“Yeah, well. Can you help me win this one battle?” She grimaced hopefully.
“You know I really shouldn’t, but I guess with the timelines we’re facing, I could help you out this once.” He switched screens and opened an administrative session, quickly modifying the security on the requested files. “You have sufficient rights to copy the files you need for the next two hours.”
“You’re a doll, Norbert. I owe you big time.”
“Excellent. I’m thinking Friday night on the town, dinner, dancing, then a nightcap at my place.” For a geek he had a pretty good line.
“Sounds good. Let me know how it goes.”
Norbert laughed. “That’s right. You only want me for my mind.”
“Maybe if phase two turns out okay I’ll take you out for lunch.”
Norbert was surprised. “Really?”
“Hey, don’t get serious on me. It’s only lunch, and not until we get some free time. Aren’t you pretty bogged down preparing for phase two?”
“No. I mean Mason has me working on another project. Exclusively.”
Kayoko was puzzled. “Well, I don’t get that. We can’t go forward without your department fully engaged. What are you working on, anyway?”
“I think you’d better ask Mr. Mason about that. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“I’m glad you did. This gives me a reason to talk to Tom. I’m still going to download the files first, though.”
“Probably wise.” He hesitated a moment. “No dinner, though, huh?”
“When things settle down a bit. Okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that. Now don’t forget about the two hour time limit on those files.”
“Thanks, Norbert.” She hung up, and wasted no time copying the files she needed from the secure server, and then sought out Snelling. Something peculiar was going on, and she wondered if he knew about it. She found him talking to one of the secretaries.
“Tom, we need to talk.” He turned and gave her a look that was intended to intimidate, but since she had no respect for him, it didn’t work.
“In a moment.” He turned back to the secretary, who was clearly bored by what he was saying. Kayoko looked at her watch and moved a step closer. Snelling felt her presence, and sensing that his flirtation with the secretary was not being well received, excused himself and faced Kayoko.
“What is so important?”
“I’m sorry to break up your, ah, meeting.” She looked past him at the departing young woman. “But there’s something that we need to discuss.”
“I thought you might be approaching me soon. Well let me tell you…” He had raised his voice, intending to make an example of Kayoko in front of the other office workers.
She cut him off. “Tom, this needs to be done in your office.”
“Oh, I think we can discuss your file privileges right here.”
“This isn’t about file privileges,” she said. “We really need to go to your office.” She turned and walked away. He looked around, and no one seemed to notice, so he followed her into his office. She closed the door as he walked past her.
“This had better be good, Kayoko.”
“I don’t know if it’s good or bad. Maybe you can tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
She crossed her arms, certain that he was playing games. “What’s going on with the phase two preparations?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Snelling. “We’re on schedule, everything’s clean and green.”
“Then why has the computer center been assigned exclusively to another project?”
“They haven’t. They couldn’t be. We need their input to create the matrix.”
“I have it on good authority that it’s happened.” Kayoko could tell that he didn’t know. She might not like the man, and they seldom agreed on even the most elementary decisions, but she knew his moods, and he was concerned now.
“If you’re right–and that’s a big if–then something is going on.”
“So how do we find out?” asked Kayoko, still displaying some attitude.
“We’ll have to talk to Mason.”
“Is that wise? It seems clear that he doesn’t want us to know.”
Snelling shrugged. “I don’t see any other option. We can’t pretend that we don’t know.”
“Should we see him together?”
Snelling considered this. He didn’t mind facing the man alone, but Kayoko had a certain charm about her that seemed to disarm Mason.
“We’ll do it together. Now.” He called to ask if they could see him, and Mason said he would come to Snelling’s office. He arrived directly.
Snelling greeted him enthusiastically. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Not a problem,” said Mason. “Hello, Kayoko.”
“Hello.” She smiled, and he seemed to soften.
“Now, what’s this about?” He assumed that he had been called to referee one of their frequent disagreements.
Snelling glanced uneasily at Kayoko. “We heard a rumor that the computer center has been reassigned, that they’re no longer working on setting up the phase two protocols.”
Mason folded his arms. Whatever softening had been accomplished by Kayoko’s presence quickly dissipated. “Where’d you hear this?”
“It was, uh, well, it came from…”
“I’m the one who heard it,” said Kayoko. “And I’d rather not say where. But I’m concerned about it, because we need the computer center to help prepare the matrix.”
“You’re right to be concerned,” said Mason. “But we’ve come across some technical problems that require immediate attention.”
“So the rumor is true?” asked Kayoko.
“Yes, but we don’t think the redirection of technical resources will be long term. Once the problem is solved, everything will go back to normal.”
Snelling regained his voice. “What exactly is the problem?”
“It’s a security matter, and as such isn’t open for discussion. I don’t want any further dissemination of this information. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” said Snelling.
“Good. Then just proceed as normal. Design the matrix, work up your profile renderings, and whatever else you would normally do at this stage of the project.”
Snelling walked out from behind his desk. “This will present enormous problems. Much of the up front work requires models that are provided by the computer people. Without them we’re really up against it.”
