by J. A. Faura
The man’s candor and his heavy Brooklyn accent made Steven grin in spite of himself. He hadn’t thought about that before now. With the trial looming and everything else that had happened, it was going to be next to impossible to do anything now without a long tail of photographers following. The time waiting had actually proven to be useful as he had been able to consider what to do next. The first thing he had concluded was that there was no way he would tell the General about any of this. He knew if he did the old man would insist on a security detail, not like the one that Drew and Max’s firm had retained, but operatives, men that would never be seen and would always be around. Besides the security, he would most likely insist on following up on Barlow and on building a file on the man, and if Steven told him he didn’t want that, the old man would agree, and then do it anyway without him knowing. He couldn’t take the risk.
He didn’t know why and how, but he was completely convinced that Barlow would keep to his word and forget about him and his family so long as Loomis did the same. It had been a brilliant stroke, really. As soon as Barlow heard about what happened to Riche and the background of the person who had done it, he believed his own work might come under scrutiny and authorities might want to revisit some of the unsolved cases where young people or children had disappeared. Loomis had done what he did because of his daughter, she had been his connection to the whole thing, but once he made public his reasoning and his defense, Barlow had quite correctly assumed that Loomis had done extensive research.
If Loomis had come across Barlow’s name or come to any conclusions about other cases of serial murders or disappearances, Barlow didn’t know that. So he had paid Steven a visit, perhaps to probe and find out more about Riche, but more likely to see if there was any recognition of him and his work on Steven’s face. After they had parted company, Steven had sent the Meeks brothers in to find more information and Barlow had sniffed them out. That meant that either he had much more sophisticated security measures than they had given him credit for all along or he had gotten such measures after their meeting because he knew Steven would follow up on him and try to get more information. Either way, the man was not to be trifled with, especially now, with the world watching and with Steven about to go to trial.
So not telling the old man about it had been an easier decision than he had anticipated, but he had also come to the conclusion that whether he wanted to or not, there were people he had to tell about this. He had to let the Twins know that they had been made, something he was not looking forward to doing. To his knowledge, they had never been detected before, and something like this was bound to sting. He also had to tell Max and Drew. They were his attorneys and therefore bound by the attorney-client privilege. They would not repeat anything he told them even at the risk of going to jail, and they were going to be working closely together for months, so they had a right to know. Now that Loomis had a better idea of Barlow’s capabilities, he had to consider the possibility that their offices might be bugged and that they might be followed. He would tell them, but he had to make sure they wouldn’t overreact and do something dumb like insist on calling the FBI or other law enforcement organizations.
From now on, they would be escorted everywhere by a security team, not the security that Drew had arranged for, which was more concerned with photographers and religious nuts, but a hand-picked detail, professionals trained in the craft of counter-surveillance, personal security and close-quarters combat. He would also have the law offices and his own condo swept for bugs, something that would be much easier with Beth out of town. He knew the people he wanted on the team and would talk to the General to clear it as soon as he got to Max’s offices. He didn’t want GIC people, as that would draw too much attention and unwanted scrutiny to the company, but every one of the people that he was thinking about for this was a GIC contractor and every one of them had extensive experience watching the backs of some very important people around the world, people who more often than not had a bull’s-eye on their back. He would have to explain to the old man that the media was getting more intense and they were using high-end technology to track his and his lawyers’ movements. It wasn’t a lie, that was exactly the case, but it wasn’t the complete story either, and he was afraid that his boss, with his keen ability to read people, would see through it.
As they finally got to the building, Steven was completely blown away by the number of news trucks, antennas, photographers and reporters. He had thought that the media covering the finding of the warehouse and the girls and then the shooting was on a scale he hadn’t seen before, but this made that look like a press conference for a small-town politician. The car drove into the building’s basement, but before the automatic gate could roll down an adventurous photographer rolled under it and ran after the car. He was met by the building’s security, which had been put on alert for just such a thing. Drew and Max were waiting for him as soon as he got out of the elevator. He had barely stepped into the front lobby when both men came up at the same time.
Drew was the first to reach him, “Steven! What the fuck is going on?! Are you alright? What were you doing in New Jersey?!”
Max got there a step behind Drew with his hand outstretched, “Easy cowboy, let the man breathe.”
Steven shook Max’s hand and then turned to address Drew, “Is there somewhere secure where we can talk?”
Drew turned to Max, “I don’t know, is there?”
Max smiled, “Sure, I told you before. We can use my office. We have it swept monthly. Lots of pretty sensitive negotiations on a lot of sensitive clients. We’ve actually found a few bugs over the years.”
Drew stared at Max, “Are you kidding? Bugs, as in electronic monitoring things, those kind of bugs?”
Max answered the question as the group started walking to his office, “I know it’s hard for a straight-laced, do-gooder type like you to imagine, but high-stakes law is just as vulnerable to industrial espionage as the best R&D shops. Lots of people would love to learn ahead of time when we are going to settle a case.”
