“Integrity?” asked Desh.
Connelly nodded. “We took out a Columbian drug lord once. Just the two of us. The guy had a silk drawstring bag in his safe filled with diamonds the size of marbles.” He raised his eyebrows. “Ninety-nine guys out of a hundred would have at least raised the philosophical question: who would know if some went missing? But Metzger pulled the bag from the safe, looked inside, and tossed it to me. Never mentioned it again.” Connelly locked his eyes firmly on Desh. “He’s one of us, David. He prides himself on doing what’s right.”
Desh nodded. “Thanks Colonel. Good enough for me. I assumed as much, but I had to ask.” He slid his headset back over his ears and Connelly did the same. The two men carried the heavy canvas bags to the front end of the helicopter.
When they were within twenty miles of Hagerstown, Desh passed out night vision goggles and Metzger killed the helicopter’s lights. They were now invisible from the ground. Piloting a helicopter blind using night-vision equipment wasn’t for the faint of heart, but Metzger had considerable experience doing so. Five minutes later they were over Hagerstown and Kira directed Metzger to the stadium. He circled it quickly and landed as close to the bleachers as he could, well behind home plate.
As expected, the gate entrance had a heavy chain around it and was padlocked. Desh pulled a pair of bolt-cutters from one of the canvas bags, and they were soon on their way.
They came upon some parked cars about three blocks from the stadium, and Desh expertly broke into one and hotwired it. They returned the night vision equipment to one of the canvas bags, threw both bags in the trunk, and climbed into the car. Kira drove, Connelly took the passenger seat to protect his injury, and Griffin, Desh and Metzger crammed themselves into the back.
Kira pulled away from the curb. “Next stop, my place,” she announced. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
PART SIX
Moriarty
40
They parked at the outskirts of Kira’s trailer park and made their way silently to her class A motor home. It was nearing three in the morning, and the other residents of the park were sound asleep and didn’t stir at their arrival. Kira had taken care to select a park at which there was ample spacing between RVs.
Kira’s RV was forty feet long and eight wide. The drapes were already closed and she kept the lighting low. Despite the limited space, Kira had decorated the dwelling tastefully with several well-placed knickknacks and plants that gave it a homey and unmistakably feminine feel. The RV was packed with cherry cabinetry and had a self-contained bathroom, kitchen, dining area, living room, and bedroom. Desh had never been inside an RV of any kind and marveled at how much could be fit inside, and how cleverly. The kitchen had an oven, a three-burner stove, and a microwave, along with a large stainless steel refrigerator-freezer. There were two tan leather couches along either wall, facing each other, with about four feet of space between them. A high-end computer rested underneath the small kitchen table with a full-sized keyboard and three monitors on its surface. Desh couldn’t imagine wanting or needing more than a single monitor, but after the last few days he was beginning to think this was a minority opinion.
Kira gestured for Connelly to take one of the two couches and for Griffin and Metzger to take the other. The driver and passenger seats were cushioned, soft-leather captain’s chairs, capable of being swiveled around 180 degrees to become additional living room furniture; a configuration Kira used whenever the vehicle was parked. She sat in one and motioned for Desh to take the other. The only hint that the group was gathered inside a mammoth vehicle rather than a tiny house was the presence of a large steering wheel protruding into the living room.
“We need to brief you and we need to do it quickly,” began Desh as soon as he was seated. “There’s a lot to tell, so let’s get right to it.”
For over an hour, Desh and Kira reviewed everything they knew: intelligence enhancement, Kira’s longevity therapy, her self-imposed memory blockade, the murder of her brother, the Ebola frame, and finally, their recent interaction with the ruthless man they had called Moriarty. They did their best to impart the information succinctly, but understood the importance of being thorough. The team had to know the entire truth; no matter how much valuable time was consumed in the process. Desh observed the major carefully throughout the briefing, finding him to be intelligent, inquisitive, and a positive addition to the team.
