The Phoenix Egg

by Richard Bamberg

  “That’s right. There was a brief mention a couple of years ago about the city of Boise, Idaho missing the CNN news for ten minutes. It was later reported to be a problem with a satellite downlink, but it turned out that all of the older televisions, the ones without the V-chips, received CNN.”

  “Someone blocked the news?”

  “That’s right. The stories being covered were about a pregnant panda, a minor oil spill off the coast of Chile, and a follow-up story on an ex- figure skater’s saving some woman’s life by performing CPR.”

  “It was a test. My God. Someone was testing their system. That’s ... that’s un-American.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But how can that be? How can anyone get funding to create such a program? How can they hide it? How can....”

  Caitlin let her voice trail off. Just now, it didn’t matter how it had been done. What mattered was how they were going to get around it?

  “What can we do?” she asked.

  “What can anyone do? It’s the government. It’s what happens when we allow more and more of our liberties to be confiscated in the name of public well-being.”

  “No. I mean, what can we do right now? We need to hide, but yet we have to find out what’s behind all this.”

  “Oh. Well, I have the solution for the telephone problem. That’s no problem at all. But we do need to hold up for awhile. In fact, we need to get completely out of town, and that message Scott left you has intrigued me.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The remark about the first of May. If that’s the day your parents are returning to Colorado, then it seems to me that Scott wanted to indicate their home in Black Forest. How about we visit your parents’ house?”

  “Are you serious? They’d obviously be looking for me to contact them. You said so yourself.”

  “What I said was that they’d have the capability to monitor all the calls over your parents’ lines. I don’t think they’ll actually put a watch on their house unless they lose track of you.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “That’s all right. It’s not an obvious ploy. That’s why it should work.”

  “Why what’ll work?”

  “All in good time.”

  They were approaching the eastern shore of the Mid-Bay Bridge. They kept moving east for awhile, then turned north toward Oakland.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” Caitlin finally asked.

  “Nothing in particular, but I need to pull off and get something out of the trunk.”

  “What is it?”

  “Patience, patience Caitlin. You’ll be more impressed if I show you rather than just blurting it out. Didn’t you ever hear the expression of showing rather than telling?”

  “Huh? No, I don’t think I have.”

  “Creative writing 101. An old college lecture. Never give away too much by simply telling, you have to show the reader what’s going on.”

  “John, have you ever had a nervous breakdown?”

  “No,” he answered with a shake of his head.

  “Well, I am just about to have my first!” Caitlin said, adding emphasis and strength to each word.

  John turned to face her and grinned. “All right. Just keep your pants on.”

  He turned off at the next exit and pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot at the first intersection. He parked, got out, and went to the rear of the car. In a minute, he returned with a small plastic toolbox.

  “What’s in there?” Caitlin asked.

  “Tools of the trade.”

  He set the box on the console and opened it. There was a complete set of miniature tools and a few electronic chips. John selected one of the screwdrivers, took out his cell phone, and in another minute had the back off. He then took what Caitlin recognized as a chip extraction tool and deftly pulled a square chip from the phone. He set it aside, took a similar chip from inside the toolbox, and placed it in the vacant slot.

  Caitlin watched as he replaced the back.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

  “That depends. Do you think it’s the encoding chip?”

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, you’d be right,” he said.

  “Is it stolen?”

  His expression was one of feigned pain. “Do I look like a thief?”

  “Last week I would’ve said no, now I think you’re capable of just about anything.”

  John grinned broadly. “Good answer. In answer to your question, no. It isn’t stolen. However, its code was lifted from its legitimate owner.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  “You are noisy aren’t you?”

  Before she could answer, he continued. “I didn’t lift it. I purchased the code from some people who do that sort of thing. They move around but spend a lot of time in apartments that overlook the Bay Bridge. People are always using their cell phones on the bridge. They use a scanner and decoder to pick up the chip codes from passing motorist. Then they transfer the codes to new chips and sell them on the black market.”

  “I thought the FCC and FBI had shut down that type of operation. Didn’t I see that the phone chips are hardware encoded now so that only the original chip can use a particular number?”

  “My, you do keep up, don’t you? The new phones do have hardware-encoded chips. But they currently only make up about sixty percent of the market. This scam will work for a couple more years.”

  “How do you know the chips still good? What if the original owner has already noticed the increased usage and reported it?”

  “Good point. I’m glad to see you’re thinking. I paid top dollar for this chip. My supplier assures me it’s virgin.”

  “And you trust him?”

  John laughed. It was the first time she had heard him laugh since the canyon. It was the strong laugh of a man comfortable with showing his amusement.

  “No, Caitlin. I don’t trust him.”

  “Then?”

  “I tapped the phone records for this chip and keep a check on it. So far it hasn’t had abnormally high bills.”

  “Devious aren’t you?” she asked.

  “I try.”

  “Now, are you going to tell me your plans?”

  “All in good time.”

  John flicked on the phone and punched in a series of numbers.

