He grabbed it and said, “Hello, Kevin. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Ashby is getting—”
Kevin interrupted him. “Uncle Tom, stop and listen to me!”
“Uh, sure, Kevin,” Alexander replied.
“As your tech adviser, I am advising you that it is time to upgrade your cell phone. I need you to go to the nearest Walmart and buy one of the Straight Talk models—and be sure and get the model that has no GPS chip in it. As soon as you’ve done that, give me a call back . . . but don’t take too long, okay?”
Alexander’s heart began to race. He could tell by Kevin’s tone that this was some sort of emergency. “Okay, Kev, I’ll go immediately.”
He hung up and called Jeannie back into his office. “Jeannie, I’ve just had an emergency call. Would you take care of these callbacks? Please refill any meds the patients need and tell the docs who called that I’m off for two weeks and to refer any patients they’re calling about to Dr. Madry?”
* * *
It took Alexander almost an hour and a half to get to a Walmart, buy a phone, and get it set up before he could return Kevin’s call.
He called him from the Walmart parking lot. “Okay, you have officially scared the bejesus out of me, Kevin. What the hell is going on?”
“First take out your regular phone and pull the battery,” Kevin said.
“You’re kidding.”
“Uncle Tom, do I sound like I’m kidding?”
“No, you sound as frightened as you are making me.”
“That’s because I am. Now, is the battery out of your smartphone?”
“Um . . . wait a minute . . . yes. But why—?”
“Because the FBI can turn anyone’s smartphone on and make it into a microphone to eavesdrop on you with.”
“The FBI? What have they got to do with me?”
“You mean ‘us,’ Uncle Tom.”
Kevin went on to tell Dr. Alexander about their discovery that the FBI was monitoring Ashby’s residence and phones, and how they knew about the detectives he’d hired and were following them trying to get to Kevin and his friends. “And,” he added, “if they’re monitoring Ashby this closely, it stands to reason that they may be targeting you also, so you need to always be aware that hostile ears may be listening when you speak.”
“FBI? Detectives? What the hell is going on, Kevin, and why the hell don’t I know about it already?”
“As for why you don’t know about it, maybe you should ask your good friend Ashby why he’s hiring detectives to shadow us without your knowledge—if it is without your knowledge, Uncle Tom.”
“Kevin, I swear to you that I knew nothing about this, and I will speak to Ashby about the detectives, but tell me more about the FBI and just what their involvement in this is all about.”
“We found out there is a special agent in charge, or SAIC, named Fowler who has bugged the detectives’ car that Ashby had following us, and he personally was following them to try to get to us. We think he has gone rogue and is acting as a lone wolf to try to get our formula or the money Ashby is going to pay us for it, or both.”
“But how did they get involved in the first place?”
“Again, our theory is that they have been surveilling Ashby about something else and perhaps overheard him and you talking about our deal. Hell, they might even have video surveillance and could have seen the video of Angus and our subject that we sent to you. At any rate, Fowler knows more than he should and has been dogging the detectives to try to locate us.”
“Are you safe from him now?”
“Yes, we have taken the precaution of going off of the grid to escape both Ashby and the FBI. Uncle Tom, you can understand that now there is no trust between us and Ashby, so the transfer of the money is going to have to precede the transfer of the formula. In addition, we will transfer the formula in such a way that we remain off the grid and safe from Ashby’s henchmen, or the deal is off.”
“I don’t know if he will go for that, Kevin. He is a very paranoid man.”
“Fine, then we’ll just sell the formula to someone else, repay him his hundred thousand, and let him die in his bed. The choice is up to him, Uncle.”
“Jesus, Kevin! I had no idea you were this hard-nosed.”
“Got to be hard-nosed when you’ve been betrayed, Uncle Tom, and make no mistake—we consider Ashby’s hiring of these detectives to follow us a betrayal of our trust.”
Alexander sighed. “Yeah, I can see why you would believe that. Okay, let me get to him and tell him you’re pissed about the detectives and how the FBI is listening in. I’ll see what he wants to do about that and then we’ll see about the formula.”
“Oh, Uncle Tom, whatever you do, don’t let him take down the bugs and surveillance devices. The FBI must not be allowed to find out we know about them, or we will lose our advantage over them. Instead, you and Ashby can make the FBI believe anything you want to and they’ll never be the wiser.”
“Got it, Kev. Good idea, and just to let you know, I’m taking the next couple of weeks off. I am going to go directly to the airport and fly up to Houston to talk to Ashby tonight.”
“And, Uncle, if you’re gonna partake of the formula, too, then you’d better be getting your new ID ready for your new life. I have a feeling we’ll be ready to send the formula in the next couple of days, and after that, it’s adios.”
* * *
After he hung up from his call to his uncle, Kevin got in his safe car and made a run to the post office box he’d rented at a UPS facility under a fake name. He found a large manila envelope waiting for him with the banking website’s name in the upper left corner.
