by David Archer
6
Stony: Herman, are you here?
Herman: I'm here. You're right on time.
Stony: look, this isn't easy for me. The trouble is, no matter how I look at it, I can't let things go on the way they are.
Herman: I can imagine. And I really do understand, but things like this have to be dealt with.
Stony: yeah. I know, but it's still not easy. I need to send you some files, do you have a secure protocol we can use?
Herman: give me a minute. Let me see what I can work out.
A couple of minutes passed before Herman came back. Gary was starting to get nervous, but then:
Herman: okay, I hijacked a server that we can use as a relay. Ready for the FTP data?
A moment later, Gary logged into the server Indie had hacked, and uploaded a file that detailed the events Chandler was planning. He told her he'd give her some time to read through it all, and went to his new kitchen to make himself some dinner. Two frozen burritos and a couple of Little Debbie cakes later, he looked back at his computer.
Herman: oh my God.
Stony: yeah. I know what you mean. Now you see why I feel like I don't have a choice.
Herman: this is absolutely unbelievable. I don't know how any human being could do such things.
Stony: it's called power. I haven't been around here long, but I know that people will do anything for power, and this guy has more of it than anyone else.
Herman: okay then, we have to stop him. And we have to do it before he can do any of these things. Did you find me a where and when?
Stony: working on that. I know he's up to something, just not sure what it is. There's some travel planned in the next few days, and I'll see what I can find out tomorrow. Keep this channel open, I don't know when I'll be in touch but I may have to get something to you quickly.
Herman: okay. I'll keep it open. Good luck.
Stony: thanks I'm gonna need it.
Gary read through the chat session again, and wondered how much longer he would live. He was putting his life on the line, and he knew it. If Chandler found out what he was doing, he'd be dead before he even saw it coming.
* * * * *
Indie read through the documents once more, and wiped the tears off her face again. Chandler had already planned the assassinations of three of the most important European leaders, namely the British prime minister and the presidents of France and Germany. He had arranged for some smaller terrorist groups that were somewhat tied to Al Qaeda to take them out with suicide bombers. Collateral damage would be a nuisance, but it was inevitable, so he merely planned to accept it and let it add to the uproar.
Then he planned to sink a couple of cruise ships, both of which would be full of happy tourists from all over the world, and blame it on American Christians. That would give certain politicians the chance to have Christians who weren't affiliated with any of the major sects labeled as terrorists, so that nondenominational churches could be raided by feds. It wouldn't be hard to tie them to things like militia groups and the NRA, so it would be only a matter of time before it would be illegal to belong to one of these splinter churches.
The worst plot, though, was the one that involved burning thousands of school children to death. That was the one she couldn't believe, the one that seemed impossible for any human mind to conceive.
Of course, she realized, it wasn't a human mind she was dealing with. Chandler might be a man, but he was trying to think like a false god, and so he was capable of greater cruelty and atrocity than even Hitler might have come up with.
The things that she was reading just didn't seem real; it didn't seem possible that a human being could conceive such plans, and yet she was looking at proof that one had done just that and she had to get word to Sam, and quickly. She picked up her phone and punched the speed dial for his number.
"Hey, Babe," came Sam's voice as he answered.
"Sam, this thing is so much bigger than we imagined," she said in a rush. "Chandler has got three major events planned over the next couple of weeks, and they’re guaranteed to bring us to the precipice of World War Three. He's got it planned out so that just being a member of a nondenominational church will get you listed as a terrorist, and make it illegal for you to own a gun, but that is nothing compared to his big finale. He's planning to hit a bunch of elementary schools with gasoline tanker trucks and bombs, and Sam, he's planning to kill thousands and thousands of kids. He's got it rigged to look like an Al Qaeda or ISIS attack, so that people will start killing Muslims in the streets. All of this is a setup, so that he can have his Antichrist figure step into the spotlight and start calming things down, and he's already got everyone in place to make it happen. Sam this is all going down, we've got to stop it!"
