Alex and Timmy relaxed. By the time they reached their destination, they had already drafted a range of designs.
***
Jack Morris knocked on the office door of the Director of National Security. The office was arrayed in earth tone colors and was sparsely decorated.
“We identified all four of the individuals,” he said, entering.
Mark Hammond looked up from his tablet. Jack was the only person with complete access to his office.
“I just sent you ident packages on each of them.”
“And the craft?” asked Hammond, feigning disinterest.
“They escaped in it, sir. We lost track of them as they headed over the Gulf Coast at considerable speed. They could be anywhere. We do have a cell phone we can track if it’s in network range. We are also inside their email and bank accounts. We have frozen what funds they have, though there weren’t much. It’s only a matter of time before they return home. I already have agents watching their properties.”
“You’re going to exceed discretionary funds with the size of this operation,” Hammond stated. “I don’t want to have to put this on the books. Making it official will mean more prying eyes.”
“I could recall the agents, if you wish.” They looked at each other, and the silence pervaded the room.
“No. We’ll use black funds on this one,” said Hammond, finally. Jack frowned.
“Sure.” He knew the rumors about black funds, but he had yet to be part of an operation that used them. His job required him not to ask questions. “How much can I count on?”
“If your operation doesn’t exceed one million dollars, we won’t have to talk about money again.”
Hammond opened a laptop that Jack knew could not be connected to the internet. Reading from the screen, he wrote on a sheet of paper and handed it to Jack. An address with a safety deposit box number and an eight-digit passcode.
“You’ll find instructions on how to access the account.” Hammond sat back and pressed his fingers together. “Listen, keep this quiet. Any screw-ups and we can kiss our careers goodbye.”
“What are my objectives?”
“I want that craft! The creators too, as a secondary goal. Try not to kill them while doing it, but if something does happen, it needs to happen to all of them.” He stopped and looked down at his pad. “You’ll need a project name, of course. Make it look legitimate, your agents can’t know this is off the books.”
The room was silent for several moments. “Understood.” Jack walked calmly out of the office. As soon as the office door shut, Hammond picked up his phone and made a call on speed dial.
Chapter 3
Valley of Death
Timmy had to move the cargo container a few times before they found a spot away from hiking trails and out of the baking sun.
Timmy and Jorge were standing outside the container as they watched the sun set.
“That’s because he’s a butt,” Jorge said, as they spoke about Alex. “He’s not even really useful.”
“He’s the one with the resources. Whenever we get into a rut, he finds a way to get us moving again,” reasoned Timmy. He’d always suspected Jorge harbored a distrust of Alex, thanks to the difference in wealth between their families. Now they knew the extent of Alex’s riches, it only seemed to harden the disdain. Plus, Jorge and Alex we’re best friends until Zeek was folded into the group. Over time, Alex and Zeek got close while Jorge grew more distant. As Timmy thought about it, he wasn’t sure Jorge and Alex spent any time together alone since Alex came back from his tour overseas.
“We can’t stay here. This is killing me.” His words turned to vapor as he rubbed his arms in the cold night air.
“I’m open to better locations,” said Alex, emerging from the container.
“This is a cargo box,” said Timmy. “Let’s treat it like a cargo box. Hide in plain sight. We can park it behind a business for a couple hours. Eat, shower, you know… normal human things.”
Alex was in no mood to argue. They hadn’t showered in a few days and it was starting to catch up to them. The smell had got so bad that they preferred to freeze outside.
“That’s a great idea. Get us out of here,” said Alex. After a moment of surprise, they happily got in the ship and took their seats. Zeek was already sitting, coding some kind of program, oblivious to their discussions.
They took off and went north. Timmy was careful to steer clear of cities, but they couldn’t avoid crossing roads. Alex deemed the risk acceptable at night. Meanwhile Zeek, was now piqued as to their destination.
Timmy found a small interstate exit in a wooded area. They hid the container in the tree line near a truck stop, out of view.
“Why not park behind a Denny’s or something? Get some food.” asked Zeek.
“Truck stops have showers,” Alex said quietly. “I don’t have any more cash.”
“I’ve got about forty dollars.” Jorge smiled wickedly.
“Ten dollars each,” said Alex, before realizing the assumption he had made.
To his relief, Jorge continued smiling.
“Sure, man.”
“I really think we should try my debit card,” said Timmy.
“No way,” said Zeek. “They’ll see that immediately.”
“Maybe they’re not even watching. Maybe they don’t even know who we are yet.” Timmy didn’t even sound convinced himself.
Alex stood rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. “Maybe it doesn’t matter if they see a withdrawal. It’s not like we’re going to wait by the ATM. We will be long gone by the time they arrive.”
They looked at each other and no one spoke of a reason not to try.
The truck stop visit went without a hitch. Timmy withdrew five hundred dollars on his credit card just before they left after the debit card didn’t work. They managed to take showers and bought plenty of snack food. The entire visit lasted about fifty minutes. Then they snuck off into the woods, and within moments they were speeding away.
