by Haris Orkin
Her kidnapper dragged her down the corridor and knocked on the door to room 3015. A moment later it opened to reveal the concerned face of Severina Angelli. “Are you all right?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’ve been through some trauma.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“You’re angry.”
“No shit.”
“You have to understand that Mr. Flynn is not in his right mind.”
“And your boss is?”
Severina motioned Wendy into the room and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Wendy sat and Severina perched herself on the edge of the queen-sized bed.
“Mr. Belenki has no intention of detonating a nuclear device in outer space or anywhere else.”
“The evidence says otherwise.” Wendy narrowed her eyes.
“Do you really think Space Go operates without any oversight? NASA has to approve everything we do. You don’t think they’d know if we were launching nuclear weapons into space? I’m beginning to think you’re as delusional as Mr. Flynn.”
“Are you trying to gaslight me?”
“I’m trying to get you to see reason. You can’t keep spreading this misinformation. Space Go has a launch on Saturday at Cape Canaveral. We postpone it and it will cost this company millions.”
“What are you launching?”
“A communications satellite.”
“How do you know?”
“Look, I’m finished trying to convince you of anything. Persist in pushing this lie and I’ll have no choice but to bring in the FBI. You’ll be charged with industrial espionage under the computer fraud and abuse act. The truth is you could be looking at twenty years.”
“In prison?”
“You think this is a game? I’m trying to help you out here, but I’m about done. Men died trying to save you. You either take this deal or we will hold you here for the FBI. It’s up to you, Wendy.”
“And if I agree to keep my mouth shut about Operation New Dawn?”
“There is no Operation New Dawn. It doesn’t exist. All you have to do is stop spreading these lies. Do you think you can do that?”
“If I say yes, can I leave?”
“If you say yes, Mark will drive you back to Santa Clarita. You’ll be at your mom’s house by 3:00. You’ll no longer be an employee of our company, but we will be glad to give you a reference if you need it.”
“And that’s it? That’s all I have to do?”
“That and sign some paperwork affirming that you’ll stop spreading these rumors. Of course, if you do anything to violate this agreement, then all bets are off and you will spend the next twenty years in a supermax.” Severina stood and moved for the door. “This room is yours. Feel free to order room service. If you need anything else, call the front desk.”
Severina left. Wendy went to the door, locked the deadbolt and slid over the swing bar lock. She sat on the bed, fell straight back and let herself sink into the mattress. She was fucking exhausted. She couldn’t believe she was surrendering, but then Severina did what all good lawyers do. She introduced doubt.
Wendy now doubted what she once believed to be true. Is it possible she could have been so wrong? The evidence seemed clear cut, but in hindsight maybe she let her imagination get the better of her. Severina’s explanation that it was just a fictional apocalyptic scenario did make sense. It made more sense than a billionaire wanting to end the world to kill a self-aware AI. Suddenly, she felt like an idiot. The hot white heat of embarrassment made her blush. Could she really have been that foolish? Tears filled her eyes.
She looked around the room at the homogenous corporate motel décor. The neutral colors. The generic art. Being there reminded her of another time and another place. It was her twelfth birthday and she was on a trip with her parents.
They stayed at some anonymous Best Western near Sea World in San Diego. For the first time ever, she had her own motel room. It was the end of a long day of laughing at penguins and petting stingrays and marveling at the antics of Shamu, the killer whale. She celebrated her birthday dinner at TGI Friday’s and now it was late, and she was alone in her room.
She was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep because her parents were arguing in the adjoining suite. They screamed at each other and all that explosive anger filled her with anxiety. That sense of raw fear created a feeling of impending doom. They would argue back at home, but never like this. They screamed so loud she couldn’t help but hear every word. Her mother claimed she knew for a fact that her father was fucking Mrs. Fleck. That was the exact word she used.
Mrs. Fleck was the next-door neighbor lady and she was divorced. Mr. Fleck left his wife the year before and Wendy’s father was always going over to help Mrs. Fleck with projects around the house; unclogging sinks and changing lightbulbs and fixing broken sprinkler heads. Mrs. Fleck and her mom used to be good friends, but now she was calling Mrs. Fleck a slut and a bitch and a whore. Words Wendy never heard her mother use before. She was sure her parents were going to get a divorce and that felt like the end of the world.
The sense of impending doom she internalized at twelve mirrored the dread that overwhelmed her when she first read the Project New Dawn documents. Her entire world would be gone and there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening. It was all out of her control.
Her parents divorced a year later and after that she never felt safe. Never felt she could trust anyone not to abandon her. Except for maybe her mother, who clung to Wendy with a smothering sense of fear and desperation. She was her mother’s everything and because of that, she controlled every aspect of Wendy’s life. When Wendy discovered Project New Dawn she decided that this time she didn’t have to be helpless. She decided she could do something. She decided she had to do something.
But that was before Severina convinced her she was crazy.
But was she? Really? What if she wasn’t? What if Operation New Dawn was, in fact, real? She wondered if Flynn was dead. Was he killed in that raid when they kidnapped her? Or did he manage to make it out of there alive? What if he still had that burner phone he stole off that bum?
