See No More

by W B Dineen

  CHAPTER 48

  I take the Amtrak from Portland and get off in Salem. There, I rent a mid-sized car and drive the rest of the way into Albany. On my way I pass signs for a local amusement park called The Enchanted Forest, and I wonder what it would have been like to have gone there as a child. I drive by quaint-sounding towns like Jefferson and Millersburg, and before I know it I’m at my exit.

  I’m booked at a charming bed and breakfast in the historic district of town. The woman who greets me is a few years older than I am and has a vintage meets tattoo parlor vibe going on. She looks like Lucille Ball, back in the day, if she’d joined the Hell’s Angels. Her name is Kimmy.

  Kimmy checks me in and leads me up to the large suite that takes up most of the third floor. She explains the house was built in 1889 and she’s only the fourth owner in all that time. She moved here from Portland to run a B&B out of a home that’s on the national historic registry.

  I have a full night and half a day to kill before I meet the rest of our group at the lab. Since I look nothing like I did the last time I was here, I decide I’ll be safe enough to walk around downtown. I stroll down First Street and walk into a cool-looking wine bar. I order the steak, pear, and hazelnut salad, along with a gin and tonic. I’m not a big drinker, but right now the thought of copping a little buzz is exceptionally appealing.

  While I wait for my dinner, I listen to the jazz trio playing in the bar and let my mind drift. This is the town where my dad grew up, the town where I would have visited my grandparents had they not been killed in a fire. I try to form a connection between who I am now and the person I might have become had everything not gone so spectacularly wrong, but I can’t.

  When my dinner arrives, I dig in like I haven’t eaten in days. Suddenly, I’m famished and realize the salad won’t be enough, so I order a pizza and an apple crumble, not caring which is brought first. I consume everything I order. I should be stuffed and unable to stand, yet alone move, but I’m not. And if I weren’t embarrassed to do so, I’d stay and get something else.

  The clock says it’s nine and I quickly realize I’m as restless as I was just hungry. I pay my check and walk the five blocks back to Hendricks House. I use my key to unlock the front door. When I don’t see anyone else, I continue up the stairs. I’m shocked to find the door to my lodgings wide open and the room trashed. My overnight bag is on the ground, and all the contents are spilled out, books are pulled off the shelf, and the bed has been ripped apart.

  How in God’s name have I been tracked here? Again, I don’t look anything like I did when I first came to Oregon. I flew under another name and out of a different airport. It’s beyond me how our enemy keeps finding us.

  My veins feel like ice water is running through them. I don’t know if the person who did this is still in the house somewhere and I don’t feel safe standing here, so I quickly bolt the door and repack my overnight bag. Within moments there’s a knock and a tentative Kimmy calls out, “Laura, are you in there?” My current alias is Laura Finely.

  I open the door without thinking and find my landlady standing there with a strange man holding a gun on her. Holy shit. My feet are riveted to the floor, yet I somehow know I have to move. I don’t think before I slam the door and re-lock it. I hope to God I haven’t doomed the inn keeper to her death, but my need for self-preservation doesn’t allow me to stay and find out.

  If I’m extremely careful, I can crawl out the window onto the ledge, and shimmy my way down the drainpipe, which I’m hoping will be secure enough to hold me. I grab my carry-on and am halfway down the pipe before I hear shots coming from my room. I take this to mean the door has been blown open and my enemy is only steps behind me.

  As soon I hit the roof line of the first floor, I jump to the ground with a very indelicate thud. My legs hurt like hell, and I’m afraid I’ve injured my butt, but I don’t waste time assessing the damage. I get up and run. I don’t go to my rental car because I’m sure whoever’s after me is expecting me to do just that.

  I dart down alleyways and across streets. I run and run and run like I’m trying to pick up enough speed to fly. I run until I reach the outskirts of town where the space between houses grows much wider. I keep going until I run into an open field. I must be three miles from where I started before I finally drop.

