S.E.A.R.Ch

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S.E.A.R.Ch Page 3

by Harrison Davies


  ‘All right Jack? Hi Red,’ she said, before leaning over to kiss Jack on the cheek. ‘I was just coming to your house Phil, in case Jack was there. I thought we could go to the movies or something.’

  ‘I’ll have to ask Natalie. You know what she’s like; needs to know where I’m going and who with. You’d think I was a kid or something.’

  ‘Well I can’t go,’ Phil said. ‘I’ve got to be in for dinner at seven.’

  ‘It looks like just the two of us then, if your Mom says yes.’ Allie smiled. ‘I want to spend time alone with you for a change,’ she whispered as an afterthought.

  Jack liked spending time alone with Allie. He enjoyed their long talks about life and the future and hearing all the gossip from school. He felt lucky to have her as a girlfriend and knew there were plenty of other guys who would gladly step into his shoes, given a chance. It wasn’t surprising, though. With long brown hair, green eyes, and cute little dimples that appeared on her cheeks every time she smiled, she was gorgeous.

  ‘Phil wants a dip first, but I’ll ask anyway. Maybe I can get my allowance from Dad,’ Jack said, taking a slice of her pizza.

  ‘Phil?’ Allie said, offering him the carton.

  He reached in and grabbed two slices, then shoveled them into his mouth.

  ‘You’re unbelievable?’ Allie remarked, raising her eyebrows in shock.

  ‘Best way to be. Got to keep my figure, you know,’ he said, slapping the flab of his stomach.

  They all laughed and carried on their way, past the municipal park which was a favorite haunt when they were younger. It was looking run down these days; the fountain no longer worked and sections of the fencing surrounding it had long been torn down. The local authority had recently received funding to rejuvenate the area, and Allie had complained that the money would have been better spent renovating some of the housing in the area instead.

  ‘I wonder if there’s still a rope swing on that big oak tree?’ Phil pondered. His favorite pastime had been to try and swing the highest in the country and try to gain himself a place in the internationally famous Guinness Book of Records. He never did, though.

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps we should take a look tomorrow,’ Jack said. ‘We haven’t been to the park together for years.’

  ‘It would be good to do that again sometime. Maybe have a swim too,’ Allie added. She often thought back to the times they spent lazing in the sunshine, watching the world go by, and swimming in the lake on hot summer days.

  ‘You’re joking? That lake’s a death trap.’

  ‘You know, I could restart my quest for gold,’ Phil chimed in.

  ‘Red. Five years ago you stopped that silly Guinness Records thing because you fell off the rope swing and nearly broke your neck,’ Allie reminded him.

  ‘So? I’m older and stronger now. I mean, I can hold on better.’

  Allie shrugged. ‘Well, it’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘Well all I can say is, if that’s what you want, you go for it buddy,’ Jack said, smiling at his friend.

  Phil smiled back at him, satisfied it was his destiny.

  Twenty minutes later they reached Jack’s neighborhood, commonly referred to as the Hamptons. This area was in sharp contrast to where Phil and Allie lived. There were no burnt out cars or decaying houses, and no fear of people mugging you for your sneakers.

  Every town had its bad spots, usually brought on by a minority, and sadly everyone else had to suffer because of them. Allie debated heavily with Jack on the subject and planned to do something about it when she was older, perhaps even go into politics, she had once said.

  As they passed the large community hall, three police cars with sirens sounding and lights blazing whizzed past them.

  ‘Whoa! They were going pretty fast,’ Jack said.

  Allie lit a cigarette to Jack’s disgust. ‘Probably out to catch a burglar or something.’

  Phil, who was walking ahead of them, turned back to face them. ‘Bet you any money it’s Todd and Shaun Price from Granville Road.’

  Jack had never heard of them. ‘Who?’

  ‘Oh, you wouldn’t know them. They’re from our part of town. They go to St. Helen’s High School,’ Allie told him. ‘A couple of guys you don’t want to know. They’re into everything dishonest.’

