Brave New World

by David Archer

  “If maybe he was expecting to get a share out of whatever Dr. Williamson was supposed to get? That would be a reasonable assumption, especially if he suddenly changed his story. We’ll check it out, and don’t worry, Mark. We won’t tell him you said anything. Just be sure you don’t tell anyone what we’re talking about in here. If you do, we can charge you with interfering with an investigation, and that would ruin your day for quite a while, too.”

  Mark swallowed, trying to get his breathing back under control. “No, sir, I won’t say a word to anyone. Uh, if I could suggest? You might want to talk to Willie Burnett, too. Willie’s been acting kind of strange the past week or so, like he’s scared of something. Keeps looking over his shoulder, and he jumps if you speak and he didn’t know you were there.”

  Steve smiled. “Good, and thanks. We’ll check them both out, and if you think of anyone else, you let us know, okay?”

  Mark’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t think of anyone else, sir,” he said, “but once I leave this room, there’s no way I’m coming back voluntarily. If I did, everyone else who knows what you’re asking would think I was trying to snitch someone out, and I can’t afford that.”

  Steve killed the smile. “I can understand that. You can go.”

  Mark was out like a shot, and Stanley stepped into the room again. “Sir, I got a few people together already, and I've got them waiting down the hall. I figured it would all go faster that way, if that’s all right?”

  “That’s good thinking, Stanley. Do you happen to have Tony Pedigo or Willie Burnett in that group?”

  Stanley looked at his clipboard. “Uh, I've got Willie. You want him next?”

  Steve grinned. “I think he’ll do fine. Bring him in, then go find Mr. Pedigo and keep him close until we’re ready for them.”

  *

  “Patrick, you’ve had some motion,” Doctor Tripp said. He pointed to the x-ray image on his computer screen, indicating a small white dot that was showing up clearly. “This is the piece of shrapnel that was in your left deltoid muscle. It's now gone deeper and is in contact with the brachial artery that runs down your arm. If it breaks through, there’s a possibility it could travel through your bloodstream and make it into either your heart or your lungs.”

  Pat looked at the image. “And either of those would be a bad thing, am I right?”

  “They wouldn’t be good. There’s also the chance it could get into your brain, which would be equally bad. I think we need to get it out of there.”

  Pat looked at him. “What, you mean today?”

  Tripp’s eyes showed humor, but they were also serious. “Yes, I mean today. It won’t take more than an hour, and I can do it right here. Pat, you don’t want to leave it where it is, rubbing on that artery. Even if it only cuts through, you’re talking about some serious internal bleeding, and we wouldn’t even know about it until your underarm started filling up with blood. Give me the okay, and we can get an anesthesiologist up here and get it done.”

  Pat looked over at Becky. “Doc, I don’t think today is the right time...” he began, but Becky cut him off.

  “Pat, don’t be silly,” she said. “The doctor says you need to do this now, and it’s not like we’re in a hurry. Can I stay here and hold his hand?”

  Dr. Tripp chuckled. “Sure, but you have to wear a mask,” he said. He turned to Pat. “I haven’t met this one, yet,” he said. “The youngest?”

  Pat and Becky both laughed. “She’s not my daughter, Doc,” Pat said. “We’re just friends. She needed to come over today, so I got her to ride along and keep an old man company. Looks like I’m outvoted, so I guess we’ll go ahead.”

  Tripp smiled. “I wish I had a friend like that,” he said. “She’s a pretty one, Pat. And she wants to hold your hand during minor surgery? I’d be thinking about asking her for a date, if I was you.” He winked at Becky, and she blushed.

  “Too late,” she said. “He already did, he’s taking me to lunch when you get done with him.”

  Tripp grinned. “Well, you may have to settle for our cafeteria,” he said. “Pat’s not going to be in shape to drive for a couple of hours. The anesthesia won’t knock him out, but he’ll be a bit groggy, and then he’ll need some pain meds for a day or two.”

  “I’ll be fine, you old quack,” Pat shot at him. “And she can drive, if she has to.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Tripp said. “Let’s just get that out of you before it kills you, shall we?”

  He left the room for a couple of minutes and Pat turned to Becky. “You sure? We really oughta get you over to see those people.”

  “A few more hours is not going to matter one way or another,” Becky replied. “But I think the doctor is right, and you need to get this taken care of right now.” She leaned close and smiled sweetly. “And if you’re a good boy, maybe you can stay in town for tonight, and I can show you what a good night nurse I can be.”

  Pat grinned. “Bring on the scalpel,” he said. “I’m ready. Who needs anesthesia?”

  The doctor returned a few minutes later with an anesthesiologist who helped Pat get settled on the table and then started an IV in his arm. She checked to make sure the saline solution was flowing properly, then inserted a large syringe into a port on the IV tube and injected about a third of the fluid it held. “That’ll take effect in a few minutes,” she said. “You’ll remain awake and cognizant, but you may feel a bit woozy. I’ll be here through the whole procedure, so if you start to feel any pain, just let me know and I’ll increase the dosage.”

