Grayson had a raised eyebrow as Brogan finished the call. His curiosity was obvious, but he wasn’t certain if Brogan considered him someone he’d share more sensitive information with before he’d officially joined the BII and swore an oath of some sort. He’d momentarily forgotten that he’d heard the BII had warrantless authority to arrest anyone that failed to cooperate. Grayson wanted to work with them, but the issue of Stiles cooperating with the BII was a potential showstopper for him.
Brogan seemed to sense his mood. “Look, Dan, I’m going to share what we’re learning about Stiles because I think you not only would make an excellent agent but because you want your family protected and I can help you do that. Hector learned from a Stiles employee, the same one that your friend Roger tracked to his condominium, that Stiles flew out of Louisville this morning, certainly while we were parked here next to the rental car lots for the terminal building. Based on the time of his flight we’ll be able to determine which flight he may have been aboard and where he went.
“Mike obtained cooperation to search Stiles old home where he grew up. He and his mother stayed there after his father’s death for a few years, before he learned how to earn money from insurance fraud, a time when he had people commit robberies for him. It’s a rental property now, and Mike offered the current tenants three month’s rent to let him search, rather than compel them to do so. The old house had imitation thin pine wood style paneling in several rooms, and one must have been Stiles bedroom. Mike noticed one panel under a window ledge was loose, having pulled away from the small finishing nails, and the panel then pushed back in place over the nail heads. He pulled the panel away from the inch-thick furring strips and discovered a couple of yellowed school style ringed notebooks hidden there, which were left behind when Stiles and his mother moved away when he was a sophomore in high school. Mike started reading the oldest one, and he’s bringing them here. Stiles has been homicidal since the day he discovered what he could do. He described himself as a sociopath, but I think it’s worse than that. He used his ability to plan the murder of his father at age thirteen.
“His second notebook, which Mike only glanced through, was written when he was fifteen and sixteen. He called the people he directed to commit crimes on his behalf his Tools. He used a capital “T” for the word. He was using other people as buffers to distance himself from some of this Tools, and he called them Shields, with a capital “S.” They’re people that he uses repeatedly, he pays them to recruit Tools with criminal skills. Tools rarely know who Stiles is, and some Shields only deal with him by phone or notes left at drops. In general, Stiles thinks of the rest of humanity as Susceptibles, again using a capital “S” for the word. He eventually believed he was alone in the world, and everyone else was a Susceptible that he could use as a Shield or a Tool.
He’s cagey but arrogant in his notes, and he describes himself as a Controller, with a capital “C.” His first notebook described when did research to find out if there were other people like himself. After that, he wrote detailed results of his practice at forcing people to do what he wanted and hurting them, including his first sexual exploits. He wrote about a necessary cleanup of a cheerleader because she was pregnant.”
“Clean up? Do you think he killed her?”
“Yes. Stiles apparently made the girl jump off a bridge over the Ohio River on the Louisville side, upriver of the dam and power plant. He assumed if catfish ate her that the fetus couldn’t be connected to him if no one found her body. We’ll check missing person records from that year, and from his high school. If he made her jump against her will, he’s stronger than a Compeller. If he’s a double, then the word Controller might just be the proper term for him.”
****
Two hours later, after the three of them perused the notebooks, handwritten with the spelling errors and grammatical mistakes expected from a thirteen and fourteen-year-old boy in the first notebook. Then his gradually improved writing and language of a kid of fifteen and sixteen, who had gained confidence in his ability to control the world around him.
Apparently, after that, he’d stopped keeping notes, and had moved away from his first experiments of forcing Tools to steal or commit robberies. They were made to hide the money in a secure location, only for the thief to lose the stash to the person that made them forget they had even done the crime.
Robbing a 7-11 or a liquor store didn’t score very much money because during the day the clerks slid excess cash through a slot in safes they didn’t know how to open. A bank robbery went bad when a silent alarm nearly caught him in the ring of police cars that swooped in on the bank to arrest his Tool. He swore off that method of earning money.
Stiles next means of obtaining money proved to be safer and more profitable, and after that, he stopped keeping notes. He quit writing about the repetitive lessons he’d learned in the second notebook when he made what proved to be a final entry, which explained his shift to insurance fraud. His mother, after a long legal fight, won a large (to Stiles, at that age) insurance settlement based on his father’s death by a hit and run truck driver. An accidental death that Stiles had engineered himself. The big payoff was a lesson learned.
Stiles notes revealed that he was a murderous and completely unsympathetic person who displayed no compunction against sacrificing a Tool or a victim to see if he could increase the amount of cash in a theft. He’d promptly give up a compromised Tool to face arrest for the robberies he made them do, or he’d force them to shoot a reluctant clerk in a kneecap to induce cooperation. It was his need to be near enough to control the Tool and often the victim, that drew unwanted attention to himself. ATM cameras had seen him, as well as parking lot cameras at convenience stores with gas pumps, and at liquor stores. His control ability thwarted the investigations, and he ordered videotapes erased or lost, and eliminated witnesses, but the cleanup process was what he considered an irritation and a sign of his inefficiency.
