Project Northwest

by C. B. Carter

  “Yes, sorry, just something on my mind. You ready to get started?”

  Playing nice was going to be a lot easier, so he chatted her up and soon they were moving through the questions at a decent pace.

  “What’s your take on what the numbers are for?” he asked. “I mean, do you know why they want the numbers?”

  “I have my suspicions, but it’s not something we should be discussing. I’d suggest we do as instructed and not worry about such things.”

  “Your suspicion isn’t going to change anything?” James asked.

  “Mr. Spain, you do recall we’re being monitored, right? I can tell you’re in a good mood this morning, so I’ll suggest we focus on the task.”

  “Oh, yeah, okay. Sorry, believe it or not, I had forgotten,” he said honestly.

  Shelly shook her head in a slow back and forth movement. James wasn’t sure if she was chastising him or warning him, he decided to consider it both and went back to the numbers.

  Not more than ten minutes later, James’s office number rang.

  “James Spain,” he answered.

  “Mr. Spain, Mr. Wright here, it appears we need to have another meeting. Please let me speak with Miss Spenser.”

  James motioned to Shelly and she took the handset.

  “Yes, I understand,” she said to the first question.

  “We will,” to the second question.

  “I will,” to the third question and she handed James the handset. “Well, I hope you’re happy. We’re meeting him up on the patio at eleven sharp.”

  * * * *

  Mr. Wright was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie, just as before, but this time he added a dark brown spring Sutter hat to his wardrobe. James knew why. There were cameras everywhere, and that’s the exact same reason why Mr. Wright selected a table in the corner of the patio with cover given by a patio umbrella.

  Mr. Wright stood slightly and tilted the brim of his hat when he saw them approaching. “Mr. Spain, Miss Spenser, thank you for joining me. James, I’m disappointed in you. You know my resolve, or at least I thought I had made it clear. Miss Spenser, please hand the envelope to Mr. Spain. Mr. Spain, do not open it just yet. I understand you have some questions?”

  Shelly looked at Mr. Wright with an intensity of repulsion that could not be faked, she despised him and it was obvious. Her mannerisms solidified in James’s mind that she had been truthful about being blackmailed.

  “I—I had honestly forgotten about the ah—ah monitoring,” stammered James. “Shelly and I are working together better now and it just came out. I have no interest in knowing why. I’m more than willing to just get this behind me.”

  James closely examined Mr. Wright, looking for any distinguishable marks or tics. He had no tattoos that were visible, no jewelry or scars. His eyes were green, hair was black, was about 5 foot 11 inches and, James guessed, he weighed about 180 pounds. They were being blackmailed by an average, non-descript businessman. You’d see him everywhere in Seattle and immediately forget him. There was simply nothing unique about Mr. Wright, save the military style haircut.

  Mr. Wright eyeballed James and after some deliberation, said, “You know, I believe you, Mr. Spain, so I’m going to give you a warning. When you open the envelope, you’re going to see something quite disturbing, especially when one considers the new direction your relationship with Ms. Davies has taken. Please view its contents. Any outburst and I will leave and start a process that cannot be stopped. Miss Spenser and I will give you some privacy.”

  Privacy apparently had a loose meaning to Mr. Wright, as the only thing he did was thumb through a magazine he’d brought with him. “Miss Spenser, this is an opportune time for you to powder your nose, don’t you think? Give us about five minutes, please.”

  Shelly said, “I’m sorry, James,” and excused herself.

  James unclasped the brown envelope and pulled out the first 5 by 7 inch picture. It wasn’t anything to be worried about. It was just him and Shelly eating lunch.

  He had the sensation of melting when he saw the second photo. The entire world seemed to stop and he couldn’t move. In his left hand he held the harmless picture and on the table, as if he were afraid to touch it, was the doctored photo of him and Shelly having a romantic dinner.