  My lungs feel like they’re about to burst, when I finally slump down into the tall grass and begin to cry. I’m scared to death and feel more alone than I’ve ever been in my life. How much longer can we keep fleeing from a phantom? How do they keep finding us? And while I’m at it, who the hell are they?

  I put my satchel under my head and try to slow my inhalations. It’s freezing out here and I watch as my breath evaporates slowly into the atmosphere. The darkness surrounds me like a blanket of unknown terrors. I hear an animal howl in the distance and realize if I don’t find shelter soon, I’m in danger of more than freezing to death.

  The smell of wet earth assails my nostrils and makes me slightly nauseated. I peek up above the tall grass to see if I can spot any pursuers. After several minutes, when I don’t detect any movement or notice any cars passing, I spot an old barn about a hundred yards away. I conclude it’s my only option for refuge until I can find my way to Dad’s and Niko’s lab tomorrow. It’s a good thing I ate such a huge dinner. I’ve already burned up half of it and the other half is going to have to hold me until tomorrow.

  The barn is used as a machine shed. I quickly change out of my wet clothes and put on the only other two outfits I have with me for warmth. Then I find some grain sacks to use as blankets. I creep through the barn until I see a flatbed trailer, probably used to haul hay or smaller machinery, and I climb aboard. This will, by far, be the most uncomfortable night I’ve ever had, but I’m not complaining. It’s lightyears ahead of sleeping in a wet field. And I’m still alive, so there’s that.

  CHAPTER 49

  For someone who uses technology almost nonstop throughout her workday, I’m getting to the point where I rarely reach for my cell phone, or prepaid phone, which I now carry. No one calls me, and I’m not supposed to call them unless it’s an emergency. But if this isn’t an emergency, I have no idea what is.

  I dial my dad first, and while it’s ringing I trace my fingers over the numbers I’ve written down for my mom and Jake. I completely forget our code of ringing five times, hanging up, and calling back to let it ring another two. The temporary mailbox picks up with only a beep to alert me. I haven’t thought about what to say, so I wing it. “This is an emergency. You need to call me back immediately!”

  I leave the same messages for my mom and Jake. While I wait for them to return the calls, I start to think memory-washing might be a perfectly acceptable alternative to my current path. Of course, the problem with an erased memory would be that I’d be an easy target with an unknown enemy still at large.

  Maybe witness relocation is the way to go. But if I do that I’d never get to see my sister again, and what are the chances they’d let my parents, Jake, and me disappear together? Yet, anything has to be better than my current fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants existence.

  Five minutes later, no one has called me back. That’s when I vaguely remember my dad warning us not to leave a message unless we’ve been caught. Sweet mother of God, what was I thinking? In my adrenaline-rushed panic I did the very thing I shouldn’t have and alerted every person in this nightmare with me that I’ve been caught. I try calling them all back using the correct code, but no one responds.

  I don’t know what to do. I can’t go to the lab now, although I wonder if they’ll still meet there. They might assume I’ve been tortured into giving their location away. I should have worn myself out by now, but I’m full of energy after my impromptu run. I do a hundred jumping jacks, squats, and crunches, followed by some yoga stretches before I finally wear myself out. Then I lie down with my eyes wide open, fabricating danger in every shadow. Every whistle of the wind and creak of the building is an alien menace cl
osing in on me.

  When I finally succumb to unconsciousness, my sleep is one of those weird twilight zone limbos. While have truly bizarre dreams, it simultaneously feels like I lie awake all night. When I can’t take it another second, I roll over on the unforgiving flatbed, and every bone in my body protests in response. This must be what it’s like to be a hundred and five.

  I check my phone and find no return calls or texts have come in but discover it’s already six o’clock in the morning. I get up slowly and stretch for several minutes before starting to make my way back downtown. I’m careful to avoid the B&B and circumventing the center of town while still heading in the direction of the lab.