“Can’t be helped,” said Mason. “Do what you can, and we’ll fill in the gaps later. Anything else?” The finality in his tone made it clear that the only acceptable answer was ‘no’.
Snelling complied. “We’ll do our best, Mr. Mason.”
“Excellent.” With a bob of his head towards Kayoko, he turned and left the office.
Kayoko peeked outside to be sure Mason was gone, then looked at Snelling. “What are we going to do?”
Snelling ran his fingers through his hair. “What can I tell you? We’ll go through the motions, build the matrix, or at least the lattice structure. I don’t know what’s going on, but it must be big.”
“He said something about security.”
“Yeah, he did, didn’t he? Hey, I’ll bet that has something to do with how my computer was messed with the other day. I guess I owe you an apology.”
This, she decided, was not the time for full disclosure. “Well, we all make mistakes. Let’s just try and cooperate from here on, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
***
Slocum had been at loose ends since Stanley and his son moved into his apartment. He felt like a third wheel, unable to contribute to the highly technical work that needed to be done. He knew there would be a role for him to play when Stanley and Katherine finally succeeded in penetrating the agency’s system, but until then he would have to bide his time. On this particular morning he decided to drive to
the park after everyone had left. He needed some exercise, and time to think. Walking around the park helped clear his mind.
He chose a park that was several miles from his apartment. Ever cautious, he wanted to be sure he wasn’t spotted too close to home base, although the likelihood of someone from the agency running into him was extremely remote. Before leaving his car, Slocum carefully hid his gun under the seat. He didn’t like to carry it when he walked, and wouldn’t need it in the park.
Confident that he had taken all necessary precautions, he strolled quietly along a deserted path. He was just starting to unwind a bit, when somewhere ahead of him a twig snapped, and Slocum’s head shot up. A figure stood facing him, twenty feet away.
Bobo, arms crossed, smiled. “So we meet again.”
The swagger in his step as he slowly walked forward could only mean that he was not alone. Bobo would never have the guts to face a man one on one. Slocum looked behind him, where two others had moved up. There would surely be more.
“Hello, Bobo. What brings you to the park on such a fine day?” Stall; let him talk. Assess the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses. Always probe, and then develop a strategy. Strike or retreat. First acquire intelligence. Slocum’s demeanor appeared dull, but his mind raced.
“Me and my friends,” Bobo waved his hand towards the surrounding trees and bushes. “Don’t usually come to this particular park. But I happened to see you drive past me, and thought I would see what it was that held such an attraction for you.”
Slocum tried to goad him into revealing more. “You move fast, to get all your friends together so quickly. But then, I guess it couldn’t take that long, could it?”
Bobo laughed it off. “Mister, you are truly going to regret the day you met me.”
“I already do. But tell me one thing if you would.”
“What’s that?”
“Why do they call you Bobo?”
He needed him to come closer, within a few feet. The derisive way he spat out his name almost had the desired effect. Bobo started forward. Just when Slocum was about to lunge for him, Bobo changed his mind. He stopped where he was and looked behind Slocum.
“Take him.”
Slocum whirled, just as a young man with long black hair and dirty jeans rushed him. He grabbed the man’s leading arm and threw him over his hip to the ground, quickly spinning to face a second attacker, who wielded a knife.
They circled each other warily, and as the man with the knife feinted a thrust, Slocum stepped back, and someone grabbed him from behind, trapping his arms in a powerful grip. He struggled to free himself, and almost succeeded, but then was rushed by several more men, who threw him to the ground, pinning him.
“Tie him up!” said Bobo.
Slocum was forced to sit up, his hands bound behind him with a short length of rope brought along for the purpose.
“Now we go for a little ride, my friend.” Bobo looked into Slocum’s face from a few inches away. “What’s your name?”
Slocum’s head slumped forward slightly. “Go to hell, Bobo.”
Bobo motioned to one of the other gang members. “Let’s go.” They dragged Slocum to a waiting car. “Put him in the back, gag him, and lay him down on the seat until we get to the projects. You two,” he pointed to two young men. “Bring his car. Follow us, but don’t get stopped by the cops.”
With Slocum face down in the back seat, the cars were soon on their way. He tried to observe which direction they were going, but as soon as he lifted his head someone cracked him on the skull with a blunt object. He didn’t try again, and even stopped counting turns after about ten minutes. The sounds of traffic soon increased, and he correctly surmised that they were nearing the projects.
“Slow down,” said Bobo. He looked around for any sign of police cruisers. He didn’t expect any, since they avoided the projects like the plague. But Bobo didn’t get to be twenty-three by being careless.
Slocum’s car was following about a half mile behind, and when Bobo indicated for the driver to pull over, the rear car followed suit, pulling up directly in back of them. The doors on both cars opened and the occupants gathered between the vehicles.
“Get him out. I wish I knew what to call him,” said Bobo.
“Let’s call him ‘dead man walking’,” said someone. Everyone laughed.
“We better get him inside,” said Bobo. “Bring him up to the crib.” He referred to the gang’s meeting place, an unoccupied flat in one of the dilapidated public housing buildings.
