Stolen Time

by Keith Hughes

  “And all this with Intellisys the first time happened when?”

  “Two years ago,” he told her, and Angie’s eyes lit up.

  “Ah, that explains it,” she said, as if a mystery had been resolved.

  “Explains what?”

  Am I different now from how I was when we got married? Does she resent my interference in our relationship? All sorts of terrible possibilities ran through his mind, most of which ended with Angie walking out the door, leaving him alone — again.

  “For the last couple years, you have been extremely affectionate and attentive. Don't get me wrong — we've been pretty happy over the course of our marriage, but over the last couple of years, we could have been newlyweds again.”

  Ness set the bag of chips aside, his hunger suddenly gone.

  “Is that a good thing?” He felt uneasy.

  “Well, for a while, I’d been nearly sure you'd had an affair,” Angie said, which made Ness blink. “You exhibited the classic signs of someone who had slept around and regretted it: guilt, a secretive nature, and a sudden increase in ardor.”

  “Oh.” Ness did not know how to respond. He had never imagined she had such doubts about him.

  “I finally decided you hadn't been unfaithful to me,” Angie admitted. “I could never explain why, not even to myself. I just knew.”

  Ness gave her a tentative smile, and a tiny blossom of hope took root. Her reaction to the conversation did not seem anywhere as dire as his worst imaginings.

  Angie left her chair and crawled across the bed to him before leaning in to kiss him. When she pulled away, she had a mischievous smile on her face. “How about showing me some more of your bachelor's passion?” she purred, and he fell into her embrace. They held one another, and the seed of hope flowered into a blossom of joy. As long as he had her, his life lacked for nothing. And he wished woe to anyone who tried to take her away.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Regrouping

  Monday, June 7, 2010, 8:13 p.m.

  Looking like a child sent to the headmaster for discipline, Karl was sitting stiffly on a hard chair in front of John Fletcher’s desk. His grim expression clearly showed that he was anticipating an uncomfortable interview, given his recent failures in apprehending the Relevonts. John had been aware the German had endured many things in his life, most of them unpleasant, and his employee had obviously steeled himself to get through the interview as well.

  In contrast, John sat comfortably in his power seat, behind his power desk, wearing his power tie. Power had always been John Fletcher’s main purpose, and he was not afraid to use what he had — a fact he wished to impress upon Karl. John had some authority, but he would soon take more, and Karl would want to be on his good side as John’s influence grew. The staging of the meeting had been carefully orchestrated to apprise Karl that his image in the eyes of his superior needed improvement.

  “A thorough search of the Royal Oak area revealed no sign of the Relevonts. My men are watching the apartment in case they return there.”

  “Ah yes, your 'little soldiers'.” John sneered. “Nestor Relevont took one of your men down, I hear. Are you sure they're qualified for this task?”

  Karl stiffened, and John filed the information away for future use. It was always good to know what buttons to press on one's subordinates to ensure cooperation — or at least to shake them up.

  “Reed is a black belt in judo and karate, proficient in bagwa, and a decorated combat veteran. Relevont got in a... lucky punch.” Karl’s stiff, diffident tone caused John to raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing.

  “Relevont has also had two years of tai chi,” Karl offered.

  John grunted but refrained from further comment. In truth, he could not afford to bring in new muscle at the moment. It would take too long to find the type of men who would do whatever was asked of them and remain quiet. “And what are you doing to find them?”

  “I have facial recognition software running on all public and private surveillance I can hack access to: buses, trains, ATMs, traffic cams, parking garages, malls, and the airport. Eventually, they will come out of hiding, and I will know about it,” Karl reported.

  John agreed it was the best option open to them. Though he experienced a flash of anger, he held it in check. He rarely lost control as he had with Dix and especially regretted it whenever he did so in front of others.

  “When you find them, I want them brought in alive, whether they have the device or not,” John instructed.

  Karl raised an eyebrow.

  “I have... special... plans for them.” His lips stretched in a cold smile.

  “It shall be done as you say,” Karl affirmed.

  John continued his smile, allowing his security chief to relax. The German would do everything in his power to find the Relevonts, and John could expect nothing more.

  “How is Dr. Dix doing in his research?” Karl inquired.

  John snorted in contempt. “He gets excited when his hamster lasts for a fraction of a second after jumping to another time. I’m not sure he understands I need a workable device to use in the field.”

  “Dix is extremely smart,” Karl admitted grudgingly. “I am confident he will resolve his issues.”

  John was surprised Dix had managed to make such an impression on his VP of security, even as their prior interactions convinced him the German did not care for the little man.

  “Let's hope so,” John said darkly, “because if you can't find Ness Relevont and Bertrand's PDA, Dr. Dix's research is the only way the plan moves forward.”

  Karl stood. “I understand and should check on the status of my camera sweeps,” he said.

  John gestured, giving Karl permission to leave, then

  swiveled his chair around and stared through the window into the distance. His goals were tantalizingly close, but too many obstacles impeded his path. One of these situations will resolve itself. I have faith.

