by Thomas Locke
Kevin said, “I have reviewed the intel gathered by Reese’s team. She has made astonishing progress. I can find no—”
Vera cut in, “Reese using you as a cheerleader does not make this report acceptable.”
Reese and Kevin exchanged a look across the conference table. Kevin sat with his back to the sunlit highway. “Give us a minute.” He reached out and hit the mute button. “You notice anything different?”
Reese said, “She’s not gloating over our apparent failure.”
Kevin nodded. “I actually think she’s nervous.”
“Someone is monitoring her.”
“That someone may actually be there in the room.” He reached forward, hit the button, and said, “We did discover one thing. It’s not an actual opening so much as an alternative take on the company’s overall status.”
“We’re listening.”
She and Kevin flashed another look across the table. We. Kevin said, “There’s an issue regarding the ownership of their latest acquisition.”
There was the sound of pages being turned. “Beadle Scopes.”
“Reese has reformed the team. They have taken our work here to a completely different level, and done so in a matter of—”
“Skip the compliments,” Vera said. “Get to the meat.”
“John Beadle sold out because he doesn’t trust his son,” Kevin said. “Which is wise, because according to what Reese’s team has uncovered, Roger Beadle couldn’t run a taco stand. He remains a member of society only because his juvie records have been sealed. For the past eight years, ever since he turned eighteen, he has lived in Australia, from where he supposedly runs Beadle’s Far East office.”
“Supposedly,” Vera repeated.
“Correct. More capable people do all the heavy lifting. Roger’s job is basically to stay out of trouble.”
There was the sound of more pages turning. “Our records show Beadle Jr. is clean.”
“Roger is anything but clean. He’s just learned to hide his dark side. He’s joined up with a local syndicate. They serve as a conduit for the Beadle products, reselling them for huge profits to paramilitary organizations and blacklisted governments. And now they’re doing the same for Kray. Roger Beadle is his father’s only living heir, who now owns a twenty-two percent share in Kray. Beadle Sr. is the second largest shareholder after the Kray family trust.”
Vera went quiet.
Kevin’s cadence slowed. Each thought carrying surgical precision. “The problem is, we’re not sure how much of a lever this gives us. If Reese goes in and divulges this information, they all risk being brought up on federal charges. Every member of the board and every employee with prior knowledge would be facing serious jail time.”
Vera did not respond.
“Say you send Reese in to address the Kray board. They might give us a onetime payment just to shut us up. But Roger Beadle is a rogue element. Kray bought into this company. It’s not like we’ve discovered an inside problem.”
Vera said, “Stay on the line.” There was a sharp click, then nothing but the scrambler’s muted whisper.
Kevin said, “She’s discussing this with somebody else.”
Reese kept her fists jammed to her gut, trying to still the creepy-crawlies. “Yes.”
“So what—”
The line clicked again, and Vera said, “We’ll take it from here.” There was a single pop, sharp as a silenced gunshot. All the lights along the central cone went red.
Kevin said, “I think we just hit their button.”
Reese returned from Kevin’s office to her apartment and put on her training gear. She took the stairs to the basement gym, where she found Ridley working out while Carl sat on a weight bench. Reese liked how Carl met her eye, liked even better how he nodded a greeting.
Reese started her routine. It had been developed to fit a nine-by-eleven cage. She knew she could take up more space. But just then the important thing was to burn off the aftereffects. She felt tired and jittery, her muscles firing to a random pattern. She ignored the two other people. The room did not exist. There was nothing here but the invisible bars, the confines that still held her. She was going to break free. That or die trying. It was only a matter of time.
When she finished, Reese settled onto the mat, breathing hard. Ridley reached into the basket by the water fountain and tossed Reese a towel. Then she stationed herself by the wall, over next to where Carl still sat. “You did solid up there.”
Carl said, “The voyagers are going to put your name in lights.”
Reese used the towel to wipe her face. “You know I’m not after that.”
Ridley felt comfortable enough to sit cross-legged on the mat by Carl’s bench. “So what is it you want from us?”
“Three things now, one later. First, we need to find a way to anchor the voyagers without risking those beasts taking over.”
Ridley did not so much nod as rock her upper body. “That’s one.”
“We are paid to find vulnerabilities in certain corporations. We keep doing our job, else the money faucet gets cut off and we’re shut down.”
“That’s two.”
Reese leaned forward. “Number three has to stay just between us.”
Ridley responded by walking over and locking the door. Then she returned to the mat beside Carl’s bench. “We’re listening.”
Reese told them, “We need to discover who is running this gig.”
“You don’t know?”
“I have a cutout named Vera. She’s put me and Kevin in place. As far as the outside world is concerned, we’re in complete control. But Vera fronts a group intent on remaining totally hidden. They are pulling our strings from the shadows.”
Carl said, “They’ll be watching and waiting to see if we go after them.”
“That’s right. They will.”
