“Let’s get back to Putnam’s security,” said Desh. “Are you telling us that we can just waltz in there undetected for the next twenty-four hours?”
“Almost,” said Griffin. He worked the mouse and different views of Putnam’s property came into view, one of which showed a tiny human figure. He zoomed in closer and a man came into focus wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a cowboy hat. He was putting out hay for the horses. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, which meant the footage Griffin had tapped into was probably several months out of date.
“Security information from the monitors and alarms is fed to two men,” said Griffin as he zoomed in tight on the man’s waist, revealing an automatic weapon and walkie-talkie. “He’s one of them.”
“Interesting,” said Metzger. “This guy’s cowboyed up so most people will take him as a farmhand.”
“He doubles as a farmhand from the look of it,” commented Connelly.
“You said two men,” said Desh. “Where is the other one?”
“The security computer logs indicate that one of the men is almost always in the barn, manning the monitors.”
“Won’t the guard in the barn realize something is wrong when his colleague fails to show up on the monitors?” asked Desh.
Griffin grinned broadly. “When Kira makes you smart, she makes you prodigiously smart,” he said happily. “I took this into account. I only altered the outer cameras, focusing on the chain-link fence and the grounds beyond the outer barn. He’ll be able to see his friend, all right,” he said happily. “But not anyone sneaking up on him from the outer perimeter.”
Desh nodded approvingly. “Anything else we should know?” he asked.
Griffin considered. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “An alarm would normally go off if the house was breached in any way, but my modifications won’t allow this to happen.” He eyed Desh. “Unfortunately, I can’t program these two guys to ignore you,” he said.
Desh didn’t appear concerned about this in the least. “You’ve done great, Matt,” he said warmly. “With no alarms or video of our approach, they shouldn’t be much trouble.”
“So what’s the plan?” asked the major.
All eyes turned to Desh. Even though he was no longer in the military—and even if he was both Connelly and Metzger would have outranked him—everyone knew this was his show.
“I don’t think confronting Putnam right now buys us much,” began Desh. “Capture, followed by torture, might be an option at some point, but I wouldn’t suggest it as a first move.” He paused. “Comments? Disagreements?”
There was silence for several long moments, but no one objected.
“When do you think capturing Putnam would be the right move?” asked Connelly.
“When we’ve tried all other avenues,” said Desh. “As a last resort. And just after he’s reset Kira’s implant.” He paused. “Putnam’s probably been conditioned to withstand truth drugs. But given twelve hours we might be able to persuade him, in ways he wouldn’t find pleasant, to stop his viral attack and give us the code to disarm the device in Kira’s head.”
“But then again, we might not,” noted Metzger.
“Right,” said Desh. “That’s why we should try other approaches first.”
“I assume we start with his house,” said Metzger.
Desh nodded. “It’d be a shame not to after super-Matt here went to all the trouble to make it easy for us. I propose we wait for Putnam to leave for work and then break in. That will probably give us a good eight hours to search his house, and for Matt to have quality time with his computer. The goals will be twofold: one, learn anything we can about Putnam’s connection to terrorists and how to stop his plan from succeeding. Two, try to find out anything we can about the device in Kira’s skull and how to disarm it.”
Desh surveyed the group, looking each member of the team firmly in the eye. Each nodded in turn.
“Sounds like a plan,” said Kira supportively.
Desh looked at his watch. He was exhausted, as they all were, but they wouldn’t have the luxury of rest for a long time yet. A stanza from a favorite Robert Frost poem drifted across his consciousness:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Desh sighed and turned toward Griffin. Time to figure out just how many additional miles were in their immediate futures. “Matt, can you pull up directions to Severn and get a distance.”
Griffin’s fingers flew over the keyboard and fifteen seconds later a map was on the monitor with the driving path outlined by a bold line. “Seventy-five miles,” he announced.
Desh locked his eyes onto Kira. “Kira, we need to get moving. Can you disconnect us from the trailer park cable and gas lines, and do whatever else needs to be done for us to hit the road.”
Kira nodded. “We’ll be ready to roll in five minutes,” she said.
44
It was already a quarter to eight before Kira’s forty-foot behemoth pulled off onto an old dirt road a few hundred yards from the outer perimeter of Putnam’s property. Desh and Metzger jumped out of the vehicle immediately and fanned out in opposite directions, each carrying a pair of green binoculars, rubberized for shock resistance. During the trip each had donned assault vests and were armed to the teeth. The entire team now wore walkie-talkie earpieces with wires that disappeared beneath their shirts. Kira, who had taught herself how to handle a weapon, was armed with a familiar Glock 9-millimeter pistol while Griffin, given his complete lack of experience, remained unarmed.
Desh and Metzger had only been in place for a few minutes when a large black Cadillac pulled onto the road nearest to Putnam’s spread. The car’s windows weren’t tinted, probably once again to prevent any raised eyebrows in the neighborhood, but Desh knew a heavily armored car when he saw one and this one was armored to the gills—more tank than car.
