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BrainWeb Page 20

by Douglas E. Richards


  “I was right, wasn’t I?” said Fisher, putting the proper mixture of sadness and frustration into his tone. “These people are very corrupt. Don’t you see why it is so important to get a good man into the White House?” He rolled his eyes, certain that he was more ruthless and corrupt than Shaw could ever be. But also a better actor.

  “Yes,” said Hall. “This was my first assignment, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you were entirely right.”

  “So what did you find?” asked Fisher in almost bored tones, masking his eagerness.

  “He’s made gains from insider trading a number of times. He’s embezzled millions of dollars from the pension funds of low-wage employees. He’s paid his wife and members of his family hundreds of thousands of dollars in fake consulting fees. He’s evaded taxes each year for over a decade, hiding income in offshore accounts—which I have the numbers for—and not disclosing property. He’s taken bribes any number of times. He’s expensed five-figure business trips that he didn’t even really take.” Hall paused. “That’s all I can remember for now, but my report will be very thorough.”

  “I’ll look forward to reading it.”

  “Just remember how helpful I’m being,” said Hall. “And how helpful I’ll continue to be. But this changes instantly the moment Megan Emerson has so much as a bruise on her. Or even if she stops getting VIP treatment.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Nick,” said Fisher. “But back to Shaw. Anything on the sexual front?”

  “A lot. But no definitive proof. So it would be a he said, she said situation.”

  “Tell me anyway,” said Fisher. “You never know what I might find useful.”

  Actually, he did know this would be useful, despite what he had told Hall about proof. The more of Shaw’s sexual habits and indiscretions he knew of, even if he couldn’t prove them, the better he would be able to intimidate the shit out of the man.

  By demonstrating not only that he knew of Shaw’s illegal activities but also had intimate knowledge of his bedroom behavior, he would prove just how deep in Shaw’s head he really was. The SEIU leader would go mad trying to figure out how Fisher could possibly know what he knew. He would fear him and wonder what other dirt he might have, beyond even what he chose to disclose.

  Fisher would assure Shaw that he only wanted his support, and that if this was given, his past would not come back to haunt him, and his future would be blindingly bright.

  But he couldn’t tell this to Hall. He still needed to come across as a good Samaritan, a crusader for justice, and these calculations didn’t fit this image.

  “He’s had several extra-marital affairs,” replied Hall. “I’ll be sure to include names and details in the report. He also uses prostitutes frequently.”

  “Why? Seems like he could get all the sex he wants for free.”

  Hall sighed. “He gets off on peeing on women before he has sex with them. He knows his wife and mistresses don’t share this particular . . . interest. So he spends some of the fortune he’s been accumulating illegally on women who are more than happy to become human urinals for the right price.”

  Fisher grinned broadly in delight. This was working out even better than he had hoped. He was all but guaranteed the White House. And they had only just begun.

  ***

  Marc Fisher finished reading Hall’s formal report and couldn’t stop smiling. He tried a few of Shaw’s accounts, using the login information Hall so kindly provided, and slipped right in like a dream.

  Hall had more than earned his hot tub and exercise equipment. Hell, Fisher would give the man full body massages himself if he would continue providing information as useful as this.

  He prepared himself a Manhattan, his cocktail of choice, and looked through his twenty-ninth story window at the streets below. By tomorrow at this time, he would be back in his primary residence in La Jolla, California, looking out over the Pacific Ocean and fantasizing about being the leader of the free world.

  As a warmth from the Manhattan suffused his body, he instructed his PDA to get Guy Shaw on a video connection. After Shaw accepted the call, and the briefest of preliminaries, Fisher got right to the point. “Guy, let me tell you why I called,” he said, relishing the moment. “I know it’s a bit early, but between you and me, I’m planning to declare for the presidency. And I want to know that I’ll have your full support.”

  Shaw eyed him in disbelief. “Marc, you’re a good politician,” he said. “And being Chair of the House Intelligence Committee is a great credential. So don’t worry,” he added with an insincere smile. “I’ll give you plenty of chances to win me over. But I’ll have to consider all the candidates who declare.”

  “Yeah. About that. I’ll want you to pretend you’re considering others. But I really need you to commit to me right now that I’ll be the one who gets your full support.”

  Shaw’s face darkened. “Marc, have you lost your fucking mind? You know I can’t do that.”

  “Really?” said Fisher, his eyes now gleaming with a feral intensity and his lips curled back into a predatory smile. “Because I’m betting you can. In fact, you’re about to find out just how persuasive I can be.”

  31

  Colonel Mike Campbell answered the secure call from Justin Girdler and the general’s 3-D image appeared on the screen on his desk. Girdler looked ashen. “There was an assault on Alex’s home less than an hour ago. He’s been abducted, but there is every reason to believe he’s still alive.”

  Campbell’s mouth dropped to the floor, and so many questions crossed his mind at the same time that for a moment he was unable to speak, like an old-fashioned typewriter whose keys had all been pressed at the same time, causing a hopeless jam. He managed to prioritize the questions and spit out the one that was most important.

