The Premise

by Andy Crossfield

  "I admit, I enrage people," Jack said as he cast a quick glance and smile toward Colleen. "But I always explain myself, nobody ever goes away mad, I do it for research, that’s all."

  "You’re an enrager?" Willis asked with a puzzled look on his face.

  "It’s a long story," Colleen said as she interrupted and flashed her violet eyes back at Jack.

  "Well, I don’t want to alarm you further Dr. Baker, but from what we can piece together, you are their target. There’s a good chance Dr. Colder here was only attacked because of a perceived relationship with you. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you, or impede your work… perhaps a spurned lover or disgruntled colleague or…"

  The words 'spurned lover' hovered in the air for an uncomfortably long time. Colleen had to make a point of physically mouthing her denial before Jack gave up his stare and returned his focus to the conversation.

  "I know this is difficult, Dr. Baker, but it is important. Please try, …you are after all our best lead." Willis looked up as Jason Mathews entered the room and handed him a piece of paper.

  "All I know is I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket! And in the space of three days, I’m the target of two muggings, my lab is trashed, an old friend may be dead…" Colleen suddenly stopped in mid-sentence as her words sparked a revelation.

  "What’s that?" Willis said as he looked up from the paper. "Did you remember something?"

  Colleen wore the look of sudden realization on her face, and seemed frozen by its meaning.

  She turned to Jack, her eyes wide, "You don’t think this could all tie in to Mark, do you?

  "Who’s Mark?" Willis asked.

  "Dr. Mark Moran." Colleen uttered distantly as she thought. "He’s one of my former professors, I was supposed to meet him…." Colleen stopped in mid-sentence again and whirled around grabbing the briefcase now sitting beside her.

  "This is, or at least was, his briefcase!" she said holding it tight to her chest.

  "Was?" Willis asked.

  "You may be onto something there Colleen," Jack said excitedly as he too began to put the pieces together. "It just made sense that you were the target, but maybe…"

  "Okay, will somebody start at the beginning, please?" Willis said as he saw them both working through the plot in their heads.

  "You’re going to need to sit down for this one Willis." Colleen said as she looked over at Jack for support. "I’m not sure you’ll believe me but I’ll tell you what I know."

  Colleen began telling Willis how she was to meet Mark in Vegas, but Kyle Preston showed up instead. She told him Kyle’s story, about the killings in the desert, his suspicion the military was involved, and how he had gone to turn himself in. She showed him the scorched briefcase and how Kyle said he found it beside Mark’s burned car, and how the sheriff had found nothing when they went out to investigate the scene.

  "Dr. Baker, do you have any way to get in touch with this Kyle Preston?" Willis asked.

  "Well, I have his cell number, I was just listening to a message from him when Jack appeared. I’m afraid it wasn’t much help though. He said he wanted to give me an update on what he found, but that it was 'complicated'."

  "One more thing," Willis said, holding up the paper Jason had brought in, "do either of you recognize this man?"

  "No" said Colleen, "who is he?"

  "He’s the second accomplice. How about you Dr. Colder?

  "Yeah! He was in my seminar, have you arrested him?"

  "No, he’s at large at the moment, but we have a lead on his car and have alerted LVPD.

  Willis took down Kyle’s number as well as Jack and Colleen’s, shook hands and was almost out the door when he stopped and turned, "Dr. Baker, I don’t normally say this to anyone, but we aren’t the police, so I can offer you this bit of advice. The contents of that briefcase are obviously very important to you. If you wish to keep them in your possession, I would suggest you leave town as quickly as you can. Otherwise, they’d probably be held as evidence when we file our report on this matter with LVPD."

  "I expect that to be in about two hours. Right now we’re turning our detainee over as just another low life that cases the tourists here at the hotel, but I assure you, it won’t be long before they read our report and piece together the pattern. I’ll be in touch with any new developments, of course."

  When Willis and Jason left, Jack jumped up and went into the bedroom, made a quick call and then began packing. "You’d better get a move on," he yelled to Colleen from the bedroom. "I got us a flight out to Chicago but we’ll have to hurry."

  Colleen got up to leave and ran into Tom Melvin in the hall.

  "Oh, hello, Mr. Melvin, as you can see, we found him!" She said with a beaming smile.

  Tom made his way toward Jack’s bedroom and almost tripped over the couch as he watched Colleen walk away. "Call me Tom!" he shouted after her.

  "Wow, Jack! She’s a real distraction!"

  "A bit of a change in plans, Tom. You mind going to Chicago tonight?"

  "With her? Not a bit!"

  "Good, she’s had a tough time of it. She was mugged right there in her room! She’s a strong one but she’s in trouble and…"

  "…and it doesn’t hurt that she’s drop dead gorgeous?" Tom injected, finishing Jack’s sentence.

  ‘Something like that…" Jack said with a smile. "Now go get packed, we need to get the hell out of here ASAP!"

  "I’m already packed! Equipment’s loaded and on it’s way to the plane. Guess I’ll just relax out there and enjoy the view!"

