“Despite all the questions that press heavily on us today, we must also make room for remembering the answers that we have, to the most important of questions about Vincent and Juliana. Were they loving people? Were they brilliant human beings with a vision for a better future? Would they answer the call for help? Yes, the answers are yes, to all. Please, do not walk from this place and time in grief. Do not do that to their memory. Instead, walk forward with the brilliant memories of who they were, so that they will always be just that. Do not drift away from Gerrit – for he is their legacy, the result of their love, and he will need you all. God bless you Vincent, and you, Juliana. Until we meet again.”
Shift.
A whispered message from a stranger at the wake. “Gerrit, make your own destiny. Be different and you’ll stay alive.” He figured it meant he shouldn’t be like his parents but couldn’t imagine why. Turning, he saw the stranger’s back as he walked towards the door. Johan started to follow only to be stopped by his grandfather. With a somber look, his grandfather guided him back to the buffet table and gave him a plateful of baby carrots and dip.
He’d avoided baby carrots ever since.
Chapter 7
A little learning is a dangerous thing, but a lot of ignorance is just as bad.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882, American Poet, Essayist)
A lizard climbed the sheer rock face, crested a peak, and took up position over the rock garden. It blinked and soaked in the morning sun. By Austin’s count, fourteen more basked on the rocks around it. He sat at a table under an umbrella and sipped his water, captivated by so many wild reptiles sharing their space with him. A brilliant blue swimming pool rivalled the sky. Asian Man sat close by in the shade of the pines and looked on. He now had a name, Meng. Clues to his personality had yet to surface but he was certainly aware of Austin’s every move and perhaps his every thought. The ankle bracelet still clung like an alien appendage, threatening and capping options.
The prior day had been half interview and half briefing. Powerful people sought Austin and his laptop – people that knew he’d been taken from the hospital and who were expecting an end-result, a communication. If they didn’t get it soon, complications were certain. This drove the need to begin Austin’s testing immediately. Just after dusk they had set out for a new location, a place described as more secure higher in the Sierras.
Departure had been simple, unceremonious.
“So we’ll meet again?” Austin asked.
“If the variables allow for it,” Edward replied. “I will say it is my sincere hope they do. Travel well.”
He and Meng arrived late in the evening at the house in the mountains, dropped off on the driveway. Crickets and bullfrogs sang in symphony from a nearby creek. An elderly housekeeper greeted them at the door and showed them to a room with two beds. He fell asleep almost immediately. Daybreak revealed a residence surrounded by a palisade of pines backed up against a steep forested hill.
His tester was due any moment. Questions and doubts rained, drowning confidence and mixing excitement with biting anxiety. These people lived differently. They existed in tune with powers they called natural but appeared anything but. They offered no apologies for being different, only acknowledging there was more to learn than society knew or could teach.
“Not so many of them today.”
Startled, he turned to find the voice above and behind him.
“Yesterday there were close to two dozen.” A wiry man appeared from between the trees. “They are drawn to the warmth of the rocks and I’m pretty sure the company.”
Completely bald and spa tan, he looked about sixty and wore dark sweat bottoms with a yellow t-shirt. He wore hiking shoes and looked to have just come down from the hill behind the house. Austin stood.
“Bonjour, je suis Marcel. Et vous êtes Austin.” His grip was that of a younger man’s. “Edward says you have unique natural ability and you want to explore it with us, yes? Well, it’s my job to make sure of a few things. First, that you really do want to join us and for the right reasons. Second, that you should. And third, that you can. Desire, fit, and ability. DFA testing.”
There was nothing to dislike about Marcel; he had a direct energy Austin immediately admired and wanted to emulate. “Fair enough.”
“Time is short, so we’ll begin. What’s your motivation to join us?”
“Is that a trick question? What better choice? They want to screw me into obscurity. Make me an example? I don’t know. Without help, they’ll nail me quick. How’s that for motivation?”