  “Heather?” he asked anxiously.

  “She was out. Doesn’t know about it yet.”

  Campbell blew out a breath. That was lucky. At least one of them was safe. Nick, Megan, and now Alex. What the hell was going on? Their group of six was being picked off one by one, like actors in a bad horror movie.

  “How?” asked Campbell simply.

  Girdler had been put in sole charge of security, for Alex and for Theia’s pilot manufacturing facility. He had pulled strings and had not taken no for an answer, insisting that he was in a better position than anyone to understand the importance of security in both of these cases, and only a handful of men in the US had as much experience. Campbell had offered to help, but the general had told him this wasn’t necessary.

  Girdler sighed. “I have no idea how. But they were able to control the security system from the inside. They knew the door codes, our procedures, and altered the monitors somehow. I just learned of the attack a few minutes ago and have scrambled teams to try to find them. If they call in, I’ll have to take the call, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Girdler shook his head in confusion. “I triggered satellite protocols right away also. Somehow, the satellites haven’t been able to find them either. I have no idea who’s behind this, or how they managed any of it. But the dragnet I’ve triggered is massive, and I can’t believe they’ll slip through no matter how good they are.”

  “Would you ever have believed they could get this far?” asked Campbell pointedly.

  “No. But they can’t be supernatural. We’ll get Alex back.”

  “How are you sure he’s even alive?”

  “That’s just it. Everyone is alive.”

  “What do you mean, everyone? All your people on site?”

  “Yes. Thank God. These were all good men. The hostiles used tranquilizer darts and gas. None of the men had more than a bruise or a scratch. No sign of blood or a struggle. Has to be the cleanest op I’ve ever seen, in every way possible, especially considering what the hostiles were up against.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Campbell in excitement. “No matter how good the people who did this are, they can’t possibly know abou
t Alex’s implants. They’ll strip him of any electronics, but they have no idea he can communicate with us from inside his head. So he must still be unconscious. The moment he awakens, he can tell you exactly where he is and who took him.”

  “Provided he knows.”

  “Yes,” said Campbell, “provided he knows.” He paused. “Any idea at all who’s behind this? Who do you know who’s good enough to manage an op like this?”

  “No one. And no group. What they did is impossible.”

  “Whoever they are, the fact that they didn’t use lethal force makes this even more mysterious. I’m thrilled your men are okay, but it makes no sense. Are they a crack assault unit or grade school kids at a paintball outing? Since when are our enemies so gentle? How many times have you seen an attack on a heavily guarded and fortified position where the hostiles took so much care and effort not to hurt anyone?”

  “Never,” said Girdler. He shook his head. “You’re right. It doesn’t add up. Can’t just be charity or a happy accident. Too well planned. And their instincts would be to kill, leaving no possible witnesses or possibility of miscalculation. They must have done this to confuse us. Throw us off the trail, since this isn’t the MO of any group we know.”

  Campbell winced, almost imperceptibly. It was time to address the elephant in the room. “I know you’ve only had a few minutes to digest this, Justin, but . . .” He hesitated, his reluctance to continue evident. “Well, have you considered how this looks?”

  Girdler’s face crinkled up in confusion. “How this looks?”

  “Come on, Justin. I spoke with Drew Russell yesterday. I know you’ve been having him use his voodoo to assess your situation. And his assessment matches ours, as I know he told you. The horse is out of the barn. A court martial is now all but certain. Probably beginning in just a few days.”

  “I know,” said Girdler in resignation. “But I’m not going to let this affect me. Until they pry this office from my cold, dead hand, I’m going to continue carrying out my responsibilities.”

  “I get that,” said Campbell. “I really do. But you see how this looks, right? Someone just pulled off an impossible attack. And you were in charge of security. They seemed to have access to codes and information they couldn’t have had. Information that only you know.”

  Girdler frowned. “I am being slow, aren’t I?” he said in disgust. “You’re absolutely right. There is a primary suspect after all. Me.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Campbell stared at his boss, mentor, and long-time friend. They had been through so much together. He would trust his life to the general without an instant of hesitation. This man could not be behind this abduction. It was absurd. Preposterous. He would believe hamsters could perform brain surgery before he would believe this.

  But it was the only possibility. This couldn’t even be an attempt at framing the general, since no one could possibly have the information needed to do this. And why try to frame him? The winds had turned against Girdler, decisively, and he was going down anyway.

  The success of the raid was impossible. And Girdler’s involvement was impossible. So what was left?

  “All fingers really do point my way,” said Girdler. “With no other explanation possible. I really am the only one who could have done this.” He paused. “I’m guessing they’ll be sending a team to apprehend me as soon as they figure this out. Probably by tomorrow night at the latest.”

  There was a long silence as both men were left with their thoughts. Campbell was sure they were missing something. They had to be. But the walls were closing in, and unless they could think of even a remote, crazy way this could have happened, they would continue to do so.

