Zero Day

by Jan Thompson

Yona had asked his lawyer to tell him that they were praying for him, for a speedy trial and for God’s perfect will to be done in his life.

  She didn’t have to say that it wasn’t God’s perfect will that Kelvin committed multiple crimes. However, now that he had done them all, he had to pay for them.

  At least some of them.

  The severity of his punishment would be counterbalanced by not only his actions for the greater good but also by Aspasia’s scathing testimony of what Ulysses had made her do. Hiring Kelvin was one thing, but forcing him to work for the terrorists was another thing.

  To take her mind off the matter, Yona did what she had promised Kelvin: take care of his cat.

  Her hotel was only five or six blocks away, so she decided to walk. On the way there, she stopped at a corner store to buy cat food. She remembered Kelvin saying that Mordecai liked mackerel, tuna, or shrimp. She bought all three.

  When she arrived at the abandoned building where she had first found Kelvin a month ago, she realized that the building had a new coat of paint. Perhaps it was finally sold.

  She knocked on the smaller house next door.

  After a while, an old lady opened the door.

  “Tereza?” Yona asked.

  The old lady nodded.

  Using an English-Czech translator app on her phone, Yona said, “Hello, I’m Yona. I told Kelvin that I will check on his cat.”

  Tereza greeted her back. Yona pointed her phone at her mouth so that the translator could pick up.

  “He is still here,” Tereza said.

  “The cat?”

  Tereza nodded.

  “He is eight years old, and I don’t let him go out anymore.”

  Eight years? Not too old for a cat. “Why?”

  “Because if he disappears, then when Kelvin comes out of jail, he will be sad.” The woman spoke so quickly that she had to repeat for Yona’s translator app to catch every word.

  “I brought some cat food,” Yona said.

  “Thank you,” Tereza said in English after listening to the translator app.

  She invited Yona into her cramped living room, where the furniture looked as old as the house.

  By the window, there was a slither of afternoon sunlight tracking across the wooden floor. Right in the middle of that sunshine—filtered through a sheer curtain—Mordecai was sleeping, legs spread out.

  His fur was mostly gray, with white speckles under his chin and on his belly.

  His eyes opened, and they were green.

  “Do you want to feed him yourself?” Tereza pointed to two bowls near a wall. One had water in it, and the other was empty.

  Yona hated seeing it empty.

  “Are you hungry?” Yona waved a can in front of the cat.

  Mordecai ignored her.

  “We can feed him later. He will tell us when he is hungry,” Tereza said.

  “How?”

  “He will make a lot of noise. You will hear it.” She pointed to a couch. “Please, sit down. I will bring you some tea.”

  “Thank you.” Yona found a clean spot and sat down on the couch.

  She didn’t know what else to do other than to watch the cat sleep.

  Every now and then Mordecai lifted his head to look at her.

  Slowly, he got up, and rubbed his neck against Yona’s calves. Then he climbed on the couch and started to knead the cushion. He curled up next to Yona and went to sleep.

  “I think we made a connection,” Yona said to no one.

  Hot tea came.

  “Do you have family?” Yona asked through her phone translator.

  “Two sons. They moved away,” she said quietly. “I may need to move too.”

  “Why?”

  “I can no longer afford this house. My son has been paying for this house, but his business is not good this year.”

  Yona didn’t ask what his son did. It was none of her business.

  However, the house…

  “Are you selling the house?” Yona asked.

  “I have thought of it.”

  “How old is this house?”

  “Three hundred years old.”

  “Wow.” Yona was thinking there’d be a lot of germs in this house.

  “I want to rent the upstairs rooms out because I cannot climb the stairs any more.”

  That got Yona thinking. Working for Dmitri, she was location independent. She could live in Prague, couldn’t she? She’d have to get a long-term visa or residency permit. Perhaps she could test out a visit first.

  She could have stayed in Vienna after they captured Aspasia and Ulysses. However, those two people had been sent to the International Criminal Court in The Hague. It was a slightly different court than where Kelvin was today.

  “I don’t know how long I will be here,” Yona said. “But maybe I can rent a room upstairs for three months.”

  Ninety days should be enough.

  After that, she could either go home to Israel or see where Dmitri wanted her to work next.

  Chapter 24

  For the next three years, every Tuesday night before the lights were turned off in his cell, Kelvin found himself writing another letter to Yona.

  Sometimes the letters were short, just a couple of sentences. Sometimes they were long.

  Once a week, without fail, he’d write to her.

  After collecting a month’s worth of letters—four a month—he would send the bulk mail to a post office box that Dmitri had designated in Vienna. And he would not call her by her name, only an initial.

  Truth be told, he couldn’t be sure Yona had read any of his letters, because she rarely replied except for the cards that she sent at Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, and on his birthday.

  She had said in one of her earlier letters that she had asked Leland about celebrations and holidays in the USA so that she could send him some encouragement.

  Kelvin would rather that Yona wrote more frequently, but he knew that working for Dmitri might muzzle her freedom. To protect her anonymity in town and elsewhere, Yona could not visit him at the prison.

  Perhaps it also followed that she sent him infrequent cards that had no return address.