Back at the safe house, he gathered his friends around him while he opened the envelope. A thick sheaf of papers came out, along with five debit cards with numbers on them instead of names. As they read through the papers together, they found that the initial bank account was set up and ready to go. As soon as money was deposited into it, the money would be immediately transferred through a series of other banks in varying countries, until it was finally settled in five equal portions in banks in countries that had no banking relations with the United States.
Kevin explained, “I set it up this way so that once the money was delivered, each of us would have control of his or her own account, which you can access using the number on your debit card. That way, if you want you can set up your own passwords or even immediately move the money to another account that none of the rest of us knows about, for safety’s sake. Then, if eventually Ashby or the FBI or anyone else captures one of us, we won’t be able to point to where the others’ money is. I also recommend that we keep our new identities secret from one another, as much as possible. We can still keep in touch through our burner phones, and I’ve also set up with the anonymous banking website a way for messages to be forwarded to anonymous e-mail accounts that we can check periodically to see whether we need to get back in touch.”
Dillard stepped up to the table the group was gathered around and shook his head. “Kevin, I cannot believe how good a job you’ve done with all of this. I do not know any seasoned professionals who could have set things up better than you have. I feel the group’s security is in excellent hands with you.”
He held his hand out and grinned when Kevin blushed a bright red as he shook it.
“Bravo, bravo,” Stone said, clapping lightly, laughing as the others all joined in.
When the clapping died down, Dillard said, “I also have some good news.” He pulled out a packet of five passports, along with driver’s licenses and credit cards.
“All of your IDs are ready with the names you gave me earlier for your future lives. I agree with Kevin that, generally speaking, you should share these new names with as few people as possible. Of course, I know all of the names, but I am going to provide each of you with the name and contact information of my source for the documents, so that if you desire to change your identities again at some time in the future, you will have
the information you need to do so. Everything will hold up to anything less than a full National Security Administration checkup. I also checked all of the national databases, and none of your fingerprints are on file, except for Kat’s. I am working on finding a hacker who can get into the armed services database and delete hers, but it’s taking a little more time than I thought it would.”
“But what about our pictures?” Burton asked. “You haven’t taken any new photos for the IDs.”
Dillard pulled out a chair. “That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you all about.”
He took a swig of the coffee he’d been holding in his hand, and then he said, “No matter how well I may change your IDs, you will never be safe without drastically changing your appearances. Both the National Security Administration and the Department of Homeland Security have excellent facial recognition software, not to mention Interpol. So, no matter how good a job I do on your identification documents, every time you go through an airport or any international border, you will be at risk.”
“But can’t we use wigs and makeup and other means to disguise ourselves?” Kevin asked.
Dillard shrugged. “Sure, that’ll help somewhat, but if someone with extensive resources, like the FBI or John Palmer Ashby, comes looking for you, it may not be enough.”
“So,” Burton asked, a disgusted look on his face, “just what do you recommend? Extensive plastic surgery for us all?”
Dillard laughed. “No, something a lot simpler and less painful. I think you should each take a dose of your own formula.”
Everyone looked around at the others, until Sheila said, “But . . .”
Dillard held out his hands. “But what, Dr. Goodman? Each of you is of at least middle age, you have access to the formula, and who among you wouldn’t love to be younger, healthier, and most importantly, more intelligent?”
As they all quieted down and looked thoughtful, Kevin spoke up. “But what about me, Jack? I’m only thirty years old. I don’t want to go back to being a kid again.”
He looked at Kat as he said this, and Dillard knew what he was thinking. The young man didn’t want to lose his potential to be with her.
Dillard looked over at Kat, and he could see the same expression on her face—she didn’t want to lose Kevin, either. “Kat, when you explained the way the formula worked to me, you said it would take someone back to their optimum age, depending on their state of health.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, that is what we surmised from the rat experiments.”
“So, just as an example, you and Kevin are both relatively healthy, and you are now only about ten or so years apart in age . . . right?”
She blushed, but nodded. “Yes, that is true.”
“Then, the way I figure it, if you both took the formula, you’d both end up at your optimum age, or somewhere in your late teens or early twenties, is that right?”
She frowned. “Well, theoretically that may be true, but we cannot know that for sure until we do more experiments. After all, we’ve only used the formula on two organisms: Angus and the professor.”
Upon hearing his name, Angus barked and stood on his hind legs, tail wagging furiously.
“Well, I’d suggest you start checking it out immediately, ’cause Kevin will never be safe unless he takes the formula and radically changes his appearance like the rest of you.”
“And if we all do this?” Burton asked.
“Then, when you’re recovered and stable, I’ll take new pictures of you and place them on your passports and other documents. You’ll be as safe as can be.”
Kat reached over and put her hand on Dillard’s. “What about you, Jackson? Want to be young again?”
He smiled gently and shook his head. “No, Kat, I don’t think so. At sixty years old, I’ve earned every gray hair on my head, and there is lots about my life I would not want to relive. Besides, all of my old friends, like your parents, are my age.” He shook his head again. “No, I think I’ll stay sixty and sexy for a while yet.”
Everyone laughed and stood up to pat him on the back.
“Also, I figure that you’ll need someone to look after you for the few days it takes for the Phoenix Formula to do its magic.”