  “Nick could have done this,” said Campbell, as the thought suddenly occurred to him. “He’s the only other person alive who could have. By reading whatever information he needed from you or someone else.”

  “I can’t believe that,” said Girdler. “He would never sell us out. No matter what.”

  “Even if Megan’s life was on the line?”

  Girdler opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

  Campbell considered. What would Nick do if he had to choose between helping these hostiles capture Alex, or watching Megan be tortured and killed? How would he make the most soul-destroying ethical choice any man could make? It could have been Nick. Under duress.

  “This doesn’t make sense, either,” said Girdler. “Think about it. If Nick were behind this, he wouldn’t need an assault team. He’s Alex’s trusted friend. He could have said he escaped and asked Alex to meet him somewhere private. Drawn him out. Why leave him in his fort and make it so complicated?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Except everything is going to shit. Unraveling. And we’re being outplayed. Badly.” The colonel paused. “When Alex regains consciousness and can contact us, we’ll learn more. But I’m afraid at this point, nothing’s going to stop a team from coming to arrest you sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s okay,” said Girdler with a forced smile. “They’ll have to try me before they hang me. So we have some time. But I need you to come out here as soon as you can. I want you to take the lead on the investigation when you arrive.”

  “I’ll scramble a jet and be there tonight.”

  “Thanks, Mike. And when we get off the phone, I have an unpleasant assignment I’d like you to take.”

  “What?”

  “Call Heather and deliver the news. I was going to, but under the circumstances, as the only suspect, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  Campbell nodded. “I’ll call her right away.”

  “And meet up with her immediately when you land. She’ll need a strong shoulder to lean on. And you’ll want to talk to her and inspect the grounds as part of the investigation anyway.”

  “Will she be secure at home, or should we move her to a safe house?”

  “She’ll be fine. I’ll have Drew Russell reset the security system, looking for bugs left behind, worms, and so on, and change out passwords. Won’t take a guy like him long. As long as he blesses it, she should be safe. But you should stay with her in a guest room, just to give her added comfort.”

  “Roger that,” said Campbell. He gave his friend a reassuring nod. “And, Justin, hang in there.”

  “I will. But watch your back, Mike. These guys seem supernatural. They’ve kidnapped three of our cabal. And by kidnapping Alex the way they have, they’re a day away from seeing to it that I’m rendered impotent, as well, when the military takes me into custody.”

  “I’ll be careful,” said Campbell. “But they’ve disrupted the four members of our group who are most important. I’m not sure anyone will think Heather and I are worth the effort.”

  “I hope you’re right. But assume you’re not. At the risk of depressing the shit out of you, this may only be the beginning.”

  “Even so,” said Campbell, “we’ll figure this out. And you’ve done too much for this country for me to just stand by while you’re being railroaded. I promise you, Justin, I’m not going to let this stand.”

  32

  Alex Altschuler forced his eyes open as the events at his home came rushing back to him, and the full horror of his situation.

  But at least he was still alive, he thought, fighting back panic. Or at least he thought he was. He was seated in a steel chair that had been affixed to the floor, his hands and feet strapped flush to the chair by sturdy plastic strips, ratcheted to the proper tightness and then locked there.

  A little less inviting than he had imagined Heaven to be, and a little more air-conditioned than Hell. So he decided to stick with his initial, alive, verdict.

  He took a deep breath and noted that his lungs didn’t seem to feel any after-effects from the gas that had been used in the attack.

  The assault team must have been able to hack the security at his home. It was the only way they could have altered the camera feed the way they had, and
entered the way they had. It was the only explanation for his PDA not responding to his command to open the panic room door. Someone had managed to change the password.

  But he wouldn’t have thought this possible, even for someone with his skills.

  He was in a small room with a bed, dresser, lamps, and even art on the wall, looking for all the world like a lovingly assembled room for favored relatives or guests rather than a prison. But given his state of immobility, it was a prison nonetheless.

  And he was still unable to access the Web, he realized suddenly. The implants and their capabilities had become an integral part of his thought processes, even more so than they were for Nick Hall. The severing of his connection to the Internet was a lobotomy, its absence crippling.

  But why was it still gone? The attack was over. There was absolutely no reason for those behind the attack to take this precaution. He was immobilized and had no phone or other electronic devices.

  So the continued presence of a dampening field could only mean one thing: they knew he was equipped with BrainWeb implants.

  And this could not be. Because only five people in the world knew this to be true.

  ***

  Victor had just returned from a trip when Eduardo Alvarez entered his office eagerly.

  “Congratulations, my friend,” said Victor warmly in Spanish, embracing his subordinate. “I understand the third string came through.”

  “Yes. With flying colors. The intel we got was perfect. I’ll be damned. Part of me still thinks there is something we’re missing. Some trap.”

  “Caution is never a bad thing,” noted Victor. He had gotten to where he was by being smart, fair, and cautious, after all. Alvarez’s instincts were good. Victor felt just as uneasy as he did, despite the brilliant success of phase one. “Speaking of which, I assume you’re certain you weren’t followed.”

 

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