by Mike Ryan
“What exactly are you afraid of, son?” the sixty year old man said.
Recker looked at the man and winced, not really sure it was a good idea to reveal anything to him and get him involved. But without any other good options, and with time running short, he gave a deep sigh and figured it was worth a shot or a last-ditch effort.
“Well, I’m not a so called bad guy. I’m on the side of the good and the innocent,” Recker said. “But the police and I have extremely different ways of going about the way we protect people.”
“So, they’d likely lock you up, huh?”
“And throw away the key most likely.”
“That’s a predicament, isn’t it?”
“You heard of the guy who has been running around the city the last few years? The Silencer?” Recker asked.
“The guy who goes around helping people and getting rid of thugs and criminals?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” the gentleman said.
“Well, you’re looking at him.”
“You’re The Silencer?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Can we go yet?” the woman customer asked, tired of waiting for their conversation to end.
“Just hold it a cotton-picking minute,” the worker said.
Recker smiled at him, thinking he seemed like an all right kind of guy.
“Hold on, we’ll get you out of here, son,” the worker said.
“Now I’m not going to do anything which will put you in danger, even if it means me having to stay here and take my lumps with the police,” Recker said.
“No, no. Come with me. You ladies stay right there for a second,” the worker said.
The elderly man led Recker into the back storeroom and to an exit door leading to the rear of the building where the trash dumpster was kept. As they walked, the police were yelling into the store via a megaphone to see what the situation was, not knowing whether any of the would-be robbers were still inside, or how much of a danger it was. Recker was about to push the door open and see what the situation was out there until the store worker stopped him.
“Just hold up there, young fella,” he said. “There’s an alarm box on the side here. If I don’t disarm it and put the code in, there’s gonna be a loud obnoxious sound that’ll be heard around the block.”
The elderly man walked over to the alarm box and put the code in to disarm the door, then Recker gently pushed it open just a hair, looking out into the alley behind the store. Recker was disappointed, but not surprised, to see there were police cars lined up at both ends of the block. They would cut off his escape route and throw his plan out the window. He closed the door again and the man put the code back in to arm the door once again. Thinking there was nothing else to do but give himself up and take his chances with the law, the store worker had one more idea to try. The man looked up at the ceiling and put his hand on Recker’s forearm to stop him from going back to the front of the store.
“There’s your only hope now,” the man said, pointing to a ladder on the wall leading up to the circular roof hatch.
“Where’s it go?” Recker said.
“Just up to the roof. The only people who use it are roofers, or the heating and air conditioning people.”
“Guess it’s as good a shot as any.”
“Hold on, let me disarm the alarm again.”
Recker scurried over to the wall and started climbing the ladder. He got about halfway up before he stopped and looked down at the elderly man.
“Hey, thanks for the help,” Recker said, appreciative of the man’s efforts in aiding his escape.
“No problem. Keep on what you’re doing. And thanks for the assist out there.”
“I’ll keep a special eye out for you.”
Recker continued his climb up the ladder and pushed the roof hatch open. If it’d been a little later than it was, he might’ve been concerned about SWAT team snipers picking him off once he got up there, but even if they’d been called, they didn’t have enough time to get there already and set up. Once Recker stood on the roof and looked around, it was actually a perfect scenario. As he stood there, he wasn’t visible from the street, as the edges of the store walls extended up past the rooftop, creating some cover for Recker’s movements. Each store on the street had connecting walls to the business next to it so Recker quickly climbed over the wall onto the roof of the next store. He wasn’t sure how far he’d have to go, or how he’d get down, but for now, it seemed like a good escape.
The jewelry store worker waited three or four minutes until him and the two female customers made their way outside into the waiting arms of the police. He figured it was what Recker needed to slip away. Once the police swept the store and started questioning everybody and figured out what happened, Recker would be long gone. Recker wasn’t really concerned with anyone knowing he was there anyway. Once Recker got to the end of the block, he used some piping, gutters, and ledges to climb himself down the side of the building. The police didn’t block off the entire back alley since it’d be too long an area to partition, and instead only blocked off a few stores down from the jewelry store in both directions. Recker walked around to the front of the building and started walking back up the street to get in his car. But there was heavy police activity all around and they weren’t too far from his vehicle, so he figured it was best to leave it for the time being. The last thing he needed now was to be spotted and get into a police pursuit. He’d have to come back for it another time. He called Jones to let him know the task was completed and he needed a ride out of there.
“What was the score?” Jones said.
“Good guys four, bad guys nothing,” Recker said.
