Luthecker

by Domingue, Keith

  Alex’ brief collapse was a data point outside of his Alpha Captor’s tightly controlled environment, something unforeseen, a random and unplanned variable inserted into a meticulously managed equation. Like most “unknown unknowns,” this would prove to be revealing.

  Alex did not see random events in the Universe as random at all, especially when it came to how an individual responded. Unplanned occurrences didn’t obscure the patterns of an individual they reinforced them. People rarely changed their thought process due to outside stimuli. Alex’ Alpha Captor had reacted to his seizure in a way that showed three things that Alex had already begun to suspect: one, Alex was an extremely valuable asset, worth saving even at high cost, which provided Alex some leverage. Two, his captor was willing to risk control by sending someone in his cell to save him, knowing it would risk exposure. And three, his Alpha Captor viewed individual life as something expendable without hesitation against his overall vision. At the last thought, Alex felt badly for the woman who had come in to save him.

  He filed this information in the back of his head for use later, when he would potentially stand face to face with the Alpha Captor. The bigger question now was how to manage what little he could see of the patterns of the rest of his captors in order to make that happen as soon as possible.

  He had three Beta captors, two male, and one female. “Alice” as he had humanized her, had been sent in to check on him after he lost consciousness. He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to cause his neurological system to shut down, but speculated that the frequency of the video signal and his brainwaves had somehow crossed, causing his to temporarily phase shift, leading to the brief loss of consciousness. He would look into this in greater detail later. Right now, his sole focus was on getting out.

  He had regained consciousness shortly after she had entered his cell, and although still dizzy and disoriented from blacking out, he saw her face, and had managed to get a sense for her life. He knew right away from circumstance alone that it wouldn’t last much longer.

  The lines on her visage said thirty-six years of age, the sullen features and early stage frown lines that were beginning to overwhelm her considerable beauty were not just due to the passage of time, but also to the trace patterns of concern and anxiety that came from something beyond her own self interest. The number of wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, their angle, and pattern, were associated with being a single mother. Her eyes revealed that she was intelligent but insecure, a product of above average looks and a superficial society. This low self-esteem and mixed-source anxiety had led her to getting involved with one of her co-workers and regretting it, something he had sensed before in her voice, audible even through the electronic scrambler. The decision to get involved was denial-based, mistaking love for a deep need for security, and she was beginning to realize it. She feared the momentum of her choices, and where they would lead to, which was inevitably to here, in this place, right now. Like all mothers, her fear was mostly centered on her concern for the welfare of her child.

  Her instincts told her that the Alpha Captor was extremely dangerous. Her instincts were right. But it no longer mattered, because it all led to her being at the intersection of Alex’s and the Alpha Captor’s crossed paths, unfortunate crosshairs for her, and now it was too late to change her fate. Alex wished he could save her, wished he could have changed her outlook on things, met her before all this mess, and regretted deeply that he would never have the chance. The hard reality of the matter was that there was nothing he could do or say that would allow for her to get out of the building alive.

  “Hi Alex. How are you feeling?” the mechanized voice abruptly asked over the cell intercom.

  “Hi Alice.” Alex responded. “I’m doing fine. I never got the chance to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  There was a pause. Alex closed his eyes in anticipation of what she would say next.

  “I’m not supposed to speak to you anymore. I don’t know why. But I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I don’t agree with what they are doing to you. I don’t agree with any of this.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I do. And I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Alex knew there wasn’t much time. He might as well just come out and say it. It was the only thing he could do for her.

  “Don’t worry. He’s going to be okay.”

  “Who’s going to be okay?”

  “Your son. He’s going to grow up to be a fine man. I promise.”

  Siobhan Parker sat in the observation booth, completely stunned. Her eyes began to unexpectedly well at the absolute sincerity in his out-of-left-field statement. How on Earth did he know she had a son?

  The sound of the observation booth door carefully opening interrupted her thoughts.

  “Ms. Parker?” A sheepish-looking man with thick glasses and cheap suit peaked his head in and asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Hi. My name is Mr. Isabella. Mr. Brown asked my partner and I to conduct a security audit of the building. Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”

  • • •

  “Look. On the rooftop.” The man in the passenger seat of the black Suburban said to the driver. Both men wore Coalition Assurance black combat fatigues, and each carried a matte black Glock 9mm for a sidearm. They both watched as several men began to appear on the building rooftops all around them.

  It was a purposeful display of numbers.

  “The boss isn’t going to like this.” The driver replied.

  “Yes he is; they tipped their hand. This is exactly what he wanted.”

  The passenger checked the side view mirror.

  “It gets better.”

  A small crowd had gathered behind the vehicle, blocking its exit.

  “Incoming.” The driver said, nodding towards the front windshield.

  The passenger looked up. He saw a large, muscular black man with carefully pulled back dread locks approaching them. He reached for his sidearm.

  “No.” The driver said to him, grabbing the passenger’s arm. “Not now.”