  Colleen soon returned with her bags and Mark’s briefcase just as Jack finished packing.

  "Wow, a woman on time!" Tom said in amazement.

  "Are you kidding?" said Colleen as she balanced Mark’s case on her rollerbag, "I’d fly the plane myself if it got us out of here any sooner!"

  "Yeah, I heard about the trouble you had here. Let’s face it, most of the time when you wake up on the floor in Vegas, at least you’ve enjoyed yourself the night before!" Tom said sympathetically.

  "Who said I didn’t?" Colleen replied. Her seductive smile sent Tom’s imagination into fits of fantasy just as Jack entered the room.

  "Didn’t what?" said Jack

  "Oh, nothing…. You ready to go?" Colleen blushed as she tried to change the subject.

  Pressed for time in their retreat from Las Vegas, the trio took a vote and decided against waiting for a bellman. They rolled their luggage to the elevator, through the lobby, and out to the curb, where a large black limo waited with an electronic sign in the window that read Colder.

  "Over there," Jack said, spotting the limo. "Right on time!"

  Jack checked his phone, replied to a text and the trunk popped open. Jack then loaded their bags into the cavernous trunk.

  "I’m surprised you can even get close to a trunk Jack! After your earlier experience with their, shall we say, darker side?" Tom chided, unable to resist needling him.

  "If my trunk this morning was this large, I’d have gotten more rest. Hell maybe I’d still be in there waiting for room service!" Jack said as he loaded the last of the luggage and slammed it closed.

  Jack checked his phone and entered a code into the door's keypad, and the doors opened. As they piled in the back, a computerized monotone voice from the drivers seat said "Good afternoon Mr. Colder. How was your stay in Las Vegas?"

  At that point, Colleen realized this was no ordinary limo. There was no driver!

  "Jack!" Colleen shrieked, "Is this what I think it is?"

  "Yep" said Jack smiling broadly, "its a Private Cab, I couldn’t resist the experience! They just rolled out the service here in Vegas last month. One of the first test markets in the nation… cool eh?"

  Initially, marketing a driverless taxi was a tall order. Even before their public release, blog stories circulated about "rogue" programs resulting in harrowing wrong-way trips down highways, stranded passengers in scary neighborhoods, and costly accidents becoming the fare’
s liability to pay off.

  Acceptance by the public dragged. After all, Private Cabs asked patrons to put their very life in the hands of a computer and GPS connection. When it came to trusting a computer to possess the same self-preservation skills as a human driver, well that was just a bit too much to expect. Too much, that is, until its developer, Charlie Stewart, put his life, and that of his family on the line. They converted a motor coach with the technology, removed the steering wheel and gas pedal, and planned a cross-country promotional tour with stops in fifteen major cities. Not only did they travel in comfort across 3,800 miles, they proved the safety and reliability of the concept.

  Still, sales to cab companies were slow until its developer came up with another solution, one that would be both a blessing and a curse on the technology. By late 2015, when most major cities around the world were beginning limited rollouts, they borrowed a slogan from another popular convenience, the American Dollar. 'Private Cabs: good for all transportation, public and private', caught on with everyone who had been squeezed and ogled on subways, crammed together on trains, and chatted to death in taxis. A little me time was the hook, and at much less expense than a traditional taxi ride.

  Ridership really took off in cities across the U.S. once word spread quickly that all sorts of items from famous people were being found in them, although stories later surfaced revealing the items were planted. Almost like a celebrity lottery, ordering a Private Cab suddenly held a certain mystique; and if celebrities had confidence in them, so too should everyone else.

  The rich and famous, as well as those just wishing to be alone, found the new cabs were the perfect answer to today’s maniacal world. In most large cities of the world, Private Cab, or its competitors, offered a discreet form of transportation at will, and ordered conveniently over the Internet. When the car arrived, a text was sent to the fare’s phone with the car’s door combination. Once in, the fare could direct the car wherever they wanted within a 40-mile perimeter. The car would drive automatically and allow the occupants to hold meetings, video conference calls, or surf the web, all while transporting the riders in luxury. To reinforce the privacy aspect of the contrivance, Private Cabs also took Bitcoin, the alternative, digital currency.

  For all the blessings that convenient, reliable, private transportation held for commuters, the curse soon followed. Like the introduction of the train in England almost two hundred years before, Private Cabs became popular with criminal elements eager to bend the new technology to their ends. Lured by the promotion of the concept of privacy, and in need of discreet transportation for themselves and their "inventory," they soon found many unforeseen ways to employ the next new thing.

  Soon a fare was as likely to be greeted by the pungent smell of pot or a discarded condom, rather than the cell phone of an absentminded film star or a briefcase from some titan of industry.