Marcel’s gray eyes studied him. “Alright, that’s a good chunk of it. Now dig a little deeper.”
“Deeper? What, I–”
“Don’t waste time covering. Deal with it. Why else do you want to join us?”
Marcel’s gaze drove him, forcing honesty. Right there, deep center, was another, far more selfish reason: the draw of the unknown, the draw to mystery and to power.
He could feel Marcel’s x-ray.
“Okay, sure. I’m drawn to the mystery. Have been all my life. It’s behind everything and explains how any of this,” he indicated the world around them, “could even exist. I know there are secrets to how it works. How everything and everyone in it is connected. You people know those secrets. I want to know, too. I want to fucking evolve.”
A screech from a circling hawk drew their eyes to the sky, drawing their attention.
“What of your father? And Kaiya? What will happen to them?”
“My dad can be cleared. The charges are bogus. Completely bogus. You have resources, you must. And you could pick up Kaiya right now, before she gets into more trouble.”
Marcel frowned. “No, Austin. I’m afraid the truth is right now your dad is nowhere to be found. The FBI reports that he escaped during transport. We don’t know where he is. Agent Payant took Kaiya to a CIA station house after we grabbed you. There was a shooting. They’re both wanted for murder and are on the run. And Kaiya’s mother is missing.”
Like a pile driver, Marcel’s words slammed home. In that moment, everything became wrong, all very wrong.
“That – that can’t be. No. No, this is insane. Totally insane.”
He recalled Mrs. Wilson’s expression as she warned his best efforts would fail Kaiya. His stomach turned.
“God damn.”
The hawk soared lower in the sky, circling. Thoughts of everyone he’d put in danger threatened to drown him in guilt, though in the shadows was memory of his dad’s behavior before the blast at the house. To see fear in his eyes was so wrong, so unlike him. What did he know to be afraid of? What kind of work had he done for the CIA?
Marcel still waited for the answer to why he wanted to join them. In truth, it wasn’t just desperation and the need for protection. He wanted the power to impact reality, to correct reality. To make things right with whatever tools were available. Stopping now would cut him off. Questions would go unanswered the rest of his life, though he’d have a stump to remind him of how close to the truth he’d gotten.
“Like I said, I want to know more about the mystery. How to control my part in it. More than anything I want safety for my dad and Kaiya and her mom. Right now I can’t do anything for them. Or myself.”
Marcel sat on the ledge of the rock garden and regarded him. “Is that all?”
“Yeah. I’m not a power monger or anything.”
Marcel smiled with perfect teeth. “No one ever is, but it is power that you seek, keep no illusions about that. C’est normal. However, you must realize that when you carry the secrets with you, you carry the seeds of great danger. Handled wrong, you could forfeit what safety they bring and destroy yourself and others. This is not a playground. You will come to understand what I mean, and no, don’t imagine you do now.”
Despite the warm morning, a chill ran down his spine.
Marcel continued. “So that is your desire, to join us. Next question: should you? The answer is partly yours and partly mine
to give. I’m going to ask a series of questions. Answer honestly or don’t answer at all.”
The hawk circled lower, visible between the trees.
“Austin, to save your life, would you kill someone?”
He could imagine it but it wasn’t pleasant. “Yes. I could.”
“Austin, are you trying to infiltrate the Korda?”
“No.” Korda...?
“A trusted member of the group has stolen secrets with the intent of selling them. You know the thief well, a close friend. You’ve tracked and trapped your friend and receive an absolute kill order. Do you kill your friend?”
Hardball. He thought quickly. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“On the assumption that in the wrong hands the secrets would hurt people. Innocents.”
Marcel barely nodded and began to lay out scenario after scenario, each measuring a different attribute or principle. He stopped trying to figure the point of every question and concentrated on providing honest answers.
He would be a fit or not.
• • •
“This can’t be happening. He’s lost his fucking mind.” Brodie looked up at the clock. “I want a profile to work from, anything to suggest what might’ve led up to this and where he may be headed next. Have it in my office within the hour.”
