The 13: Fall

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  She looked at him sourly.

  “No, I’m serious,” he laughed. “I’ve never heard that. You would think with my last name, someone would’ve used it before. Never heard it.”

  “Glad I could amuse you.”

  “Hey, look. I’m not trying to be confrontational here. I’m just saying. Jeez, lighten up, Taylor. It’s no wonder no one likes working with you.”

  Taylor whirled around on him. “What! Where did you hear that? I’ll have you know, I get along with everyone! And in my job, I don’t work with anyone because my work doesn’t require me to!”

  Keene didn’t know anything about her. But he was finding out everything he wanted right now.

  CIA operatives are taught many things; one of the first things is how to read people. Information can be elicited just by introducing certain topics to a conversation without ever asking a direct question. And right now, Keene was confirming what he already knew. This Taylor was a close-kept, smart woman who wasn’t afraid to mix it up with anyone. Maybe he was going to like her after all.

  “Look,” Keene said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  He stuck his hand out to her.

  “My name’s Jon Keene, CIA.”

  She looked at the offered hand and took it reluctantly.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Taylor. First of all, I’m not too excited about you and this chapy being on my team.”

  “Chapy?”

  Keene blew out a big sigh. “Doesn’t anyone know what a military preacher is called? Chaplain, chapy. Whatever! I mean, I don’t even go to church and I know this!”

  Taylor didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I know you aren’t crazy about working with me, either. But that doesn’t change the fact that Grant has us together. So here’s the deal. In my line of work, you get paired with someone, you don’t trust him with anything. ‘Cause if you do, you usually end up getting burned. I trust my boss, Jennings. And that’s about it. And he tells me I have to trust you and this chapy. So whatever. We’re here, and that’s that. Any questions?”

  “Just one,” she said. “I don’t remember Grant putting you in charge.”

  “That wasn’t a question.”

  “Okay. How ‘bout this. Are you going to be a pain my rear end the whole time we’re working together?”

  Keene smiled as he pulled the car into the alleyway. He watched as Taylor unbuckled her seat belt and reached behind her and pulled out her gun. She checked her magazine, put it back in, and then racked the slide. She put it back in the holster and looked at him.

  “So who we going to see?” she said with an impatient look.

  “Planning on shooting someone?”

  “I thought all you CIA boys liked to play with guns.”

  Keene reached back and pulled out his own weapon, repeated the same process she just had and said, “Only when they won’t give us grenades. Let’s go.”

  He opened the door and got out. He watched as she bent down and unnecessarily tightened the laces on her shoes, giving herself a few seconds to visually sweep the area. Maybe she wasn’t just a computer geek, he thought. She at least had some sense about her. He was starting to like this girl. Even if he didn’t like the situation. He decided she was okay.

  “Don’t worry, Taylor,” he tried to assure her. “If I thought someone was going to come out gunning for us, I wouldn’t have brought you.”

  That was a lie. This area of town was not the kind of place that anyone wanted to be. Including the people who lived here.

  He was actually kind of glad he had seen Taylor check her gun and her reaction when she stepped out of the truck. For all he knew, the guy they were here to see … was probably going to answer the door with his own gun.

  Now all he had to do was try not to get her killed.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Prophet finished his sandwich and tea. He left the cup and plate on the table. He had wanted to wait until lunch to actually eat. But after the small breakfast so early in the morning and his system slowly coming around to the idea of solid food again, it wasn’t long before his insides felt like they were trying to eat themselves. Figuring the effects of the fast were quickly subsiding, he allowed himself to eat the sandwich.

  This time his body quickly responded with a burst of energy. He no longer felt weak and lethargic. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins. He felt alive! He grabbed his coat and hat and stepped out of the small apartment.

  Chicago was unusually cool for this time of year. Just last week, they had had a cold front drop in from Canada, and the temperature had dropped back down into the sixties. You never knew what you were going to get in the Windy City.

  It was three blocks to the train station and then a twenty-minute ride into the city. It would give him time to read the papers and see what everyone was saying. He had to admit, he was curious to see how the people would take it.

  He passed by a newsstand on the corner and picked up the New York Times, the Chicago Sun-Times, USA Today, and two tabloids. He tossed the attendant a twenty-dollar bill and told him to keep the change. He pulled his jacket collar up and kept walking.

  On the train, he found a seat in the back and lay the papers down beside him. He got situated and grabbed the top one, the Times. The headline was: “President Grant’s Health-Care Bomb: Pipe Dream?” He continued thumbing through them, sure that something would be there. But there was nothing. Why was the president still ignoring him? He didn’t understand.

  When he was chosen and told to do this, he was told President Grant was a good man, one who loved his God and his country. That he understood America had changed and was far from what her forefathers had intended her to be. Why, then, would he not listen?

  The train stopped and he got out. He walked a few blocks over and entered a diner. His appetite was coming back with a vengeance. He sat down, ordered some coffee and a sandwich, as he continued to try and think about what was happening. He didn’t understand. But he would do as he was told.