It was Desh’s passionate description of the awesome power of an enhanced intellect that persuaded the three men to believe the rest, as utterly fantastic as it all was. If the level of intelligence that could be attained was truly as phenomenal as Desh described, they readily agreed that age retardation could be achieved after a number of sessions in this altered state, and that a hyper-infective virus targeting egg cells could be perfected as well.
Thirty minutes into their briefing, Kira had brewed up a pot of coffee and provided a cup to each member of the team, who were unanimous in expressing their gratitude for the caffeine.
Finally, at just after four in the morning, the briefing was complete.
Metzger leaned forward on the couch, so he could see around the now clean-shaven giant seated beside him, and glanced worriedly at the bandage-covered bald spot on the side of Kira’s skull. “I hate to bring this up,” he said, “but the explosive is set to go off in only six hours.”
Kira nodded, but remained silent.
“Is something like this really possible?” asked Griffin, directing his question to Connelly who was across from him in the compact living room.
The colonel sighed. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “C-4 is the explosive everyone knows about, but the military has developed plastic explosives even more potent than this. Shape the charge correctly and it wouldn’t take much. Easy to booby-trap a device so it can’t be removed.”
“Jesus,” said Griffin in revulsion. “I am so sorry, Kira,” he added gently. “This Sam is truly a monster.”
Kira attempted a half-hearted smile. “I appreciate the concern, Matt, but I’ll be okay. Remember, he didn’t implant the device to kill me. He did so as an insurance policy: to make sure I don’t kill him. If he dies, I die. In the meanwhile, he’ll continue to reset it. He needs me alive to get his hands on the fountain of youth. He’ll expect me to try to stop him for a few days, get nowhere, and then let myself be recaptured: giving him my secret rather than letting him carry out his plan.”
Griffin nodded, but the frown didn’t leave his face.
Metzger pursed his lips in concentration. “Kira,” he said, “you told him you couldn’t give him the secret to your longevity therapy, or the location of the flash drive, even if you desperately wanted to. Is that true, or partially a bluff?”
“Unfortunately, it’s absolutely true,” replied Kira with a troubled look on her face. “He knows firsthand that with the extraordinary capabilities enhancement gives you, manipulating memory in this way is possible. Despite this, he thinks with proper motivation I’ll find a way. But he’s wrong about that.”
“That’s unfortunate,” said the major. “It means that negotiating a stop to the threat isn’t even an option.” He frowned. “What if his plan succeeds? Is he right? Would you then publically disclose your longevity treatment?”
Kira sighed. “I would,” she replied. “The bastard is right. At that point there would be no reason not to. Humanity’s only hope would be to achieve true immortality, or figure out how to coax the production of new egg cells. Enhanced molecular biologists might eventually discover a way to do this, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
Metzger frowned deeply. “If we want to have any chance of stopping this threat,” he said, “I’d suggest that our first order of business is learning who this Sam really is.”
“Agreed,” said Desh.
“Do we have anything to go on?” asked Griffin.
Desh raised his eyebrows. “Actually, yes,” he said confidently. “I think we do.”
41
/> All eyes were instantly upon David Desh, including Kira’s. He hadn’t yet shared his theory even with her.
“First, it’s almost certain Sam is in the government,” began Desh. “We know he has considerable legitimate authority. Not to mention access to next generation military helicopters and to safe houses. Second, he kept boasting of the men he had in his pocket, be they molecular biologists or military muscle. He apparently has dirt on a large and diverse cast of characters.” Desh leaned forward intently. “So how would someone be able to get that much dirt on that many people?” He turned his gaze to Connelly and raised his eyebrows. “Remind you of anybody, Colonel?”
Connelly thought for a moment and his eyes widened as he realized where Desh was headed. “J. Edgar Hoover,” he whispered.
