Fox Three let out a curse at the Butler, stood up, and lifted Fox Two by his underarms, grunting as he dragged away the lifeless body.
“As you’re aware, things here aren’t as they have been,” the Butler said. “Others may come either to try to control us or to fight us. Can I count on you to stand with me, no matter what happens?”
Fox Three stopped and turned to face him. “As long as we catch the person responsible for this, yes.”
“Excellent. I won’t let you down. Hold up; let me get his vest. I need the round buried in it for Mrs. Sullivan to analyze as well.”
Fox Three allowed the Butler to remove the bloodied vest. The Butler paid no attention to the blood now covering his hands. He watched the body being dragged away and then returned to the scene picking up Fox Two’s MP5.
The Butler pried the lodged bullet out of the vest and located its casing found by Fox Three and put them both in his left pocket. He then ejected the clip on the MP5 and inspected the remaining rounds. He emptied two rounds with his thumb, secured the clip back in the weapon, and slung it over his shoulder.
The Butler looked in the direction Fox Three had been taking the body and verified he was not in sight. He removed his handgun from his holster, popped the clip and inserted the two rounds he had taken. With his clip now full, he slammed it back into the gun and racked a round into the chamber before holstering his weapon.
The Butler knew Mrs. Sullivan’s questioning a few minutes ago about the cause of death was odd. Dead is dead, and he wanted all roads pointing to Mr. Sullivan. He was not about to give back control of the data center to him and he needed Mrs. Sullivan to question Mr. Sullivan’s intentions and actions.
Mrs. Sullivan’s voice came over his comms, “Butler please join me in the library, now.”
“On my way.”
The Butler was not concerned as he was important and loyal, and he had shot enough holes in Mr. Sullivan’s intentions to keep the Missus contemplating things.
He entered the mansion and casually headed straight to the library. When he arrived, he observed her image sitting in a chair, legs crossed, looking at him intently. He walked across the library and stood near her and the input pedestal.
“Something you need, ma’am? I was in the process of cleaning up.”
“Yes, there will be time for that but right now I need you to unholster your weapon and place it on the pedestal.”
The Butler broke his relaxed stance and faced her, “Excuse me? What is the purpose of this, you don’t trust me?”
“My reasons are my own. Please put down your weapon.”
“I’ve already told you what happened out there. What is..”
“I said put the gun on the pedestal. Now!”
Her shouting irritated the Butler and just as she finished her sentence, he drew his gun in the blink of an eye. He slammed the gun down on the pedestal and depressed the eject clip button while raising the pistol leaving the clip standing upright. He brought his hands together in one smooth move and ejected the round in the chamber. The round popped up into the air and he caught it with his left hand and brought the pistol and the loose round down onto the pedestal. His left hand slammed the loose round hard, causing a loud crack to resonate in the room. He then stepped back and brought his hands to his sides, his face taut in irritation.
“Very impressive, let’s take inventory now shall we,” she said in a sarcastic tone. She stood up and walked around the pedestal to check the weapon’s ammunition count.
“I’m not here to impress you. I’m here to protect our data. Failure is not an option. Fox Two failed us and met his fate but I don’t think that was a coincidence.”
“You’re not here to impress, huh? Do I detect sarcasm? Perhaps Fox One is wearing off on you after all?”
The Butler tensed at the comment and his hands rolled into fists. “How dare you compare me to him. I didn’t desert my post and leave my team unsupported. One of your team—”
“Relax, relax. I know you two are cut from different cloth. All rounds accounted for. It appears you didn’t kill him after all. You can see why I had to check though, right? I mean after all; your crew didn’t call you the Butcher for nothing. You really could not have a more opposite façade here as Butler of the house.”
“Such a barbaric name. Why does precision in what I do have to be associated with that profession. Perhaps a meat slicer that at least implies precision.”
The Butler quickly grabbed the loose round with one hand and the gun with the other. He inserted the round into the locked open chamber and slammed the gun down on the clip making it click into place. He racked the gun and slid it into his holster, as quick and as smooth as he’d ejected everything. He pivoted and headed to the door.
She stopped him at the threshold with a question. “I’m curious, why Fox Two’s vest didn’t protect him? Don’t tell me he was shot in the head?”
“They were chest wounds. The vest was removed and nowhere to be found.”
“Removed you say, very interesting. The assailant has the guts to fight with Fox Two and in the process, he was able to remove his vest and fire two rounds into his chest. Why not just shoot him in the head? Then he just flees taking care to take to get the vest. It’s impossible; Fox Two would have been able to fight him off and prevent him from removing his vest, and you say it wasn’t Stratus, that he had already left? Something’s not adding up.”
“I’m not a forensic crime scene expert, Mrs. Sullivan. I just know he’s dead. Maybe you should ask Mr. Sullivan. He’s the one who stands to gain from this. Now he has justification to send in his reinforcements.”
“I did ask.”
Surprised that she was so bold, he waited for her to reveal a plan.
“Tail this creature he’s sent us and find out what we’re up against,” she said. “Find its possible weaknesses. Whatever you do, don’t get spotted and don’t get yourself killed. When we know how to handle it, I’ll let you get rid of this nuisance my dear husband imprisoned us with. I have a mission for you after that. Leo needs to visit us again.