Wendy had a near photographic memory, especially for numbers, and she remembered Flynn’s phone number. How would Severina know if she contacted Flynn? She wouldn’t. And if Wendy told him the day and time and location of the launch, he might do something to try and stop it. If he did try and there was no nuke, then no harm no foul. Flynn would go back to the mental hospital either way. But if there was a nuke and Flynn could stop the launch, then Wendy could save the world. She picked up the motel room phone and dialed his number.
Flynn wasn’t afraid as he stared into the barrel of Mendoza’s Colt Python. He knew death would come for him one day and if this was the day, so be it. He’d danced with death many times, but always managed to elude its grasp. He could tell Mendoza desperately wanted to pull the trigger, but if he did Goolardo would kill him. He might kill him anyway. Flynn never felt more alive than when he faced death. Every nerve ending tingled with sensory pleasure.
“Some believe that before the Battle of Little Big Horn, Crazy Horse exhorted his warriors with the words, it is a good day to die. But experts in Native American history believe that he said something quite different. He used the common Sioux Battle Cry. Nake nula waun! Do you know what that means?” Flynn asked.
“Why the hell would I know what that means?” Mendoza shouted.
“It means, I am ready for whatever comes! And I am. The question is…are you?”
“Don’t let him make a fool out of you again. He is a liar and lunatic and you know it as well as I do,” Mendoza said.
Flynn watched Goolardo consider Mendoza’s words. His mouth went tight with anger and he turned his gun on Flynn. Now both of them pointed their weapons at him. Flynn’s burner phone rang; a high-pitched trill emanating from Mendoza’s pants pocket.
“Do you want to answer that?” Goolardo said.
“It’s not mine,” Mendoza replied.
“I believe that’s my phone,” Flynn said.
“Answer it, and put it on speaker.”
With his pistol still pointed at Flynn, Mendoza pulled the ringing cell from his pocket. He answered and a woman’s voice emerged from the burner.
“James?”
“Wendy? Is that you?” Flynn was delighted.
“Where are you?”
Flynn took a few steps closer to the phone. Mendoza’s finger tensed on the trigger. “Near Agua Dulce I believe. Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Listen, I know when and where the launch will be. Cape Canaveral. The day after tomorrow!”
“And what launch would that be?”
“Don’t play games with me, James! He’s sending up that last nuke. If we don’t stop him, you know what will happen!”
“What will happen?” asked Goolardo.
There was a pause before Wendy replied, “Who am I talking to?”
“My name is Francisco Goolardo and I have gun to Mr. Flynn’s head. I promise you I will pull the trigger if you don’t tell me everything I want to know.”
“Why do you have a gun to his head?”
“Because he’s a fucking lunatic!” Mendoza bellowed.
Goolardo shushed Mendoza. “Tell me what will happen, Wendy.”
Wendy hesitated to say another word and Flynn prodded her. “Talk to him, Wendy. Tell him what you told me.”
Wendy told Goolardo everything she knew about Project New Dawn and by the end of her explanation, Goolardo stepped over to Mendoza and pulled the Colt Python out of his hand.
Mendoza did not resist. He let the weapon go. He was angry as hell though. “I can’t believe you believe this pendejo!”
“I believe him because I believe her. First, we will save the world. Then Mr. Flynn will have to pay for his perfidy,” Goolardo said.
Wendy screamed over the burner phone. “No! Get away from me! Get away from me!” Flynn and the others heard a violent struggle on the other end. “Give me that! Get off me! Let me—”
The line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Humans occupied Cabo Cañaveral for ten thousand years before Juan Ponce De Leon claimed it for Spain in 1513. There is a longstanding myth that he searched for the Fountain of Youth, but no historical proof. His contract with King Ferdinand of Spain mentioned no such fountain, though there were specific instructions for the subjugation of the native people and the divvying up of any possible gold that might be found.
Cape Canaveral remained a stretch of barren, sandy scrubland until after World War II when the military decided to use the site for missile testing. After NASA was formed, the cape became its center of operations and the first manned space flight was launched in 1961. It extends thirty-four miles, and is ten miles wide, spanning the Banana River and covering most of Merritt Island. Known informally as the Space Coast, it’s area code is 321, an homage to the countdown sequence that has sent countless space vehicles into the heavens.
Bringing Anika was a serious mistake. Belenki needed to concentrate on the task at hand and she was a distraction. Not just to him, but to everyone on his yacht. She traipsed around in a tiny bikini, half in the bag from champagne, flirting with the crew, sunning topless on the upper deck by the infinity pool. Belenki didn’t intend to bring her, but when she heard he was flying to Florida, she insisted.
She loved Miami, especially the dance clubs in South Beach, and that was where she wanted to be, not on a yacht off the coast of Cape Canaveral. Even though he explained to her, multiple times, that he was only there to supervise the launch, she thought she could convince him otherwise. The Argo was massive. Between the gym, the jacuzzi and infinity pool, Belenki hoped Anika would have enough space and enough to do to keep herself occupied while he directed his crew.