  ‘If it’s anything big we’ll hear about it on the TV anyway,’ said Phil. ‘I mean, you have to be wealthy to live here.’

  ‘I’m not rich,’ Jack objected. ‘I only live here because of my Dad’s work.’

  Phil made a face. ‘Have you found out what he does yet?’

  ‘No, he says its secret, and he can’t tell me.’

  ‘I think your Dad’s a spy for the C.I.A.,’ Allie said mysteriously.

  ‘Don’t be stupid. My father a spy? Hah! He’s scared of his own shadow! Once he was working in the garden clearing away some old bushes. He screamed and ran into the house, shouting: “There’s a big snake in the garden!”. Anyhow, he called the Animal Control people, and they found it. It turns out it was a hosepipe.’

  All three burst into fits of laughter that lasted until they reached the start of Bridewell Grove, where Jack lived. And there an impressive sight met them - the biggest police presence they had ever seen.

  ‘Something’s going on! It looks like it’s next to your house,’ Phil said.

  They hurried up the grove, intrigued by the commotion when a policeman stopped them in their tracks. ‘Sorry kids, we have an incident here. I can’t let you through.’

  ‘Why? What’s happened?’ Jack asked, ‘I live here.’

  ‘Do you? What number?’

  ‘Forty-six.’

  ‘What’s your name, son?’

  ‘Jack Simpson.’

  ‘Just you stay there. Don’t move; I’ll be right back.’ The officer turned and strode further up into the grove.

  The teenagers could see him talking to a man in a dark suit. Both men conferred for a moment, and the officer pointed at them. The man in the suit nodded and started to walk towards them.

  ‘Jack. Have you done something wrong?’ Allie whispered.

  ‘Course not,’ he said, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

  The man in the suit arrived, accompanied by a female police officer. ‘Which one of you is Jack Simpson?’

  Before he could stop himself, Phil spoke. ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘Detective Evans,’ was the stern reply.

  ‘Sorry about him. I’m Jack Simpson,’ Jack said, facing the Officer, slightly worried he was about to get arrested for doing nothing wrong at all.

  ‘We’ve been looking for you; we thought you might be missing too,’ the Detective said in obvious relief.

  ‘Missing? What do you mean?’

  ‘You’d better come with me,’ Inspector Evans said. He turned to the woman. ‘See these two get home safely. I’m not taking any chances.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ she said, before turning to Phil and Allie. ‘Come on; I’ll give you a ride home.’

  ‘But what about Jack?’ Allie asked worriedly.

  ‘He’ll be all right. He’s in safe hands,’ she said.

  With that, she led the two to a waiting police car, which turned full circle and sped off a minute later.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Detective Evans led Jack to his home where he found himself completely bewildered by what was happening. It seemed to him that the entire police force was running around his house, and even more bizarrely, the press were there too.

  Arriving at number forty-six Bridewell Grove, a huge, six bed, red brick house, Jack was ushered inside amid a group of journalists calling him, blinding him with their flash guns, and asking questions he couldn’t really hear because they all shouted at the same time.

  He was led into his father’s study at the rear of the house. The room was buzzing with activity. People in white suits and surgical gloves were everywhere, taking photographs and fingerprint samples.

&nb
sp; Then Jack saw her. His stepmother was sat on his father’s couch. She didn’t look the same as she had in the morning; she was pale, and her eyes were bloodshot from crying. He immediately pushed aside one of the men in white, ran to her, and flung his arms around her.

  ‘Natalie? What’s happening? What’s going on?’ he asked anxiously, stunned at seeing her blotchy, tear-stained face. He knew then that something serious had happened. He had never seen his stepmother in this pitiful state before; for the two years that she and his father had been together, she had always been a strong woman.

  ‘It’s your dad -.’ she began.

  ‘What about him?’ he interrupted. Hundreds of scenarios, terrible things that could have happened to him flashed through his mind. Was he dead, hurt, what? He had to know.

  ‘Two men, they … they -’ She burst into fresh tears, and her shoulders heaved with sobbing as she raised her hands to cover her face.