“About damn time. Finally, we can get out from under Mr. Sullivan’s timid, weak grasp. We’ll be free, again. It’s you and me.”
Chapter 52
Stratus looked over Leo’s movements, unable to verify his exact whereabouts. Other than driving data, his trail was cold. He had hoped to shake things up with him and remained confident he may be able to make Leo skeptical about his current situation with New Wave.
Stratus would now have to return with his own personal account of events over the last few days and hope that would be sufficient for his superiors. He needed them to take this seriously.
He was not sure what might be going on, but it hinted toward something larger. He headed to the closest airport after deciding to head back a day early to stress his urgency.
He put his Bluetooth earbud in and connected to his secure, untraceable private phone. After that, Stratus called into his superiors and authenticated himself, before letting his team know he would be arriving the next day to present his findings.
Stratus’s flight was short; he picked up his rental car and headed to his destination. During his drive, he thought about what to say to his superiors. If he revealed all the details, his superiors might be outraged he had disobeyed them, and not be as likely to listen. The strange things he encountered could paint him as crazy.
Stratus drove past several entrances and lots curling around the massive structure. He reached the employees lot and stopped at the gate. He hated waiting for security both outside and inside the building. He just wished it were as easy as flashing a badge and entering.
The rental car always drew attention, as security did not like giving special exceptions to unregistered cars. Stratus had an office, one he rarely visited, as out in the field is where he felt he belonged. He pulled the Cadillac up and rolled down his window. A man with a crew cut approached and asked for identification, which Stratus already
had waiting. He swiped the badge through a handheld terminal and stared at Stratus to verify his identity.
“Hello, Stratus Lattamus. It’s been awhile. I show your last visit was about a month ago.”
“Yes, I could pound the pavement everyday but every now and then I do pretend to be a desk jockey. Only when the boss is watching, of course.”
A stiff smile appeared on the man’s face, unsure if he should laugh given his position.
“Sounds good, Mr. Lattamus.”
Stratus almost broke into smile of his own if it were not for the other guard yelling to stop him from entering.
“Wait, wait this vehicle is not registered for the lot. What are you doing you can’t let him in?”
“I’ve already checked his ID. The notes state he rarely uses registered plates. It also says don’t refuse entry for any reason.”
Now a smile broke out on Stratus’ face as he grinned at the overbearing guard rolling up his window and pulling forward without a word. Stratus parked and exited the vehicle. He walked to the employee entrance. Hand on the door, he stopped then took a deep breath and pulled open the door. This was the point of no return. He hoped they were ready to listen.
After an invasive search of himself and his phone, he approached a bank of elevators and badged into a stairwell next to them. This led to a hallway that ended in a single set of elevator doors.
Of the thousands that walked these halls shrouded with secrecy and substantive clout, only a handful used this elevator and had office space at the top of its ascent that led to a team within a team.
He entered the elevator and swiped a different card and the elevator door closed and ascended. The bell dinged in the elevator to signal Stratus’s arrival at his floor and a voice came from the speaker above his head.
“Welcome back to the Pentagon, Special Agent Lattamus.”
Stratus’s worries dissipated. His face went taunt with a seriousness. Game time.
Chapter 53
The elevator doors opened to a large room encased in glass. In the center was a huge oblong conference table made of oak, with black high-back leather chairs tucked beneath its gleaming surface. An arc of offices lay all around it with glass walls, some containing windows looking out onto the facilities grounds. Stratus headed straight for his office.
Stratus smiled, warm inside as he remembered the others in the team had been upset he got the office with a window, seeing as how he rarely visited.
As his coworkers exited their offices, all thirteen co-workers of Stratus’s team had their eyes on him for two reasons: one, he was back early, and two, he was not in a suit, which never happened. Luckily, he always kept a spare suit in his office. He closed the door, changed quickly and sprayed a mist of his favorite cologne while enjoying the view for a moment. When he opened his office door, everyone was sitting at the conference table waiting for his arrival.
Clark, one of his associates said, “Hey Stratus, there you are. I thought we had a hobo walk in here for a second.”
Clark laughed and got a stern look from Stratus as he took a seat at the table. The man at the head of the table looked down at Stratus with a confused frown.
“You came back early, and you came with nothing.” He gestured to Stratus’s empty hands. “We have a file started with the snap shots you sent us; however, it was only to be for relevant, substantial leads, when you were convinced we are on to something with the dossier I gave you. I don’t see any connection.”
Stratus had tuned out his boss’s speech and was just watching the man’s dark brown wavy hair bounce as he spoke.
“I didn’t come back with nothing. I came back early to implore you to move forward.”
“Well share with us then, Stratus.”
“The last few days have been eventful as well as frustrating. This rural piece of America has surprised me. I must admit I was expecting it to be a bore. I have no hard evidence and, before any of you get up and leave, or Mr. Cromwell here spouts off, let me finish.”
Surprisingly no one uttered a word; they just looked on blankly hoping to not be disappointed.