Sam's eyes were wide, and he put the phone on speaker so that Ken could hear it as well. They were still waiting for Chandler to call, and beginning to wonder if he was going to at all. "Indie, go through that again so Ken can hear it."
When she had done so, Ken's eyes were as wide as Sam's. "Holy cow," he said, "I never had any inkling he was that close to making this happen. Sam, you should've taken the shot! It would've been worth it, we should've tried!"
"If we had, we'd both be dead and there would be no one left to stop him. We’ve got to think our way through this, Ken, not shoot our way through it."
"Well," Indie said, "I've got Gary, that's the computer guy in his office, on our side. He's working on finding out just when and where you might be able to get to Chandler, catch him alone and do what's got to be done. He's the one who got me the files about these plans, and before you ask, I've already sent them off to Harry. I imagine one of us will be hearing from him anytime now."
"Yeah, probably," Sam said. "Chandler's supposed to be calling us, to discuss whatever it is he wants to talk about. We haven't heard from him yet, and we’re starting to wonder if we're going to. This waiting is nerve-wracking, but there's nothing else to do at the moment."
No sooner had those words left his lips, then Ken's secret phone began to ring. He glanced at Sam and made a motion like he was cutting his throat, and Sam took his phone off speaker. Ken answered the other one while Sam whispered to Indie that he would have to call her back later. She agreed, and let him go.
“Yeah,” Ken said.
“Mr. Long,” Chandler said. “Good, I was hoping to get to speak to you. I'm assuming that Mr. Prichard is there, as well?”
“Yeah, we're both here. Tell me what you want, Chandler, and why I shouldn't be trying to kill you right this second.”
“Calm down, Long,” Chandler said. “You need to get two things through your head: First, that you can't stop me. I'm far too smart for you to outwit, and there isn't anything you can do that will let you beat me at my own game. And the second thing is that this is an opportunity for you. See, I could use a man with your talents, and I'd even be willing to take your friend on, too. He says he wants to be able to live a normal life, but he can live a far better one if he's working with me. There's a new world coming, and if you guys are smart, you can have a place in it. If you're not, then there's no place for you at all. Is that hard to understand?”
Ken made a face. “It's not hard to understand, Chandler, it's just too sick for us to stomach. You're a sick bastard, and a mad dog, and the only way to deal with a mad dog is to put a bullet in its head. I've got yours all ready, and you could make things a lot easier if you'd just let me know where to find you.”
Chandler sighed. “You stupid jackass,” he said. “I just told you, there's nothing you can do to stop me, so why are you bothering to bluster so much? Good Lord, are you so full of yourself that you actually believe your own press? Ken Long, the Great Assassin—you really ought to find a way to gain some humility.”
“I'll be humble the day I see your body laid in a hole in the ground. Until then, you can expect me to stay just as arrogant as you are, you son of a bitch.”
“Look,” Chandler said, his tone one of cond
escension. “Let's just agree to disagree, then, shall we? I've already taken steps to be certain you can't get to me, so this is really just a courtesy call, anyway. I'm done playing this game, Long, I've got too many other things that need to be taking up my time. By the time you realize what I'm up to, I'll be so far out of your reach that it won't be possible for you to do anything that could even annoy me, so just go on and find something else to occupy yourselves."
The phone went dead, and Ken looked up at Sam. "He's left the country."
"You can't be sure that," Sam said, but Ken was nodding his head.
"Trust me," Ken said. "The way he was just talking, about being out of our reach? He's gone, out of the country. And I'll guarantee you there's not a trace anywhere of where he went. He wouldn't use commercial transportation; he'd be going on some clandestine or diplomatic flight, and there's no way to find out which one. We blew it, Sam. We just freaking blew it."
Sam stared at him for a moment, then looked down at the phone that was still in his hand. "Maybe not," he said. "Indie's got this guy inside his office talking to her, maybe she can get it out of him."
