by Peter Darley
“I can see that.”
“How did it go in Oregon?”
“We need to talk. It’s really—”
Crane cut him off and waved him over. “Come and watch this.”
Puzzled, B.J. made his way toward the desk. “What is it?”
Crane gestured to the screen. “This is your girlfriend’s network premiere. Heather’s first ever TV interview.”
B.J. quickened his pace. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. She’s just stepped right in at the deep end. She got Archer.”
“Oh, fu—boy.” B.J. positioned himself behind Jed as the interview began. “Wow. H looks so beautiful.”
“You’ve only just noticed?”
“Ms. Addison, take us back to the afternoon of March, twenty-first,” Jacqueline said.
Sitting on a studio couch opposite her interviewer in an impeccable blue skirt and jacket, Heather’s demeanor appeared confident and professional. “I’d just been promoted to chief executive of Zenith’s New York office when it happened. We were having an office party when the tremors began. Very quickly, there was a stampede to get out of the building.”
“And was it during your attempt to escape that your employer, Blaine Lucas, lost his life?”
Heather looked downward, clearly saddened, but she managed to pull it together again. “Yes. He was standing beside me when the stairwell collapsed. At that point, I knew there was no means by which I could get out.”
“You told our researchers that, at this time, you heard a noise and saw a flash of something on the ground floor.”
“That’s right. At first, I had no idea what it was. I was too concerned with staying alive. The only remaining stairwell led to the upper floors, so I headed up there. I couldn’t see any possible way of escaping, and the stairwells kept collapsing.”
“What happened then?”
“The Interceptor appeared on the landing. He caught me at the moment the steps collapsed from under my feet. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
An uncharacteristic hint of empathy showed in Archer’s eyes. “I have to be honest, I can’t imagine anything more terrifying.”
“It was,” Heather said. “We headed for the roof, but I still had no idea how we would escape.”
“But as we now know, it didn’t take long for you to find out.” Jacqueline turned to the camera with a surprisingly excited smile. “What follows is actual footage of Heather’s rescue from above the New York skyline.”
B.J. leaned over Jed’s shoulder with fascination, watching himself flying through the perils with Heather in his arms. All of the feelings of exhilaration and doubt that day came back to him in a heartbeat.
“Incredible,” Jacqueline said. “And soon afterward, you were offered the position of PR representative for Project: Interceptor?”
“Yes, and I don’t mind saying it came as quite a surprise,” Heather said.
“What persuaded them to offer this position to you?”
“It was partly because of my past experience in the corporate sector, which included hosting many live presentations, and the fact that I was the one of the first beneficiaries of Project: Interceptor. As I’m sure you can understand, there are very few who are more passionate about it than I am.”
“Perfect,” Crane said with a fist pump. “Damn, she’s good. Did you see how quickly she came out with that? No nerves, no hesitation.”
B.J. grinned proudly. “I sure did.”
“Many have commented that the name ‘Interceptor’ might actually cause its credibility to be compromised,” Jacqueline said. “How do you feel about that?”
“Well, what else would you call it? That’s what it’s intended to do. Intercept during times of crisis.”
“I think people are concerned that naming it after a comic book character based on the late Brandon Drake could be seen as mock-worthy.” Archer shot Heather a taunting glance. “Doesn’t Brandon Drake’s son work for your department?”
Heather gave a convincing laugh. “OK, I can see where this is going. You want to know if Agent Drake is The Interceptor.”
“Isn’t he?”
“The Interceptor is a team of operatives. And I really don’t think, when lives are being saved, it should matter what the project is called. People need to get a life and focus on priorities. It shouldn’t be an issue for anyone, even if he was called Munchkin Man.”
B.J. and Crane laughed simultaneously.
“How does she think these things up so quickly?” Crane said. “She didn’t even deny you were The Interceptor, and yet she diverted attention away from you in one brilliant move. That was the perfect message to send to the world. You want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because the plan is for it to be true.”
B.J. frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Crane looked up at him with a cunning glint his eye. “Did you really think you were going to be the only Interceptor?”
“Aren’t I?”
“No way. The armor was designed for the military. The ultimate aim has always been to create an Interceptor Squadron.”
“I . . . I guess I knew that.”
“If we can get this crap with Congress cleared up, you’ll be getting the help you need out there.”
B.J. looked back at him with a deadpan expression. He knew it made perfect sense, but found himself struggling to come to terms with the fact that he would no longer be unique.
“Don’t look so glum. You’ll always be the original,” Crane said.
“No, I won’t. My dad was.”
Archer continued. “So, why has Project: Interceptor been put on ice, Heather?”
“It’s just temporary. During the incident in Des Moines, the armor failed. I can’t give you the specifics because I’m not a scientist. But I can tell you the glitch has been thoroughly investigated, and we do know that some of the circuitry was impaired by an outside source. That’s now being mediated.”
“Damn, that reminds me,” Crane said. “I need to have a talk with Tito. Care to join me?”