It was Stiles cleanup, to eliminate the depressed pregnant year older cheerleader, whom he’d forced into sexual submission, which became the final straw for Brogan.
“She asked him for money for an abortion, and it was cheaper for him to drive her to the bridge and order her to jump, despite her fear of heights and not knowing how to swim. His notes show he was proud of his subterfuge of convincing her she was on a swimming pool platform. Per his notes, it was a technique he’d been practicing and had perfected.
“Stiles is a psychopath, and I could never count on him to comply with any limits placed on his behavior. He has no conscience nor feels any remorse. He’s too dangerous to let live. I can’t imagine anything that would be worse than recruiting him as a BII agent, free to kill without prosecution.”
Grayson was relieved, and couldn’t agree more. They were about to discover worse things were coming than they imagined.
****
Brogan assigned one of his Compellers, Dalia Nadeer, to work with Louisville FBI Special Agent Marion Claudel. Their task was to trace Stiles’ flight from Louisville that morning, despite his name not appearing on any outbound passenger manifests. Experience has shown that the newness and small size of the BII often delayed their civil investigations because of questions about their credentials. An accompanying FBI agent bypassed that delay, and Claudel was already aware of the BII’s interest in Stiles, if not precisely why.
Nadeer told her boss, “I think Stiles was most likely on a morning flight to JFK, under an assumed name. Agent Claudel obtained passenger lists for that flight and two others within the proper time frame, and one went to Atlanta and the other to Charlotte. I picked JFK because I logged into our Washington network to check the Interesting Events status board, and read that one of our news analysists reported a bizarre shooting death of a federal witness this afternoon, who suddenly reversed his previous sworn testimony on the stand, and then tried to escape. An off-duty New York cop shot him thirteen times and claimed he was ordered to do it by someone high up in a New York crime famil
y, the Bonanno organization. The trial was a Racketeering case against a Genovese crime family member in the federal courthouse in Manhatten. It doesn’t seem plausible that the Bonanno family would help a member of a rival crime family using such a public execution. It has the hallmarks of possible Compeller influence. If Stiles went there, he could have been involved.
“Obviously, his airline check-in and passing a TSA identity check using a false name is trivial with his ability. He can be whoever he says he is. Special Agent Claudel has obtained access to look at the surveillance camera recordings of the TSA checkpoints for the three concourse gates of the airlines involved. She doesn’t know why I made JFK the highest priority to watch, but she’s seen Grayson’s pictures of Stiles. She’s watching that recording for me now.”
Brogan was working on speaker phone for Grayson’s benefit, who was filling out paperwork for his future employer. The superintendent stayed on a first name basis with his small force of agents, none of which had prior law enforcement or national security experience before he recruited them. That was another reason Grayson was such a valued discovery. Dan didn’t need the same training in the fundamentals of carrying and using a gun as the others had required.
“Dalia, do you think his visit could be mob connected? It appears from the interrogation of one of his contacts that a year ago he graduated from small insurance fraud in Jeffersonville to major corporate scale fraud in Louisville. Per his middlemen named Collier, he said under Mike’s compulsion that Stiles had moved towards offering his unique services to those that could pay him for delivering what no one else could provide. It was a high priced contract type service offered to criminal enterprises.
“I suggested that because earlier this week a Chicago news story made the Interesting Events report. I sent Angelo there to investigate, but he didn’t find an obvious Compeller link, despite a shocking anti-crime politician’s public reversal, and his sudden support for a large contract award to a company with supposed mob ties. It could be his new business model.”
Grayson signed another from a stack of government forms, and said, “If he comes back as soon as he completes a job, he may return in the morning, or possibly later tonight. Perhaps we could meet him as he leaves the aircraft on his way home.”
He waved at the stack of papers. “I signed and filled out a stack of that damned paperwork, so when will I be sworn in, and get my guns back? You made it clear that Stiles is too dangerous and erratic to let live. You have yourself and me as Immunes already at the airport, and Dalia as a Compeller, so we should be able to handle one overconfident Controller that isn’t expecting trouble. I think an armed FBI agent that he can control is too risky to join us.”
If Grayson was honest with himself, he wasn’t thinking of national security. Stiles had murdered his three friends. It was personal, and the legal system he’d believed in all his career was helpless to deliver justice.
Listening to Grayson, Brogan went a terminal to use a software tool that provided access to airline schedules and their current flight status. After a couple of minutes, he said, “If he’s on his way back tonight, there were no direct flights from the New York area on any airline, but there are four flights from three New York area airports for multiple airlines, which make connections before reaching Louisville. He didn’t use his real name to book the morning flight, and he may not use the same false name again, so we can’t tell in advance if he’s on any of the flights for tonight.”
“OK. Can we meet all four flights, and wait near the gates? They probably won’t all arrive at the same time.”