They quickly yanked Slocum from the back seat and pulled him to his feet. He stumbled several times as they pushed him towards the nearest building, nearly losing his footing. The third time he went to one knee, feigning weakness.
“Hold on a minute, guys. I’m not as young as you, and I have a bad heart.”
“Shut up,” said Bobo. “You were healthy enough to shoot Chico, weren’t you? Just keep moving.”
Slocum nodded and slowly rose, but they seemed to ease off a bit, and several minutes later they were at the side entrance to the building.
“You and you, make sure it’s clear.” Bobo trusted no one, least of all the other gangs, who could easily have an ambush planned, even here on his home turf. Not likely, but possible.
The two returned quickly, reporting that all was quiet. Slocum was dragged up three flights of stairs, and Bobo and his entourage soon had him secured to a chair in the living room of their hideout. His arms were tied behind the straight-backed wooden chair, with each ankle secured to one of the chair’s legs. Robert Slocum was quite immobile. Bobo stood in front of him.
“The first thing you’re going to do is tell me your name.” Bobo folded his arms and smiled.
“I don’t think so. Bozo.”
Bobo had started to turn away, then quickly turned back. “What did you say?”
Slocum assumed a look of innocence. “Oh. Maybe you’re too young to remember. I said Bozo. I thought that was your name, you know, like the…clown.” It was the halting way that Slocum pronounced the word ‘clown’ that set Bobo off.
“Are you saying I’m a clown?” He tilted his head slightly to the side and knit his brows. Slocum couldn’t help but think that with the full regalia he would indeed resemble the famous jester.
“Bozo, I mean, Bobo, now come on. Where’s your sense of humor?”
Bobo just stared at him. He could tell that a couple of the other gang members were snickering. “Humor? You want to see humor? Okay, how’s this?” Bobo backhanded Slocum across the cheek, barely moving Slocum’s stony face.
“If that’s the best you’ve got, against an unarmed, tied up old man, then you are a joke. Bozo.”
Several of the others laughed out loud. This, Bobo knew, was dangerous, because they were laughing at him.
“Shut up you idiots. You think this guy is so tough? I’ll teach him to mess with Bobo. Wait here, and try not to let him get away. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned and stormed out of the apartment.
Slocum let a minute pass before he addressed the remaining gang members. “So Bobo’s your boss, huh?”
One of them sat on the floor, his back to the wall. He answered without getting up. “No one’s our boss, man. We’re our own boss.”
“Seems to me that Bobo’s the man. You guys are pretty scared of him, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. I ain’t scared of nothing.”
“Sure,” said Slocum. “I’ll shut up. Just like you do when Bobo’s around. I’m scared because I’m tied to a chair and you have knives. What’s your excuse?”
The gang member was about to open his mouth, when the door opened and Bobo walked in. He could sense the tension.
“What’s going on?”
Slocum laughed. “Your boys were just telling me how no one is in charge here, and how they aren’t afraid of you. I didn’t believe them, though.”
“What’s the matter with you idiots?” yelled Bobo. “You let him start talking some crap to yo
u?”
“No, man, it wasn’t like that. He’s just talking trash. Don’t mean nothin’.”
Bobo glared at him. “Better not.” He held a hypodermic needle in his right hand, a small vial in the other. He walked in front of Slocum and held the needle out. “We’re going to party now, dude. You know what this is?” He held the needle up.
Slocum shook his head. “No.”
“Black Magic. Special designer mix–just came on the market. I have to warn you, it’s still experimental. The dosage can be tricky, but man, what a trip.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” said Slocum.
Bobo laughed. “Oh, but I insist.”
He motioned for the others to hold his arm and pull his sleeve back. Slocum fought as best he could, but was powerless to prevent the injection. They released his arm and he ceased his struggling.
“Takes about five minutes to really get going, but you should start to feel a little lightheaded any time now,” said Bobo.
After several minutes he looked closely at Slocum’s face. The eyes were stony cold, unmoving. He was unaware of the internal struggle that Slocum was waging to fight the effect of the drug. In most people the symptoms would have already been manifested. Slocum was not most people. Bobo backed away.
“Wow, man. This must have been a weak batch. I better give him some more.”
He prepared a second shot, and this time easily administered it. Slocum was beginning to relax, and soon his head slumped forward. One of the younger gang members cackled.
“Wow, is he trippin’, or what!”
Bobo studied Slocum’s reaction with concern. He should be spacing out on a pretty funky high, but instead he seemed to be unconscious. “Shut up you moron.” He lifted one of Slocum’s eyelids and closely examined the pupil. “Damn. Get him back to the car.”
“Why? What’s going on, Bobo?”
“We gave him too much; I think he OD’d. He might die.”
“You gave him too much. We didn’t even know what you were doing.”
“You held him,” said Bobo. “That makes you as guilty as me. Don’t be stupid. Just get him in the car. We’ll dump him near the hospital.”
They hesitated for only a moment, and then quickly obeyed. Two scouts again went ahead to make sure the coast was clear, and the now limp form of Robert Slocum was dragged downstairs and placed in his own car.
Palm Sunday Page 14