by Brad Cooper
“Coffee went down the wrong pipe.” He cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, it’s some friend of the Tochigis. Some high class business guy wants to show off by landing that thing out here. It’s an ego thing, I’m sure. That’s all it ever is. Why?”
“Isn’t that a little bizarre? You’ve got to admit that much. It’s not any trouble, I don’t guess, but people here are wondering about it. I’ll just let them know that it’s a business thing and not one they need to concern themselves with. Now about the Kessler thing…”
“We’ve got the guy locked up and we’re waiting on everything to get started with the county. What else do you want us to do?” Sparks said impatiently before the mayor could finish.
“I’m just keeping tabs on things. I’ll catch you later. Got a 3 o’clock tee time.”
“Right,” Sparks said before hanging up. “Frank!” he called out from his office.
Amick appeared at the door a minute later. “Yeah?”
“Sorry to wake you,” the chief said sarcastically. “Carl taking care of the phone thing today?”
Amick looked at the clock on the wall and said, “Should be done by now. I still don’t see why you wanted that done though.”
“You said one of them is on that internet all the time and they could be talking to someone. We can’t afford to have somebody sitting on that line all the time in case they make a call neither. Two birds with one stone, right? We can’t take any chances until things cool off a little bit.”
“Whatever,” Amick said half-heartedly before walking away.
Sparks reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of antacid. The recommended dosage was two tablets but he was beyond such a paltry amount. He chewed and swallowed four of the assorted flavor tablets, took a drink of water, and tossed the bottle back into the bottom drawer.
He sat with his elbows on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. With his eyes closed in thought, he wondered if anything he’d done was right. He wondered if anything would ever be right again.
The error message popped onto the screen for the third time. Clark’s frustration was mounting. A connection couldn’t be established. The computer had been online most of the morning before suddenly dropping the connection. For the last five minutes he’d been telling his modem to dial the server to no avail. He picked up the cordless phone on the right side of the desk and pressed the talk button.
Silence.
Irritated, Clark walked into the living room, picked up the phone, and again heard nothing.
“What are you doing?” Adam asked, looking away from the video game he was playing.
“Phone’s dead. I was online, the connection dropped, and now the line’s dead.” He powered off the receiver and sat it back in the charger.
Adam took the game off of pause and resumed playing. “They’ll fix it sometime today. They always do. Sit down.”
“Will they?” Clark asked rhetorically. “We already know it’s tapped and now it doesn’t work?”
“Maybe the tap thing screwed it up,” said Adam, still staring at the screen and frantically thumbing the buttons on the controller.
“Either way it screws me up. I have to jump online today and get the instructions to Julie for Monday,” Clark said. “Perfect timing.”
“Go to Kara’s.”
“I can’t. Her parents turned off all the services for the summer because they’d be gone so much. That’s why Kara was over here to use the ‘net even before this circus started.” He paused before saying, “Hold on. We may not be totally screwed. I didn’t want to do this unless I had to but now is as good a time to try it as any.”
“Let me guess. You have an idea,” Adam said mockingly.
Clark heard him but continued down the hall to his room where he left Kara’s wireless network adapter. Walking back into the living room he said, “You always whine about wanting to drive the Tiburon. Now’s your chance.”
“Okay, but why? Where’re we going?”
“I need to run downstairs and get the laptop. Get Kara and meet me in the car. I need to get that file to Julie and I’m not waiting any longer to do it.”
“This is unbelievable,” Adam said. “You know this won’t work. Right? You know it won’t.”
Clark was sitting in the passenger seat of his own car for the first time. He brought up the necessary files on the screen of his laptop and inserted the wireless network adapter. The battery was nearly drained so he powered the machine using the car’s cigarette lighter. “Just shut up and drive. I don’t need enough of a signal to download a bootleg copy of a movie. I just need enough to get on, message Julie, and send this little text file to her. Then we’re off.”
“How’s this work again?” Kara asked.
“You’ve got a wireless network at your house—
“Yeah.”
“—and this is basically the same thing. The hotel has free wireless internet service. The building has something like a hundred and fifty rooms and it needs a lot of power for signal strength. They have access points all over the place so the signal won’t get weak. We just get close to the building and leech off of it for just a minute and then we’re on our way.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Adam asked.
“Then we find a better place to do it. The range on this thing is supposed to be a hundred meters but I’d like to get within fifty just to be careful.” He continued making changes to the necessary settings. Looking at the screen he asked, “Is our friend still on our six?”
“On our six?”
“You called me a secret agent. I might as well talk like one.”
Adam checked the rearview mirror. “Yeah, he’s back there. I’m pretty sure the Silver Bullet could out run that cast iron death trap though.”
“Let him stay right where he is. Chances are he won’t follow us all the way behind the hotel. It’s too obvious.”
“This one?” Adam asked, pointing to the Comfort Inn sign less than a quarter-mile ahead.