  Meanwhile, Dr. Tripp had taken Becky aside and given her a surgical gown and mask to wear. She slipped them on and then the doctor handed her a surgical cap to go over her hair, and she added that. Once the doctor nodded that she was ready, she went to the side of the table and took Pat’s right hand in both of hers.

  “Remember,” she said. “You’ve got to be a good boy.”

  Pat laughed, and the look in his eyes was enough to tell them all that he was feeling the anesthesia. A nurse came in and used a small electric trimmer to shave the hair under his right shoulder, and then the anesthesiologist handed the doctor another syringe. The doctor injected its contents into several places around Pat’s left armpit, and a moment later, he picked up a scalpel and made a small incision right in the middle.

  Pat squeezed Becky’s hand and grimaced, but she didn’t think he was really feeling much pain. “You’re okay,” she said.

  “I know it,” Pat replied. “Just a little twinge is all. Little sting. You have such pretty eyes.”

  Becky giggled. “Thank you,” she said. “Yours are pretty nice, too.”

  The doctor took a pair of long tweezers and pushed them into the incision, and a few seconds later he grunted. He pulled them back out and Becky saw a piece of metal about the size of an aspirin drop into a tray.

  “Was that it?” she asked, and the doctor nodded.

  “That was the culprit,” he said. “See how sharp it is on the edge? That would have cut through the artery within a short time, and that would have made it a lot worse. Internal bleeding can lead to sepsis, a blood infection that can be fatal. I think this was the right move, today.”

  Becky looked down at Pat, who was smiling like a happy child. “Yeah,” she said. “Me, too.”

  The doctor stitched up the incision and covered it with a brown goo, then added a small bandage. When he was done, he nodded to the anesthesiologist, who stepped in and removed the IV, taping down a piece of gauze over the hole the needle had made.

  “Patrick, you sit here and let that wear off for a little bit,” Tripp said, “and I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing. You can flirt with the pretty girl while I’m gone.”

  Becky grinned and looked back at Pat. “Well? You gonna flirt with me?”

  “Yep!” Pat said, and then he started laughing and couldn't stop for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said when he got it under control. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I was just thinking about w
hen Maggie was alive. She would have liked you, Becky. She woulda been jealous as hell if she had ever seen me looking at you, but she would’ve liked you anyway. I think she would approve of us being friends.”

  Becky smiled sadly at him. “It's funny,” she said. “Mac’s only been gone a few days; I should probably feel at least a little guilty about last night, but I don’t. This morning, I actually wondered if maybe he’s been guiding me, if maybe he brought me to where I’d meet you. I doubt that’s really true, but I think he would approve. I think he would understand, and I think he would have liked you, too, Pat.”

  Pat smiled at her, but she saw the tears that leaked out of his eyes and reached up to wipe them away. It was then that she noticed her own, and she pulled his hand up to her cheek and pressed it against her face.

  Dr. Tripp came in a half hour later and said Pat could leave. He gave him a prescription for some mild pain pills that he said should be good enough, and they made a stop at the pharmacy to get it filled before they headed to the parking lot.

  “I’m still a little light-headed,” Pat said. “Think you can drive that beast of mine?”

  “I’m sure I can manage,” Becky said. She took the keys from his hand and used the remote to unlock it, then walked around to the passenger side with him first. She opened the door and he climbed inside, then she went around and spent a minute adjusting the seat so that she could reach the pedals.

  “Where would you like to eat?” she asked.

  “There’s a place right over there,” Pat said, pointing to the east, “called Callie’s. Best lunch in all of Denver, if you ask me. Steak sandwiches and burgers, seafood, you name it. Let’s go there.”

  Becky started the truck and put in gear. “Show me where to go.”

  They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later and Becky held Pat’s hand as they went inside and let the hostess seat them. They chose a table and sat across from one another, looking at the menus while the waitress fetched the soft drinks they ordered.

  “Wow, this does look good,” Becky said. “I’m thinking the small steak sandwich, for me. What about you?”

  “I’m a bit hungry,” Pat said. “I think I’ll go for the porterhouse sandwich. Big ol’ slab of steak with the bone cut out, and it’s so good!” He sat and looked at her for a moment, and Becky felt her cheeks growing warm. “Sorry,” he said after he noticed her blushing. “I don’t mean to stare, but you’re just so beautiful. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  Becky smiled at him. “No, not at all,” she said. “I’m just not used to it. Mac, he seemed to think I was pretty, but I think he just got used to me being there. It feels funny to have someone looking at me and complimenting me so much.”

  They placed their orders and talked as they waited, but the wait wasn't long. When the food arrived, Becky was amazed at the size of the sandwich on Pat’s plate, but he managed to put it away with no problem. Hers was much smaller, but she ended up asking for a box to put half of it in.

  She looked at the clock over the cash register. “It's almost two in the afternoon,” she said. “I guess I need to go see Windlass. How do you feel about staying over tonight? Would you like to, or do you want to go on back home?”

  Pat looked into her eyes, then reached across the table and took her hand. “You know what I want to do? I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with you. Becky, I haven’t felt this good in a long, long time. As far as staying overnight, there is nothing at all back home that I need to get to. Once we get you sorted out with Windlass, I’ll be more than happy to get us a room, or two rooms if you prefer.”

