The Recruiter

by Roger Weston

  “Who is it?” came a male voice from inside.

  “Police. Open up.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Fugitive on the loose. Need to have a few words with you immediately.”

  The lock rattled. The door came open a couple of inches, but was restrained by a safety chain. When Senator Snider saw a masked man, he tried to slam the door, but it was too late. Robert’s full weight slammed into the wood. The screws that secured the chain ripped out of the wall. The door exploded inward, battering the senator in the forehead and knocking him to the ground.

  Robert stepped inside and closed the door.

  “What happened?” said a woman’s voice in the bathroom. “Are you alright?”

  Robert drew his pistol and opened the bathroom door. The naked woman yelped and was about to scream when Robert pistol whipped her. She landed in the bathtub with a bone-crunching thump. Robert stepped out into the living room where a dazed senator was coming to. He covered the man’s mouth with duct tape and forced him into a chair, taping his hands and feet together. He repeated this process with the woman, though he left her unconscious in the tub and shut the door.

  With the wide-eyed senator watching him, Robert set up his video projector and his portable, expandable screen. “I’m a big fan of home movies,” he said. “My favorite show is American Home Videos. I’d offer you popcorn, Senator, but you’d have trouble eating it in your present condition. Did you know that the Beatle’s White Album is about you? Did you know that the prime minister of Canada has called for your assassination?”

  The senator tried to speak, but the duct tape over his mouth kept his voice muffled.

  Robert turned off the lights and switched on the video projector. He said, “Your constituents have poor judgment, Senator. But one must not judge you. I leave that to Jim Morrison.”

  Robert watched the video footage for a minute. Then the senator began squealing. He tried to stand up, but Robert grabbed his throat. “I said stay there and enjoy the show.”

  Coughing, the senator sunk down into his chair, a look of pure agony and defeat on his face.

  “I guess you didn’t know we were filming you, Senator. Hell, we’ve had a camera in here for your past nine visits.” Robert shook his head. “Always someone different, huh? Watch the film. Should bring back some memories.”

  The senator was breathing furiously through his nose and seemed to be cracking up. He repetitively covered and uncovered his face with his taped hands. A couple of times he started to cry, but he kept watching the video.

  “Real sicko,” Robert said. “Do you have no shame?”

  While the senator watched himself on video and suffered his own private agony, Robert stood on a chair and removed the hidden camera from the overhead light fixture.

  “We won’t need any more video from you, will we?” Robert said. “We own you now, don’t you agree?”

  The senator nodded vigorously.

  “Relax. Don’t worry, Senator. I’m your friend. I sympathize with you. I hope it won’t be necessary to leak this video. Your activities could cost you some votes—and if you tell the world that a ninja dressed in black came in this motel and bound you up to show you a home movie of yourself, you’ll certainly be tagged as a nut case. Did I mention that I’m Jim Morrison? Either way, nobody can deny that it’s you in the videos, can they?”

  The senator shook his head frantically.

  “I can only imagine the pain that this would cause your wife and children, not to mention the shock it would cause your constituents. I’ll bet you’d like to avoid that, wouldn’t you?”

  The senator began to weep, but his mouth was covered with duct tape, so he breathed heavily through his nose. He whined and moaned and pounded his taped hands against his face as though trying to punish himself for his stupidity.

  “That’s part one. I hope it will never become necessary for the national media to view these. If I’m remiss in neglecting an intermission and refreshments, don’t let that offend you. We must proceed with part two. I think you’ll appreciate this.”

  The show went on with a video of the senator’s kids leaving school, coming and going from home, and strolling at the mall.

  “One would hope you would do everything you could to keep them safe,” Robert said. “It is impossible to do so without our good will.

  “As you can see, your whole life will be destroyed in scandal and tragedy if you do not cooperate with your friends—and we do have warm feelings about you. None of these disasters need to happen. The stakes are extremely high for the stimulus bill. The invisible hands of power do reward their friends—and destroy their enemies. Do you want to be a friend?”