“Sure,” B.J. said. “But first, I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Crane stood to face him eagerly. “Did Professor Sully find something?”
“Not exactly. We kinda figured it out together.”
“Figured what out?”
“We believe the disasters are being caused deliberately. Someone is actually doing this.”
Crane shook his head, oozing with doubt. “That’s ridiculous. Who could possibly have the means to cause that kind of destruction? And how would they be doing it?”
“We have some ideas, but we can’t imagine who it is.”
Crane held his gaze for a long moment, and finally said, “All right. But if there’s any truth to this, we’ll need to consult a few scientists to gain some insight into how it could be done. Once we know, we’ll be in a better position to know where to look.”
“My feelings exactly. Let’s start with Tito. I’d put money on it he’ll figure it out. He’s the smartest guy I know.”
Crane held B.J.’s gaze with a look of curiosity. “One thing I’ve noticed is you and Tito Mendez have become pretty close.”
B.J. briefly considered his Uncle Jed’s words and tone as they walked along the corridor to the lab. The old man was clearly intrigued by his relationship to Tito, and it gave him a moment of pause. “I have great regard for him. For many reasons.”
“Oh? Tell me about it. I’m interested.”
“He was orphaned when he was three-years-old. My dad, my Uncle Ty, and Aunt Emily were all adopted too.”
“So, you see an empathetic connection between you and him?”
“It’s more than that. I have enormous respect for Tito. He’s considered a nerd by society simply for being the kind of genius that enables the tech his mockers take for granted every day. Take the Titos out of the world, and we go back to bows and arrows.”
“Inter
esting perspective, B.J. You’re a lot more insightful than most people realize.”
B.J. stopped in his stride. “There’s one more thing. The most important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s my friend.”
Fourteen
Upgrade
B.J. and Crane stepped into the lab. B.J. noticed the INT-Nine’s mannequin was empty. “What the hell?” Turning to his left, he saw Tito deeply focused on a monitor screen.
Tito looked up. “Oh, hey, B.J. Director. What can I do for you guys?”
“Where’s the armor?” B.J. said.
Tito came toward them and held up his hands in a pacifying manner. “No cause for alarm. It’s with the engineering crew. It’s getting an upgrade. I’ve been working around the clock on a couple of contingency measures.”
“Like what?”
“Well, as with most designs, you think you’ve got everything covered until you take it on the road. There’s no way we could’ve predicted the crap you went through. I doubt old Professor Jacobson would’ve fared any better.”
“So, what have you come up with?”
“We’re lining the suit with E.L.F. blocking foil. It’s tricky because many of the sensors are close to the surface. Some need to be shielded individually, so it’ll take some time to install.”
“Will it prevent another shut down?” B.J. said anxiously.
Tito’s expression assumed a look of uncertainty. “I can’t be sure of anything. If it occurs when you’re standing on solid ground, you’re basically . . . grounded. It might have no effect at all, but we’re hoping it will at least enable some degree of power retention in the event of an incident.”
“Damn,” B.J. said through gritted teeth. “You said there were a couple of things you’re doing to it. What’s the other?”
Tito grinned excitedly. “The other thing, you’re gonna love. The one thing I’ve always seen as an Achilles Heel is the fact that a full charge is only good for six thousand miles. It places serious restrictions on the suit’s efficiency, especially with these disasters occurring all over the world. You’d run out of charge before you could even reach some of these locations.”
B.J.’s eyes widened as Tito’s implications began to register. “So, what are you doing to solve the problem?”
“I’ve designed a digital dynamo system. The boys are constructing it as we speak. Basically, the armor will be charging itself continuously while you’re using it. It’ll never run out of juice.”
“Yes!” B.J. said, elated. “Buddy, you’re the best.”
“Good thinking, Tito,” Crane said. “But we have something we need to discuss with you.”
“Sure, sir. What is it?”
“B.J. just got back from Oregon. He’s been discussing the disasters with an eminent authority on the subject. They believe the disasters are being caused deliberately.”
Tito looked from one to the other, stunned. “Whoa. Oh, boy. That’s heavy.”
“We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on how it might be done,” B.J. said.
Tito looked away pensively. Shaking his head, he said, “I have no idea. Are you thinking E.L.F. waves might be the weapon they’re using?”
“It’s all we have,” B.J. said. “E.L.F. took me down in Des Moines, and we know it can create quakes at the right frequency. What kind of equipment would be needed to do something like this?”
“I don’t know. I’ll do some research on it. But you’re right. I know it’s possible to cause localized quakes with E.L.F., but it would be easy to pinpoint. I couldn’t detect any source in Des Moines. I could have graphs sent to me of the times and locations of the other incidents. Something might show up.”
The electronic doors opened behind them, cutting off their conversation. They turned abruptly to see Senator Sloane and an entourage of security and senatorial personnel approaching.
“Senator,” Crane said. “How nice of you to visit us.”