Desh carefully turned a dial on the binoculars and focused in on the driver. Bingo! It was Sam. Samuel Frank Putnam in the flesh. They had been lucky. If they had arrived even five minutes later they would have missed his departure.
Within minutes the car was out of sight, heading in the opposite direction from where they were stationed, toward Fort Meade. Desh signaled to Metzger and they both returned to Kira’s motor home.
“Showtime,” announced Desh to the group. He handed Metzger and Griffin a gellcap from the stainless steel bottle Kira had given him. “Put these in your pockets,” he instructed. “Use them only in an absolute emergency.” He held the pill bottle out to Kira. “Kira?” he said.
She shook her head. “No thanks,” she said with a sigh. “Just kicked the habit.”
Desh and Metzger strapped rucksacks on their backs that had been stuffed full of gear during the drive to Putnam’s farm.
The colonel had gotten another hour of concentrated sleep while they drove, but was now fully awake. Desh had insisted that he stay behind to man the RV and to guard their flank.
Desh turned to the major, who was waiting for him. “Go with Matt and Kira and take up a concealed position just outside the chain-link fence,” he instructed. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Metzger looked puzzled but didn’t question Desh’s order. He took a last glance at Desh and Connelly and exited the vehicle with the two civilians in tow. They arrived at the outer perimeter of the property and waited behind a group of trees for Desh to join them. Five minutes later he arrived.
“What was that all about?” Kira whispered to Desh.
“I needed to be sure the colonel was all right,” he whispered back, “and to bury the pill canister away from the RV. Just in case.”
Desh pulled a pair of wire cutters from one of many pockets in his vest. After a few minutes of snipping links he carefully removed a three-foot square section of the fence, hoping that the transformed Matt Griffin was as good as he thought and the vibration alarm really had been rendered
impotent.
They each scurried through the hole in the fence and advanced, crouching low to the ground until they came to another grouping of trees, which the entire team knelt behind. Desh removed his rucksack and propped it behind one of the trees, along with his submachine gun. Metzger held his MP-5 at the ready to protect Kira and Griffin while Desh peered around a tree with binoculars.
He scanned the area for several minutes. Finally, turning back to the others he mouthed, “Back in five minutes,” and then, pulling a tranquilizer gun from his vest, he stole away without a sound. The team had agreed they would only use lethal force on Putnam’s security people as a last resort. While this was being decided, Desh had an odd feeling that he was forgetting something important about the events at the safe house, but try as he might he couldn’t put his finger on what this might be.
Desh had waited until the roving security guard had moved well out of sight of his planned approach to the outer barn. The guard was still dressed as a farmhand, although his clothing was considerably warmer than it had been in the satellite photos. He and his colleague were probably quite competent, but they were overmatched by someone with Desh’s training and field experience, and lulled into a false sense of security by their faith in the perimeter alarms.
Desh crept to the side of the outermost barn and peered inside. The second guard was seated with his back to him, at a large bank of twelve monitors, twenty yards away. Desh glided forward noiselessly with his gun extended, rapidly closing the distance between them. He was able to get to within five feet of the man before he began to spin around, startled. Desh shot him in the thigh and he slumped in his chair, unconscious.
Desh studied the monitors to confirm the other security guard hadn’t moved from his position near the large horse pen, and plotted his approach. He exited the barn and circled around the property so he could come up behind the second guard. Once he had a bead on the man, he stalked him for several minutes, gradually working his way closer. He silently covered the last few feet and fired. This time the guard hadn’t had any warning at all and melted to the ground as the tranquilizer took immediate effect.
Desh pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the area. Everything looked to be in order. He double-timed it to where Metzger could see him and signaled for the rest of the group to join him. Minutes later they were at the back of the house. Desh chose a suitable window and shattered it with the back of his submachine gun, using the weapon to quickly clear away the jagged glass remaining around the perimeter of the sill. All four intruders climbed through the window one at a time until they were all safely inside the residence.
45
Putnam’s house was large, about 5,000 square feet. The front door opened into a living room on the left and a glass enclosed study on the right. The kitchen was spacious, with large stainless steel appliances, blue granite countertops, and a large cooking island in its center. The interior of the house was in direct contrast to its simple, rustic exterior, and managed to clash atrociously even with itself. While all of the furniture was a minimalist, ultra-modern steel, glass, and silver, the rest of the interior was reminiscent of a European palace, with crystal chandeliers and baroque oil paintings displayed in elaborate, carved wooden frames.
It was 8:30 and they still hadn’t heard the three telltale tones that would tell them that Putnam had reset the device that threatened Kira Miller, providing a twelve-hour stay of execution. No one had brought it up, but it was weighing on all of their minds.
Griffin sat at the computer in Putnam’s study and called up several screens. The rest of the team stood behind him, eagerly looking over his shoulder. “This might take a while,” he said after a few minutes. “I have to break through security and then try to find a needle in a haystack. That’s presupposing Putnam left any evidence on this computer in the first place.” He sighed. “And I’ll be trying this the old fashioned way. As much as I’d like to become a hotrodding God of a hacker again, I’m not sure I’m up to it yet. It takes a lot out of you.”