  The senator was sunken in his chair, his face utterly pale and sickly. He no longer cried, and his face was seized with fear and devastation.

  “The stimulus bill must pass. The stakes are huge. Is that clear?” Robert packed up his entertainment center and strapped his equipment over his back. “Do not betray us, Senator, for you know the consequences.” He cut the duct tape binding the man’s hands and feet.

  Driving down the freeway, Robert made a call. “Good news,” he said. “Our man wants to play ball. You can count on a base hit.”

  CHAPTER 43

  During his layover in Hawaii, Chuck grabbed a cab and had it drop him off near the Honolulu cruise ship dock. He stood at the rail and watched as the sun set across the glistening sea. Across the waters lay the only hope he had to find Lydia. A small poker chip could hold the clue he needed to find her. Was this a fool’s errand? He hoped not. He punched Aaron’s number into his phone.

  “Hey, kid. You’re not gonna believe this. I collected my mail on the way out of town and found a second file in my box. To be honest, this is getting scary. You won’t believe what was in the file. I think we finally figured out what the late NASA scientist Bruce Foley was so upset about. Watch this, the government already has a nine-satellite solar space dam in orbit with the capability to deliver solar power anywhere on earth. Unfortunately, it also has the power to unleash the massive microwave weapon anywhere too.

  “Go on.” Chuck said.

  “Look, nobody knew how far the technology had progressed because it was top secret and disinformation was occasionally released to the public. Those beams can deliver power down to space radar satellites allowing them to have higher orbits, greater efficiency and longer lives than low orbit satellites and they can beam power to troops in the field. But they can also be used to disrupt electronics and they can be used for deniable attacks on enemy combatants or even population centers.”

  “You wouldn’t want a weapon like that in the wrong hands.”

  “It get’s ugly, pal. I contacted Bruce Foley’s son again. He actually ran me off his property under the threat of violence. Thing is, he then called me from a friend’s house and told me he had something for me. All I had to do was pick it up, and he gave me a drop point. No kidding, Chuck. I actually had to go into a library and open up a rare book to get an envelope.”

  “I think you better back off. I’ll handle it from here.”

  “Now I understand why he ran me off his property. A Colonel Butch Green consulted his father on alternate uses for the massive microwave beam beyond just the peaceful transfer of solar power.”

  “They were consulting him on ways to use solar microwave technology as a weapon?”

  “Yes, and Bruce learned that the government is planning an experiment. Unfortunately, he ended up dead shortly thereafter. It reminds me of the nuclear tests that the government carried out in Nevada in the 1940s. The nuclear fallout led to many down-winders getting exposed to high levels of radiation.”

  “Did you find out where?”

  “What the government plans is … well, I’ll just tell you. They’re planning to test their microwave beam at Jin Mountain. The plan is to hit the test subjects with microwaves of low to mid intensity, measured in MHz. They’re trying to figure out what intensities are
needed for what effects. For example, they expect the subjects to suffer headaches, nausea, eye damage, ear problems, etc. with the low intensity beams. Nothing serious, right?”

  “Did you say, test subjects at Jin Mountain?”

  “Yes, now listen, the high power tests will be a different story. High powered microwave beams rapidly heat water molecules, including those in the human body. Imagine you’re walking down the street, and all of a sudden your blood starts boiling—literally.”

  “At Jin Mountain? Does the file give any clues to its location?”

  “No, now hear me out. The subjects who are selected for the medium intensity tests will be taken to the extreme, just short of fatal if calculations are correct. Those who are selected for the high intensity test will suffer a horrendous death. Impossible to imagine what it would be like to boil to death, isn’t it, kid?”

  Chuck shuddered.

  “Keep in mind that microwave attacks are deniable and untraceable at the present time, so there won’t be anyone to blame.”

  “Bastards.”

  “If the tests are successful, the space beam will be used for crowd control. They can also be used to destroy semiconductors and disable electronics—including the electronics of missiles. Enemy troops will be highly vulnerable. It will paralyze, stun, and cook people in their skin…and the tests are going to be held in a week.”