***
Jack reviewed an alert on his phone:
Activity on account T Calhoon. Credit withdrawal in Gallop NM. $500.
Jack had left the credit cards open partly because they had limited available funds and credit was harder to lock up then a standard financial account. Plus, Timmy’s card had never been used before.
“It seems you’re serious about hiding out,” Jack mumbled to no one, even as his team of selected agents worked around him. There had been no activity on the targets’ cells or email.
He sent a text to his Bravo Team – a smaller, mobile unit that was not busy watching the primary residences.
Package is in NM. Move out in five.
***
Jorge put the container down in the mountains of Colorado, away from roads and obvious trails. It wasn’t easy to find somewhere with level ground that was out of sight, using only their little window, in the dark.
After a couple more days, Alex asked Zeek to set up the gear for a satellite link.
So far, they had been using a mobile GPS device to track their position. But they needed internet. Zeek had a mobile satellite uplink device, they had been saving its limited battery until they really needed it.
On Zeek’s suggestion, Alex created new email accounts, and sent off a few messages he had prepared earlier. One went to his father, telling him they were going to Canada. Vancouver. He claimed to have made some friends there.
Another went to Commander Mason. This was much longer, and he hesitated before clicking send. There wasn’t much to do for long days in a cargo container, so the others were all watching and reading the email for themselves.
They were beginning to see the scope of Alex’s ambition. They spent hours debating his ideas. By the end of the week, the batteries they were using for the computers hit twenty-five percent. They shut everything down to save power.
***
Commander Mason received an email flagged as a possible threat. The subject line caught his atte
ntion. We are planning a second visit. Can we chat?
Mason cracked a smile and began to read. He knew NASA didn’t normally monitor personal emails that weren’t directly related to a mission. By the time he got to page three of the message, he hoped they wouldn’t make an exception now.
There was a wire frame design of the next craft. It was four times as long, twice as wide and three times as high. It had a curved, flight-capable exterior, stubby wings and twin opposing tails. It looked like a ship from a sci fi movie. In fact, Mason thought he recognized it from somewhere.
And there was an offer. Mason sucked his breath. The offer came with a general purpose of the new design, and its intent. He looked around guiltily and tapped a reply.
To boldly go… Only If I’m Picard.
Days later he would receive a response.
Riker and it’s a deal.
Mason read the response and frowned. He placed his tablet on a nearby wall, using the velcro they attached to everything on the ISS. He floated towards a window aperture. Outside, the stars were shining bright in the infinity of space. Mars was a blazing orange dot. His mission on the ISS would soon be ending, and there would be no more trips to space for him.
Beam me up.
He stared at the message he had just sent. The implications were setting in. There was so much to consider. Plans to be made. Cindy would join him, he knew from their fifteen years together. But there was still work to do. Better to let the whole thing linger for a while, he thought to himself.
***
Jack checked his communications alerts and rolled his eyes. He stood and walked to the cockpit. “I need you to redirect to Vancouver.”
The pilot looked at him.
“Not enough fuel. We’ll need to make a stop.”
“Do what you gotta do to get us there.”
Jack returned to his seat and added the new email contact to the monitoring list. Then he stared through his window at the mountains far below.
***
They were about ten minutes away from Alex’s father’s house, skimming the tree tops on a moonless night. They set the cargo container up against the far side of the hangar. No one would be the wiser.
Alex and the others snuck through the hangar side door that had been left ajar. In the corner, Alex’s father sat behind a small coffee table with a candle in a decorative statute. The hangar was largely empty, aside from the tool boxes and shelves that lined the walls. There was the partially deconstructed dark energy collector like a large, half-built satellite dish, and other equipment they had used to create their propulsion drive. It looked so useless Drake didn’t even think it was valuable. The older man handed over a manila envelope.
“Your account info is inside, with a card.” He looked into Alex’s eyes.
“Sir,” said Zeek, after a pause. “No disrespect or anything, but how do we know this is safe? There’s no way they aren’t watching you. If you transferred one hundred million dollars to a new account, you might as well put a GPS tracker on us.”
“Good question. That’s exactly how you need to think if you want to pull this off. The funds were transferred from about a dozen separate business, as part of regular operations, to about a dozen others. They in turn sent money to various corporate lawyers. Who deposited sums to an offshore account. Where a foreign lawyer transferred the money to a few more accounts. Which a different lawyer back in the US cashed and closed, before depositing the money into your LLC. It’s been well scrubbed. They could track it, of course. It would take years of judicial processing, and it would be circumstantial,” Drake finished. If Zeek was impressed, he refused to show it.
“So, if the account is frozen, it will be because they managed to find us some other way.”
“Exactly.” Drake hesitated before broaching the next topic. “How are you going to build the next one?”
“We’re going to buy some land. And then we’re going to put this on it.” Alex proffered a design they had been working on. It was sketched out on several sheets. Among the drawings, Drake spotted a large hangar and a series of buildings meant to receive supplies with maximum discretion. They were just the tip of the iceberg.
“It’s big,” Drake exhaled. “What are you going to say when people start asking questions?”
