by Seren Goode
Since we had trashed our phones, which she reminded us she had been against, we couldn't easily access her email and get the photo. After Breeze told Waters about the picture, he had us go clear across town to a copy store, log in on their computers, and download the photo.
With a little research, we were able to identify the license plate and TSP tracking numbers on the van as being Federal. Federal? As in the Feds? Agents?
Why would the government take our parents into custody? Some freaking out occurred at that point: Breeze wanted to call home; Shim and Jaxon fought; and I was pretty sure I was having a heart attack the way my heart tried to pound out of my chest. It might have been a panic attack.
Waters was more helpful, if a little crude, in reminding us we had been sent to him because our parents didn’t trust the bleep, bleep, bleeping government.
Through various nefarious contacts, Waters picked this building as the best way to gain access to the government’s vehicle tracking program and declared it our final project. Maybe this had been his plan all along, to use our desire to access a system and track the van to get access to something major, like government secrets he could sell.
So here we were, ready to infiltrate. As Breeze continued to play guide, I looked around the lobby. It was straight from a dystopian novel. The open atrium wedged up into the floors above like a grayish wound. Pale green protrusions extended overhead, intensifying the harsh flatness of the concrete walls and balconies.
It was eleven-fifteen in the morning, and the lobby was overflowing with federal workers escaping for lunch. The office we had targeted would be empty—we hoped—as a Federal employee’s day started early and most took an early lunch. Our self-guided tour entry time was eleven-twenty. Knowing we had to go through a full security checkpoint with metal detectors, we had left our bags with Waters. That would have been a big bonus for him, but we had pulled out almost all the cash, and the bracelet, watch, and ring, and left the items in a locker at the Caltrain station. I hoped it didn’t turn out to be a mistake.
For two days, I had been tracking the General Services Administration (GSA) workers. They kept federal agencies running and one of them would have the access we needed. The Social Security Administration Offices were at a neighboring entrance, so there were a lot of people hanging around outside the eighteen-story mesh box of a building, and it was easy to fit in with them.
Early that morning, as I swayed on the metal handrail of a downtown bus, Sharron Talsko had taken the seat behind me. Sharron worked for the Office of Transportation, Relocation, and Vehicles, located on the ninth floor of the Federal Building.
Like a well-organized dance, I slid into a seat beside her. It was perfect. A lot of people wore their badges on lanyards or clipped to their pockets. I’d overheard Sharron telling a co-worker that she thought that looked tacky and didn’t match her jewelry, so she clipped hers to her purse, which she plunked down on the seat between us—like a big open yard sale. Easy pickings, I thought as I palmed the badge. Unfortunately, the badge didn’t say what floor her office was on.
It was now eleven thirty-five, and I caught sight of Sharron Talsko leaving the lobby elevators for lunch. She was with a friend and complained about leaving her badge at home and having to wait in the ID line to get back in. We had to hope the rest of her office was as punctual, or we would have to turn to our backup plan.
With the tour leaflet flapping in front of her, Breeze read off details about the sustainability of the building, and we all stared up, pretending to be engrossed in our examination of the futuristic space. Sharron Talsko cleared the lobby, and we smoothly hopped on the elevator. Shim had accessed the building directory and confirmed which floor we needed to get off on. I watched him now as he pushed the button for the ninth floor. I noted how steady his hand was in contrast to mine, which had been shaking from the minute I pulled the badge from Sharron Talsko’s purse this morning. Staring up at the numbers, I absently played with the necklace at my throat as I watched each floor tick by and tried to calm my rapid breathing. I must have sounded like a racehorse, air whooshing in and out, my nostrils flaring. But no one else seemed to notice my internal struggle.
This floor was indistinguishable from every other floor. The elevator doors opened on a mini-lobby and, to the left and right sides, doors labeled “Employee Access Only” with a keypad beside them. We got off the elevator in a conspicuous clump, huddled together, eyes wide. A steady vibration told me I wasn’t the only one shaking.
Shim is the one who shook us out of it.
“Breeze, point. Jaxon, rear. Skylar, lookout,” he hissed. Breeze immediately snapped to and turned right. We all stopped and stared at her. She stopped and sheepishly backtracked. “Kidding.” She gave a weak laugh as she headed to the door on the left that our online research had told us housed the Department of Transportation. Scanning the porthole style window in the door, she gave a thumbs up. Turning, I saw Jaxon and Skylar give a similar sign. Moment of truth. I went to the keypad and swiped the badge. There was a delay, then a green light followed by the click of a mechanism unlocking. Sharron Talsko’s badge had worked.
I entered through the door first, followed by Shim, then the twins, and Jaxon bringing up the rear. A wall of windows on one side of the hall and glass front offices on the other made me feel like we were walking a gauntlet, waiting for someone to challenge us with each step. We had backup plan upon backup plan if we got caught, but we would lose this opportunity, and a second attempt would get trickier.
The first room we passed was a kitchenette. The others funneled in, and I did a quick walk down the hall, checking office numbers.