He turned his attention to his superior, Mr. Cromwell. “It’s no surprise to you that I tend to do things less conventionally and this case was no exception and for that I apologize. As some of you may or may not know a company called New Wave has stock that has skyrocketed. They have bought a Mr. Krueger’s invention for a substantial price but aren’t interested in it. What they are interested in is Mr. Krueger himself. I don’t know Mr. Krueger’s significance; in fact, he seems oblivious to it all. Persons of interest would have to be a Mrs. Sullivan in Pennsylvania, New Wave’s CEO, and someone living in the mansion near Mr. Krueger’s residence. The history of both properties is clouded to say the least and they bear a resemblance to each other. Both are shrouded in secrecy and I learned that the hard way. I spoke with Mr. Krueger about financial options, but he asked me to leave.
Everyone around the table became restless, wondering if Stratus had anything to say.
“Having no leads, I visited the property in Pennsylvania that Mr. Krueger had visited early yesterday morning. Krueger was paid money after his visit, and the funds didn’t come from New Wave, so I figured the Pennsylvania home was a good place to start. Showing up unannounced was a bad idea and security took it personal. Before our physical altercation, the guard gave up the name Mrs. Sullivan. I returned to the Halaby Property where Mr. Krueger resides. He lives in a cottage and the rent is covered by the scholarship the estate awarded him.”
Mr. Cromwell shifted in his seat and slouched, uninterested so far.
“And this is where it gets interesting, or should I say weird,” said Stratus.
“Are we getting to anything of substance?” Cromwell asked. “Besides your insubordinate behavior?”
Stratus ignored his badgering and continued, “This property gives one a chill and feels empty despite one knowing firsthand how alive Halaby is. I believe Halaby may be in phase one of their projects already. I fired upon a rodent that seemed to be interested in me. A little too much to be normal. Three shots brought it down but didn’t kill it. It kept coming at me with a fury until I ended it with a bullet to the head. The thing wasn’t real, and when I approached it I saw it had rows of metallic teeth and the blood wasn’t blood it was some sort of corrosive fluid. Before I could grab the carcass for evidence the body foamed up into a mound and puffed into sand. It left nothing for me to bring you and it’s why I’m here early. We need to move and shut this operation down before they develop anything else.”
“Wait,” Cromwell said. “Let me get this straight you discharged your firearm on private property four times into a squirrel that disappeared in front of you. This is what you brought us?”
“Sir, I understand it’s not physical evidence, but this is the smoking gun we were looking for.”
“Even if I were to believe you, you don’t even know who these people are, none of them.”
“I know one name for sure. Leonard Krueger, but he’s not who we should worry about.”
“Who did you just say?”
“Leonard Krueger, sir. The scholar turned millionaire working for who knows…all three of the facilities I’ve mentioned perhaps.”
“You’re on immediate suspension Stratus. I can’t tolerate your actions any longer. Your conduct requires review. This meeting is over. Stratus come with me.”
Everyone at the table froze in confusion, mumbling amongst themselves as they left the conference room. Cromwell knew Stratus’s style, and his information seemed relevant. They disbanded and went to their offices, scratching their heads. Stratus held down his fury until they reached the elevators, then immediately started questioning him.
“Sir, a suspension?” Stratus said in a low voice. “That is ridiculous! I’m not sitting this one out on the sidelines.”
“Everyone’s sitting this one out. We’re closing the case,” Cromwell announced loud enough for everyone to hear. As they en
tered the elevator, Mr. Cromwell spoke quietly, cutting off another tirade from Stratus
“We’re headed to the isolation pod.”
Stratus’ squinted his eyes in confusion. This was all a show, why? He played along, remaining silent as they descended one level down to their research floor. When you wanted assurances no one was listening, you used the isolation pod. Stratus relaxed a bit knowing this indicated Cromwell had more to ask or say about his encounter.
They exited the elevator and walked past the research rooms. Everything on this floor was black and silver with one exception and that was the large glass ball at the end of the hall. They walked in and Cromwell sealed the door shut. Stratus felt restricted in the space, not much larger than a space capsule.
“Sorry about the dramatics back there,” Cromwell said. “There’s more information you should know if you continue with this case. I had to make them think your ideas were ridiculous and that it was over for you and this case. Take a seat.”
They both sat down on white chairs surrounding a small table. The chairs were made of memory foam that eased Stratus’s apprehension about the room.
“This case starts with a small history lesson that only I and one other person are aware of.” Cromwell leaned in and put both elbows on the table starting directly at Status. “About twenty years ago a company called Leighland approached the Pentagon with the proposal of an unknown technology, cloud computing. It promised secure holding and access to data anywhere on earth immediately. Not only did it allow devices to be made smaller and more tolerant to vibration, but it also made updates to systems seamless. The army of the future will be high tech and mobile; they may face Electromagnetic Pulses. This promised functionality without the need for shielding, allowing it to be able to be re-launched or reloaded if damaged, remotely. The military was already looking for a place to expand its footprint outside well identifiable areas. The Pentagon didn’t want an enemy being able to remove data, communication, systems, or surveillance with a few airstrikes.”
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