When they got to Max’s office, Steven took the sofa while Drew repositioned a chair to sit in front of him. Max settled on the other end of the sofa. It was clear that Drew was itching to hear the story, but Steven had to take a moment to settle down, and he needed a cold drink because his throat was parched.
“Max, would you mind grabbing me a bottle of water?”
Drew beat him to it and went over to the fridge to get the water.
Max took advantage, “Would you mind pouring me a glass of the Scotch that’s on my desk while you’re up?”
Drew smiled, “Anything else while I’m up?”
Steven shook his head. He was clearly more pensive than usual and he had a slight frown on his face, something that wasn’t lost on Max, “So what’s up, kid? What the hell happened to you?”
Drew came back with the drinks and handed the bottle of water to Steven, who opened it and took three long pulls from it. He took a deep breath, leaned forward so his arms were resting on his knees and began telling the story. He explained the meeting with Barlow at his office, how he had sensed there was something iffy about the guy. He told them about his own research on the man and that he had contacted some people to look deeper into his background, although he omitted just how deep those people were going to look. He told them about his run-in with the woman as he was getting in the car and how he believed it had been then that he had been drugged, that there really wasn’t any other way it could have been done, unless Barlow had somehow rigged the car so he could knock him out with something in a gas form, but there hadn’t been any smell that Steven could detect. He finished by explaining to the two attorneys that Barlow had promised to stay away and leave him and his family alone if he was willing to do the same and simply leave Barlow alone.
“I believe him. He’s not interested in me or my family as a part of what he termed his ‘work.’ He did what he did because I went after him and s
tarted digging. My people are the best at what they do, so for him to have detected them it took some pretty serious equipment and other countermeasures, stuff that he probably didn’t choose himself, which means that he’s got people working for him.”
Drew fell back into his chair and let his arms dangle as he tried to absorb everything he had just heard. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide. He looked exactly like he should, like a criminal defense attorney who’d just heard that his client, a client he was defending for first-degree murder and who was making the claim that what he had killed was not a human being, had been abducted in broad daylight, taken to a dirty motel in New Jersey and told not to keep digging into his abductor’s business. Max looked at Steven for a long time after he finished telling his story and gulped his Scotch down.
He too looked perplexed, but he’d been an attorney far longer than Drew and had seen some pretty weird things along a colorful career. “Christ, Steven, what are you planning on doing?”
Steven stood up, walked over to Zeidler, took his empty glass and walked over to the desk to pour him another Scotch. “As far as Barlow, nothing. I believe him when he says he’ll stay away as long as I stay away from him and his work. Whatever it is he’s been doing, he’s been doing it for a long time, and he’s afraid that all of it will have been wasted if he gets found out.
“I’m going to put together a team to run counter-surveillance during the trial. I don’t think he’ll try to do anything, but I don’t plan to be unprepared in case he decides he’s suddenly interested. I underestimated him once and I don’t intend on doing it again.”
He didn’t tell them about the other security teams he planned on putting together.
Drew, finally out of his trance-like state, got up and chimed in, “Am I hearing this correctly? A man kidnaps you in front of your house, takes you to some shitty motel in New Jersey and sweats you while you’re handcuffed to a chair, and you’re not going to do anything?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Steven, we have to tell the authorities, we have to tell the FBI, the DA, somebody!”
Steven now poured another glass of Scotch and walked over to the two men, handing each a healthy shot. Max understood the younger lawyer’s reaction, it was perfectly normal and to be expected, but he needed for him to think carefully and not overreact.
He answered for Steven, “Drew, calm down and think about it. What exactly do you think Steven would say? ‘Yes, officer, I was taken to a shitty motel somewhere in New Jersey and handcuffed to a chair while this well-respected FBI profiler, who, by the way, I believe is responsible for dozens of murders and disappearances, warned me to stay out of his business.’ Do you see how ludicrous that sounds? And let’s not forget, Steven’s face is plastered on every newscast and newspaper in the country and he’s been indicted for first-degree murder.
“Even if that wasn’t the case, though, it would still be a pretty far-fetched story. The cops or the FBI might investigate it, just so they can say they’re doing their job, but you and I both know they’d be thinking that Steven was nuts, probably lost it because of what he’s been through. No, I think Steven’s right on this one, he keeps his mouth shut, arranges for security and gets ready for his trial.”
Drew sat back down and ran both hands through his hair. He knew Max was right, everything he said made sense, but the whole situation was too surreal for him to reconcile. Kidnapping? Getting knocked out by women with presents? Deranged doctor victimizing innocent people? It all sounded like so much Hollywood bullshit. These kinds of thing just didn’t happen in the real world, they just didn’t.