11
Lawson and her team were up early to discuss their different options on finding Recker. They got started right around 6am as they gathered in one of the hotel rooms. Lawson’s phone rang only a few minutes later to inform her of the details of the jewelry store incident from the night before. It was Deputy Commissioner King who told her of the incident, hoping it could maybe help them in their search for the wanted man. After a brief conversation with her counterpart, Lawson thanked him for the information then got back to her team and started brainstorming. She explained to them what happened at the jewelry store as it was explained to her.
“OK, so he’s obviously getting some inside intel somehow,” Lawson said. “How is he figuring out how these crimes are going to happen? He’s there ahead of time, waiting for the criminals to get there. He’s obviously got something in place. Some kind of system.”
“Here’s a far out, off the wall theory,” one of her assistants said. “What if he sets up these crimes, recruits criminals to pull the job off, then stops it before it happens or just after it happens so he looks like the knight in shining armor?”
“It’s an awful lot of trouble to go through without getting anything in return,” Lawson said. “I mean, he’s not getting money or anything from this stuff.”
“He’s getting notoriety. Maybe that’s what he wants.”
“You don’t disappear from the CIA just to go to a big city and build up a reputation,” Lawson said. “No, notoriety is the last thing he wants. Besides, it doesn’t fit his profile. He’s a low-key guy. He’s not after fame or fortune. I think he genuinely is trying to do good things.”
Another of Lawson’s assistants chimed in with his thoughts. “Well, if it’s not the notoriety, which I think we all can agree it’s probably not, then we need to focus on how he’s getting this information. What if all these people he’s stopping are part of the same underground criminal network? They have a leader who dispatches them on these jobs and Smith has a beat on them, maybe an informant who spills what they know to him.”
Lawson thought it over for a minute, but by the grimace on her face, wasn’t sold on the idea. “I don’t know, I have a hard time believing every crime he’s stopped is from the same network. I mean, don’t you think after a few ti
mes they would’ve shored things up if they felt there was a leak?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“If the group had any brains, after the third or fourth time, they would’ve completely dismantled their system.”
“True. That leaves only one other possibility then.”
“Which is?” Lawson asked.
“He’s getting the information straight from these criminals. It’s not like these people are going on message boards on the internet and declaring publicly what crimes they’re gonna do. He’s somehow getting into their phones, their computers, their emails, something telling him what’s going on.”
Lawson paraded around the room as she thought. She not only believed it was as good a theory as they were going to come up with, she actually thought it might not be too far from the truth.
“OK, so let’s say that’s the case,” Lawson said, looking around her team. “He still needs to find a way to do it. There’s nothing in his background suggests he could do something like this on his own. It can only mean he has help.”
“Not only that, but it’d have to be a sophisticated system,” one of the analysts said. “Unless he’s just got a list of criminals and getting into their computers remotely, he’d have to come up with something very technologically advanced to pull this information out of the air.”
“But you think it is possible?”
“Sure. If he’s found a way to hack into the infrastructure of say...emails, for example, he could have certain words or phrases plucked out and send him an alert, or maybe even a copy of the email.”
“It would require a lot of time to create a system like that,” Lawson said.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if we do assume he’s not in this alone, then it’s possible his partner, or partners, are computer whizzes. Maybe, they take care of the information gathering, sorting it out, Smith goes out in the street and does what needs to be done.”
“Possible.”
“In any case, there are software programs already in place,” the analyst said. “The NSA has been using hacking programs for emails, cell phones, computers, and surveillance systems for years. So, it’s not necessarily a new concept.”
“It’s a new concept for someone who would now be called a civilian…albeit a very dangerous one.”
“But not if he’s hooked up with someone. And if this is how he’s getting his info, hacking emails and such, then he’s got someone with some serious skills.”
“How many people outside the NSA would know how to do things like that?” Lawson said.
“There are some people who probably could. It’d take a long time to perfect a system and for it to go undetected. But there are some people, hacktivist groups, things like that who could probably create something. Or he’s got someone who used to work for the NSA who’s already familiar with and knows the system.”
“We could be veering a little bit off course here. Let’s first figure out how to apprehend Smith, then we can figure out his infrastructure afterwards.”
“How about we set some type of trap for him?” the analyst asked.
“What do you have in mind?”
“If we assume we’re right and he’s got some type of hacking program, then let’s set up some fake accounts and emails and see if we can set something up for him.”
Lawson nodded, thinking it just might work. “How long would it take you to do something like that?”
“Probably a good part of the day. If his intel is as good and as deep as we think it is, you can be sure they do a good background check on their victims before they target them. We’ll have to set up emails, some false identities, background info, create criminal histories and the like. It’s gonna have to be detailed and look authentic,” the analyst said. “’Cause if he’s got a computer guy and he’s as good as we think he is, he’s double and triple checking this stuff. They’re not gonna make a move on anything until they’re absolutely sure it’s legit.”