  He managed to look through all seven sets of pictures, with each set enforcing his mind’s image of Bridget stepping closer and closer to the door with her bags packed. He hurriedly placed them back into the envelope when Shelly returned, as if he were ashamed, momentarily forgetting she’d already seen them.

  “Mr. Spain, I trust you found the contents, what’s the best word, unnerving?” asked Mr. Wright as he once again welcomed Miss Spenser with a half stand and a hat tilt.

  “Yes, please don’t send them. It would kill Bridget.”

  “Mr. Spain, my interest here is control, not destruction. My movers are, as we speak, moving the last of her boxes into your condominium. They have, within a moment’s reach, the same set of pictures you are holding. We both know the damage those would cause.”

  Mr. Wright shook his head in feigned disappointment as he looked at James, then at Shelly.

  Shelly couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. She picked a spot on the patio table and stared at it, not moving, not saying anything.

  “Believe it or not, I want to leave you two and your families’ whole. Miss Spenser, you are doing fine work for us and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Moving forward, I understand there is a trip planned this weekend, Mr. Spain. That is fine. Just make sure we are in sight of you at all times. Do not try to lose us or your loss will be much worse. I’m certain you get my drift. The same, of course, goes for you, Miss Spenser, on your trip.”

  James and Shelly both nodded that they understood.

  “Furthermore, Ms. Davies cannot attend college. There’s just too much going on for us to watch it all. She will find out on Monday that she has been mistakenly de-registered from her classes, a simple computer glitch of some sort. Your job will be to make sure she accepts it and agrees to put off school until the summer or fall semester. I don’t know how you will convince her – that will be your task. Do you have a pen and paper?”

  “No.”

  “You, Miss Spenser?”

  Shelly dug into her purse and found a small notepad and pen and started to give the items to Mr. Wright when he corrected her. “Please give them to Mr. Spain.”

  James took the notepad and pen and waited.

  “Mr. Spain, you’ve been dating Bridget for a while now, so I’m only going to ask this once. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Think so or know so?”

  “Yes, you’re clear.”

  “Good, write down all the passwords you know Ms. Davies has used in the past.”

  James hesitated. What a betrayal of trust, he thought, and the shame was – he was going to do it.

  “Don’t lie or send my team on a wild goose chase, we’re only going to use the passwords to enter into her college account, nothing more. We’ll gain access anyway, but this will speed up the process by narrowing our keystroke search. It’s just that some of these systems send out emails warning of bad password attempts. We can delete the emails before she sees them, but why go through the trouble?”

  James began writing the only two passwords he knew of. He had never really asked her. He just saw them on notes near the computer.

  Seagal29

  Cubswin29

  “I’m not even sure they’re passwords. I’ve seen them written on pieces of paper near the computer.”

  “It’s fine. ‘Sea’ as in Seattle or ‘Sea’ as in boat or water?”

  “Uhm, Seattle.”

  Wright took the note and tucked it into his coat pocket. “I’ll take the pictures now, Mr. Spain.”

  “Can I say something?” James questioned as he handed the pictures over.

  “Don’t see any harm, what’s on your mind?”

  “Of
f the record and in private.”

  Mr. Wright considered the request and suggested Miss Spenser make her way back to the office or grab a quick lunch. When she left, he asked Cricket to send over an associate and to stop his and James’s recordings.

  “Please stand up, James.” James stood and an associate patted down James’ arms and chest, finishing with a wand examination over his back, torso, and legs. The associate took James’s cell phone and disappeared.

  Mr. Wright seemed to relax as he removed the nearly invisible ear piece from his ear and tucked the cord under his collar. His mannerism changed and he no longer spoke in the strict fashion James was used to, “Okay, just two regular guys now, James. What’s on your mind?”

  James was having second thoughts. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” It was obvious that Mr. Wright was in control and he didn’t know what would set him off.

  “I’m sure it isn’t. Time is money, James.”

  James just started talking, hoping his mental filter was correct. “The car CD player, your goons messed it up and it will not eject. Bridget will want to listen to other music on the trip.”