  “A week? Did you get anything that might lead me to Jin Mountain? I need a location.”

  “No sorry, kid. And to tell you the truth I think I dug too deep if you know what I mean. You won’t be hearing from me for a while, kid, and I suggest you be careful, too. Judy and I are hitting the road for good this time. Take care.”

  Chuck was silent for a moment. “Thanks for helping me, Aaron,” he said. “I owe you. Give Judy a hug for me and take care of her.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Snoqualmie Falls, Washington

  Robert parked his car at Snoqualmie Falls, an hour east of Seattle. He stood on the view platform, which hung out over a cliff that dropped hundreds of feet to the Snoqualmie River. Across the gorge, a waterfall plunged into a big pool of whitewater, churning up the river below and spewing clouds of cool mist, some of which Robert could feel on his face, high up on the platform. The falls were so noisy that the rain was soundless. He stared across the gorge into the rich green forest, a dripping, fog-shrouded mountainside of fir trees. He was feeling the moistness on the sleeve of his sports jacket when he saw Leslie approaching the overhang.

  Leslie’s short, brown hair was windblown. She folded up her umbrella as she entered the covered viewing area.

  “You know, I actually pity him,” she said. “I really do.”

  “Brandt?” Robert said.

  She pulled off her glasses and wiped off the streaks of rainwater with her handkerchief. “Why not? He loved his wife. Her death crushed him. That was the one time when you truly had him near the breaking point.” She looked down for a moment. “That’s why I pity him.”

  Robert snorted in derision. “You’ve become quite the romantic, Leslie. I hope you haven’t fallen for our player.”

  Leslie’s lips tightened. “What are his latest indications?”

  “We did a blood test on him and—”

  “Where’d you get his blood?”

  “He lost a finger recently. Our friend Tree is quite handy with a knife. Between the test results and his other reactions, our observers put his stress quotient at 5.5 during the ordeal.”

  She stared at him a moment. “That’s it? And you were lopping off his finger? How was he later on?”

  “He went negative.”

  “Below normal, Robert? I hope you’re joking.”

  “This is just the kind of data that we’re looking for.”

  “I’m telling you, he’s as cool as a shark. Take him out while you still can.”

  Robert’s gaze drifted down into the yawning gorge. “I will when the time is right. But I’m not done with him yet.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Ng Yuen, Lantau Island, Hong Kong

  Chuck stood on a bridge that zigzagged over a carp pond. Leaning against its brightly painted wooden rail, he dialed Aaron’s number. He was eager to hear if he had found out anything that might lead him to the location of Jin Mountain.

  Chuck gazed up at the steep and rocky green walls that surrounded him. They rose to high treeless peaks under blue skies. His eyes followed a trail up one of the mountains to a sheer rock face. Chuck lowered his gaze to the reflection of the mountains on the carp pond. Aaron was taking a long time to answer the phone. He usually picked up after the first ring. Chuck shook his head and stood up straight. He was about to hang up when a man answered.

  “Is Aaron there?”

  “Who is this?”

  Chuck was silent for a moment. “It’s Ray from Hog Heaven motor home repair service. Aaron called me yesterday about a lube job for his rig. I’m just returning his call.”

  “My mom and dad died last night. Their motor home burned. You say my father called you about a lube job? He say anything else about it?”

  “No. I’m terribly sorry. So sorry to call you at a time like this. Good-bye, sir.”

  “No, no—”

  Chuck hung up. They’d killed Aaron and his wife.

  First Aung Ying dead. Lured to America and killed for exercising the freedom he was promised. Then Lydia kidnapped. Taken away from her baby. Now Aaron and his wife dead. All because they knew him. Anger and rage overtook him. He tried to disconnect himself from the thoughts that fueled those impulses. Emotions generally led to irrational and stupid actions. In this game, they were likely to be fatal. He regained his composure and became logical, rational, disconnected.