  They watched as the black man approached the driver’s side window. He held his hands out for them to see he carried no weapon. He appeared to have a pair of sticks strapped to his back. He stopped at the window and waited. The driver motored it down.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” Yaw asked.

  “Fuck off.” The driver responded.

  Yaw slowly nodded, showing no emotion.

  “Got it. You tell whoever it is that sent you, that we’re ready this time. You got that? Now get the fuck out of here, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Yaw stepped back just as a rock hit the left side rear door window of the Suburban, spider-webbing the glass.

  Both men inside the vehicle reacted to the noise, and each instinctively reached for their weapons.

  Both froze as they saw that several men now surrounded their vehicle. Regardless of race, and there were all races, White, Black, Asian, and Latin, they all had the same dead serious stare, locked onto both of them.

  The one other thing they all had in common was what appeared to be a pair of sticks strapped to their backs.

  “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” The passenger in the Suburban said to the driver.

  The driver turned the key in the ignition, and the engine of the vehicle roared to life. He quickly put the Suburban in gear.

  “We’ll be back, motherfucker.” The driver yelled out, as he turned the vehicle around, and drove off.

  Yaw watched as the Coalition vehicle disappeared around the corner.

  Chris Aldrich stood next to him.

  “They are going to be back.” He said to Yaw. “A lot more of them, next time.”

  “I know.”

  Yaw turned back towards the safe house building.

  “C’mon. We got work to do.”

  • • •

  “This is good. This is very good.” Nikki s
aid, excited, as she unpacked the Mac Pro Tower from its box.

  “How long will it take for you to set up?” Castillo asked.

  She carefully pulled the slick looking silver machine from its box, and carefully set it down. She briefly examined her inventory, the computer box, and three monitors, along with the various connective wiring.

  “Forty-five minutes. An hour, tops. Most of that’s accessing and recalibrating Phoebe for this kind of gig.”

  “You want to set up right here?”

  She looked around. The small living room table would work as a desk for the monitors and keyboard. She could place the tower by the table, put a pillow on the hardwood floor, and sit directly across from all three monitors.

  “As good a place as any.”

  Stern entered the room carrying a small brown paper bag. He dumped the contents on the table. Three prepaid cell phones.

  “So how’s this going to work?” He asked, as he watched Nikki connect computer equipment. She kept working while she answered.

  “First, I’ll find blueprints of the building. They’ll be online as a matter of public record.”

  “They’ll have made changes to the layout.” Castillo countered.

  “Not structurally.” She answered.

  “I already know the layout. I’ve been inside the building.” Stern chimed in, sensing he was slowly being pushed aside as leader.

  “You’re going to want options. I can find you those. After that, I’ll sick Phoebe on their server.”

  “That’s Pentagon-grade encryption.”

  She shot him a look.

  “Pentagon’s been hacked. Several times.” She said, like it should be open knowledge.

  She looked over the computer configuration a moment, making sure everything was in place, the CPU tower by the table and the three screens side by side on top of it before powering it up. The Mac quickly sprang to life.

  “So what’s the play here?” Castillo asked.

  “You two go in, I quarterback the moves.” Nikki answered. “But let me find out what I’m dealing with first.”

  She waited for the machine to run through its start up protocols.

  “Once I’m in their system, I’m pretty sure I can wreak havoc. Turn things off, turn things on, that sort of stuff. The more elaborate the system, the better. I can provide both distractions and a path in and out for you guys. If he’s in a cell and it’s an electronic lock, I can probably spring it from here.”

  “Won’t their system catch on and shut you out?”

  “Like I said, I can outrun them.”

  The final system icons popped up on the computer screen. The hardware was ready. She looked at Castillo and Stern.

  “For about thirty minutes. It’ll probably take less than that for them to find out where I am. That’ll be the bigger problem.”

  Stern looked at her.

  “If it takes longer than that, we’re not getting out anyway.” He answered.

  “Jesus. This is insane. It’ll never work.” Castillo nervously mumbled under his breath. Sweat was visible on his forehead.

  Stern turned to him.

  “I’ve run ops out of Afghanistan worse than this. “ The determination and Marine Sniper pride in his voice was palpable.

  “Now, they’re going to have something special waiting for us when we get there. That’s for sure.” He continued. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t give a shit. Because we’re going to go in there and kick some ass.” Stern’s voice was clearly gaining energy. He hadn’t seen straightforward conflict since his last combat tour, and the hardcore Special Forces testosterone in his system was beginning to build in anticipation.

  “You got her some tools, now I’m going to need some. Ones that are a whole lot easier for your C.I. to get.” He added.

  “What?”

  “Weapons. I’ll make you a list.”

  • • •

  “Play time is over, Alex. What did you see in Deng Zemin’s fate?” The electronically enhanced voice asked Alex. It was his Alpha captor.

  Alex sat up in his bed. He winced slightly as he carefully removed the IV from his arm. He had been waiting for this conversation.

  “You.” He finally replied. “I saw you.”