  I’ve never felt more hopeless or disheartened in my life, and that’s saying something. By the time I’m hoofing it across the bridge over the Willamette River, traffic increases to the point of being busy. I walk slowly, with my head down. Not only because I’m depressed, but because I’m desperately trying not to draw extra attention to myself. It works until a car pulls over to the side of the road as I pass a storage facility.

  I’m torn between screaming and running when Buddy jumps out and trots over to me. His tongue is hanging out in a happy canine smile, and his tail wags in excitement. If I’ve ever wondered if there really is a god, I now have my answer. After giving the dog a vigorous rub, I look up and see my dad motioning for me to hurry up and get into the vehicle.

  I’m barely inside, with Buddy on my lap, when he pulls back onto the road. He reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Oh, my God, Katie, I’m so relieved to see you! What happened last night?”

  I tell him everything. When I get to the point of hiding out in the machine barn, I sigh, “I don’t know what I was thinking leaving messages. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  Theo nods his head slowly. “It’s one thing to be told what to do in case of emergency, and it’s another to do it. I know how easy it is to forget.”

  I lean my head out the window. “Where are Mom and Jake?”

  “When we got your messages last night, we aborted plans to stay apart and met as soon as possible. I got them situated at the lab and then took off with Buddy to look for you.”

  “You’ve been looking all night?” I ask.

  “I have, which is why I’m going to pull through Starbucks and get some coffee.” He turns right where he would have normally gone straight and queues up in line. A short while later we’re heading into the countryside with eight large paper cups and enough breakfast sandwiches and pastries for a small army.

  It turns out Dad’s lab is very close to the cemetery where he was supposedly buried. He pulls off onto a small dirt road and drives about a mile until he reaches a decrepit old building. The structure is long and narrow and looks like it’s about to fall over.

  “This is your lab?” I demand.

  Dad laughs. “You’d never guess, would you?”

  I wouldn’t, and I immediately hope they’re not working on anything dangerous in there. One big wind storm would probably knock the whole place over. He parks the junker he’s driving behind several large hay bales and gets out. “This way,” he instructs.

  I follow him as he proceeds along the side of the building. He stops in front of a rusted-out piece of machinery and kicks some dead leaves to the side. Then he reaches down and pulls up on a hidden handle that leads to a subterranean building.

  Dad waits while I go down a retractable staircase before following me. The last time I was underground was when we were in Einstein’s cave. I’m praying this time is a much different experience.

  CHAPTER 50

  I run straight into my mom’s arms. She holds me like she never thought she’d see me again and, truth be told, I had my doubts she would. When she finally relinquishes her grip, Jake grabs me in a bone-crushing embrace. He whispers in my ear, “Thank God you’re safe.” After several moments, he releases his hold but stays pinned to my side.

  The lab is high-tech and clean. There are machines and computers everywhere and I wonder how Nikolay’s patents have managed to pay for so much and for so long.

  I share the story of the intruder at the B&B with Mom and Jake and give them as many details as I can remember. None of them were likewise set upon, but they all vacated their lodgings as soon as they got my messages. My dad picked them up in his beat-up car, so the GPS on the rentals wouldn’t give away their location.

  I quickly finish a cup of coffee before throwing my cup in the trash. “Any word from Nikolay yet?”

  Theo seems as eager as I am for the answer. Jake nods his head. “He’s resting in the other room.”

  My mom interjects, “He told us he wouldn’t say anything until you got back. Something about a system the two of you have.”

  My dad walks down a narrow pathway behind some machinery and opens the door. I can see around him, and sure enough the old Russian is lying on a small cot. Dad turns on the light and Niko jumps up, as though on the receiving end of an ice-cold shower.

  He looks at my dad without any warmth and declares, “Let’s get to it, then.”