  He would find Lydia. That’s all. No emotion required. Just action. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he realized that his knees were shaking, not from fear, but from adrenaline.

  He turned and headed back toward the parking lot where Jeff was waiting. Chuck considered that he was only two miles from where he would get the location to Jin Mountain. And the location of justice.

  CHAPTER 46

  Tai O, Lantau Island, Hong Kong

  Sitting in the shade of a canvas top that stretched over the mid section of Chow’s sampan, Chuck searched for any sign of the old lady. Earlier, he’d asked around and was told she knew the location of Gary Jin’s junk. He tugged on the bowline and wrapped another loop of rope around the dock cleat. The other end of the bowline was fastened to a ladder that climbed up to a stilt house. The harbor shores and inlet into the village itself were lined with pang uk, ramshackle stilt houses made of wood and coated in sheet metal to delay corrosion. Numerous little motor boats and a couple of other sampans lined the channel. Beyond the tiny village of stone-paved alleys and pang uk rose high green hills. Not seeing Chow, Chuck turned around toward the harbor. Two junks sat next to a couple of sampans. Beyond those a cluster of fishing boats bobbed in the high tide.

  Chuck shook his head. “She’s taking too long,” he said to Jeff. “I’ll go look around for her. If she shows up, tell her I’ll be right back.”

  The sampan rocked as Chuck stood. He climbed the ladder up to the platform. He wandered on winding narrow walkways among the stilt houses. According to Chow, Tai O was crowded on the weekends, but this was midweek and the tourist flow was light. There were narrow, pedestrian-only streets with shops and stalls, many selling fresh and dried seafood: Fish, abalone, scallops, stingray, shark, and squid. He passed booths where fish hung in rows, drying in the sun. He looked down various alleys and into shops. No sign of Chow. He picked up some food and headed back to the boat. Now, Chow was there seated in the Sampan next to Jeff.

  Chuck handed Jeff a bag of take-out with his bandaged hand.

  Jeff tore the bag open, flipped back the lid and went at the fish with chopsticks. “This is really good,” he said with his mouth full of fried chunks.

  “Mountain rat,” Chuck said.

  Jeff�
�s hands kept working the food into his mouth even as he looked at Chuck with skepticism. “Can’t complain.”

  Chow laughed. “I find out all okay.”

  “Don’t put yourself in danger,” Chuck said.

  “How you say— Life not to play safe.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Chuck thought of Aaron Hansen. Hadn’t Aaron just adopted that philosophy a few days ago? Whoever burned Chuck’s friend was playing life for an early grave.

  “Yes, my husband was fisherman,” Chow said. “He like take risk. Forty year ago when”—She hesitated—“when Jin’s crew tell him pay for protection, he no pay nothing. They kill him. I become widow and work as sampan lady to feed kids. Forty year long time no husband, three kids. Sometime Jin park his boat right there. What I can do? Police, they no care, then. They no care now. I ask the people for help.”

  “But don’t the vendors fear him? Weren’t they afraid to help you?”

  “Yes, of course. But Jin want tear down their pang uk. He want build houses for rich. But people complain. We very poor. A few year ago, big fire here. Some say Jin light fire. Many pang uk burn down. Jin try tear down the others, but no, sir. Still no. Some say Jin, he light fire. Local people they no like no Jin, no like to look at his boat, no like his caretaker. He evil man. He threaten them. But he go ashore in night time.”

  “Okay, then,” Chuck said. “We come back here tonight.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I bring you. Jin, he take father away my kids. He no stop you.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Chuck said.

  She fired up the outboard, and with a wrinkled hand, steered the boat down the channel between the stilt houses. With her slippered feet on the rowing platform and a cone-shaped wicker hat protecting her from the sun, she began to sing in Chinese, but the whine of the outboard engine prevented Chuck from hearing very much. As they passed the junks in the deep harbor, he casually took them in—especially the big one. He saw no signs of habitation. Chow took the sampan offshore and cruised up the coast. “I one of Tai O last sampan lady,” she said. “I too old live by fear.”