  Becky smiled, and they both got up from their chairs. Pat had already paid the check, so they went out to the parking lot, where Pat took the keys back. He opened her door and she climbed in, and then he had to move the driver’s seat back before he could get in. Becky saw him wince as he grabbed the door with his left hand to help hoist himself inside, but she didn’t say anything. She knew that men needed to look tough, now and then.

  15

  First up that morning was Denny Cortlandt, who came into Sam’s office only a minute after eight. “Morning, sir,” he said in his crisp British accent. “Just thought I’d report. So far, there’s very little to be found as far as any sort of chatter about the chip. Russia, Japan, Germany, North Korea and China are all rumored to be working on something like it for military purposes, of course, but there are as many rumors about the U.S. of A. and the U.K., so it may all be flak. I did hear back from a friend at the CIA who says Russia is also asking questions about it.”

  Sam looked up at him. “Russia? Would they be potential buyers, do you think?”

  “I wouldn't expect so,” Denny said. “To be honest, I’d be more likely to believe they’d have their own program that might be at least equal to anything over here, but I suppose it’s possible they might want to see what advances C-Link has made. A theft like this is going to lead to some international rumors, at the very least.”

  Sam leaned back in his chair. “What about the North Koreans? I can imagine that little madman wanting his hands on something like this. Good grief, the applications for spying alone could make it priceless to a dictator.”

  “Indeed,” Denny said, “but as far as I can tell, they don’t even have any research into BCI of their own going on. South Korea does, but in concert with Japan as far as we know.”

  “Well, then it’s likely we’re not looking at any kind of national actor,” Sam said. “Whoever bought this was probably working on behalf of a corporate competitor, rather than another country. That’s a relief in some ways, but a major pain in others, because the corporate intelligence networks aren’t nearly as readable as the international.”

  “I agree. Perhaps I can start to look in those directions? I have some experience with the dark web, and that would be the place to start, I believe.”

  Sam nodded. “Go for it,” he said, “and let me know immediately if you come across anything. And if you hit any roadblocks, I want to know about those, too.”

  “Very good, sir,” Denny said as he turned to leave.

  Moments later, Jenna beeped Sam on the intercom. “Sir, Summer Raines is on line four for you.”

  Sam thanked her and picked up the phone, then punched the button for line four on speakerphone. “Summer? Sam Prichard. That was quite a report you sent in.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’d have called sooner, but I had to catch a little sleep. I wondered if you had any thoughts on what to do with this guy.”

  “Landry? Castration and hanging come to mind, but we’ll leave that up to a jury. What do you think?”

  “Well, I was thinking about his connection to the triads. If Jade was willing to come out here, we might be able to get some insight into how deeply they’re involved in the secrets business, and maybe even get a lead on who bought the chip.”

  Sam’s eyebrows inched together. “You think she can honestly help?”

  Summer giggled. “Sir, Jade is Chinese, and speaks fluent Mandarin. I think she would be a lot more likely to find any leads in Chinatown than I am, and if we squeeze from both angles, I think we might be able to get something.”

  “Hang on a moment,” Sam said. He put her on hold and hit the intercom. “Jenna, is Jade in the building yet?”

  “Yes, sir, at her desk.”

  “Ask her to come down to my office, please.” He returned to the line with Summer. “I just sent Jenna to get her. Let’s see what she thinks about this.”

  “Cool,” Summer said. “I’d really like to get back on Landry today. By the time I got done with him last night, he was telling me about things he’s done that aren’t even related to this case. Some of them were pretty interesting, to be honest.”

  From the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Joel sitting at the conference table with his eyes closed, and had to stifle a grin. From the way he had looked at Summer the day before, Sam figured he was using his implanted chip to call up a mental image
he could drool over while she talked.

  Jade tapped on the door a second later and Sam called her in. “Jade, I've got Summer on the line. She’s come across intel in San Fran that implicates a triad. How would you feel about flying out to assist?”

  “I’d be glad to,” Jade said with a smile. “In fact, I've been cooped up here for weeks, so it’d be a break from the monotony. I’m guessing you’d want me to try to find a link between the triad and the buyers?”

  “That’s the idea,” Summer said. “I’m working on the lawyer who set up the deal for the triad, and he’s willing to help, but all he knows about them is a couple of names. Fei and Cho are the ones he mentioned.”

  Jade smiled and gave a quick nod. “With your permission, sir, I’ll schedule a plane and get on the way ASAP. If I get on it now, I could be there by lunch.”

  Sam smiled. “Go, and be careful, both of you. Report in at least twice a day, okay?”

  Both women said they would, and Sam cut off the call. He turned to Joel, who was still sitting with his eyes closed. “Hey, you okay? Joel?”

  Joel’s eyes snapped open. “Me? Oh, yeah. I was just reading some newspapers online. Thought I’d run a search and see if there’s anything new about what’s happening with this case, but the only things I can find are rehashes about Dr. Williamson and McGill, and the smoke screen stories the company put out. Nothing new, and nothing that might give us a lead.”

  Sam grinned at him. “See? We’ll make an investigator out of you, yet. What do you mean about smoke screen stories?”