Sloane took his hand, although the venom in his eyes was clear evidence he’d recognized Crane’s sarcastic implication. “Director.”
“What can we do for you?”
“Have you isolated the cause of the armor’s failure yet?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we have.”
“Oh?”
“A sudden influx of E.L.F. waves was the cause of the power outage. We’re currently trying to decipher the source, and we’re in the process of installing measures to the armor that will prevent a repeat of the failure.”
Sloane came closer to them with a judgmental glare. “What are you talking about, Crane? What E.L.F. source?”
“We have reason to believe the disasters are being caused deliberately, by human hands.”
“That’s absurd.”
“That’s what I said . . . at first. Now, I’m more inclined to believe it. The source that caused the disasters is almost certainly the source that caused the power outage in the INT-Nine.”
“What kind of an ass-hat are you taking me for?” Sloane said with contemptuous disregard.
“I wasn’t aware there was more than one kind, Senator.”
B.J. cringed. Jed clearly despised Sloane, and their personal differences were quickly evolving into something ugly. Taking the initiative, he stepped forward. “Senator, Tito has designed upgrades to the armor that will solve these teething troubles. Everything is in hand, sir.”
“It’s true,” Tito said.
Disregarding them, Sloane turned back to Crane. “I can’t risk it. This project has disaster written all over it. I’m going to make a recommendation that Project: Interceptor is kept on ice indefinitely. I made a mistake green-lighting it. It’s a comic book fantasy that I can’t justify.”
“Didn’t you hear a word we said?” Crane exclaimed.
“I did, and I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it on science fiction.”
B.J. saw Crane’s face flush with rage, and he knew his composure had just evaporated. It looked like the old man was about to swing at Sloane, which would surely bring major consequences for them all.
A fleeting moment before Crane lunged toward the senator, B.J. stepped between them and the security personnel shot forward. He gently rested his palms on Crane’s chest. “Easy, easy.”
“You want to start something with me, Sloane?” Crane roared.
Startled, Sloane backed away. “That kid just saved your career, Crane. One more move like that, and I’ll see to it personally that you’re finished, you understand?”
“That’s not up to you.”
“This isn’t twenty-sixteen, Crane. You no longer have Jack Brenham to cover your renegade ass.”
“Get out of here!”
Sloane held his gaze for a tense moment, and then made his way toward the elevator with his entourage in tow.
“You OK?” B.J. said, stepping back slightly to give the director a little space.
“No.” Crane paused for a moment to collect himself. “Something is very wrong. He’s suspiciously anti this project.”
B.J. glanced at the elevator door and then back at Crane. “Are you thinking Sloane is another Treadwell?”
Crane shook his head. “No. He’s just an asshole. But he could create serious problems for us. We can’t continue if he’s gonna block research and development. For there to be any hope of us going forward, I’m going to have to go over his head. We have a formidable ally who I’m confident will listen to reason.”
“Who?”
“Myers. I need to set up a meeting with him, immediately.”
“The veep?”
“The veep. Unless I can persuade him to talk to the president about it, Project: Interceptor is finished.”
Fifteen
Sensei
B.J. saw the foot coming toward him a split second before it struck. His head guard protected him, but the force of the impact knocked him to the floor of the karate dojo. Damn! They’d been slugging it out for over an h
our, and B.J. knew he wasn’t performing anywhere close to his true abilities.
“Are you OK? This isn’t like you at all. What’s going on?”
He glanced up at his sparring partner, Sensei Phillip Graham. The guy was over sixty, but still looked remarkably youthful and strikingly handsome. His full head of brown hair showed only negligible gray, and the power and agility he could demonstrate was formidable.
Their friendship had endured since their first meeting at a karate championship in Dallas four years earlier. Graham, a seventh degree black belt grandmaster was considerably more experienced than B.J., who had attained a second degree. Graham had recognized B.J.’s talent and skill and extended an invitation for him to look him up if he ever came to Washington D.C. Their subsequent meetings and workouts had been regular since B.J.’s relocation to the capital.
However, B.J. could see concern in Graham’s eyes. He knew he owed him a response. “All right. You got me, Sensei.”
“What is it? I’ve never taken you down that easily before. It’s like your mind isn’t on it.”
B.J. stood and brushed himself off. “It’s just work-related crap.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
B.J. considered the question with some reluctance, but in his heart, he knew he could use a talk. “That’d be good.”
Graham sat down beside him.
“As you know, I work for a government agency, so I can’t say too much.”
“I get that.”
“I saved a little girl from a disaster.”
Graham rested his hand on B.J’s shoulder. “Then you are, officially, a hero. You should be very proud.”
“I pulled the girl’s mother out of the wreckage, but she didn’t make it. I then had to put the little girl in the hands of the police and abandon her. I hear her voice in my head constantly, and it’s driving me insane.”
Graham was silent for a moment as a hint of recognition crossed his face. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer it.”
“OK,” B.J. said with trepidation.
“Are you The Interceptor?”