“J. Edgar Hoover,” repeated Desh, nodding. “Head of the FBI for forty-nine years under eight different presidents. Rumored to have used the power of the FBI to wiretap and spy on citizens of personal interest to him. Kept secret files on his enemies containing compromising or embarrassing information. Nobody could be sure what he had on them. Rumor has it that several presidents called him in, intent on firing him, but he left unscathed each time.”
“Many believe he was the most powerful man in the history of the US, including presidents,” pointed out Connelly.
“Exactly,” said Desh excitedly. “I think Sam is taking a page out of Hoover’s playbook, trying for the same results. And my guess is he’s well on his way. He claims to be blackmailing numerous men. He has also demonstrated considerable power to move men and equipment like so many chess pieces, not to mention arranging to have the colonel provide me with Smith’s telephone number as my contact. Since Hoover’s time, Congress has added more stringent safeguards against domestic surveillance, of course—” He raised his eyebrows doubtfully.
“But this wouldn’t hinder him in the least,” said Kira, completing Desh’s sentence. “Enhanced, he can circumvent any safeguards. And the word ruthless is completely inadequate to describe him. Here’s a man who was a psychopath before he was enhanced. A man who bragged about burning my brother alive.”
Desh nodded gravely.
“So you think Sam’s with the FBI?” asked Metzger.
Desh shook his head. “No. The FBI isn’t the best agency to carry out this strategy any longer. A modern day Hoover would choose differently.”
Griffin’s eyes widened. “The NSA,” he whispered.
“Exactly.”
“We better hope you’re wrong,” said Griffin anxiously, “because if you’re not, then this just became even a bigger nightmare. The NSA makes Big Brother look like the ACLU. They’re the largest intelligence gathering organization in the world, which also makes them the most powerful agency in the world. They’re in charge of cryptology for the US, which puts them in charge of signal’s intelligence: radio, microwave, fiber-optic, cell phones, satellites—everything.”
“Your certainly know your NSA, Matt,” said Desh, standing and pouring himself another cup of coffee. “They’ve been involved in this from the beginning,” he continued. “In some capacity.” He shifted his eyes to Kira. “Someone had to order satellites to track you, Kira. But that didn’t necessarily mean our Moriarty—or Sam if you will—worked there. Given everyone was convinced you were behind the Ebola threat, the NSA would have been called in regardless.”
“But if he did work there, that would explain a lot,” said Metzger. “The NSA sends daily intelligence reports to numerous agencies—and even to the White House on occasion. If this Sam was operating from within the NSA he could readily spread false intelligence. He could spread misinformation about Kira that would be accepted as fact. And he put together a tight frame of the colonel in record time. I’ve known Jim Connelly forever, and I know that nothing could ever get him to betray his country. Yet the evidence they put together against him almost had me convinced.”
“The more you think about it,” said Desh, “the more sense it makes. The NSA would be the ideal place for Sam to reinvent Hoover’s strategy, using capabilities that Hoover could only dream of. The combination of being able to doctor intelligence reports and eavesdrop on whoever he wanted to at the highest levels of government—and blackmail them—would make him the ultimate puppet master.”
“He’d be high up in the organization,” said Kira. “But not the Director. Not enough anonymity that way.”
Metzger pursed his lips. “It feels right,” he said, his bushy eyebrows almost touching as he wrinkled his forehead in thought. “But how much does this help us? Even if we knew this were true, could we find him?”
“David and I know what he looks like now,” said Kira.
“Yeah, but they don’t just advertise employees of the NSA in an online directory with pictures and addresses,” said Connelly.
“How many employees do they have?” asked Kira.
Griffin smiled. “It’s classified,” he said. “So is their budget. Their headquarters is at Fort Meade, Maryland, just outside D.C. I read online that someone counted 18,000 parking spaces there. The Post published an article a few years back estimating the total number at all their facilities around the world at close to 40,000. Their security is legendary,” he added grimly.
“How do you happen to know so much about them, Matt?” asked Connelly curiously.