  Caitlin waited. She was trying to remember what it was she had liked about him before. He’d seemed more open before, more likable.

  “Squeeze? It’s John ... Yeah, long time. Look, I have a job for you. Can we meet? ... Yeah, I remember the place. Thirty minutes? ... Fine, see you.”

  John lowered the phone and turned it off.

  “Did I hear you right? Did you call him Squeeze?” Caitlin asked.

  “Her,” John answered.

  “Oh.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time. You want a biscuit and some coffee?”

  “Ah, yeah, that’ll be fine.” John cranked the car and pulled into the drive-through lane. They got a couple of steak biscuits and large coffees and in a few minutes were back on the freeway heading north.

  “Care to tell me where we’re going?”

  “Oakland.”

  “What are we going to do there?”

  “Among other things, we’re going to stash this car and borrow another one. Then we’re leaving town.”

  In less than twenty minutes, they pulled into the lot of a small Mexican restaurant in downtown Oakland. John parked the car in the very back of the lot, out of sight of the street.

  They walked to the corner of the building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Miguel’s was a small restaurant, not much more than a hole in the wall. A neon light advertising Corona and another for Dos Eques lit one wall. The other wall was a vivid mural of a mariachi band at a garden wedding.

  “It’s kind of early for lunch isn’t it?” Caitlin asked.

  “Depends on what time you got up, but yes it is early.”

  The
re wasn’t much of a crowd, a couple of people sat near the window, and there was someone else along the back wall. John waved at the waiter and then led Caitlin toward the back.

  As they approached the lone figure, the woman stood. She was a short, middle-aged woman of dark skin and kinky black hair. Her dress was a dark fabric; Caitlin guessed cotton, with multi-colored flowers. It was the size of a small army tent.

  Squeeze stood and met John with open arms. Her head came to the center of his chest as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. John returned her hug with enthusiasm as Squeeze began to laugh.

  They separated, and John raised a hand toward Caitlin.

  “Caitlin, let me introduce Lori Turnis. Lori, this is an old friend, Caitlin Maxwell.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lori,” Caitlin said extending her hand.

  The older woman ignored her hand; she stepped close and gave Caitlin a brief crushing hug without patting her on the back. When Lori stepped back, Caitlin involuntarily inhaled audibly.

  “Sakes child, any friend of John’s, is a friend o’mine. Come, sit. Tell me what you been up to, John.”

  “Mostly no good, Squeeze. Have you heard from Ronnie?”

  “Sure have. He was hoping to come home for Christmas, but his outfit is back over there. Don’t know why we have to play policeman to all these countries. Our boys oughta be home for Christmas.”

  They joined Squeeze at her table.

  “Ronnie and I were in the Marines together,” John said.

  “Yeah, but he didn’t get out. I don’t know why he stays in. It’s not as if his father doesn’t try to talk him into leaving. You’d think he’d listen to his father.”

  “Yeah, like he’s such a good example,” John said, amusement in his voice.

  “It wasn’t the same when Bill was in. Things were better. Besides, the Navy ain’t the Marines.”

  “Right.” John laughed and in a moment, Squeeze joined him.

  “Look Squeeze, I’m sorry to be short, but we’re in a hurry today. Caitlin’s in a lot of trouble, and I need to get her out of town for awhile.”

  Squeeze gave Caitlin a good long look. “Do tell?”

  “Yes. I need you to set up a smoke screen for her.”

  “I see. You want the standard treatment?”

  “No, I’m afraid we’ll need the luxury accommodations this time,” John said.

  She observed Caitlin with a new awareness. “My, word. You are in trouble, Child.”

  “All right, John. Do you have a recent picture?”

  “No, there hasn’t been time for that.”

  “That’s all right. I brought a camera. It seems like you don’t ever come prepared.”

  While Squeeze dipped into an enormous purse, John gave Caitlin a sideways smile.

  Squeeze removed a digital camera from the purse and powered it up. “Give me a big smile, Child.”

  Caitlin smiled widely. The camera flashed and made a soft hum.

  “Would someone mind telling me what this is all about?”

  “John, you been keeping this poor young thing in the dark? What have I told you about your manners? I told you that you weren’t getting enough home cookin’. You can’t be expected to know what the proper manners are without proper eating.”

  “It’s not like that, Squeeze. There hasn’t been time.”

  “Humph, yeah right, didn’t I ask you on the way here?” Caitlin argued.

  John laughed lightly. “Squeeze will explain much better than I.”

  “Sure thing, Child. John never was much of a talker. Look, what I’m going to do is simple. Occasionally, John has a client that needs to disappear for a few days, and I provide the cover, the smoke screen.”

  In mid-sentence, Squeeze’s voice went from a heavy Southern accent to a more sophisticated, Californian tone. “Sometimes, the smoke screen is simple. I check John’s client into a hotel, make a few calls from the room, order room service, and even buy them tickets to a concert or some such event. Everything goes on the client’s credit card. It gives the appearance that the client is in town and moving around. Meanwhile, John, and his client are free to slip out for whatever it is they need to do.”