  “I’m sure Bridget will do just fine. She seems to have a knack for entertaining herself in the car. God knows she’s entertained my team. Plus, whether you know it or not, you two will be talking about the Mustang and the future. The CD player stays as is. And this, a CD player, isn’t what’s on your mind, James. That was your teaser question, am I correct? I’m an impatient man. Let’s get to it, shall we?”

  James swallowed hard, trying to push through his apprehension. “Okay, as you said before, you’re not here for destruction. I know you need me for whatever it is you’re doing with the numbers. You’ve already told me you’re using them to steal from the bank. I suspect you’re shorting the stock or worse yet, preparing for a run on the bank.”

  Mr. Wright’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

  James continued, “My point is that I’m not as easy to replace as you’d want me to believe I am. I’m willing to work with you, but I want you to back off a bit and I want a quit date. I want to know when this will be over. I want a guarantee. I want my life back.”

  James couldn’t suck in air fast enough. He wasn’t really sure what he’d just said and was already regretting each and every word.

  Mr. Wright responded without hesitation. His sentences were cold and calculated. “I don’t go into rabbit holes, James. Most times you don’t find a rabbit in them; you find what’s waiting for the rabbit. I’d strongly suggest you heed my advice.”

  Mr. Wright inclined in his chair, tipped his hat to two young ladies walking by, and offered them a smile. “If you think for a moment that you have some pull with me, you’re mistaken. In the last week, you’ve been beaten up, have had your car wrecked, just viewed pictures that would certainly ruin your relationship, have committed a number of federal crimes, and that was just to get your attention. How far do you think I’d go if my intentions were to become personal or worse yet, spiteful? My spiteful nature can in some ways be much worse than my homicidal nature.”

  James couldn’t answer. He could only watch as Mr. Wright rolled his fingers across the envelope, each sequence played imaginary drums of impending doom. Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat – thump!

  Mr. Wright continued. His words were decisive and delivered with the sharpness of a man in control. “You want a guarantee, James? I suggest you focus and only focus on the task at hand. That’s the only guarantee you’ll make it out of this unscathed. Forget trying to shadowbox with me. You’ll lose. This is strike three James and I will not tolerate any additional insolence. You will do what I want you to do or I will do what I have to do. I hope, for the final time, I’m clear. Do you know what hope is, James?”

  James could only shake his head. He didn’t have a clue what hope was.

  Mr. Wright opened his coat just enough to show James the handle of a pistol settled snugly in its shoulder holster. He tapped it for effect. “This is Hope. She’s a source of divine inspiration with an inferno from hell in her belly. Many have found God when she appears, most have gone to hell. I hope she’s getting through that thick skull of yours. I hope she doesn’t have to kill a man today. I hope you don’t fuck with me or her. I’m not in the habit of making mistakes and when I do, I don’t solve them, she gets rid of them.”

  Mr. Wright closed his coat, checked to make sure ‘Hope’ was hidden, and continued, “Here’s the deal. I’m not afraid of death, Mr. Spain. I’ve seen death all my adult life, but I know you are afraid – excuse the pun – deathly afraid. The fear is irrational, you know? We’re all going to die and if you’re lucky, you won’t know when, but I will make sure you know when. Hope doesn’t hide in the shadows. I understand your fear. You have a lot to lose. Nice condo, beautiful girlfriend, good job. You’re young enough to rebound – I couldn’t do it, too old and I just don’t care. So I’m not afraid of death, I embrace it. I’m death’s caretaker.”

  He leaned in and hissed, “My not being afraid of death should be of grave concern to you.”

  James was thoroughly mortified. “My apologies, I regret even suggesting it now.”

  “No need to apologize, James. It was an honest question and I gave an honest answer. The safest place for you in this city is in your office doing what I’ve asked you to do. You do that and you, Ms. Davies, and Miss Spenser will be just fine. But if you cross me once more – well, Hope’s one flaw is she’s quick and merciful. I will make sure Hope takes out Ms. Davies first and I will make sure you see it before she turns her vengeance upon you.”