There it was, third from the end. As I U-turned and passed the office again, I did a quick sneak peek.
Oh Stars. There was a big bald mountain of a man spread out in the back. He must have to lift weights every spare moment to stay that jacked. His body was poured into khaki pants, a plaid button-down, and a green tie his neck was exploding out of. He sat hunched over his desk with his knees pulled up under it like it was kindergarten furniture. The guy had an unwrapped sandwich and an open soda laid out in front of him. A novel was propped on his monitor. Daaannnggg it! I moved past the room and headed back to the kitchenette.
“We need the doughnut decoy. Just one guy: big, bald, green tie, plaid shirt.”
“On it.” Breeze and Skylar headed down the hall toward the office.
I started counting. At thirty, I pinned Sharron’s badge to my jacket and left the kitchen, trying to act casual as I passed the big guy in the hall.
“Hey, someone said there is a box of fresh Krispy Kreme Donuts in HR’s break room,” the Mountain of Man volunteered as he passed me.
I used his massive frame lumbering down the corridor as an excuse to squish up against the window and hide my face as he passed. He was out the security door before I could respond.
With the coast clear, I unclipped the badge and shoved it in my pocket, then called to the brothers, and we darted into the room to start searching. We had calculated it would take someone about twelve minutes to get down to the HR department, realize there were no doughnuts, then get back.
Jaxon groaned when we entered the room. It was a large space that held a dozen desks, utilitarian things with metal sides and wooden tops piled with wire baskets of papers and file folders. Personal items littered the surfaces: photos of family, coffee mugs with cute sayings, stuffed animals, and paperweights of children’s handprints. Layered in the mess, every desk had a government printed calendar with the holidays marked in red.
We were looking for a coin amongst all the clutter. Waters’ source didn’t know what kind of coin it was. I had assumed it was a silver dollar, or maybe one of those Susan B. Anthony coins, if it was big enough to have a password taped to it. I started with Sharron’s desk, checking everything metal, then realized it might be inside a drawer or under something. Going back, I
rechecked the desk. Shim joined me, flipping over her keyboard and checking under her monitor and mouse pad. Nothing. We moved onto the next desk. Same results. Time was passing, and we still had to access the system once we found the password.
“What’s this?” Breeze held up a bronze disk.
“You found it!” Jaxon put up his hand in an enthusiastic fist bump, and she left him hanging as she stared at him.
“A Challenge Coin, of course!” Shim said.
Breeze eyed the metal disc she had found on the Mountain of Man’s desk. “What’s a Challenge Coin?”
“They give them to you in the military. You are supposed to keep them on you at all times. He is going to miss this if we take it,” Jaxon explained.
“Well, Waters wants the coin, so if we just get this one chance, we better get to work.” Shim gave a Dr. Evil laugh and rubbed his hands together.
Breeze flipped the coin over and read off the password stuck to the back, and Shim made quick work of logging on while the rest of us clustered around him. “Jaxon, keep lookout.”
“Ah man,” Jaxon groused and slunk to the door.
“Okay, what are the numbers?” Shim asked when he was ready. I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket and read the license numbers written in marker on my arm. It was a bit dramatic, but I had been worried they would keep something when we went through security. It was hard enough smuggling in Sharron Talsko’s badge.
Shim punched at the keyboard, clicked, clicked, clicked his way, navigating the system like a IT veteran.
“It’s crazy you can do that with a computer,” I spoke without thinking, and Shim stopped typing. His hands slid into his lap. I didn’t understand why that comment would throw him off his game
“No, it’s a good thing,” I protested.
“He gets enough shit about it at home. Leave him alone,” Jaxon said over his shoulder, his back to us as he watched the door. Then, to Shim, he added, “Come on, man. We haven’t got all day.”
Shim quickly raised his hands and started to type again.
“It’s been eight minutes,” Breeze confirmed.
More typing, a pause, another click, typing. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner.” Shim fist pumped the air. “Here we go…”
Chapter 12
The Federal Building
Coming around the desk, I slid onto the edge of the chair next to Shim. He kept tapping at the keyboard while scooting over and making room for me. As I looked at the computer, I felt his stare, but when I glanced over, he was looking at the screen.
Vehicle Check Out
Agents:
Agent James Hart, Agent Roy Peters, Agent Paul Colson, Agent Anna Bailey
Vehicle Returned
Agents:
Agent James Hart, Agent Roy Peters, Agent Paul Colson, Agent Anna Bailey
Civilians:
Subject: Arie Galen
Sex: Male / Age: approx. 41
Birthplace: Unknown
Status: In custody, suspicion of espionage, violation of Foreign Agents Registration Act
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Noah Thompson
Sex: Male / Age: 40
Birthplace: Monterey, California, USA, Earth
Status: In custody, suspicion of espionage
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Kindle Hunt
Sex: Female / Age: approx. 41
Birthplace: Unknown
Status: In custody, suspicion of espionage, violation of Foreign Agents Registration Act
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Note: See related case #40593
My legs grew weak, and I collapsed with a thunk to the floor. “Suspicion of espionage?”