“So we need to develop some stealth tactics.” Ridley glanced at the big man. “Long as you got my back.”
Carl shrugged. “That’s my job.”
Ridley offered him a fist. “Way to rock and roll, partner.”
Carl studied the fist like he had never seen one before. Or at least never been offered one like this. Finally he lifted his own fist, held it an inch or so away from Ridley’s. Ridley knocked him from the top, bottom, then straight on. When she turned back, Carl might have smiled.
Ridley asked, “So what’s number four?”
“I told you. That’s for later.”
“When you trust us, right?”
“No, Ridley. I trust you now. With my life. But the last thing has to wait until we start extending ourselves further.”
“I can dig that. Taking things to the limit.”
“I’m not so sure there are any. Limits, I mean.” Reese scrubbed her face again with the towel, anything to release some of the electric frisson. “But first we need to work out some form of a shield that doesn’t rely on the midnight crew.”
Ridley started rocking again. “You’re thinking those four, sooner or later they’re going off the reservation again.”
“I know they will. It’s only a matter of time.”
“And when they do, you’re going to take them down.”
Reese did not reply.
“Well, you can count me in.” Ridley glanced up. “Right, partner?”
“I’m only on day two and I’m already done with that group,” Carl said.
Reese slid across the mat, moving closer. “Now start at the beginning and tell me everything that’s happened since your first voyage.”
36
Outlier data is inevitable,” Brett told the surgeon. “Run any experiment long enough, and there will always be measurements that don’t fit logically within the research parameters. Scientists are human and their experiments are not perfect. So once in a while we are forced to deal with data that makes no sense. Either they file this away in a footnote, or they risk demolishing their experiment.”
Bishop touched the open collar of his
frayed shirt, the place where the knot of his tie would have been. Lena assumed it was a habit he had gained during his days and weeks and months in court. The surgeon opened his mouth as though he wanted to object, but no sound emerged.
Brett continued, “There was something special about your outlier data. It probably happened just once at first. If there had been several identical results, you would have been forced to include it. No matter how ridiculous, how bizarre, how insane. Then later it happened again. And a third time.”
Lena enjoyed watching Brett. In moments like this, his intelligent magnetism was so powerful she could ignore the warning tingles in her gut. The ones that whispered about heartache to come. The guy, she realized, was born to challenge and inspire others.
Bishop said hoarsely, “And a fourth. And a fifth.”
Brett nodded slowly, on the doctor’s wavelength. “But you were already into human trials, weren’t you. So the question was, what should you do? And the facts were crystal clear. These outlier events did not impact the data you were collecting. The subjects who had these experiences, they still recorded the same improvements to the problems that had brought them into your trial.”
The doctor’s right hand scrambled across the cardboard box next to him. The tremors were more pronounced as he asked a second time, “Did I kill them?”
“If what I suspect happens, your outlier events had nothing whatsoever to do with their deaths,” Brett replied.
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because I have initiated these same events hundreds of times.”
They took the three taxis back to the doctor’s modest apartment and waited while he packed his things. Bishop had gradually been closing down on himself since they left the clinic. Lena understood. Relearning the challenge of hope was tough. It opened old wounds. She could see the cost there on his face. But Bishop plugged along, allowing them to help carry his four cases and one cardboard box.
The drivers let them stow the final bits in their front passenger seats. They drove to the inn and bribed the concierge to use his luggage room for the night. When they had unloaded all the cartons, Lena paid off two of the taxis and asked the third to wait. She made final plans with Robin as Chester checked them in. All the while, Brett stood on the inn’s front veranda and talked softly into his phone.
When Lena said her farewells and stepped outside, Brett raised his hand, indicating he knew she was waiting. Lena did not mind the delay. The private jet was long gone, and the flight Robin had booked them on left in three hours. There was no rush, and the night was intensely beautiful.
The inn fronted a square filled with ancient oaks and the rush of an ocean breeze. Spanish moss drifted and swayed and whispered to her, inviting her to set down her burdens and rest a spell. The surrounding houses glowed softly, many of them burning gas lights by their entries. Lena stood by the porch railing and promised herself a few days here when things settled down.
Brett pocketed his phone and walked over. “Sorry to make you wait.”
Lena remained where she was. “You reported to the people in Italy?”
“They’re in Switzerland. Yes.”
“You think all this is tied together?”
“I am certain of it.” Brett leaned against the neighboring pillar. “The lines of convergence are not visible. But they exist. The leader of our group, Dr. Gabriella Speciale, agrees. She would like to speak with you.”
“Now? It must be very late over there.”
“Well after midnight. It doesn’t matter. Gabriella has a scientist’s ability to ignore the clock.”
“What’s she like?”
“Beautiful. Extremely intense. Highly intelligent. She has the ability to help draw elements together. Clarify directions.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing about you,” Lena replied. She reached out. “Can I use your phone?”