Ken shrugged. "Maybe she can, if the guy is for real, and if there's anything in the office that will say how Chandler left the country, or where he was going. It's quite possible that he didn't even bother to let anyone in his office know that he was leaving, let alone where he was headed to. That's fairly common in the intelligence community. It's called not letting the left hand know what the right hand is doing."
Sam punched the button to call Indie back, and set it to speaker. When she answered, he let Ken fill her in on what Chandler had had to say.
"Hang on," she said. "Let me see if Gary is still at his computer." They could hear her tapping on her keyboard for a moment, and then she spoke again. "Yes, he's there. Give me a minute to talk with him and see if he knows anything about this."
She fell silent a bit, then, but through the phone they could hear her tapping on her keys. Sam grinned at Ken, who was shaking his head. "Give her a chance," Sam said, "she's a pretty amazing girl."
Ken nodded. "I can tell that, already," he said. "If I had had one like her, you'd be amazed at how different recent history would be. A lot of the things that have happened in the last thirty years might never have happened at all."
* * * * *
Back in Colorado, Indie was having an incredible conversation with Gary Stone.
Herman: your boss has closed and fled the coop. Sam and his partner just talked to him, and they believe he has left the country. Any details on this?
Stony: nada. I hadn't heard anything about it. Are they sure? Let me check some things, give me two minutes.
Herman: okay, waiting.
Stony: well, they're right. He sent an email to one of his people in Libya a couple of hours ago, saying that he would be arriving in Jerusalem tomorrow afternoon. He's apparently hopped onto a diplomatic flight, I don't have any other information than that.
Herman: any idea what he's doing in Jerusalem?
Stony: my guess it's got to do with phase one of the plans I sent you earlier. My gut feeling is that he's going there to start launching the assassinations. I know he's got some people there that he works with from time to time, and I use the term people loosely.
Herman: this is a disaster. There's no hope of getting him back within reach before his plans go into effect, now, is there?
Stony: Mrs. Prichard, let me ask you something. Does your husband want him bad enough to go after him in Jerusalem?
Indie's eyes went wide as she looked at the screen. She picked up the phone. "Sam? He's going to Jerusalem. Gary wants to know if you want him bad enough to go after him there."
Sam and Ken answered in unison. "Yes," they said together, and Ken added, "ask him if he's got any idea on how to get us there."
Indie turned back to the computer.
Herman: they say yes, any idea how they can get there?"
Stony: holy crap I should have known this was going to happen! How do I get myself into these things? Look, the only way I can help them is if I talk to them directly. Give me a number to call them on, then I'll do what I can.
Herman: Gary, can I trust you? This is my husband we're talking about.
Stony: look, lady, I understand how you feel, that we don't have time to play around. Give me a number, or I'll give you mine and you can have them call me, I don't care. Let's just get this thing happening before I chicken out.
Indie sighed and gave him the number, adding a warning that if he did anything that got Sam hurt, she would personally track him down and disembowel him. He sent back a promise that he would do only what he could to help Sam accomplish his mission, and then he was gone.
"Okay, Sam? Look, I had to give him your number. He's going to call you right away and see what he can do to help you. Listen, let me warn you, this guy is just a kid. He's only nineteen, and he's scared to death."
"Okay, Baby, I got it. I love you, and thank you for all your help. I'll be in touch." He hung up the phone.
Sam set the phone down on the nightstand, and got up to grab another root beer from the mini fridge. He had just opened the bottle when the phone rang, and he hurried back to snatch it up. "Hello?"
"So, listen," a voice said nonchalantly, "I was chatting with your wife and she suggested that I might be able to help you out with a problem." The voice was high and squeaky, and Sam could tell the boy was scared.
"Yes, she told me you'd be calling. I want you to know how much I appreciate this. I understand you might be able to help me with some travel arrangements?"
"Yeah, maybe," the nervous voice said. "Do you have passports with you?"