“Are you kidding,” replied Griffin, grinning. “The NSA is to conspiracy theorists and hackers what Area 51 is to UFO freaks. Massive, powerful, shadowy. Not to mention that they have a supercomputer center with the largest accumulation of computer power ever housed on Earth.”
Desh smiled mischievously. “Ever hack into it?”
“Absolutely not!” said Griffin, looking shocked. “It’s the third rail of the hacking world. First, they have the best security on the planet. Impenetrable as far as I know. Second, if you did make it in, they would find out, and they’d come after you—with a vengeance.”
Desh looked amused. “If it makes you feel any better, they’re already coming after you with a vengeance,” he pointed out. “Surely simple employee records and photographs don’t warrant the NSA’s maximum protection.”
“Maybe not,” allowed Griffin. “But even their minimum protection is pretty unbeatable.”
“You’re the only chance we have,” said Kira gently. “Can you do it?”
Griffin sighed. “Maybe, given three or four days, I could get employee records. Maybe. But we don’t have time for that.” He shook his head helplessly. “Kira is as good a hacker as I am, so together we might be able to do it faster.” He frowned. “But still not fast enough to stop this Sam character from unleashing his engineered virus.”
Kira shook her head. “I’m only as good as you when my intelligence has been enhanced. Otherwise, you’re orders of magnitude more accomplished than I am.”
“What about enhancing Matt, then?” suggested the colonel. “If this mental transformation is all it’s cracked up to be, with his vast base of knowledge, he should be able to beat even the NSA.” Connelly pulled a pain-relief capsule from his pocket, placed it on his tongue, and washed it down with some now lukewarm coffee.
Desh sighed. “I have no doubt that he could.” He eyed Kira warily. “But I don’t know if we want to take that chance right now.”
“You’re that worried about the side effects of this pill?” said Connelly.
“I’ve compared notes with Kira,” replied Desh, “and the sociopathy effect hit me harder and faster than it hit her.”
Metzger stroked his chin once again. He turned to Kira. “Do you think it hit David harder because there was testosterone added to the mix?” he asked.
Kira considered. “An interesting hypothesis,” she said. “But I don’t know.”
“It’s possible Matt won’t display any antisocial tendencies the first time,” said Desh. “Kira tells me her therapy didn’t affect her that way to any major degree until she had been transformed a number of times.” He frowned. “But we can’
t rule out the possibility the effect will hit him even harder than it did me. That would be dangerous for everyone.”
“How hard did it really hit you?” asked Metzger. “It didn’t sound to me as though you had turned into a total monster.”
“Not a total one, no,” said Desh. “But reflecting now on some of the thoughts I had in this state scares me. I still had some loyalty to Kira and humanity—which is why I helped her escape. But the effect on me was to the right of Kira. What if the effect on Matt is to the right of me?” There was no mistaking the worried look on his face. “Eventually, all of you need to experience the effect, but under far more secure and controlled conditions.”
Kira sighed. “You know that I agree with you, David,” she said. “But there’s too much at stake not to risk this. And it would only be his first time.” She paused and then smiled sheepishly. “While we’re having this discussion, we should probably ask Matt if he’s even willing to do this,” she added.
All eyes turned toward Griffin.
“Well?” said Kira.
Griffin nodded. Then, smiling, he turned to Desh and winked. “I guess this is my chance to become even more prodigious,” he said wryly.
The smile vanished from Griffin’s face as he realized that Desh’s dour expression hadn’t changed. “I understand your concerns, David,” he said. “If it will make you feel any better, you can tie my legs together.”
“Oh, I plan on doing far more than that,” said Desh.
“Okay,” said Griffin, slightly taken aback. “That’s fine. But even if I turned into the devil, what do you think an overweight, out of shape computer expert could do against three highly trained members of the US military?”
A troubled look came over Desh’s face. “Far more than you might imagine,” he said worriedly.
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