Brett handed it over. It felt warm from his touch. “Hit redial.”
Instead, she slipped it into her pocket. “While we were with Bishop, you mentioned two issues that we have to discuss.”
Brett remained silent.
“First, you told him that he could be in danger. I need to know why. It so happens I think you’re probably right. But I want to know why you thought you needed to say it.”
Brett nodded slowly. “That’s one.”
“Number two is the outlier data. It’s tied to the secret you’re carrying, isn’t it.”
“Several secrets,” Brett agreed. “Make the call. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
BOOK 3
37
As soon as Lena settled into the taxi, she placed the call. Dr. Gabriella Speciale said in greeting, “You must have many questions.”
“So many,” Lena replied, “I don’t know where to start.”
“So let me offer a few observations about what is happening. All this began as a small research project aimed at creating a measure of harmonious brain-wave patterns. It has evolved into something greater than any of us. Now there are a cluster of projects. A Tibetan doctor leads a team outside Rome. Brett travels the United States, revealing our preliminary ascent state to dying patients, working alone until he met you. A theoretical physicist and his business partner operate out of Santa Barbara. Associates continue our base trials at universities in Milan and Vienna and Rome. If I were forced to label our entire group, I would have to say we have not yet arrived at a point where we can even name what is happening. But if you like, I will tell you what I think.”
Lena had heard enough to love the way Gabriella spoke. Her accent created a musical lilt, and her voice was honeyed in the manner of someone who was accustomed to being both beautiful and in charge. “Please do.”
“I think we are evolving. We have received an invitation to move beyond our comfort zones. We are not in lockstep. Instead, we are each developing a crucial component of something far greater. So great, in fact, we have difficulty even seeing our own tiny fragments. You have made money from a rather incredible business project. Now you are being asked by your temporal self to step into something far more challenging. To you, all this seems both illogical and threatening. To me, it says that you are one of us.”
To have a highly intelligent woman speak to her in such a manner, calmly declaring that everything she had endured actually made sense, left Lena’s eyes burning. She swallowed against the emotions and asked, “Are we in danger?”
“Most definitely. Every step we have taken thus far has been met with severe opposition. That is why I wanted to speak with you tonight. I would like to have my beloved join you. His name is Charlie Hazard. You can ask Brett about him. Charlie is an expert at keeping people safe.”
Lena supposed she should have been made more nervous by yet another person declaring that danger surrounded them. But the sense of being in the company of people she could trust grew stronger still. People who understood. She wiped her eyes. “All right. Yes.”
“Good. Thank you.” Gabriella sighed into the phone. “Now I will sleep easily. I loathe the prospect of this evolving project bringing anyone into danger.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Lena said.
“Excellent. That is settled. Charlie has already left for the Zurich airport. He departed while I was still speaking to Brett. With your permission, Charlie will fly tomorrow morning to New York. Now tell me something about yourself. Please. I want to know who it is that is about to become one of my closest friends. It is a very Italian thing to say, yes? Completely illogical. We have never met, but our few words are enough to make me certain of this.”
“I left logic behind a long time back,” Lena replied. “And I feel the same way.”
“That is so nice to hear. Do you have something you wish to share with me?”
Lena rolled down the taxi’s window and spoke into the wash of warm Georgia breeze. “Things are moving so fast I haven’t had time to digest anything. Or come to terms with what it might all mean. Not for your proj
ect. For me personally.”
“You must still take time for yourself,” Gabriella said. “Have a nice meal, savor the wonder of life. What is the one thing you most wish you had time to do?”
“I’m embarrassed to say it.”
“Do so anyway. Please.”
“Speak with my boss. Tell him everything.”
Gabriella was silent for a long moment. “Do you trust him?”
“Yes.”
“So much you are willing to place the lives of your entire team in his hands?”
It was Lena’s turn to go quiet.
“This you must decide before you make any such declarations. I would suggest you enter into this slowly. Develop the groundwork that will lead him to accept the impossible before you actually declare it.”
Lena nodded to the soft wind. “That makes perfect sense.”
“See this as an expedition into life’s wonders and mysteries. Taking such care frames a safe passage.” If anything, Gabriella’s accent had deepened, become even more lyrical. “What else excites you in this moment?”
Lena was silent. There was no way she would say what came to mind, which was, sitting and talking to Brett.
Somehow Gabriella caught a whiff of her repressed excitement, for she laughed softly, then said, “As one friend to another, I advise you to go and savor the exquisite joy of redefining your boundaries.”
Brett stood behind Lena at the Delta check-in counter and had his ID ready when she asked. He could see she was surprised to discover that Robin had booked them into first-class seats.
He liked standing back and observing Lena. Her features were stained by a fatigue far deeper than this one day. He wished there was something he could do that would light up her face like Gabriella had in their conversation. Instead, he was going to offer her a perfectly valid reason to walk away.