  “Remember what I said about games, Alex. I’ve been tracking your friends since the desert, and they are one phone call away from disappearing. I promise you it won’t be quick and it won’t be painless. Cheap leverage, I know, but leverage none-the-less.”

  Brown waited for a response, as he sat alone in the observation booth. He had come down to the holding cell and shooed out his two remaining analysts. Time was of the essence, and he had decided he would deal with Luthecker directly, one on one. He knew that water boarding and similar techniques would create far too many false statements and delays to be of any use, but he wouldn’t hesitate to use the threat. He also believed that the lack of direct contact would nullify any advantage Luthecker’s inexplicable perceptive abilities would have. Sitting safely in the observation booth, he was actually excited to take the young man on.

  The video monitors showed Alex moving from the bedroom to the living room.

  He hit the microphone button and spoke.

  “I want details, Alex. You watched the video. Your eyeballs did that strange thing that they do, whenever you’re absorbing the minutiae the rest of us can’t see. I watched it happen. I know you had to read something on Zemin, about his fate, and how it all ends for him. Does it end well, or does it end badly? As I’m sure you’ve figured out, his fate is intertwined with my own at the moment. He runs the Chinese Army, and nothing in that country happens without his knowledge. I want to know what his plans are, what they have that they aren’t telling us. How serious are their dealings with Iran? Russia? Are they planning to form an alliance against the United States?”

  “You already know the answers to those questions. You fear the consequences of those answers and think I can help you outrun them. But it was your actions, and the like-minded actions of those before you that set the answers in motion.” Alex replied, his voice echoing throughout the observation booth.

  “I could waterboard you, Alex. Pull your fingernails out. I could do that to all of your friends. I could do whatever I wanted to you or any one you love to get what I want to know.”

  “You could do those things. But we both know that wouldn’t get you what you want. I told you before. It doesn’t work this way. I don’t read video of people. I read people.”

  Brown watched as Alex moved from the bedroom and sat down on the living room couch, flexing his arm where the IV was.

  Alex tried not to react as his captor trumpeted his ego with threats in order to remind him who was in control. But his captor was mistaken. Threats were not control they were fear, and to gain control all Alex had to do was be the one who was not afraid.

  “I could tell you what you want to know.” Alex told his captor. “Tell you what your…options are. Put you one move ahead of your enemies. That’s what you want, isn’t it? One would think that that would be tremendously advantageous to the creation of history. Not just immediate, actionable information. But actionable future information. Worth more than gold, wouldn’t you say? Being ahead on the timeline of someone’s fate? Including your own? Because time is running out. Or you wouldn’t have me here. Time is always running out, isn’t it? That’s the one constant. The one big fear. The running out of time. The running out of everything.”

  “Philosophical rants that border on sociopathic don’t make the world a safer place, Alex. I do. And you’re not that fucking smart. You’re the one in the cage, remember?”

  “Maybe. But there’s nothing that you have, that I want.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “It would be easier if you’d just sit down across from me.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “No. It’s what you want. If you’re honest with yourself. And it’s the only way I ca
n help you. But that would require an amount of courage that I don’t believe you truly possess.”

  “Are you calling me a coward?”

  “Yes.”

  “I could kill you with my bare hands.”

  “That’s not courage.”

  “I know what you’re thinking Alex. That you can break me down like you did David Lloyd. Or worse, scramble my thinking like Marcus Stern or Nicole Ellis.”

  Alex perked up at the sound of her name. His captor’s mention of her meant the odds of him seeing her again increased. Something he very much wanted to do. All he had to do was manage to survive the next few hours. And get out.

  “Well let me tell you that there’s nothing I’ve ever done that I can’t face.” Brown continued, interrupting Alex’ thoughts of hope.

  Brown’s bold proclamation contained a certain amount of desperation detectable behind the bravado. “Nothing I’ve ever done that I’m not proud of.” He kept going. “Nothing I’ve done that I didn’t have a reason for. That I didn’t understand the sacrifice behind. What you can do may work on weaker minds, but not mine. It’s men like me who keep the darkness back so those with weaker minds never have to face it.”

  “Then you should want this. You should want to come in here and face me. And let me read your destiny.”

  “My destiny’s the same as everyone’s. I do what I have to do, and then I die.”

  “Now who’s playing games.”

  Alex looked directly into the camera and waited.

  “We both know I can’t sit across from Zemin. But you can be his proxy. It’s up to you.”

  Brown sat back in his chair. Face to face with Luthecker, he thought. What the young Terrorist had wanted all along. Had he manipulated events somehow to make this happen? It was a direct challenge, and something to be expected. Brown smirked to himself at the timeline of events that had led here. He had always had others to work the tactical side of human intelligence. First David Lloyd, then Lax and Lansky. It was not that he was incapable or feared direct contact, but it had been his belief that interaction with lower food chain individuals by management would compromise the overall vision of a better world. As leader of Coalition Properties he was the guardian of said vision, and to keep its integrity required staying one step removed from the influence of the actual flesh and blood.