  As he stared at the gathering gloom that presaged the coming sunset, John Fletcher could almost hear his future calling to him. Nothing would keep him from answering its summons, not even Ness Relevont.

  * * *

  The head of the beer left a delicate lace of bubbles along the side of the glass as Karl slowly sipped his Bass Ale. He had a passion for beer, and it had become one of his favorites. Surprisingly, it was made right there in America. This young country has come a long way in terms of brewing, he mused.

  His eyes drifted to the computer monitor that was sifting through hundreds of video feeds from all over the Metro Detroit area. Relevont would be captured by one of the cameras, and he would find it. Like using a powerful electromagnet to find the proverbial needle in a haystack, all it would take was time.

  He took another sip of beer as random images flashed and disappeared on his screen, checked and discarded by the facial recognition program. He had stolen the software from the FBI in a caper so secret that the feds did not even suspect they had been pilfered. The security surrounding the programs made it clear they wanted it kept out of the wild. That single detail alone told him it was the best available. The U.S. government could be as inefficient as any other bureaucracy, but when it came to technology for covert operations, it usually had the best.

  He set his glass on his desk, stood, and stretched. It had been a long time since he had slept, and despite the lateness of the hour, he had to stay at his post. So as John slept in his comfortable bed, Karl sat in his office, waiting for a lead as to where the Relevonts might have gone. The software had been searching for the last several hours, and he had it reviewing all footage since noon, so it had a lot of catching up to do. He sighed and paced around his office, trying to stave off the cramps a long stint at his desk inevitably initiated.

  Karl nearly ran back to his computer when it finally chimed. He opened the picture and frowned at the location of the photograph. White letters at the bottom of the image said it had been taken at a gas station in Novi, over half an hour away from where Relevont had last b
een seen. He focused on the face. The eyes and mouth looked similar to his prey, no doubt what had caused the computer to flag it as a possible match. However, the ring through the nose and the elaborate tattoo on his neck eliminated him as a valid result. He tapped the button to close the picture with a bit more force than necessary, sinking into his chair with an exasperated sigh. He took another sip of his beer and leaned back with his eyes closed. Karl did not know how long he sat in that position, or even if he might have dozed off, but when the computer chimed again, his eyes opened automatically.

  He stared at the freeze-frame image on his screen. A red line circled a seated man's face. The computer projected a 96.3 percent chance it was Nestor Relevont. Karl's eyes darted from the monitor to a surveillance photo on his desk. Ja, it could be him.

  When he pressed a few keys, the video sequence played on his screen. The images came from a SMART bus, the only major form of public transportation offered to the masses in the metropolitan Detroit area. He watched as his potential prey entered the bus and sat. A woman followed close behind and took the seat next to him. The couple held hands. Karl paused the video.

  He stared at the grainy image of the pair and examined the woman's features. She had high cheekbones, a clear complexion, and a small nose. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Karl's eyes flicked from the image to another photo on his desk, one of Relevont's wife. Once again, it seemed to be a match.

  Karl played the video back at high speed and watched the couple bounce and sway when the bus negotiated turns and potholes. Finally, after a fifteen-minute bus ride, the couple got off. He paused the image and noted the GPS coordinates displayed in the lower left corner then opened another window and entered the numbers into a mapping website. It identified the location as the intersection of Fifteen Mile Road and Van Dyke. He clicked another button to see the general area, and the system produced a list of retail locations, restaurants, and hotels. Now we are getting somewhere. No doubt the Relevonts are looking for a place to spend the night.

  After he narrowed the search parameters to the area and time when the couple left the bus, in only a few seconds, his computer chimed again as another image appeared on his screen from a camera on the roof of a gas station. He watched the pair amble across the screen, tapped a few keys to confirm the orientation of the camera, and determined they were walking south along Van Dyke. Next, he checked his available cams along their path, but an ATM offered the only possibility. He grunted. Those could be tricky. The ATM might not be pointed in the direction he required if it were the drive-up kind. Also, they only captured images as a bank transaction took place.

  He queried the computer for more information on the machine and sighed with relief. The ATM had been mounted on the front of the bank, facing the street, so at least it had a chance of capturing what he needed it to.

  “Now, do we have a transaction?” Karl opened another window and accessed the bank's security portal, which he had hacked some time ago along with the equivalent sites for the other major banks in the area. He entered the number of the branch and checked for images from the ATM camera. One transaction occurred about five minutes after the Relevonts exited the bus. The next transaction took place over thirty minutes later.

  Karl tapped his mouse button, and the video played. A corpulent man stood in the image. He had pale skin, wispy hair ringing his head, and a stained University of Michigan shirt straining to cover a sizable belly. A bit of the street showed behind this figure, although he did a fair job of filling the screen. Why couldn't it have been an anorexic soccer mom? Karl grimaced.

  The fat man inserted his card as cars passed behind him on the street. His name, Melvin Brochowski, appeared in slightly fuzzy white letters. His big hand disappeared below the camera’s view to press buttons, and still there was no sign of the Relevonts. The bank customer waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot.

  Karl found his constant movement irritating. “Stand still, du narr,” he grumbled.