Steven was thankful for Max’s intervention. He was on edge himself and would have more than likely snapped at Drew as he explained the situation. Now that he’d had some time to consider things from afar, he had to admit that the whole thing did in fact sound like some bad movie of the week, something starring one of the original 90210 actors. And it wasn’t just Barlow that made it so, it was the whole business, Riche, the shooting, everything. Well, they were in it now, Steven more than anybody else. He asked if there was a secure phone line he could use, and Max told him he could use the phone in his office as it had also been swept for listening devices. Max walked over to Drew, who was still shell-shocked, and led him out. The first thing Steven did was to call Beth to check on her and the kids. She sounded good, stronger than she had sounded just a couple of days ago and that was good news, it meant that she was healing and that gave him a great deal of comfort. She was a bit upset with him for not calling before now, but she also understood that he had a lot on his plate.
After he hung up with Beth, he called the Twins at the agreed upon number, “CECIL.”
Steven, sitting in Max’s chair, began to doodle on a pad, “Hey C, it’s Steven. Listen, I don’t want to spend too long on the phone, but I needed to call you guys. You’ve been made, the bastard had some countermeasures and he made you guys.”
There was silence on the other end of the line as Cecil processed what he had just heard.
After a few seconds, Steven could hear him talking to who he assumed was Thurman, “We were made. Steven says the guy had countermeasures.”
He heard Thurman’s reaction over the phone, “Shit, I knew we shouldn’t have used that guy, I knew it!”
Cecil came back on the line, “Sorry, Steven, Thurman’s not taking it well. The Russian was busy, so we used a new guy for the hacking, someone referred by some of our folks at NSA. He’s good, but he’s not used to this type of work, and he probably figured this guy was just another egghead who had no clue about digital security. It had to be the hacking end of the job that gave us away. Thurman and I did our end clean, no traces and no blowback.”
Steven had guessed as much, he knew the Twins too well to believe they had made a mistake, “Well, it’s done now. Can you guys get a few more people and put together a security detail to cover my family and another to cover my legal team? No affiliated people, contractors, and they need to be discreet.”
Cecil thought for a couple of beats, “I think we can handle that. Are you thinking this guy is going to come after you? Hey, now that I think of it, how do you know he made us?”
Steven thought about the question. He had to be careful about what he told them. He knew he had to tell them about his conversation with Barlow, but he also knew he couldn’t tell them the whole story. Cecil and Thurman were as loyal as anyone in this business could be, but they, like him, owed a lot to the General and they genuinely cared about Steven, so as much as he wanted to tell them everything, he didn’t want to put them in the position to have to lie to the old man, and Steven knew that once they talked to the old man about the extra security, he would start asking questions.
“Barlow told me himself. We had a nice conversation where he let me know that his security had detected someone digging around. You’re probably right, it was the hacking end of the operation. He didn’t say anything specifically, but it makes sense.”
There was another brief silence on the other end of the line. Steven was guessing that Cecil was probably thinking things over and trying to figure out exactly what was going on with Barlow and himself.
As if to confirm it, Cecil had more questions, “Wait a minute, what do you mean you ‘had a nice conversation with him’? When exactly did that happen? We’ve been watching his place around the clock.”
Steven knew they would ask the question and he thought he knew what he wanted to answer, but now that they had asked he was once again trying to figure out how to answer it. “Yeah, we had another brief meeting and he let me know. He must have made it past you in a delivery truck or maybe he was wearing a disguise. He might not have spotted you, but when he found out about the hacking into his information, he probably guessed he was being watched.”
Cecil thought about that. His people had been tailing Barlow around the clock, but the truth was that, like Steven, they had simply underestimated the man.
Steven went
on, “He also let me know he had no interest in me or my family as long as I stayed out of his business, and for what it’s worth, I believed him. So, you and Thurman need to stay clear, please.”
Cecil replied instantly, “What? Steven, c’mon man, this guy got your attention for a reason. Now you’re just going to let it go because he came and told you to stay out of his business? That doesn’t sound like you, man.”
Steven didn’t have time to get into it with Cecil and he let him know it, “Cecil, I appreciate it, brother, but I have way too much on my plate to get into it. You’re right, he did get my attention, and under different circumstances I’d go after the guy, but right now I’m facing murder charges, the entire world is scrutinizing my every move, and I just don’t have the time or the inclination to get into whatever this guy is doing.
“I also have my family’s safety to think about. There’s no way I can do anything without knowing I’ll be there to protect them, and I won’t know that until this trial is over. Do you understand that?”
Cecil listened. He knew Steven was right, everybody and their sister was only too eager to get as much information on Steven Loomis as they could possibly get. Even under optimal circumstances, going after someone like Barlow required the right technological resources, preparation and planning, and Steven could not do any of those things right now.
Cecil finally got it, “I hear you. I guess you’re pretty jammed up right now.”
Steven thought to himself ‘you think’ but to Cecil he said, “That’s right, and I need to know that you guys are not going to go rogue on me and try to get more information on the guy on your own. I’m serious, Cecil, no freelancing.”
Cecil got the point, “Alright, alright, I got it. Have you told the old man yet?”