After a moment, Kat held up her hands. “Okay, everyone, we’ve got a lot of work to do. We’ve got to get the ingredients to make at least six more doses of the Phoenix Formula, and we’ve got to go back to the drawing board to try to figure out how to dose Kevin so he won’t go back to wearing diapers.”
“Six doses?” Sheila asked.
“Yes,” Kat answered, “one for each of the four of us, one for Ashby, and one for Kevin’s uncle, Dr. Alexander.”
Kevin spoke up, “Kat, I think if we’re gonna make six more doses, we might as well make an even ten.”
“Ten? Why?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Well, we know we’re gonna need at least six, but having an extra four could be insurance against any unforeseen emergencies.”
“What kind of emergencies are you worried about, Kevin?” Dillard asked.
“I don’t know, Jackson, hence the word unforeseen. I just think it wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of extra doses lying around in case we need them.”
Dillard nodded. “I think you are right, Kevin. Extra never hurts, and who knows, it might just come in handy.” He grinned, “Like the Boy Scouts say, always be prepared.”
Kat laughed. “Okay, boys, we’ll make a few extra doses just in case.”
Sheila shook her head at the byplay, smiled, and reached over to take Burton’s hand. “How about it, dear? Do you feel like starting over . . . with me?”
He covered her hand with his. “Of course, darling, and maybe this time we’ll go to medical school together!”
Kat’s eyes brimmed with tears watching Sheila and Burton, until Kevin moved over next to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “How about you, Kat? Would you like me to be a part of your new life?”
She leaned back and looked up into his eyes. “Oh yes, Kevin, I most certainly would!”
CHAPTER 38
Nick Fowler finally finished searching Kevin’s apartment, which he’d gone to immediately after searching Sheila and Burton’s place. “Damn,” he muttered in frustration. He’d found absolutely no clues as to the current whereabouts of any of the scientists involved with John Palmer Ashby. Either they were very good, or they were very lucky. It was not often that amateurs like these could leave a room completely without any clues that a veteran FBI agent like Fowler could find.
Exhausted from the search, Fowler sat on Kevin’s threadbare couch and took some deep breaths. He had to get in shape, he told himself. That damn desk job had caused him to put on thirty or forty pounds since his glory days when he was a field agent. He laughed, thinking he’d been lean and mean in those days, instead of fat and sloppy like he was now.
When he finally got up, he happened to glance at his reflection in a wall mirror—his face was red and blotchy. Fuckin’ blood pressure probably sky-high, he thought.
He decided, what the hell, and he made himself a cup of Kevin’s coffee and sat at the small kitchen table.
Taking out his cell phone, he scrolled through the contacts list until he came to one labeled DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. He dialed the number and asked for Agent Sam Coburn.
When Sam came on the line, Fowler spent a few minutes catching up with his old friend from their early days in their agencies, and then he got to the point. “Sam, I need a huge favor.”
“Yeah, well, you know I’ll do anything I can to help you, Nick, as long as it doesn’t put my ass in a sling.”
“Nah, this is nothing like that,” Fowler replied. “I’m working a deep-cover case, and I need to know if any heavy hitters from out of town have been caught on your surveillance tapes entering Houston in the past couple of weeks.”
“You mean like terrorists or bomb throwers?”
“No, no. I mean ex-spooks or ex-agency types, maybe
working as a PI now or something on the fringes. This guy I’m tracking has some serious skills and he took out a couple of agents I had tailing some suspects like they were newbies.”
“You mean took out, as in killed?”
“No, but he neutralized them without doing any permanent damage, which as both of us know, is even harder than simply killing them.”
“So, you’re thinkin’ ex-CIA or ex-NSA, something like that?”
Fowler shrugged, even though Coburn couldn’t see him over the phone. “Probably, or maybe some sort of special forces, but all I really know is the guy is talented, and he knows how to go underground. My suspects have dropped off the face of the earth.”
“Okay, pal, I’ll dig around and see if anyone has popped up on our radar lately.”
“And, Sam, could you check with that friend of yours over at the NSA? I don’t have any current contacts there whom I can ask.”
“Sure, we share stuff like this all the time. I’ll get back to you within the hour. Take care, Nick.”
Fowler grunted his thanks and hung up. Before he took his last sip of coffee, he pulled out one of his blood pressure pills and swallowed it with the coffee.
Now it’s time to go and review the latest tapes from the Ashby home surveillance, he thought. Maybe he’d get some clue as to the scientists’ new location from them.
* * *
It was almost eight o’clock before Alexander arrived at Ashby’s house in the limousine the billionaire had sent to pick him up at the airport.
When he entered Ashby’s bedroom, Ashby didn’t waste any time. “Goddamnit, Tom, when the hell am I . . .”
Alexander held up his hand and shook his head slightly. “Now, John, calm yourself before you have another stroke.”
Ashby stopped, openmouthed; Alexander had never spoken to him in that tone before.
Alexander moved to his bedside and leaned over, his face close to Ashby’s ear as he pretended to fluff his pillow. “Keep your mouth shut—we’re being bugged,” he whispered.
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