  He was more saddened than anything. He knew what was coming. He had been told. And it broke his heart. It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a hoax. And unless the president took his warnings seriously, it definitely wasn’t going to be stopped.

  CHAPTER 14

  Who did you say this is?” Taylor asked, falling in behind her new partner.

  “I didn’t,” Keene said.

  They made their way around back to a metal door. Taylor continued to look around as Keene rapped his knuckles on the big steel frame. The fact that he had his other hand behind him, his fingers lightly resting on the gun tucked in his waistband, was not comforting to her. She quickly did the same.

  “Open up, Artie!” Keene shouted. “I know you’re in there!”

  A few seconds passed and then a muffled voice.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s your mom!” Keene shouted back. “Open up or I’ll kick it in!”

  The sound of several latches could be heard on the other side of the door. Then it opened up a few inches, still attached to a chain.

  “Aw, man!” the squeaky voice said. “C’mon, Keene. What do you want?”

  Apparently, Taylor thought, she wasn’t the only one Keene had this effect on.

  “Open the door.”

  The door opened and a skinny man with a scraggly beard stood there. He wore an open bathrobe and slippers; underneath he sported a T-shirt with a picture of a Commodore 64 computer on it that read Old School. His Nike gym shorts were baggy, and his legs looked like toothpicks sticking out from them.

  Taylor laughed and pointed at his shirt. “My dad had one of those.”

  “Got one in the back,” Artie said proudly. “Still play some of the old games on it.”

  Inside, the door gave way into a dimly lit open space. It looked like a warehouse, but given the décor—what little there was—it was obvious Artie lived there.

  “I guess you can come on in,” Artie
said as Taylor watched Keene push his way past the little man.

  “This is Taylor,” Keene said. “She’s with the FBI.”

  “Aw, man,” Artie said incredulously. “What’s wrong with you? How you gonna bring FBI in here, bro? I thought we were boys.”

  “Artie,” Keene said, “you’re a computer hacker and a lifelong criminal. I’m a government agent. We aren’t, nor have we ever been, boys.”

  “C’mon,” Artie said. “Why you busting my chops? I ain’t done nothing.”

  “That’s exactly why we’re here.”

  “What?” Artie stared at them with a confused look. Taylor got the joke.

  “Double negative. Ain’t done nothing. Means you have done something.”

  Artie looked even more confused.

  “You’re not that bright. Are you?” Taylor said.

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Keene said. “Artie here’s smarter than he looks. And he’s got a lot of cool toys.”

  “Yeah, so?” Artie said defensively. “Ain’t no law against having computer equipment.”

  “Yeah,” Taylor said, “but what do you do with all this computer equipment?”

  “None of your business, lady,” Artie snapped.

  “You better watch it,” Keene warned. “She’s not playing. If she shoots you, I’ll just say you drew down on her.”

  “Oh yeah, right! With what? My finger?”

  “No,” Taylor said. “With that .38 you got tucked in your shorts.”

  She could see Keene grinning out of the corner of her eye; she had just impressed him. But even a first-year probationary agent would have noticed the bulge in the small of Artie’s back, under the robe, when they came in.

  “Look,” Artie said. “I haven’t done anything. What do you guys want?”

  “That’s a good question,” Taylor said. “What do we want, Keene?”

  “Well,” Keene said, “like I said. Artie’s got a lot of cool toys. Thought he might want to help us out with that video.”

  Taylor grabbed Keene by the arm and led him away from Artie. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she said, fuming mad. “What in the world are you doing!”

  “Relax,” he said casually.

  “Relax? Did you not hear President Grant? We can’t show this criminal that video.”

  “Calm down. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you why we were coming here. But do you think I’m a complete idiot? Do you think I would risk showing this thing to anyone if I thought it was going to get out before we knew what was going on?”

  Taylor just looked at him. She had to assume he could at least be trusted. She hoped.

  “And what do you suppose this guy is going to be able to help us with?” she asked. “I have all the same gear back at the Bureau. We could’ve just stayed there.”

  “Yes, we could have,” Keene said. “And what if someone came by asking what we were doing? What if someone else is monitoring your station? I’ve been around enough stuff like this to know you don’t just drop off letters to the Oval Office unnoticed. You don’t just hack into the president’s private e-mail.”

  “Are you suggesting that someone on the inside is helping this guy?”

  “Don’t know. But until we do, we can’t take a chance that anyone other than us knows about this.”

  “And, apparently, Artie.”

  Keene let out a laugh. “Trust me. This guy has skills. If there’s anything on that video you want to look at, he can find it.”

  She wasn’t happy about it, but she knew he was right. And until they discovered if and who, they needed to stay under the radar.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll do it your way.”

  Keene nodded and stepped away. But she grabbed him by the arm one more time.

  “But if this comes back to bite me in the rear end, I’m gonna have your head on a stick!”

  She followed Keene back over to where Artie was waiting.

  “We’re going to show you a video,” Keene said. “I want you to tell me what you see.”