“No question about it,” said Desh.
“If I haven’t made solid progress by one or two this afternoon,” said Griffin earnestly, “I’ll take another gellcap and go to town.”
Desh nodded but wasn’t certain he liked the idea. The antisocial effect was cumulative and Griffin hadn’t handled his altered state well the first time.
Griffin bent to work on the keyboard while the three armed members of the team conducted a systematic search of Putnam’s home, looking for any clues or information that might prove useful. After forty minutes of searching, Desh activated the small microphone dangling from a cord running down his neck and checked in with Connelly in the RV. The colonel reported that all was well, and that he had not observed any suspicious activity in the vicinity.
Desh was searching through an upstairs room when Metzger’s voice came through his earpiece. “David, meet me in the basement. Something I want to show you.”
“Roger that,” he said.
Desh moved briskly and arrived at the basement just ahead of Kira, who Metzger had also summoned. The room was nicely finished, including the ceiling and walls, and was carpeted. Metzger was standing next to a door in the far corner of the basement. He motioned for Desh and Kira to join him as he opened the door and stepped through.
They entered a small, unfinished section of the basement with its original concrete floor and walls. There was a sump hole in one corner and a water heater in another.
A large, square piece of plywood was standing up against the wall, about eight feet on a side. Metzger went to an edge and pushed. The plywood slid fairly readily across the smooth floor.
Desh’s eyes widened as a square opening in the concrete wall was revealed, hidden behind the plywood. It was about six feet on a side and formed the entrance to a tunnel leading away from the house.
Metzger pulled a small flashlight from his vest and pointed it down the passageway. The tunnel continued for about thirty yards and then curved out of sight.
“Interesting,” said Desh. “Were you searching specifically for an escape hatch?” he asked the major.
Metzger nodded. “Blackmail too many powerful men and you create a few enemies. Even if Putnam convinced them the dirt he had collected would be released automatically if he was killed, he would still want to have a means to escape a frontal assault—just in case.”
“Not all that well hidden,” noted Kira.
“Doesn’t need to be on this side,” said Metzger. “Putnam would count on his security monitors giving him a head start. I’m sure the tunnel exit is well concealed. Once Putnam emerges, he can probably collapse the tunnel behind him to prevent anyone from following.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Desh. “Even though Putnam is convinced of the strength of his signal and receiver, I want Kira aboveground,” he said protectively. “Why take any chances we don’t have to? We can search this tunnel later.” He paused. “Nice work, Major.”
Desh caught Kira glancing nervously at her watch as they climbed the stairs. “I’m guessing you would have told me if you had heard three high-pitched beeps recently,” he said softly.
Kira sighed. “He’ll reset it,” she said, although with less confidence than before.
When the three of them emerged from the basement, Griffin saw them through the glass wall of the study and motioned them over.
“I haven’t found anything linking Putnam to terror or the sterilization virus,” he said when they had joined him, “but I did find files on a number of powerful people in politics and the military.”
“Compromising ones?” guessed Kira.
“Very,” he replied. “Hoover would be proud. Putnam has a number of taped phone calls implicating the callers for taking bribes, cheating on spouses, engaging in criminal activity—the works.” He paused and shook his head. “He also has a lot of these.” A video of a chubby, balding older man having sex with a buxom young beauty appeared on the screen. None of them reco
gnized the man. “According to the file,” explained Griffin, “Baldy is the CEO of a major corporation. Putnam has videos of a number of powerful men engaged in either homosexual activity or having sex with women who aren’t their wives. But I’ll spare you any more samples,” he said.
“Thank you,” said Desh in sincere appreciation.
“Not exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be shown to your wife or children,” noted Metzger unnecessarily.
“Or your constituency,” added Desh.
A digital clock appeared at the bottom of Putnam’s computer monitor. It read 9:45. Desh eyed Kira worriedly. She was trying to keep a stiff upper lip but he could read the tension in her face.
There was a knock at the front door!
Desh grabbed Kira’s arm and rushed from the room, taking up a position on the wall flanking the front door. Metzger hurried Griffin with him into position on the other side. Both men trained their weapons at the door.
There was another knock and then the rattle of keys. Finally, the door swung slowly open.
“Hello in there,” yelled S. Frank Putnam from the entrance. “I’m alone and unarmed. I’m coming in,” he announced.
Putnam calmly entered and closed the door behind him. Once the door had closed, Desh rushed to the window and peered out. He raised his binoculars and scanned the vicinity, but didn’t see any evidence of anyone else approaching.
“Congratulations on escaping from the safe house and discovering my identity,” said Putnam sincerely. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me how you did it,” he added.
“What are you doing here?” growled Kira disdainfully.
“Making sure you don’t violate my property any further, my dear. My men will be arriving here in about ten minutes,” he said, “but I thought I’d say hello and give you a chance to surrender first.”
“Why?” asked Desh suspiciously.
“I don’t want to risk any injury to Dr. Miller, of course.”
“Other than your implanted bomb that’s set to go off in twelve minutes, you mean,” said Desh.
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