  Tonight, Kelvin couldn’t finish his letter. Something bothered him, distracted him. That something was a card he had received that afternoon.

  He pulled out the card from the back of his Bible.

  It was from Reuel, the one who got away three years before. The one whom Yona could still be looking for.

  How are you? Hope you’re well.

  Kelvin hardly knew the man except for those weeks Kelvin had been held captive in the castle outside Prague, when Reuel had forced him and his colleagues to hijack the new network that Ulysses was trying to use to run his underground operations.

  Kelvin was glad he had helped thwart Ulysses’s plan to become the next Molyneux. That had reduced his prison time.

  Aspasia and Molyneux now shared the same prison location outside Vienna, while no one knew where they had taken Ulysses.

  Word was that the FSB wanted to talk to him. Didn’t they want to talk to Reuel too?

  Kelvin wondered how to tell Dmitri that Reuel knew where Kelvin was.

  Would it even matter to Dmitri if I live or die?

  That was a good question.

  He put Reuel’s card into the envelope meant for Yona’s letter, and sealed it. Then he decided not to send it. He put the sealed envelope back into the back flaps of his worn Bible.

  The lights went out before he could get back to his letter to Yona. Just as well. He couldn’t remember what he wanted to say to her tonight.

  To make it worse, he had been so distracted by Reuel’s card that he forgot to read his Bible. Now it was too dark.

  He stretched out on his hard bed. No roommates. No one else there but occasional rats that scurried about.

  He was used to rats since they were the same type of rats as in that abandoned building in Prague he had hidden in three years before.

  Staring
at the dark ceiling, he tried to recall the verse he’d read that morning. He had read 1 John 1:8-9 so many times that he decided to memorize it.

  If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

  Kelvin had asked multiple times for God to forgive him. Sometimes he didn’t feel like he had been forgiven of his sins, but that verse assured him that he had to put aside his feelings and trust God by faith. If God said He would forgive him of his sins, He would.

  Kelvin closed his eyes and prayed for everyone on his daily prayer list. Primarily he prayed for Yona, Leland, Cayson, Dmitri, and Dario. Not having any family of his own, these people at his work were his family.

  Before he could say amen, he fell asleep peacefully.

  Chapter 25

  A few weeks later, Kelvin was glad he hadn’t sent Reuel’s card to Dmitri.

  One fine day, while he was busy living his life in solitary confinement, the CIA showed up at the prison to see him.

  Dario de la Cruz hadn’t come alone. His colleague only introduced himself as Leonid, but he was clearly FSB.

  Kelvin could see all sorts of leverage there with the way the FSB had treated him three years before.

  “Two years off?” Kelvin leaned against the table, his handcuffs tapping the stainless-steel top.

  “Up to two years,” Dario corrected him.

  Two years of reduction in his sentence meant Kelvin could be out in eight years. However, the things they wanted him to do didn’t justify such a small compensation.

  He prayed silently for wisdom to negotiate. Somehow he wanted them to do something for him with regard to Reuel, in addition to reducing his prison sentence.

  He glanced over at his not-so-silent multilingual attorney, whom Dmitri had sent. She was writing something on her tablet.

  “What are you asking my client to do for you again?” Barbara Nováková asked.

  Dario listed it.

  Leonid added a few more to the list.

  By the time they finished, Kelvin’s attorney had swiped her tablet at least twice.

  Kelvin mulled over the situation. He was surprised that the CIA needed him for this. And that. And then some.

  “Why didn’t you ask Binary Systems to help you?” Kelvin asked Dario.

  “They are busy. You’re closest to the fire.”

  “That’s how you get third-degree burns.” Kelvin looked at Leonid, who didn’t reply. Surely he had known Kelvin’s history with the FSB.

  The fact that Leonid did not say anything so far told Kelvin a lot. It seemed to him that they would rather not have asked Kelvin for help at all.

  However, he was the only one who knew more about Ulysses’s operations than anyone else alive today. Reuel might know, but he had been missing for three years.

  “Please think about this,” Dario said. “Ulysses won’t talk. We believe he’s still in control. He has got to have someone on the outside running the show on his behalf. As long as he’s still operating, we’re all still in danger, including Leland, Cayson, Yona, you.”

  Yona.

  Kelvin tried not to freak out. He’d do anything to protect Yona. And Dario knew that.

  “I need to confer with my client,” Nováková said. “Could you wait outside for ten minutes?”

  The agents nodded and left the room.

  “Five more years. Can you handle it?” Nováková asked.

  “They’re asking a lot. If I succeed, Ulysses’s people will come after me and I could lose my life. So two years off are insufficient.”

  Nováková nodded.

  “Even though the Telemachus network is shut down, and both Ulysses and Aspasia are serving time, along with Molyneux, there are others willing to take their places. Those are the people I fear more.”

  Kelvin knew he should only fear God, but the threats of Ulysses’s successors were a big unknown at this point. His life could be in the balance.

  “So we need them to set you free sooner.”

  “What about house arrest?” Kelvin asked. “With an ankle monitor, they’ll know where I am at all times.”