Brogan nodded. “We have at least three hours. None of the inbound flight's legs are shorter than six hours with stops and plane changes. I’ll recall the four agents in Jeffersonville in time to be here at Louisville before any of the flights arrive. I hope he was paid well for his work. There won’t be any more like that.”
“What about all the money he’s already amassed?”
“Forfeiture. I’ve frozen all of Stiles bank and brokerage accounts, and all his property will be seized and auctioned off. He has three surviving grandparents that since his mother died have not seen or heard from him, and are grateful for that. I doubt he has an honest dollar in his possession after he spent the insurance money paid to his mother. Come to think of it, that was his first insurance scam since his earliest notebook says he murdered his father. Perhaps we can reimburse some of his victim's families. The BII doesn’t need his cash; I have a much larger budget.”
“Hey, you never said what the job pays, Mister Big Bucks Superintendent. Does it match the FBI’s pay scale? I’d love a raise from my former LMPD pay.”
“Fine. Although I’d hate to pay you less than my other agents, I can cut back to match the lower pay scale of the FBI if you wish. We pay better than a senior agent earns at GS-15, top of the steps. Plus a lot of overtime, and you’ll have liberal travel expenses.”
“Oh. OK. I guess I’ll have to settle for the higher pay. Dang, it.” He’d signed up on principle, not thinking about the pay. He had his police retirement, and his firm’s investigations had paid modestly well, even split with his junior partners, but he wasn’t affluent.
Two hours later, the remainder of the agents had arrived at the command post, ready to spread out through the terminal to the arrival gates they intended to watch. But only after an informal swearing in of the newest BII agent.
“When do I get a shiny gold badge with an eagle on top?”
“Patience. They cost money. I want to be sure you’re worth the investment. Here’s a temporary laminated picture ID.” That came courtesy of a digital photo and a device attached to a computer that produced a plastic card with a magnetic stripe and a holographic BII logo.
Grayson reached for it, asking, “Temporary? Having second thoughts or is there a probationary period I have to pass?”
“You’ll have a clothing allowance. Buy a good suit and tie; then we’ll take another picture. You need a shave, and your clothes are casual, to say the least.”
Grayson looked around at the better-dressed agents in the command post. “Well, at least I didn’t have to start as a beat cop in a uniform this time.”
Hector handed him his Glock and ankle gun, grinning. “You have a weapons allowance too, but you started out pretty well in that regard. I’d never owned a firearm before joining the BII.”
They shook hands all around and welcomed the new agent, and they were about to exit from the command post and walk across a rental car lot to the terminal, in ample time to meet the first flight scheduled to arrive with passengers that connected through Charlotte from New York. It was due to arrive in less than an hour.
Dalia’s phone rang, and she stepped away to answer, but immediately turned back after listening for a moment. “Wait! Agent Claudel says one of the flights we were waiting for just made an unannounced landing at the Cincinnati airport.”
She continued to listen, and relay what she heard. “It never spoke to Air Traffic control before making an unauthorized descent and landed, forcing another flight to break off an approach.” She paused.
“The FAA’s Command Center notified the Air Force when the aircraft started what appeared to be a controlled but rapid descent, and the flight crew wouldn’t answer radio calls. It was an assumed hijacking in progress, as happened on 9/11.” Another pause.
“Fighters sent from Wright-Patterson didn’t arrive before the landing. Agent Claudel heard about it because the FBI was notified to send all available agents to the scene to interview passengers and crew. Local police are responding now, with the airport emergency equipment. They’ll get the people a safe distance away, then hold them for questioning. People are reported to be running away from the aircraft in all directions, ignoring instructions.”
“Shit!” Grayson slammed a closed fist down on a console. “He’s getting away. Stiles did this. He made the flight crew land and sent passengers running in a panic to cover his escape. He knew not to land here.”
Orville voiced what several agents probably wondered. “How would he know? He’s out of range anyone that knew we were waiting.” Thinking of his mental psych range.
“Not of a phone call,” Brogan interjected. “He probably heard from someone on the ground. There are phones on newer aircraft, and he may also have had cell phone coverage. He may have learned we were asking his Shields questions, even if they were Compelled to forget.”
Grayson had another thought. “His bank accounts were just frozen. If he used a credit card, it might have been declined, and he called to check on the reason. Or someone, like an accountant that helps hide his illicit income notified him. Regardless, he’s in the wind now, and it will be Hell finding him if he makes people see a false image. I doubt he had all his money in the bank either.”
****
Stiles was in a murderous rage. He’d called his accountant while he was in Charlotte to confirm if the three million had been deposited in his account while he was flying from New York. He had previously called him from JFK and told him to contact the Shield he used for his link to The Committee for the five families. He first thought his clients had failed to make the transfer to the special numbered account his accountant used, which would prove fatal to them all. However, while he sat on the plane on the taxiway, he had a second call that clarified the problem. The deposit had arrived in the proper account, but it was the transfer to any account that Stiles could directly access that revealed that all his accounts were frozen. It was a federal order to the banks.
Controller: Controller Trilogy, Book 1 Page 15