and get away from them.”
“Christian.” Bree couldn’t help but smile at the name.
Melissa’s smile was tinged with sadness. “Yes, he went by Chris, but his full name was Christian. I named the twins after the two people I love most in the world.”
Bree reached out and touched Melissa’s arm. It felt stiff and unnatural, but Melissa didn’t seem to mind.
“The Organization just let you go?”
“No, of course not. I kept working. But I did it from a remote location. They were tracking me to see if I would do something to hurt the company, not for anything as mundane as pregnancy. And that’s going to be their downfall—the fact that they’re so narrow and conceited in their focus.”
“They don’t understand the concept of family.” Neither did Bree, if she was honest.
Melissa nodded. “I used their information system against them. I didn’t have the babies in the hospital, and I made sure all social media and pictures from my phones created the narrative I wanted. One that gave no suggestion of their birth, just that I was grieving the death of my lover.”
“You outstrategized them.” Bree smiled and nodded. “Good for you.”
Melissa smiled. “I was never what you were. Never a prodigy. They tried to make me into you, but I was never good enough. You think like a computer, Bethany. I never did. My emotions got in my way.”
Bree knew her cousin meant the words as a compliment. But the knowledge that she was colder, harder, more machinelike tore at her, at a level she wasn’t really aware had existed before the babies came into her life.
She had feelings, too. They weren’t easy to process or express, but she had them.
“Once the Organization’s new system takes hold, it will be nearly impossible for you to hide,” Melissa said. “You’ve been so careful, but rumors are flying again that you’re still alive. You’re the ghost in their machine.”
Bree sighed. “I’ve been trying to poke at their system through a back door with the files you gave me. They shouldn’t have been able to tell it was me.”
“I’ve been covering for you as much as possible. Anything that looked like it was coming from Colorado, I rerouted, but I think they’re onto you, or me. I’m not sure which.”
Bree looked around at a phantom sound. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean no one was there. “Do you think someone followed you here?”
Melissa nodded. “I’m sure they did, but I bought us enough time to meet. I’ve made it common practice to duck into churches—it’s part of the narrative I’ve set up to help deceive the Organization. So they won’t find it uncommon for a while.”
Bree shook her head in wonder. Melissa might not have had the natural programming and coding skills Bree possessed, but the woman was brilliant in her own right, evident by the way she’d fooled the Organization these last few months.
“But that’s why I wanted to meet,” Melissa continued. “You haven’t been able to make much progress with the files, have you?”
“Unfortunately, taking care of two infants and working full-time has been taking up a lot of my attention.”
Melissa grabbed Bree’s hand and squeezed it, tears in her eyes once again. “Thank you, for all you’re doing. I wish it was me up all night with them. But you have to stop digging into the files. The Organization is too suspicious.”
“I’m trying to be as secretive as I can. I don’t think I’ve left any footprints that could be traced back to Risk Peak.”
Melissa squeezed her hand again. “That’s part of the problem. You’re too good. They know someone is attempting access but aren’t sure who or where. There aren’t many people in the world who can breeze in and out undetected the way you can.”
Bree was about to protest when Melissa’s next words stopped her. “Michael Jeter came to see me last week.”
Bree’s entire body stiffened at the mention of the head of Communication for All. He had been the one who had recruited Bree when she was a child, and he had made her life a living hell when she’d refused to cooperate.
“He came to see you personally?” That was never good.
Melissa rolled her eyes. “The official reason he gave was to offer condolences about Chris’s death, even though it was a year later. He wanted to make sure I was doing all right, since he knew I didn’t have any family.”
“But you didn’t buy it?”
“Not even for a second. He was there to fish out whether I was in touch with you. And then, as a ‘gift’—” Melissa put the word in air quotes “—they were giving me one of the first completely upgraded computer systems. They took mine without a word. If I’d had anything on there...”
She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. They hadn’t given Melissa any warning or time to erase anything on her hard drive. If her computer had contained any trace of communication with Bree, they would’ve known about it.
Michael Jeter showing up himself just confirmed how suspicious they really were.
“There was nothing on there that could’ve led them to me and the kids?”
“Nothing. This is the only thing I use to communicate with your phone.” She held out a phone that looked similar to Bree’s—old with no camera. “I tracked you using a public system outside the Organization. But once this new system goes live, the
y’ll find you, Bree. It will only be a matter of time.”
“Okay, I’ll work harder on the files you gave me.” She didn’t know how she would find the time and energy, but she would make it happen.
“No. That’s the opposite of what needs to happen. I’ll focus on the Organization files. You just keep off the grid and keep the kids safe.”
“But—”
Melissa’s phone buzzed in her hand.
“We’re out of time,” she said. “You need to get out right away. I’ll go out the front and draw them away. You go out the side.”
Bree grabbed Melissa’s hand. “Are you going to be able to decode the files before the summit? Especially with them watching you?”
“I have to. That’s all there is to it. Your job is to keep yourself and the babies safe. That’s the most important thing. Nobody knows about Risk Peak, so just stay there and stay out of it.”
Before Bree knew what was happening, Melissa pulled her in for a hug. Bree stiffened before forcing herself to relax into it. This was her cousin. They’d hugged each other as children. Melissa had been the only person who’d ever really befriended the stiff, difficult Bree.
“You’re doing a great job with the kids,” Melissa whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”
They pulled away from each other as a door slammed in the back.
“Mellie, be careful.”
“The twins are the only thing that matters. If something happens to me...”
Bree wasn’t going to offer useless platitudes. She nodded. “The twins are the only thing that matters,” she repeated. “I’ll make sure they’re safe, first and foremost.”
They squeezed each other’s hand, then Melissa’s phone buzzed again and she rushed toward the front door.
Bree kept to the shadows, moving faster when she heard a man’s voice talking on the phone in the hallway behind her, a priest saying something about communion for the next Mass. She crouched behind a pew and waited for the voice to move past, relieved when he didn’t seem to slow at all near her. She made her way to the side door she’d come in through.