  “Right. So maybe one more year in here and two years of house arrest. You probably can’t leave Prague.”

  “I don’t mind that,” Kelvin said. “However, I want to be allowed out once a week to go to the theater or walk along the river.”

  “They’ll probably have to send a guard. All that costs money.”

  “Make the CIA and FSB pay for it.” Kelvin was confident they’d agree.

  Nováková nodded. “They really need you, don’t they?”

  “Yes. If they won’t let me out in four years, what then?”

  “Technically, you won’t be out. You’d still be in prison—if house arrest is a form of prison. They might even require you to work for the CIA and you can’t do anything else.”

  Kelvin realized they were discussing his freedom. How far had he fallen! When he had been a kid, he hadn’t realized how precious his freedom was. Now that he had lost it…

  “I’d rather stay here one more year if it means I can get more freedom afterwards,” he said.

  “Perhaps if you stay here for five years—another two years—and they let you out for two years under a modified house arrest in which you will be allowed to walk about within the city, with no access to the internet except when you’re working for the CIA or FSB.”

  “Or for Dmitri Proskouriakoff. His company is a contractor for the CIA, and he was former FSB, although he defected to the USA a very long time ago. Find out if I can work for him while under house arrest.”

  “In Prague.”

  Kelvin nodded.

  “That’s a lot of freedom. You’re supposed to be a prisoner.”

  “Do they want Ulysses’s cohorts or not?”

  “Good point.” Nováková smiled.

  “One more thing.” Kelvin decided to play his trump card. “On top of all that, I want them to promise to do whatever they need to find Reuel.”

  “Who?”

  Kelvin told his attorney about Reuel. “He has disappeared three years ago, as far as I know. As long as he is still out there, a person dear to me could be in danger. I want the CIA and FSB to find him and get him out of the way. In return I will do whatever they ask me to do related to Ulysses.”

  Eliminating Ulysses’s threat would also protect Yona.

  “Is this person still alive?” Nováková asked. “You said he’s been missing for three years.”

  “Oh yeah. He’s still around.” Kelvin produced the envelope from his pocket. He tore it and handed the card to his attorney.

  “It’s just a card.”

  “To you it is, but to Dario et al, it says that Reuel knew which prison I’m in—even though nothing was said in the news—and he was able to get a message to me. The note is benign on the outset, but he wants me to know he is still around.”

  “So? You’re safe here.”

  “He also knows that the woman I love is out there.”

  “Then we do whatever we can to get a win-win situation.”

  “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

  Irony of ironies. Thanks to Ulysses, Aspasia, and Molyneux still being alive, their presence in this world meant that Kelvin was still useful to the authorities who wanted to destroy their terrorist organizations.

  He was still needed by the governments who had once abandoned him to the wolves.

  “You’re tougher than I thought,” Nováková said.

  “I’ve had three years to toughen up. If I am not tough, I’d perish in this prison.” Kelvin looked at his attorney kindly. “Thank you for letting me get solitary confinement. You saved my sanity.”

  “Thank God. It was a miracle they agreed.”

  “Yes, thank God indeed. Even in my pit of despair, He is with me.”

  Nováková glanced at her watch. “It’s more than ten minutes
.”

  She motioned for the guard to let Dario and Leonid back into the room while Kelvin silently prayed that the CIA and FSB would agree to their counteroffer.

  It was indeed a win-win plan, but Kelvin didn’t want to think about the fact that he had more to lose overall if they decided not to go for it.

  It would mean ten total years in this prison.

  Ten years of solitary confinement writing letters that nobody might read.

  He had served three years, but seven more years would mean he’d be forty-two years old when they let him out.

  By then, his faithful cat, Mordecai, could be dead.

  And Yona could have moved on. She deserved to move on.

  Kelvin blinked away a tear.

  Chapter 26

  Yona’s initial ninety days of renting a room from Tereza turned into twelve months, and twelve months turned into three years, until that day Yona received word that Kelvin had started cooperating with the CIA and FSB in their joint operation.

  Three years then turned into five, with Yona busy working for Dmitri, flying everywhere with him to various places in Europe, from Prague to Vienna to Paris and then back to Prague.

  Dmitri had established more projects in Europe for the computer company he co-owned. While his business partner focused on business in North America, Dmitri chose to expand their division in Europe.

  So much for Dmitri’s desire to retire.

  And he wanted Yona close by. Treating her more like a daughter than an employee, Dmitri had shown her more favor than any of her previous mentors.

  Yona was careful not to overstep her boundaries. She knew that Dmitri had a daughter living in the United States. Any day now, the daughter could take over his operations.

  For now, Dmitri did what Dmitri wanted.

  It made sense for Dmitri to be headquartered in Prague. The office building was nice, and Yona liked walking or cycling to work. She didn’t even own a car.

  Sometimes Yona had to work on weekends, but not today. The morning air was cool, and she wanted to walk before the sun warmed up this Saturday in June.

  She hadn’t heard from Kelvin in a few months. The agencies worked him hard. He had told her in his letters that he wanted to work hard. The more he worked, the more years they would take off his incarceration.