Clark got comfortable in his seat and tilted the screen to a better angle for optimal viewing. “That’s the one. Pull in and go around back. Park in one of the spots right in front of the rooms.”
The offices for the hotel sat at the top of the hill and the guests’ rooms were in a separate building directly below. The layout was another variable that Clark had considered. If need be, his sports car would have the advantage over the truck for a quick escape. His Tiburon was lighter, newer, and even comparably powerful, so quickly racing up the incline would not be an issue.
Adam parked in a space at the center of the three-story building. The hotel’s layout was simple. The building was a giant square and housed fifty rooms on each floor. No one room was distinct from the rest. Each room was laid out precisely the same down to the heavy, painted-brown doors with the worn down brass numbers at the top. It was apparent that 1972 was a good year for hotel decor and no one bothered to pursue an update.
“Do your thing,” Adam said, pushing the car’s automatic gear shift into park.
“If we’re back here for very long he might get curious,” said Kara, turning to look out the back window. Carl Lilly’s truck was nowhere to be seen.
“We won’t be here for very long,” Clark said, already clicking the appropriate icons and typing the necessary commands. “Give me two minutes and we’re out.”
Clark clicked the icon to activate the wireless adapter and the light instantly came to life. He was well within range of an access point, despite the fact that picking an ideal location was no better than random chance. He checked the signal strength, which registered as “good” but Clark thought of it as “good enough” for the time being. Two clicks later his instant messaging program was connected and active but, more importantly, it was fully functional and Julie was online.
He did not send her a message. Instead, he dragged the icon for the small text file he’d written for Julie, one that contained every instruction and covered every option that he
could think of, over to her name on his list. The file was transmitted in less than five seconds. Julie sent a single message telling Clark that she’d received the file and Clark disconnected from the messaging program and deactivated the wireless connection. It had all occurred in less than two minutes.
“How’s it coming?” Kara asked, peering over the back of Ryan’s seat. The engine was still running, the radio blaring.
“We’re done. Let’s go,” Clark replied. He shut down the laptop, removed the power cord from the cigarette lighter, and placed it into the leather case. “You know this won’t work. Right?” he said, mocking Adam, before looking at him and laughing. “Have a little faith, brother.”
“Smartass,” Adam said, backing the car out of its parking space and starting back up the hill. He reached over and turned down the volume on the radio. “Not bad. If they really did cut our access to the phone, at least now we’ve got a way around it. Let’s get out of here.”
“So when do we get to hear the details of this master plan of yours?” Kara asked.
“We’ll discuss it tonight. I’ve got a few DVDs to burn and a letter to type up, too.”
“A letter?” Adam asked.
“It’s more of a statement than a letter, really. I’ll run through everything tonight so we’ll all be on the same page. Right now, I need to eat.”
The instructions were lengthy but simple. Once she arrived, there could be no time wasted due to uncertainty. Every action had to be coordinated and every piece of the puzzle had to be in place or else unnecessary risks would be taken and something, anything, could go wrong and someone else could get hurt. Pressure was mounting and Clark knew that those who opposed him and the others involved grew increasingly uncomfortable with every day that passed. If they were going to act, the time was upon them.
His instructions to her began and ended with caution, reassurance, and gratitude. He understood the risk that she was taking, even if she was not fully aware of it. His first concern, for this action, was to protect her. She was entirely outside of the situation only to be brought in as a last resort, and Clark would never forgive himself should something happen to her. Ray Kessler was dead, Lisa was still hospitalized, and he couldn’t bear to have Julie’s name added to the list in any form for any reason.
He told her where to go and when to be there. The instructions continued on to her specific actions, the do’s and don’ts of her behavior, and what do to immediately afterward. The plan was multifaceted and included more than one failsafe mechanism. Everything was to take place in less than forty-eight hours. If there were no problems or questions, she was to send him a single email consisting of a single line from Shakespeare’s Richard III, in case his email account had also been compromised. He considered that complication highly unlikely but he could not afford to take chances or cut corners. If she was unable to make it, she was to send an email that said just that and nothing more. No unnecessary details revealed and yet no stone left unturned.
Clark would check his email on Sunday afternoon and again on Sunday night. If he had no messages by then, he would check once more on Monday morning before heading to the predetermined location. He did not want to reschedule but he would, if necessary. The situation was best resolved as soon as possible and that was the primary objective.
Lilly walked into the station and called out his boss’ name. “Darrell, you here?” he shouted, looking around as he waited for a response.
Sparks dried his hands with a paper towel as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Enjoying your day off?” he asked.
“Ain’t nothing like spending your day off tailing a car around for two hours.” Lilly followed him into the office. “You know, when we was kids we used to cruise around and stuff but we didn’t just wander ‘round aimlessly.”
“You have to remember I’m about ten years older than you, Carl. Why do you bring that up?”