The director steamed while pacing the operations floor. Agents tracked Mac and Kaiya’s passage to the neighbor’s house. Forcing entry, they found the woman dead with multiple gunshot wounds.
“Anything on Yuni Wilson?”
“Nothing since they found her cell at the house.”
“What about the records search on Mac’s neighbor?”
“Helen Stewart. Two vehicle registrations in her name. A brown ‘92 Mazda and a white 2011 Toyota Camry. The Mazda’s missing. Preparing a priority BOLO for all NorCal agencies.”
Brodie’s gaze rested on a photo of Mac onscreen. There was nothing else he could do. Suppressing emotion, he said, “Write it for triple murder and coordinate it through FBI. Get it out ASAP. Multi-state. I want this to be the shortest manhunt in history.”
• • •
“Mac, slow up. We need to pull over.”
He looked over. “Why?”
“See that freeway sign ahead? Pull up three big bushes back.”
Mac did, his lips firming. “It’s here isn’t it? Not on highway 80.”
Kaiya nodded slightly. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “He told me in the hospital. In case something happened. He said it could be insurance and worth protecting. It’s buried at the base of that tree or maybe the one next to it.”
“Stay put.” Mac pulled the keys, suddenly wary of his passenger. He climbed out and ran into the thick shrubbery. In the light of early morning he spotted a disturbed patch of vegetation. The laptop came free easily.
Back in the Mazda he handed the bundle to Kaiya. “Okay, two things. One, you have to learn to trust me completely or I can’t rely on you. Second... that was a good first step, just now. Any more secrets?”
She shook her head.
“You sure? No more surprises? Okay.” He started the car. “Now let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”
The morning sun beamed past the open rollup doors where a wiry man stood working an arc welder. The grey hair and thick moustache were familiar to Mac.
“Steve,” he called out. “Long time no see.”
“Mac? Well I’ll be damned.” They shook hands. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How you been?”
“You know, life in the fast lane. Steve, this is Kaiya, a friend of mine. We’re taking a little vacation and Helen lent us her keys to the Coachman. I forgot to call you to make sure you didn’t have plans for it.”
“No, no, go ahead. Hell, I’m so backed up vacation ain’t in my vocabulary. The rig ain’t been off the lot since last Christmas. I just need to drop in a couple good batteries and it’ll be ready for the road. You’ll want to fix ‘er with some new gas, but she’ll get you down the road. Gonna tow the car?”
“Yeah, we’re bringing it along.”
“Well, let’s get you two set up.”
Steve unracked two batteries, hefted one to Mac, and led them through a door to the back lot. Mac wore his trunking police scanner on his belt with the earpiece in his left ear. Steve noticed it and asked, “You aren’t using this on some stakeout are ya? Heh, ‘cause I’d hate to see ‘er get shot up!” He laughed.
“No, this is strictly a getaway.”
Kaiya made a wry face when Steve wasn’t looking.
He watched Steve screw down the bolts on the batteries. Traffic on the scanner caught his ear. An all-points bulletin issued for the Mazda included its color and license plate number as well as descriptions of them both. Armed and dangerous fugitives, wanted for triple murder.
His heart fell. Helen? A sudden rage threatened. He clamped down hard, delaying emotion. Steve would help the authorities once he heard. No doubt it would make the news.
He sent Kaiya into the camper to look around and joined Steve as he pulled the tow hitch from a storage compartment.
“Steve, I lied. Things are not at all okay, they are going very bad.”
The mechanic looked up at Mac, suddenly wary.
“Listen closely: you know me, I’m a CIA lifer, been playing by the book since day one. Kaiya is a protected witness, or was supposed to be. I interrupted two agents roughing her up. I stepped in and a goddamn firefight went down. Two agents are dead.” He put up a hand at Steve’s look. “I know, but it’s a long story and I don’t have time. We’re on the run. I just heard on the radio we’re wanted for triple murder. Steve, I think they killed Helen.”