  Law enforcement had no tools to confront the corruption of the new technology. Investigations were stymied by the ease of unsavory patrons' ability to erase the histories of their stops. Soon enough the police had suspected organized crime figures were using them to create rolling brothels, and even sending them on ahead unoccupied as delivery mules for illicit drugs, weapons, or cash. But stopping a Private Cab was very tricky business indeed, and unless pot smoke or some other incriminator could be detected from outside the vehicle, their passage was virtually guaranteed. Private Cabs were programmed to obey all traffic laws, their navigational prowess insured they rarely if ever got in an accident, and they never broke down. The cabs withstood all sorts of challenges in the courts, each time emerging victorious; yet another maddening modern-day triumph for the Fourth Amendment.

  Colleen suddenly looked nervous. "No driver? Are you sure it’s safe?

  Jack nodded. "We took one in from the airport. No problems."

  ‘So, what is your name driver?" Jack said in a loud and deliberate voice toward the flashing panel on the dash.

  "I’m Claude," said the monotone voice, "but you can call me whatever you wish… do you still want to go to the airport?"

  "Yes, Claude, and can you tell us how long that will take?"

  "Current traffic conditions indicate 24 minutes, give or take fifteen seconds."

  "Claude, have you ever had an accident?" Jack asked, showing off the technology to ease Colleen’s fears.

  "No sir, not in 132 years of simulated driving."

  Tom leaned forward to investigate the source of the voice as Colleen mouthed '132 years?' to Jack in amazement.

  "Who changes a flat tire or handles a breakdown, Claude?" asked Tom.

  "This vehicle is equipped with run-flat tires and is serviced on a regular basis. I assure you it is safe."

  "What if you run out of gas?" Tom asked.

  "This vehicle is an electric hybrid. Current range is 432 miles. We should be able to make the airport… unless your request was for an airport in another city?"

  "No, your original destination will be fine…." Tom relented.

  There were several more questions asked of Claude, but everyone fell silent as soon as the limo pulled away from the hotel entrance and into heavy traffic. Watching the car signal and make turns, avoid aggressive drivers, and even change lanes with skill held their rapt attention for most of the trip, but gradually as one tricky situation after another was deftly handled, the conversation turned to Jack’s account of his kidnapping.

  Jack had barely gotten to the part where he used his watch’s glow to find the trunk release when they arrived at the airport.

  "Geez Jack, how long were you in that trunk anyway… fifteen minutes?" Tom said as he feigned stifling a large yawn.

  "Seems like this limo isn’t the only thing that’s stretched" Colleen added with a grin as she pushed Jack over with her shoulder.

  "See Claude? No sympathy at all from this crowd, but let’s just see how their tune changes when they start walking to Chicago!"

  The limo pulled to a stop and Colleen noticed the airport looked different. Then she saw the Henderson Executive Airport sign.

  "You chartered a plane for us?" Colleen said smiling back at Jack. "I was wondering how you got us a flight so fast!"

  "Not exactly," said Jack

  "He owns his own jet!" Tom blurted out, in a too-high and embarrassing voice.

  "It’s leased," Jack replied almost apologetically as he glanced over at Tom with a what is your problem look on his face.

  "It’s nice. Close quarters, but nice and we can get some work done on the way to Chicago, if you’d like." Jack said, intentionally talking over whatever Tom was saying in his defense.

  "What a thrill, Jack! But please tell me the plane has a pilot!" Colleen gushed, then turned serious at the prospect of a pilot-less plane.

  Jack started to make a joke but stopped when he saw she was sincere. "Yes, there’s a pilot, been with me for years. I insist on flying old school, and I make sure he has a loving family too, just to increase the odds of a safe trip!" Jack said smiling as the trio entered the lounge.

  There was bad weather between Vegas and Chicago, causing the pilot to make a 100-mile detour. The plane had just leveled off when Colleen’s phone rang.

  "Oh, I forgot to turn it off!" she said as she checked the call.

  "It’s Kyle! Is it safe to take it?

  "Sure," said Jack, "I talk all the time in flight, but realize you’ll get cut off when we get out into the desert."

  "Hello? Oh Kyle, is that you?"

  "Hi Dr. Baker, Did I call at a good time?"

  "Actually, the best! We’re flying to Chicago on Jack’s jet! What have you got?"

  "Well, as I said in my message, its complicated. I’m spending my nights at the prison, for my own protection really. As I told you, it looks more and more like Hank Caswell is behind this."

  Colleen’s expression turned somber which drew Tom and Jack’s attention, hoping to catch a clue as to what was being said.

  "It’s dicey since he’s the CEO of ReformCo
, remember? That’s the prison company that runs Crimson Desert, and he’s a real dirtbag. I’m keeping my distance from him. Remember when I told you all the evidence was missing?"

  ‘How could I forget it!" Colleen said.

  "Well, we found it buried in the desert. There’s talk around here that Hank had a work crew leave out early the morning Mark died to do some digging in the desert. I’ve been out to the area twice now, and even though they made it look like roadwork, we found the wreckage and lots of bodies buried out there. I’m trying to get the prison work records to prove it."

  ‘Oh, Kyle," Colleen said relieved her once faltering faith in Kyle was restored.