  Melvin's pudgy hand came back into frame, holding a small stack of twenty-dollar bills. His other set of porcine digits plucked the card back from the machine. Karl frowned. The transaction was almost finished, and still his prey had not appeared. Did they go a different way? Perhaps they did not come this far south.

  After stuffing his card and his money in his wallet, Melvin turned away from the ATM. For one blissful second, the screen emptied of Melvin's bulk before the video ended. Karl frowned. He had seen no sign of them. He opened the video again and froze it on the final frame. In the far right, a man and a woman were just entering view, partially shaded from a security light by a tree. It was hard to make out any details, but he could see the silhouette of the woman's ponytail. It is them! Karl beamed in triumph. It must be.

  He grabbed the handset of his phone and dialed. After a couple of rings, he heard Williams's voice. The thug sounded tired.

  “It's Karl. Relevont and his wife took a bus to Fifteen Mile Road and Van Dyke then headed south by foot around nine p.m. Check hotels in the area. Someone might have seen them.”

  “What about the apartment?” Williams asked, and Karl could hear the van starting in the background.

  “They are apparently smart enough not to return to such an obvious location.” His voice contained a measure of asperity.

  “Understood.” Williams terminated the call.

  Karl hung up the phone and drank from his glass again. The mention of the apartment brought to the fore an idea that had been lurking in the back of his mind. Relevont had displayed far too much intelligence to store the actual device in his home, but he might have left behind a clue to its whereabouts. He took another sip of his beer as he mulled over whether he trusted his kleine Soldaten to find it.

  Nein. He shook his head. I do not. They in no way matched the excellent men who had been at his disposal in East Germany, experts in rooting out what the little people desperately sought to hide.

  He drained the final ounces of his beer in a massive gulp and rose from his desk. As John had said, the operation was his responsibility. He would search the Relevonts' apartment himself. After retrieving a gun from his desk, he slid it into the shoulder holster concealed by his suit coat. Striding out of his office and down the darkened halls, Karl hoped he would find something he could use at Relevont's home. Events had to break in his favor soon, either from his search or from Williams's team. John's patience had its breaking point, and Karl had no desire to see what would happen when he passed that limit. The CEO’s emotions were tightly wound, and the explosion when he lost control could be deadly. Yet another reason to see to this myself.

  Full of dark ruminations, he left the quiet building, intent on finding the troublesome Ness Relevont and his wife. He knew all too well that his life depended on it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Restless Respite

  Tuesday, June 8, 2010, 12:14 a.m.

  Angie reveled in the sensation of Ness’s body against hers as they cuddled under the sheets. The contact of his skin against hers created a singular intimacy even after their many years together. She lay across his chest, and his hand drew lazy circles on her back. But her contentment was marred by notions that there had been a reality where their relationship had not happened. The idea of living an entire life without experiencing the connection to him disconcerted her. No matter how she tried to enjoy the time with Ness, her mind kept worrying over the same question. What was my other self’s fate?

  She had no way to determine the answer. The previous time line had been replaced. As she lay in the quiet of the night, the question kept rising from the depths of her mind to tantalize her, and she knew contemplations of the unknown life she had led before would pester her for some time to come.

  Angie opened her eyes, knowing sleep would be impossible if she pursued the eternal questioning. A dim outline of the table blocking the door brought all her anxiety and anger about their situation flooding back.

  “Who do you suppose is behind this?” An
gie shifted her body so she could see Ness's face.

  His eyes opened, his expression stiffening from its former relaxed state. “Well, Paul did say John Fletcher, the CEO, was the originator of the plan,” he answered. “Other than the Things, I've got no idea who else might be involved.”

  “Why 'the Things'?” she asked.

  Ness grinned. “From The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss. The Cat has these helpers called Thing One and Thing Two.”

  “Oh, wow.” Angie smiled. “I haven't thought about that book in decades.”

  “Well, you are older than me,” Ness teased.

  She had been born the year before Ness, and he often teased her about the slight disparity in their ages. “It happens when you rob the cradle.”

  Angie laughed and poked him in the side. “Did I steal your innocence?” She regarded him with mock seriousness, and Ness's smile widened.

  “Something like that.”

  She shimmied along his body until they were nose to nose.

  “Well, I'm not done yet.” She kissed him, but whatever she had planned after the kiss evaporated when she yawned.

  “I think you're finished for now.” Ness chuckled and slid out from under her.

  She watched as he dressed and retrieved his gun from the dresser. He sat in the chair by the window with the gun in his lap.

  “You sleep for a while,” he said. “I'm too keyed up.”

  Angie wanted to argue, but her body needed rest, even if her mind resisted, so she mumbled assent and pulled the covers to her chin as she snuggled into the comfort of the pillow. She dreamed of being chased by the Cat in the Hat, who wielded a large elephant gun, as she tried to escape with a plate of green eggs and ham.

  * * *

  Lights illuminated the outside of the motel room curtains, and a single sliver shone through the gap Ness was peering through. He tried to relax, a nearly impossible feat given his overwhelming anxiety. So far, the fear kept gaining on his attempts at zen.