Steve looked ready to lay Mac out. “Killed her? Now why the fuck would the CIA kill Helen?”
“I don’t know they did, Steve. I just heard the traffic. I don’t know who else the third person could be. As for why, I can tell you it involves a top-secret computer file but beyond that none of it makes sense. Listen Steve, I’m going to dump the Mazda not far from here. I need your help. No matter what you hear or are told, we did not hurt Helen.” He touched the rim of his hat. “Frank’s, given with blessings for a safe journey. You have my word, I’m telling you the truth. If they did kill Helen, don’t let it be for nothing. She wanted us to get away.”
Long moments of grilling eye contact resolved Steve’s mind. Trust had always been a currency between them.
“Then get going. But if I ever figger you did kill her, I’ll hunt you down myself. Believe that, Mac. Believe it.”
Mac steered the thirty-foot Coachman out of the lot onto the frontage road. He’d told Kaiya about the bulletin and the mention of the Mazda but left it as a ‘double’ murder. He’d just talked about honesty and trust, but if she heard they were killing old women she might come unglued.
Even so, Kaiya struggled to keep her cool.
“That means they went to Helen’s. They’ll know we picked this up.”
He shook his head. “No, the bulletin didn’t say anything about the RV. Helen wouldn’t tell them anything if she had her choice. This thing isn’t registered in her name anymore so they shouldn’t know about it. I spoke with Steve. He won’t talk. Relax a bit.”
“Riiight. Relax.” Despite the remark, it looked like she would try to. Wanted to, at least.
In an industrial area a mile away they uncoupled the Mazda, stowed the tow bar, and left the keys on its roof. He chose a surface street that he hoped would get them out of the city and into the foothills without being stopped.
Chapter 8
Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are
is to get to that place where you don’t have to be anything else.
- Source unknown
Austin stared at a tree-covered ridgeline in the distance. Blue sky capped the high altitude beauty. To the south, gray-white plumes from the fires fed a hazy skyline. What should have been a relaxing view was clouded by uncertainty. Reality had become slippery and levels deeper
than he’d imagined.
He sat with Marcel and Meng under the shade of the table umbrella by the pool. Marcel said he would share things that would shed light on the big picture and offer a better understanding.
“How well you adapt to change will influence your overall progress. In my experience, the more you trust me, the more rapidly it goes. How are you doing with trust?”
“Besides this,” he flicked the bracelet attached to his ankle, “I’m doing okay.”
Marcel nodded. “In time.” He stood up and walked over to the lizards. “Before we start, Edward mentioned you have a story. Something about the wind?”
“Hm. Yes. A story.”
“True story?”
“True as I understand it.”
Marcel knelt by the rocks. “It means a lot to you. I’d be honored if you’d share it.”
Again he found it easy to like the Frenchman. “On one condition. That you explain it when I’m done.”
Marcel agreed. “I’ll do my best.”
“I was thirteen and was going to try out for a swim team. Of course I had to wear a speed-o swim suit but I had a farmer tan from wearing skater shorts. I didn’t want to look ridiculous so I laid out to get a tan, hoping to bring up the color evenly. There I was, in the early April sun, chilled by a steady breeze. At some point I wondered if the wind was slowing the tanning process. So, desperate as I was, I started imagining the earth in a cartoon sort of way, with big exaggerated clouds coming in from the ocean and blowing over California. Do you know the old Schoolhouse Rock cartoons? No?” Meng nodded. “Well it was like a scene from that. Anyway, I imagined a big hand pressing down on the clouds to stem the flow. I was so caught up in the cartoon it took a long time before I realized the winds had actually stopped.”
Marcel stood and returned to the table, still listening.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s the same thing I thought at first: just coincidence. But it wasn’t just the wind dying. At that moment I felt... extraordinarily calm. I’m talking unnatural, deep-seated peace, like nothing I’d felt before. I stayed like that for twenty or thirty seconds until my own amazement got in the way. The wind had stopped.
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