  ‘Natalie!’

  Detective Evans intervened. ‘Come on Jack. Let’s leave your stepmom to calm down and go and talk somewhere quiet.’

  ‘But I still don’t know what’s happened,’ Jack pleaded, on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want to leave her like this.’

  ‘I must insist. I need to ask a few questions. It’s important.’

  Jack looked to Natalie who gave him a nod of approval, and he reluctantly gave in to the policeman’s request. Quietly, with his shoulders drooped, he permitted the policeman to lead him from the study and upstairs to his bedroom.

  Arriving there, he found it had been untouched by forensics.

  ‘They haven’t been in my room,’ Jack said, which was more of a statement than a query.

  ‘We felt it wasn’t necessary. Take a seat, Jack.’

  He sloped over to his computer desk and sat down on his green swivel chair, his elbows resting on the arms.

  ‘Are you able to answer a few questions about this morning?’ Evans asked.

  ‘Yes, but will you tell me what’s happened to my father? What was Natalie trying to tell me?’

  ‘I’ll tell you in a moment. First I need to you to answer my questions,’ Detective Evans said as he sat down on Jack’s unmade bed. His face looked grim. ‘Have you seen anybody suspicious in the area over the past few days?’

  Jack swung his chair so that he was facing the window so that the policeman wouldn’t see the fear in his face. Still, with his back to the detective, he answered. ‘Today I bumped into a guy coming up the driveway.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘It must have been about eight-thirty when I left for school.’

  ‘Do you think you could describe him? Things like hair, eyes, scars, or tattoos. What was he wearing?’ the officer asked.

  Jack pondered the question for a while, the activity of the police and the reporters outside distracting him.

  ‘I didn’t really take much notice. People come and go all the time here. I think it’s something to do with my father’s work,’ Jack answered finally. He thought a moment longer, recalling the incident. ‘He was tall, dark hair, and he was black. Oh, and he was wearing a dark blue suit.’

  ‘Very good Jack. Anything else? Did he have an accent? Was he an American, do you think?’

  Jack thought back to the few, seemingly insignificant seconds in the driveway of his home.

  ‘I think he was South African.’

  ‘Good, good. Now, Jack, did he say anything to you?’

  Jack frowned. ‘He said something about catching up with dad. He asked if he was home. Look, that’s it, that’s all I know. What’s happened to my father?’ he pleaded.

  Detective Evans stood up, walked to the window, and closed the blind.

  ‘What I’m about to tell you will be upsetting,’ Evans said as he read notes from a black notebook. ‘According to your stepmom, a man that fits the description you gave came to the door, produced identification, and said he was from the police. We know this to be false. He asked to speak to your father, and your stepmom said he would be back in a few minutes and asked if the gentleman would like to wait. As soon as she was inside, the intruder grabbed her and took her into the study where he bound and gagged her. He then let another unidentified male into the house by the rear. They lay in wait for your father, and after a struggle overpowered him. Your stepmom said he put up quite a fight, but they led him into the study, and your Mom says that ... that they beat him. They were continually asking him for a set of plans your father was working on. Apparently, he wouldn’t give them any information. The odd thing is, they didn’t search the house looking for these plans. We have no idea why yet.’

  Inspector Evans paused a moment to wipe his brow, intense concentration on his face.

  ‘But my father. What -’

  ‘Wait, there’s more.’ The policeman held up his hand. ‘After a few hours of this, the first man spoke on a radio and asked someone to bring the transport up to the driveway. Your stepmom heard a vehicle pull up outside and your dad was taken out of the house, we believe into the waiting car. Your stepmom only managed to free herself about an hour ago and contacted us. We thought you might have been kidnapped too. We’ve had officers out looking for you all over town.’

  Jack put his head on the desk and sobbed. It was all too much to take in. Minutes passed, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he straightened himself up.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Jack said, wiping his eyes. ‘What plans? Why my father?’