Ken muttered a curse, and Sam groaned. "No, I'm afraid we don't. Is there any way around that?"
"Oh, great," Gary said. "Yeah, we can handle it; I was just hoping not to get that deeply involved." He sighed. "Okay, look, we're gonna have to meet up. I live in Arlington; how long will it take you to get over here? The address is forty-two ten Eighty-Second Street, apartment 224."
Sam punched it into his GPS, and looked at the ETA. "Looks like we're about twenty-eight minutes from you. Do you want us to come to your place, or meet you somewhere else?"
"Just drive by, and I'll follow you. I know what you're driving, so just keep going and I'll follow. Get out of Arlington and look for a restaurant, we can stop there."
Sam looked at Ken, he nodded. "Okay, and what are you driving? Just so I know if the right car is following me."
"I got a new Mustang, candy apple red. Trust me, I won't be hard to spot. Just get over here, let's get this thing going. I'm scared enough as it is; I don't need to drag it out any longer than necessary."
The phone went dead, and Sam and Ken were up and moving instantly. Not knowing whether they'd be back or not, they grabbed their bags as they headed out the door to the Corvette. They were in the car and on the road less than a minute after the call ended.
The drive to Arlington was uneventful, even though Ken kept looking around, expecting gunshots to come from somewhere. Apparently Chandler had decided that they were no longer a threat, since nobody was coming after them. That was good, but it also showed them just how confident he was that he had beaten them at their own game. Now they were banking everything on a kid who was basically just a computer nerd.
Stopping Chandler was more critical than ever, though, so they would take whatever chances they had to. If it meant they had to trust a nerdy kid in glasses, then so be it. They were on the way to deal with a total nutcase, and needed any help they could get.
"Okay, this is Eighty-Second Street coming up," Ken said. "Turn right, and his place should be about a block up."
Sam turned the corner, and his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. "It's Harry," he said, and then answered. "Yeah, Harry?"
"Sam, that wife of yours is going to give me gray hair!"
"I don't know how to tell you this, Harry, but it
's too late. You've already got gray hair, and lots of it."
"Yeah, whatever. Did she tell you about this file she sent me? Great guns, this guy is such a maniac, I just can't believe it."
"Yeah, she told us. I can't believe there isn't someone we could go to with this information, someone who would have him locked up in a heartbeat. I mean, this is the worst possible kind of treason, but according to Ken there's not anyone who's likely to stand up to him."
"And unfortunately, he's correct. Chandler knows where way too many bodies are buried; no one is going to go up against him as long as he's alive. That's where you boys come in, and Indie has just filled me in on what you're up to now. Jerusalem? For real, Jerusalem?"
"Yeah, that's the way it looks. We're meeting up with Chandler's own computer geek; he says he can arrange some sort of passport and some transportation. Can't say I ever wanted to go to Jerusalem, but it looks like I get to, anyway. Lucky me, huh?"
"Luckier than you think," Harry said. "It's one place I always wanted to go, and never managed to get myself sent to. If I were twenty years younger, I'd trade places with you in a split second."
"What's twenty years got to do with it? I've fought beside you, remember? You probably have a better chance at taking Chandler out then we do."
The car eased past the apartment building, and a bright red Mustang slid out of the parking lot and in behind it. Sam kept going, and the Mustang followed.
"Well, in any event, you let me know if you need anything. If that kid can't get you onto a diplomatic flight, let me know, because I can. I'll also send you the phone number of one of our people in Jerusalem. He can supply you with weapons and other gear you might need once you're there."
Sam was nodding. "Good, Harry, that was one of my concerns. The other is how we're going to find Chandler once we get there. Any ideas on that?"
"I've got a couple people over there I can put to watching him when he arrives. The man at the number I'm texting to you will know how to reach them, and put you in touch with them. I want you to call me before you leave the country, so we can compare notes. This thing is crazy, Sam, we've got to put a stop to it."