“We’re a startup, manufacturing various products,” Alex said, and Zeek nodded in agreement.
Drake pursed his lips as he considered the feasibility of the plan.
“It’s all meant to be temporary. Once we’re done, it won’t matter.” Alex continued.
“Right,” said Drake. There was another meaningful silence. “Good luck!” He stood up and hugged Alex lovingly. An uncharacteristic move, but not unwelcome.
Drake stepped aside, and there were several boxes stacked behind him.
“Water, food and other essentials. Just for the next week while you get set up.” He sniffed. “I should have packed you some clothes and deodorant. I would offer my shower, but the house is being monitored.”
Timmy, Zeek, and Jorge started taking boxes to the container, while Alex and Drake remained, looking at each other.
“Well… you should go,” Drake said, finally.
“Yeah. Listen, I am sorry I left you… after Mom.”
Drake’s eyes began to glisten, and he was thankful for the low light.
“When I read your note and you mentioned the army… I figured they would turn you into a man. Never expected you to come home so soon. What happened to all of that?”
“That’s a long story,” said Alex, darkly. “Perhaps next time.”
“Hm. Just don’t forget me when you’re famous,” his father smiled. He turned away and left the building.
Within moments, they were airborne again, heading south. Slipping through the darkness like a creature of the ocean depths. Reaching their destination, Jorge set the container down in another wooded area, adding to the many dents and scratches on the exterior that came from not being able to see through anything but a small section of the door.
When they finally settled on the forest floor, they felt a sort of finality. None of them was prepared for what was to come.
***
Jack waited in front of Hammond’s desk at the main NSA building. His operation so far was a failure, and he expected the director was questioning his worth. Hammond was taking his time reviewing a report on his team’s activities in Canada asking locals about strange objects flying in the sky.
“So it was a ruse,” said Hammond, slowly and deliberately. “or you have no more leads.”
“Actually, sir, we’re investigating the father, Drake. His accounts recently transferred over one hundred million towards various business enterprises. I am tasking people to begin tracking those funds.”
“He’s a millionaire, isn’t he? He can keep his ass covered when it comes to money. What you’re telling me is you’ve got nothing. And I’ve got a boardroom full of people who are going to be just thrilled to hear that, Morris… Advise me of any updates.”
Chapter 4
A Year Lost
A year had passed. Alex shook his head at the lack of progress. When they had landed the Surprise a year ago, they never left the property. Once the main building was constructed, they never left that. They were afraid they would get noticed in public. All purchase orders were made under the limited liability company Drake had created for them.
They should have finished the shipping hub by now. Despite the late clause in the contract, the construction company seemed to be in no hurry. This time they were delayed while materials were moved to make room for another delivery of sheet metal.
Alex spotted Jorge and Timmy sharing food in a nearby office space. After months of nonstop work, they didn’t mind the odd breaks the shipping issues had created for them.
The ship itself had evolved somewhat, growing to meet their morphing ambitions. The first design called for seven rooms of various sizes. Now it was more than twenty rooms across three floor
s, with access ways for repairs, piping and conduits. There was a command center that Zeek called the bridge. There was a briefing room, sleeping quarters, a dining room, food storage and a kitchen. Two separate cargo bays, a maintenance bay, a repair room, a medical room, the computer server room, a media room, two labs with their own storage, the EVA room, and a hangar bay.
There was disagreement about the last one. The only other vessel they had was the Surprise, but it could also be attached to the exterior of the ship freeing up a lot of interior space.
Two months after Mason and his team came back from the ISS, the Commander visited for a tour of the new vessel. Mason found several flaws and provided ideas that the young builders had missed. Now they had things like a fire suppression system, breach kits and emergency oxygen tanks.
Mason wished he could have stayed to help build the ship, but his absence would have been noticed by NASA. There wasn’t time to discuss important things like safety procedures that would require lengthy and tedious conversations. Mason intended to leave NASA, but only at the right time.
Finally, the sheet metal was dropped off, and Zeek used a forklift to move it into the hangar. Alex shifted his attention to the new compartments he was adding to the incomplete craft. It resembled a metal skeleton of some gigantic, prehistoric beast.
He returned to his sparsely furnished office.
“If we keep adding length, we’re going to have to expand several subsystems, especially air exchange,” said Jorge, sipping a coffee.
“None of us have ever designed a space-worthy vessel before. We are learning as we go,” said Alex, without looking up.
“Actually, we did.” He nodded to a picture on the wall. It was a shot Cindy had taken from inside the ISS.
“The Surprise isn’t space-worthy and you know it,” Alex grumbled.
“Maybe we should get some NASA people to take a look at the new model,” Jorge said, knowing the response.
“There are too many people involved as it is. If we keep it up, we’ll have feds everywhere.”
“And if we go into space without the right equipment, we could die.” Jorge took another sip of coffee. “Timmy wants to have a meeting tonight.” He looked at Alex to gauge his reaction, but Alex was expressionless. “He says we need procedures and a chain of command.”
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