  They come back into the lab very focused and grim looking. They completely ignore each other while they get busy mixing various liquids. It’s like watching two mad scientists in the throes of divine inspiration. Stoppers come out of bottles, drops of multi-colored liquids are mixed, there’s some stirring and mild shaking before it’s go-time.

  They each fill a syringe of the concoction they create. I don’t know what they’re doing, but the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with dental floss. I have no idea what will happen to Niko if my dad discovers he’s been lying all these years.

  While the mixing is going on, Jake walks over to a safe and dials in a combination. When it opens, he pulls out a sealed envelope along with a two arm cuffs attached to rubber cords and a laptop. It takes him a few minutes to get everything organized.

  Dad and Nikolay sit down, and each attach an armband to the other. The cords are wrapped around their torsos. Then they take turns giving each other an injection in their unencumbered arm.

  Jake taps away on the computer and explains, “They’re administering a combination of hypnotic drugs and barbiturates that will act as a truth serum.”

  I watch the men’s faces intently. “How do you know that’s what they’re giving each other and not something lethal?”

  “Ultimately, we don’t know. The bottles could have been changed out by either of them at any time, but neither your dad nor Nikolay know which vial will be used on them, so they’re less likely to tamper with anything in case they become the unintended recipient.”

  The atmosphere is heavy as Jake attaches a sensor to both of the men’s fingers before opening the envelope.

  He begins an interview of sorts.

  Jake: Theodore, please tell me your government identification number.

  Theo: 198Z6F42L

  Jake: Nikolay, what is your government identification number?

  Niko: 89TJ723BR

  Jake: Theodore, are you now or have you ever been a governmental operative?

  Theo: Yes, to both questions.

  This isn’t the answer I’m expecting, and I briefly wonder which side of this thing my dad is on.

  Jake: Nikolay, are you now or have you ever been a governmental operative?”

  Niko: Yes, and yes.

  Jake: Theodore, what government currently employs you?

  Theo: I work under the United States Defense Department for silver-black-op, See No More.

  Jake: Nikolay, what government currently employs you?

  Niko: The US Defense Department, silver-black-op, See No More.

  Jake: Are either of you now or have you been employed or received monetary recompense by another world government or order?

  Jake: No.

  Niko: Yes. In college I accepted financial compensation from the USSR to receive my degree. It was understood I would work for them after doing so.

  Jake: Have you ever worked for Ru
ssia or any other government other than the United States?

  Niko: I have not.

  Jake puts down the sheet of paper and proceeds to ask some questions of his own.

  Jake: Theodore, did you take the antimatter weapon created by you and two others at Caltech in 1993?

  Theo: I did not.

  Jake: Nikolay, did you take the antimatter weapon created by you and two others at Caltech in 1993?

  Niko: No, I did not.

  Jake: Theodore, do you have any idea who took the weapon?

  Theo: Up until recently, I thought it was Fareed Patel, but I now have reason to suspect Nikolay Akulov may have played a part in its disappearance.

  The Russian’s face turns red in anger and he looks like he wants to punch my father in the face.

  Jake: Nikolay, do you have any idea who took the weapon?

  Niko: I also thought it the work of Fareed Patel, but I’ve recently received information suggesting my friend Theodore was the criminal who took it.

  Now it’s my dad’s turn to look like he’s about to pop a blood vessel.

  Jake takes a few moments to consider the check marks he’s been making and tallies up the results. He finally announces, “Theo, Niko, you’re both telling the truth, with no margin of error.”

  Both men look relieved to hear the news and turn toward one another. Without taking off the lie detector paraphernalia first, they embrace. The room immediately feels lighter.

  My dad pats his friend on the back. “I knew in my heart it wasn’t true, but this game we’ve been playing has a way of messing with your head.”

  The Russian taps my dad on the shoulder. “Your head? I’ve been mad with doubts!”

  Bethanie steps forward and takes turns staring at them both. “I think it’s about time you told me and Kate what in the hell is really going on here.” I couldn’t agree more.