  “What kind of video?” Artie asked.

  “The kind that can get you killed if you ever talk about it,” Taylor said.

  “Then I’d rather not,” Artie said.

  “Shut up and sit down,” Keene said, grabbing the frail man by the shoulders. He pushed him into the next room and down into the chair sitting in front of a wall of computer towers and monitors.

  “Welcome to my lair,” Artie said, looking at Taylor.

  She had to admit, she was impressed. She was familiar with every piece of gear sitting here and had most of it in her office. She handed him the thumb drive and said, “It’s the only thing on there.”

  Artie pushed the thumb drive in and began to click around on the keyboard. Instantly the video appeared. Keene reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him from pushing PLAY.

  “No audio. Just watch.”

  “Man, c’mon!” Artie protested. “You asked for my help. Remember?”

  “Just watch,” Keene said again.

  Artie muted the audio output and pushed PLAY. Once again the video of the man sitting on the stool played.

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing, man. Just some dude on a stool with a bandana on his face. What am I looking for?”

  “Can you tell me where this was filmed?”

  “Universal Studios,” Artie said sarcastically. “Seriously! How am I supposed to know that?”

  “Look around. Anything there that can identify where this is?”

  Artie froze the image and studied it for a few minutes. “Man, I’ve got nothing.”

  “There’s something,” Keene said.

  “There’s nothing! Dude’s in a room, on a stool, with computer monitors behind him. What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to tell me if there’s anything in there that tells me where this guy is.”

  “Maybe if I could hear the audio.”

  “How?” Keene asked.

  “Because you can filter out noises and isolate others,” Taylor said. “And that may give us something.”

  “Okay,” Keene said. “Do it.”

  “Keene!”

  “It was your idea,” Keene said.

  “Yeah, so take Artie out for some ice cream, and I’ll do it.”

  “No way,” Artie protested. “No one touches my gear ‘cept me.”

  “Trust me,” Keene said. “Artie has helped me before. He may not be the best law-abiding citizen out there, but he’s solid. We can trust him.”

  Taylor hoped she didn’t live to regret this. “Okay. But you’re on the hook for this.”

  “You hear that?” Keene said to Artie. “That means that if you burn me on this, I’m going to come back here and shoot you.”

  “You worry too much,” Artie said.

  Keene spun the small man around in his chair so they were eye to eye.

  “Artie,” he said in a menacing voice, “I’m serious. This is national security stuff. You even open your mouth to your dog—me, or someone like me, will show up here and kill you. You understand?”

  Artie swallowed hard. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Not a peep.”

  “Go ahead,” Keene said, spinning him back around to face the computer.

  Artie reset the play head and started the clip again. This time the Prophet’s words echoed through the open room. When it was finished, Artie started tapping away.

  “Man, you weren’t kidding, huh? This is like some terrorist stuff, right?” He held up his hand. “I know. I know. Not a peep.”

  Artie tapped away again on the keyboard. Taylor watched him bring up an audio shelving software, complete with compressor and graphic equalizer plugins. She had an app very similar to this—but this one looked like it had a few more bells and whistles.

  “Okay,” Artie said when he was done pointing and clicking. “What I’ve done here is, I’ve muted the dude’s voice and opened up some bandwidth that should allow us to hear the surrounding sounds
. If there’s anything going on, we should be able to hear it.”

  This time the video played and the Prophet’s voice was silent. In its place, a myriad of noises could be heard in the background. They listened through once without anything jumping out. They played it again. And then again a third time. Halfway through, Taylor spoke up.

  “Right there! Stop,” she said. “What was that?”

  “What?” Artie asked.

  “That dinging sound. Back it up.”

  He did and then played it again.

  “There!” she said. “Can you isolate that?”

  “I think so,” Artie said, tapping away at the keys. He rolled it back and played it again.

  “That’s it.”

  “That’s what?” Keene asked.

  “That’s a train,” she said smiling.

  “Oh … okay,” Keene said. “Yeah, that helps a lot.”

  “Isolate it,” she said, dismissing his tone.

  “That’s going to be tough,” Artie said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Maybe for you. Move over and I’ll do it.”

  Artie smacked her hand away. “Like I said. No one touches my gear but me. Give me a second.”

  He clicked a few more buttons and played it again. The train’s audio now came to the forefront.

  “That’s good,” she said. Then, “Roll it back again. See if you can hear anything before that.”

  Artie did and started the video again, with the current filters in place. A lot of screeching and clanging was heard, but there was also something else.

  “Right there!” Taylor said again.

  “Yeah, I heard that, too,” Artie said. “Let me see if I can clean it up.”

  Again, he tapped away for a few seconds. Pushed PLAY.

  A computerized voice could be heard over what apparently was a PA-system announcement. And now, after all the shelving of the frequencies, they could hear what the female voice was saying:

  “The train is approaching. Please stand clear of the platform.”

  After that came another succession of screeches and clangs. A train was coming to a stop.

  “Hey can you boost that?” Taylor said hurriedly.