  “Oh, I see, and you do this often?” Caitlin asked.

  “No, not often, at least not for John. I do have other customers, though.”

  “And this is what you’re going to do for me?”

  Squeeze laughed, and for just a moment, her accent returned. “Lands sakes, Child. John said you need the luxury accommodations. No, we’re going to have to do something special for you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I don’t like to give away secrets, but seeing that you’re an old friend of John’s, I guess I can make an exception. I’ll take this photo.” She indicated the camera that now showed a full-color view of Caitlin. “Then I’ll hire a part-timer and fix them up like you. Hairstyle, body type, dress, you know what I mean. Then anyone being shown a picture of you and asked to identify it would say that was who they saw. Next, your doppelganger will check into a local motel, nothing flashy, just something simple. She’ll use a fake name, but then she’ll make a long distance call on your card. That’s sure to bring attention, but the call will be brief, and your doppelganger will be gone before anyone can arrive. For the next week or until John tells me the service is no longer needed, you will be seen around town several times a day. Waiters will remember you tipping nicely, bartenders will remember what you ordered and how you were dressed. To anyone looking for you, it will seem that they are hot on your trail.”

  Caitlin sat back and stared at the older woman. “I, I don’t know what to say. It’s amazing. This actually works?”

  “Child, I could have given O.J. an iron tight alibi for less effort, but then he apparently didn’t need one.”

  “We’ll need the paraphernalia,” Squeeze said.

  “The what?” Caitlin asked.

  “Your credit cards, pin numbers, e-mail account, and password. You know, everything that could be used by you and only you.”

  Caitlin looked at John. He nodded. “Go ahead; it’s the only way they be able to pull this off.”

  “But, then I won’t have anything. I–”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick up the tab for everything until this is over. It’ll all be on my bill.”

  “John, you’re charging an old friend?”

  He shrugged. “It’s business, Squeeze.”

  “All right, but as soon as this is over, I’ll be expecting you for dinner. We’re going to have to feed you proper for awhile.”

  Caitlin removed her credit cards from her purse and then wrote their pin numbers along with her e-mail account and password on a napkin and passed the lot to Squeeze.

  The older woman put them inside her own purse. She stood. “I guess I’d better get started. You children be careful now. John, I’ll see you later.”

  He stood and gave her a brief hug. “Sure thing, Squeeze. You be careful, too, these aren’t nice people we’re hiding from, and I think they have big ears and very long arms.”

  “You just let ol’ Squeeze worry about herself, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Nice meeting you, Caitlin. You trust John here, and he’ll take care of you.”

  “Thank you, Lori.”

  “Sakes child, if you’re a friend of John you can call me Squeeze.”

  “All right, Squeeze.”

  John sat back down after Squeeze left by the front door.

  “Interesting woman,” Caitlin said.

  “Yes and nice too. Let me have your computer.”

  Caitlin opened her purse and took out her notebook computer. She opened it on and slid it to John.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m making reservations for a flight from Oakland to Colorado Springs.”

  “How are you going to arrange it? I thought they’d be on to you too.”

  “I’m sure they are. I ma
y have tripped a flag when I registered our contract, or they may have gotten my plates last night.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I keep a few aliases set up in the computer files. You know how credit card companies will open accounts for bad risks or people with no credit by letting them deposit money into an account as collateral.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s similar. I’ve opened a couple of accounts under different names by depositing money. The bills go to a couple of mail drops around town so that there’s no common address.”

  “What do you do about the social security numbers?”

  “Trash.”

  “Trash? What do you mean?”

  “I went through a few apartment complex’s trash a couple years ago and got enough social security numbers to last me. I just draw on one of those when I need another one. By not touching them until I have to, there’s no record of my having acquired them.”

  “Fascinating. Then you do stuff like this all the time?”

  “All the time? Hardly, but it has come in useful on occasion.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  John logged into the West Pac Airlines reservation page and then did a quick search for flights from Oakland to Colorado Springs. There were several direct flights, the last one late in the afternoon. He reserved two seats in first class, then took a small notepad from his jacket pocket and flipped through a few pages.

  “Here we go. Robert and Charlotte Owens.” He typed in the credit card number, and a moment later, the confirmation number appeared.

  “But how are we going to get the tickets? They check photo IDs at the ticket counters now.”

  “I know Caitlin, I have it covered. That’s why I took a later flight, that and to give Squeeze a chance to have you make an appearance in the city.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have another memory stick?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  She fished in her purse for a couple seconds and then her hand emerged with another thumb drive.

  John plugged it in and downloaded some information onto it. Then he removed the stick, put it in his jacket pocket, logged off the Web, and closed her computer.

  “Let’s go. We have a few stops to make,” he said and handed her the computer.

  Caitlin returned the computer to her bag and stood.