  Mr. Wright stood. “One final thought--don’t make any new friends.”

  Mr. Wright made a hand motion and the associate returned with the cell phone and stood guard.

  “Cricket, turn on the devices and start recording, thank you.”

  “Mr. Spain, thanks for the meeting. I do apologize for you having missed lunch, but there is important work to be done, shall we?” He stood, took James’s arm at the elbow, and gestured that James should make his way to the elevator bank.

  James’s knees were weak, his legs the consistency of Jell-O, but he managed to walk to the elevator bank and looked over his shoulder. Both Mr. Wright and his associate were gone. While waiting for the elevator to arrive, he looked over the entire patio area and didn’t see any trace of them. They had vanished in a matter of seconds.

  He tossed his cell phone into the back of the employee locker, went through security, and found Shelly sitting in the office.

  “I didn’t know they were taking pictures. I had no idea until I got the package late last night.” She sat back into her chair, her body drooping with exhaustion and guilt, “So is everything okay, are we still moving forward?”

  “Yes, we are. It doesn’t matter, it’s done, let’s just get him the numbers he wants. What do they have over you, Shelly?” James asked, as he logged back into the bank system and was announcing numbers, secretly hoping they choked on them.

  “My nine-year-old daughter,” she said in a heartbreaking whisper. “They said they would hurt her, said Hope had her eye on her—I don’t even know what that means. She’s only in fourth grade, James.”

  James could only nod his head, “Well, let’s make sure nothing happens to her.”

  * * * *

  Mr. Wright and his associate waited until James had taken the elevator. “Cricket, are we still on for mark number four?”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. DuVall confirmed he will meet you in Belltown at nine on the dot to complete the exchange.”

  “Thank you.”

  Wright looked at the associate. “Looks like Hope has some unfinished business, time to send another gluttonous soul to hell. Let’s make our way to Belltown and survey the area for our late night rendezvous.”

  Mr. Wright entered the condo a little after 5:00 P.M. Cricket, at first, was nowhere to be found, then he heard someone messing around in the restroom off the main hallway.

 
“That had better be you in there, Cricket.”

  “Yeah, it is. Will be right out. The GMC tailed Ms. Davies to work and the guys are returning the van, not much going on, so I thought I’d answer nature’s call.”

  Mr. Wright passed the couch and stood in front of the array of computer monitors sitting on the surveillance table. The setup was impressive, with each monitor showing visual gauges of server processor speeds, data transfer speeds and other data he didn’t understand. The monitor to the right obviously held the alarm software and the pop up notices showed several alarms.

  “Were you still recording when I asked you to stop earlier? When I was speaking with Spain?”

  “Of course. I’m sure he was scared shitless. The stuff about Hope was classic,” responded Cricket as he exited the restroom.

  “Good man, what are all these alarms?” Mr. Wright asked pointing at the third monitor.

  “Let’s see,” said Cricket, as he settled into his chair and rolled up to the desk. “Those are intrusion alarms, those are motion alarms, and the three there in the corner are digital packet signatures.”

  “Where are there intrusion alarms? You mean like into the room or something?”

  “They’re nothing to be concerned about. Our wi–fi system and firewalls are impenetrable. I built the system and not even I could punch through. There are just too many hoops to jump through and the wireless laptops only sync when they are in a specific GPS range. Of course, they have to have a dongle in the USB port.”

  “A dongle, are you messing with me?”

  “No, it’s an actual security device, more along the lines of physical security. So the alarms are nothing. I just like to see all intrusion attempts and check the mapping to see if anything looks suspicious.” Cricket maximized a program from the task bar. It showed all connected sessions.

  “What’s that?” Mr. Wright asked pointing at a flashing icon labeled ‘data center.’

  “Our storage server, it’s in a collocation data center down the street.”