After breakfast, Belenki headed for the conference room where most of his launch and ground support team already assembled. They needed to talk final preparations.
“Welcome team! Tomorrow’s the big day! We’ve had seventeen consecutive successful launches and that is entirely due to the people in this room. I appreciate all your hard work and careful preparations, but we can’t afford to be overconfident or complaisant. The eyes of the world are on us and—”
Belenki noticed as, one by one, the eyes of his crew drifted to a focal point just behind him. Anika. She wore her white micro bikini. The effect on the men in the room was powerful and immediate. These were engineers and scientists. Many were shy and nerdy; uncomfortable around women. They weren’t used to being in the presence of a supermodel/movie star, so Anika’s beauty and voluptuous body put an end to most if not all of their rational thought processes.
Belenki turned to Anika and smiled at her. “Darling, can we speak later? As you can see, I’m in a meeting.”
“I’m bored,” she said.
“Yes, you said as much at breakfast.”
“I want to go to Miami.”
“I know you do, but the launch is tomorrow and—”
“And I’m sure all these extremely smart people can handle that without your help. That’s why you hired them, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I have a responsibility.”
“Yes, you do. You asked me to marry you and I said yes. You promised to make me happy and now you need to honor that commitment.”
“Darling—”
“I want to go to South Beach. I want to go to Basement and Story. I want to dance! I want to party!”
“And we will.”
“When?”
“Soon. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Anika said. “And what the hell’s wrong with the Wi-Fi? There’s no Wi-Fi out here! I don’t even have a cell signal! I have like zero bars. How am I supposed to text anyone?”
“You can’t. Not at the moment.”
“This is a nightmare!”
“I did warn you not to come.”
“You’d think with all these scientists you’d be able to keep your fucking Wi-Fi working!”
“We had to turn it off for security purposes.”
“You turned it off on purpose!”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not! This is bullshit!” She glanced at the slack-jawed faces of Belenki’s team, shook her head with disgust and left the conference room. The silence after her absence was palpable.
“All right,” Belenki said. “Let’s try to focus on the task at hand. Where were we?”
It hadn’t been easy to convince his crew to keep the Argo Wi-Fi and cellphone free, but Belenki wanted no connection to the internet. Most of the scientists thought that was due to Belenki’s paranoia over the perceived Russian threat. Only a tiny handful knew of his concern with Daisy, and those few confidants kept that information to themselves. Keeping his Cape Canaveral launch center off the web was even trickier, but Belenki was the boss and he insisted on complete internet blackout at the launch site.
Fergus himself supervised security on the yacht with a force of ten former special op soldiers. Belenki kept his trip to Florida top secret and insisted there be no mention of his or anyone else’s movements on social media or anywhere else. He wanted the world to think he was still on his private island in the San Juan’s. That was why he couldn’t go to South Beach or even the launch site. Every member of his team was sworn to secrecy. He knew some believed he was losing his mind and becoming a modern-day Howard Hughes. But so be it if that’s what it took to secure the world from a murderous AI bent on world domination.
Severina arrived at noon, out of the blue. She claimed to have important news. Because of the communication blackout, she had to deliver it in person.
“You look a little pale,” Belenki said.
“I don’t do well on boats.”
“So what’s so important that you had to come all the way out here and interrupt my schedule?”
“It’s about Wendy Zimmerman. I
explained the entire situation to her and she agreed to keep her mouth shut, but then she—” Severina hesitated.
“What? What did she do?”
“She talked to Flynn and told him about the launch. The location, the day, and the time.”
“How could she possibly know any of that?”
Severina hesitated again. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“You told her, didn’t you?”
“To make her understand why she needed to keep her mouth shut.”
“That was very ill-advised.”
“I was sure she understood.”
“So where is she now?”
“We’re holding her at your private island estate.”
“You took her to Wembly Island?”
“Mr. Fergus thought it would be best.”
“You’re holding her against her will?”
“A citizen’s arrest until she can be turned over to the FBI.”
“And what about Flynn?”
“I don’t think he’s a threat. Security is so tight at the cape, if he shows his face I’m sure they’ll catch him.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Belenki said. “He never does what you expect him to. Yes, he’s delusional, but that’s what makes him so formidable. If not for him, I doubt any of us would have made it out of my house in Saratoga alive.”
“Would you like me to head back to Wembly Island and keep an eye on Wendy?”
“No reason to rush back. Stay tonight and watch the launch in the morning. You can fly back with me tomorrow.”
Anika stood in the doorway in her micro-bikini, a look of fury on her perfectly beautiful face. “We’re flying back tomorrow! I thought we were going to Miami.”
“We’ve had a change of plans,” Belenki said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll go to Miami by myself then. Drop me off in the dinghy and I’ll call a limo.”
“I wish I could.”
“What do you mean you wish you could? Why can’t you?”
“Anika, please—”
“You’re a fucking control freak and I am fed up with it!”
She charged out of the room and Belenki offered Severina an embarrassed smile. “Sorry you had to see that.”