“I followed them out to Monroeville today and the first thing they did was go to that Comfort Inn right off the main drag.”
“Was it just the Clark kid and the girl?” Sparks asked.
“No, it was all three of ‘em. They just pulled around back and sat. They was back there for a couple of minutes and took off again. I didn’t go all the way back there to see what was going on ‘cause they’d see me but there’s only one way in and one way out so they weren’t going nowhere. After that they went down to the hospital for a while, probably to see the other girl.”
Sparks thought about what he’d just heard for a few seconds and asked, “They just sat back there for a few minutes and then left?”
“Yep. Weird, huh?”
The chief’s speech drifted as he thought. “Yeah. Weird.”
Sparks didn’t know what to make of the information he’d just received. Their phone service had been rendered useless and they were being watched any and every time they went anywhere for anything. Surely they were in need of entertainment but how would that come from sitting behind a seldom used hotel, and for only a couple of minutes, no less? None of it made sense. The trip to the hospital did but that was not of any particular concern, not to mention fully expected.
There was only so much surveillance that could be done and so many precautionary measures that could be taken before they crossed the line into overkill. If their measures became any more extreme, they were risking going too far and, as a result, exposing themselves to those who did not need to know.
Lilly continued talking but Sparks was barely listening, catching enough of the words to realize that the subject matter didn’t interest him. He had better things to do and more important things to consider. Sparks had to take time to weigh his options. That is why Sunday, his day off, would be spent in his sole place of refuge.
He was going fishing.
Alone.
CHAPTER
33
He was uncomfortable but growing used to the feeling in light of recent events. Clark sat in the parking lot of the Monroeville Mall, checking the time both on his watch and on the dashboard clock every few seconds. It seemed as if time were standing still. Every minute took a year to elapse and there was nothing he could do to increase the speed. Kara sat beside him, wearing the seemingly painted-on low rise jeans that any other time would have been a complete distraction, and a tight shirt that left two or three inches of her midriff exposed. The sun reflected off of the exposed skin, catching his eye and giving him an excuse to look. Adam lay on his back in the backseat, staring at the ceiling of the car. It was not time quite yet.
“How much longer, double-oh-seven?” Adam asked.
“Ten minutes or so,” Clark replied. He looked at Kara, who was now staring at the dashboard clock as well. A mixed CD of his favorite pieces of classical music played softly through the speakers. It was usually the disc he played as he fell asleep but for the moment his favorite piece was all that could completely relax him. Mozart’s Fantasia in D Minor, Clark’s favorite piano sonata, was the current track.
On the outside, Ryan was the cool, calm, and collected secret agent that is seen in almost every spy movie ever made. He rarely spoke and kept his attention focused straight ahead, his eyes moving side to side, taking in everything around him in detail and looking for anything out of the ordinary. Inside, his mind raced. Constructing the plan had not been simple and he’d gone through at least ten pieces of paper while taking notes to keep track of the details. Every precaution that he could think of was in place. Even the most outlandish ideas were given equal time. If he’d learned anything it was to expect the unexpected, even the ridiculous, but he was still an amateur, albeit a knowledgeable one.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Kara asked.
Clark kept his eyes trained straight ahead. They were parked facing the entrance, able to see every car that traveled in or out. “I’m not sure of much of anything anymore but this is the best chance we’ll have.”
“How much longer?” Adam asked.
“Five minutes.”
“You’re like a five-year-old asking ‘Are we there yet?’” Kara said.
Ryan felt beside the seat, checking for the tenth time to make certain the envelope was there. The business-sized envelope was the key to the operation. Without its contents, nothing could be accomplished. The three of them had spent the night before composing a three-page statement detailing every incident of the past weeks. Each time Clark flashed back to the break-in, he instinctively reached up and felt the still-bandaged wound on his right arm. The soreness was persistent, a scar inevitable.
After each of them had signed the three-page statement and uploaded a high resolution scanned copy to a web server for safe keeping, Clark burned three DVDs of the incriminating video tape that was once thought to be lost. Per his instructions to Julie, each disc would be given to a separate law enforcement organization: FBI, DEA, and the West Virginia State Police. The third disc had to be handled carefully, especially since they knew the State Police had its own watchdog on the locals’ payroll.
Still, he had not felt truly confident about executing his idea until that morning. Upon checking his email using the connection from the back lot of the hotel, the confirmation message from Julie was waiting in his inbox. To anyone that may have breached his email security, the body of the message would not only have been totally innocuous but also nonsensical. To another reader the message was useless. To Clark, it was the sign that everything was a go. He clicked on the subject heading and the message body appeared.
I saw this and thought of you.
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this Son of York!
Jules
Message received, in more ways than one. It was all he needed to see.
Game on, Ryan thought.
“Well, well, well,” Clark said with a look in the rearview mirror. “Our friend’s here, and right on time I might add.” A crooked grin formed at the corner of his mouth.