“OK. Do it,” Lawson said. “Make it good. Take as much time as you need to get it right. ‘Cause one thing’s for sure, we might not get another crack at this. If they realize it’s us and we’re setting a trap, the door is closing and we’re never getting it open again.”
As Lawson and her team started creating false identities and documents to set their trap, Recker and Jones continued working as they usually did, completely unaware of the impending danger they were about to face. During the early morning commute, Jones took Recker back down to the area of the jewelry store so he could pick his car back up. Once they did that, they went back to the office to figure out their next steps. Though Jones headed straight there to begin working, Recker stopped for breakfast for them both. When he got back, Jones had the television on and was watching the news. Recker didn’t really need to say anything since he noticed the jewelry store in the background of the reporter who was on camera.
“I take it they’re discussing last night’s events?” Recker asked.
“Astute observation.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I guess it would depend on your definition of interesting,” Jones said.
“Was my name mentioned?”
“Oh yes. The witnesses in the store positively identified you to both the police and the media.”
“Well, like I told you, without the store clerk I don’t know if I would’ve made it out of there. That reporter could’ve been standing outside of the police precinct talking about my capture.”
“I know. I guess it’s something to be thankful for. But regardless, in the beginning of the broadcast they plastered your picture on the screen the police released the other day. You know as well as I do the CIA is getting wind of this right now.”
“Probably.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Jones solemnly asked.
Recker shrugged. “I don’t think my position has changed any.”
“You know they’re coming.”
“Yeah,” Recker sighed.
“Then why do you insist on staying here?”
“I dunno. I guess running doesn’t have much appeal to me. I’ve never been someone who likes to hide somewhere.”
“I know that. But if we don’t do something, then we both know at some point, they will find you.”
“You know, when I was waiting at the jewelry store, I was thinking maybe it’d be smart if you started looking at some other candidates,” Recker said.
“What?”
“Well, in case I get locked up or killed, it’s gonna take a while before you can get someone else acclimated.”
“Well how about if we don’t let it come to that and pack up and move somewhere else?” Jones asked, pressing home his point from their previous discussions.
“David, the only one in the hot seat is me. You don’t need to continually pack up and move every couple years. While I’m around, the CIA is a threat. Always will be. Do you really want to move every time there’s a threat?”
“Of course not, but…”
“The more times you move, the more likely it is you’re gonna make a mistake somewhere along the way.”
“Well I disagree there,” Jones said, trying not to boast about his skills.
“If you have to move to a new place, this isn’t exactly a simple operation which can be put up and taken down at the snap of a finger,” Recker said. “You have to learn the people, contacts, everything starts all over again. Mistakes will get made trying to get familiar with everything.”
“Perhaps. But it’s better than the alternative of just sitting here and waiting for you to get placed in a body bag.”
“There’s only so many times you can move.”
“The world’s a big place, Michael. There are infinite possibilities.”
“Even if that’s so, and even if the CIA never finds me, have you given thought about bringing another person on board?”
“To work alongside of us?” Jo
nes asked, a little surprised at the question.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. It’s an interesting proposition. It may have crossed my mind a time or two over the years but I can’t say I have really given it much thought. Not seriously anyway.”
“Maybe it’s time you gave it some thought. Seriously.”
“Why? Do you feel you’re overworked or overwhelmed at times?”
“No, but the more people we got out there, the more people we can help,” Recker said. “There are times when more bodies would make us more effective.”
“But also, more people to worry about.”
“We could make it work. Take tonight for instance. It was just me against four. If I had someone who could do what I do, then I could’ve taken two, and he could’ve taken two. Then the job would’ve been done a lot faster and I wouldn’t have had to do my Houdini act at the end to escape.”
“I guess there’s a good point in there.”
“I try to make them every now and then.”
“Yes, though I wonder if you’re suggesting it because you feel it’s actually a good idea and you would like the help, or because you feel like your time is coming to an end and you don’t want to leave me shorthanded.”
Recker didn’t bother to respond and just shrugged, heading over to a computer to work on some things. They had nothing else to work on according to Jones and he figured he’d try to find out anything else he could in regard to the CIA breathing down their necks. Jones periodically glanced over to his friend, a little concerned over his state of mind. He knew Recker wasn’t one who scared easily, or someone who ran from a fight, but Jones just didn’t get why he wasn’t more interested in getting out of there with the conditions as they were. It didn’t seem like Recker was giving up or anything, but Jones just felt like he should have been more willing to consider other alternatives besides staying there and slugging it out with the secretive government agency. Recker certainly didn’t appear to be someone with a death wish. But his motivations for doing anything weren’t always clear.