  ‘We don’t know. Your stepmom says she has no idea. We’re waiting to hear from the Department of Defense on that,’ the Inspector answered.

  ‘My father works for the army?’

  ‘Not directly, but he has been assisting them. That much we know. I’d like you to come and look at some photographs tomorrow and see if you can identify the individual you saw. But right now, the best thing for you to do is comfort your stepmom. She’s been through quite an ordeal. I am sure we will hear something soon, so please don’t worry.’

  Don’t worry? Jack thought. How am I supposed not to worry? My Dad has just been kidnapped!

  Detective Evans bade his farewell and left Jack alone in his room. He was there for quite some time, thinking over everything that had happened. He only stirred from his thoughts when he heard a light tapping at the bedroom door.

  ‘Go away. I don’t want to answer any more questions. I’ve told you everything I know.’

  ‘Jack. It’s me.’

  Jack stood up, stiff from sitting still for so long. He walked to the door and opened it. Seeing Allie there with a worried expression on her face melted his heart, and he stepped aside to let her into the room.

  ‘Jack. I’ve just heard. I’m so sorry.’ She wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his head in her hair.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ Jack mumbled through his tears.

  ‘I don’t know, but Natalie called and said I should come and see you. She felt it might be better if I talked to you.’

  He lifted his head. ‘Am I supposed to just sit here and do nothing?’

  Allie sighed. ‘What can you do, Jack? The police say they’re doing everything they can. They’ve even posted a guard at the door in case the men come back, which is highly unlikely if you ask me.’

  Jack pulled away. ‘I know you’re trying to comfort me, but I really don’t feel like company at the moment. If anything, I’m as mad as hell. Look, do me a favor, go downstairs and see how Natalie is. I’ll come downstairs soon.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. I have some thinking to do,’ Jack said, not looking at her.

  Allie took a step towards him and gingerly kissed him on the nose. She paused momentarily and then left the room, closing the door on her way out.

  Jack sat on the edge of his bed with a puzzled expression on his face, a memory forming in his head.

  ‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s bound to be there!’ With a look of satisfaction on his face, he left his room and
crept downstairs. Aside from the living room where two officers waited should the kidnappers call; the rest of the house was thankfully void of police officers. Crossing the hallway he checked his father’s study was clear, then went in and locked the door behind him. He quickly moved to a wooden panel on the far wall and clicked a concealed button. The panel slid sideways to reveal a small space containing a laptop personal computer. He had secretly seen his father do this many times, but as his father had forbidden him ever to enter the study, this was the first time he’d seen it up close. Thinking twice before he acted further, he crossed to the large windows and pulled down the blinds.

  Jack again crossed to the panel and removed the laptop from its hiding place. He laid it on his father’s antique writing desk and lifted the lid. The machine immediately sprung to life, and Jack nearly jumped out of his skin at what happened next.

  ‘Hello Professor Simpson,’ the computer said in a very clear, male voice.

  ‘Wow, it talks,’ Jack said, totally dumbfounded.

  ‘Of course, I do. Although you know that already, Professor.’

  Jack didn’t know what to do or say next. He was aware that this was some kind of miniature supercomputer, and it might not respond if he revealed he wasn’t his father. Apparently, it didn’t recognize different voice patterns, and so he decided to carry on.

  ‘Computer. I need to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘I am happy to oblige, Professor. What would you like to know?’

  ‘What are you?’

  ‘You are aware of what I am, Professor,’ the computer replied, with an almost recognizable, puzzled tone.

  ‘For argument's sake, what are you?’

  ‘I am S.E.A.R.Ch. Speech Enhanced Audio Recognition Computer hybrid. Model T four slash one. I am a self-aware Artificial Intelligence, programmed to assist you in your research and respond with my own analysis. My functions vary. I am able to control and access other non-sentient supercomputers, including state of the art weaponry. I am also programmed to respond to nuclear threat, with counter-retaliation. I can hack and control the world's satellite network. My battery cells are able to last three months before recharging. Does that answer your question, Professor, or do you require further functions and technical specifications?’

 

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