The whites of Breeze eyes showed as she asked, “What is the Foreign Agents thing?”
“It means the government thinks they are spies. At least we know for sure they have them.” Shim’s voice was tight. Only I could see the slight shake to his hands as he hit print, and across the room, a printer whirled and churned out pages.
“NSD? Is that the National Security D….agency-something? Aren’t those the guys that can take you out of the US and torture you?” Skylar’s panic was infectious, and I felt nauseous as my stomach dropped.
“We don’t know that. We don’t know anything for sure,” Shim rushed to reassure us, but I could see he shared my fear and confusion. This had all been a waste. There wasn’t anything to follow up on to find where they were.
I was chewing on my nail, so I used my elbow to point at the screen. “What’s with the related case note at the bottom?”
“I’ll look it up.” More clicking and clacking followed his response. “Hmmm…”
Case #40593
Subject: Micah Pujari
Sex: Male / Age: approx. 42
Birthplace: Unknown
Status: In custody, suspicion of espionage, violation of Foreign Agents Registration Act
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Trystal Pujari
Sex: Female / Age: approx. 42
Birthplace: Unknown
Status: In custody, suspicion of espionage, violation of Foreign Agents Registration Act
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Amber Pujari
Sex: Female / Age: 18
Birthplace: Los Angeles, California, USA, Earth
Status: In custody
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Jada Pujari
Sex: Male / Age: 15
Birthplace: Los Angeles, California, USA, Earth
Status: In custody
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Subject: Gemma Pujari
Sex: Female / Age: 4
Birthplace: Los Angeles, California, USA, Earth
Status: In custody
Location: NSD Interned, undisclosed
Note: See related case #21376
“Weird. The kids all have birthplace listed as Earth.” Shim chortled.
“Why does Arie, Kindle, Micah, and Tyrstal’s records say ‘birthplace unknown’? Wouldn’t foster records or a TPR, termination of parental rights, show where they were born?” I asked.
Shim shrugged. “It’s the government. I thought they had access to all the ‘rents records since they were in the system.”
“So this is the Micah that visited your mom? Is he one of them? Do you think this Trystal person is too? If they are foster siblings, does that mean he married his sister?”
“Gross.” Skylar curled up his lip, then pointed to the screen. “Look at the dates. The government must have taken them into custody first, then picked up Noah, Kindle, and Arie…and then tried to pick us up.”
“Two minutes!” Jaxon’s harsh warning whispered from the door startled me. “He just got off the elevator. Breeze, Skylar, do the next decoy.” The twins raced out of the room. Shim hit print and started to rise from the seat.
“Wait. There is another related case.”
“There’s no time.”
“Please,” I said. We had hit a dead end and had more questions than answers. We had to push a little further.
Shim shrugged and sat back down, quickly tapping in the new case numbers.
Vsheewww. Click, click, click. I jumped at a whirling and ticking sound. I felt the adrenaline injecting into my heart, making it race, even as I realized it was the building’s automated systems opening the windows.
“Grace.” Shim grabbed my hand. His tone was serious, and my adrenaline spiked again. When he pointed to the screen, I followed his gaze.
“What—” All sound and motion stopped as my vision tunneled in on what was on the screen.
Case #21376
Su
bject: Amé Thompson
Sex: Female / Age: approx. 39 (deceased)
Birthplace: Unknown
Status: captured, terminated by Helios Kratos, suspicion of espionage, violation of Foreign Agents Registration Act
Last Known Location: Monterey, California
Note: See related case #00045
My vision blurred. Shim was shaking my hand—no, I was trembling and shaking his hand, which was the only thing keeping me from a total meltdown.
“I don’t understand.”
Shim tugged his hand loose, and I felt myself free fall into a black hole. There was a buzzing in my ears. I barely registered a whirling sound in the background and more clacking.
“Wait,” I protested as he started a new search. The word “terminated” kept repeating in my head. I didn’t realize I was saying it out loud. Shim had a vice grip on my face, his hazel eyes were staring into mine, and he was saying something—repeating the words over and over.
“Grace, Grace,” he repeated in a loud whisper, “Shhhh. Grace, come on, come back, Grace.” When I blinked, his grip loosened, and I registered the contrast of his warm dry hands with the clammy iciness of my skin. I had beads of perspiration on my forehead, and I had to keep blinking to focus. Was I going to pass out?
“Grace,” Shim repeated. “Grace, look at me,” he hissed. He shook me roughly. “If you ever want to find out what happened to your mother, you need to pull it together, and we need to get out of here.”
I stiffened at his words, and a bit more focus came back. Shim let go and returned to the screen. His last search had come up. Barely looking at it, he hit print.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I pushed Shim away from me and back toward the computer. I felt wobbly without his hands on me, but I tried to shake it off. “I’m okay, keep going…find out what that means.”