Her Silent Shadow: A Gripping Psychological Suspense Collection

by Edwin Dasso

  Alex blinked at her phone, dropping it to her side for a moment as she stepped out onto the patio of the rental house. Her view was a range of mountains in the distance, a blue sky that was crystalline in its clarity. The air was crisp and cool, thanks to Fall descending on the region. Maybe even a little too chilly. She hugged her arms to her chest.

  There was no reason to chat with Dr. Kotler.

  Except…

  She knew that Dr. Kotler and Agent Denzel were the ones who had brought down FBI Director Crispen, half a decade earlier. That had nothing to do with Alex, and was no skin off her nose. Except for the fact that it was that series of events which had put Agent Eric Symon’s career in a tailspin. He was only just recovering from all of it, getting his reputation back slowly. There was still some distrust of him at the FBI, despite being cleared of all wrongdoing.

  Kotler and Denzel had basically put Symon in a dark place for a long time. It was a little too relatable, even if mostly from a metaphorical sense.

  Alex knew that Kotler and Denzel hadn’t done anything intentional or malicious. And hell, Agent Symon seemed to be working past his own hangups about the two, at least enough to work with them.

  Such a professional, Alex thought. He’d never let a grudge keep him from doing his job. Never do anything that personal.

  She paused. I would, though. I guess I’m kind of holding a grudge on his behalf.

  She smiled, then laughed, then shook her head.

  All of this might be reason enough to talk to Dr. Kotler, to size him up and see what he was all about.

  She looked at her phone again and typed her reply.

  I’ll talk to him. Give him this URL.

  She typed in a string of numbers and characters that would lead Dr. Kotler to a video chat room. It was completely secure, encrypted with the most advanced AI software on the planet. When their talk was done, it would cease to exist.

  She followed that text with a specific time for the chat, and when she was done, she started dressing the room. She hung blankets to form a sound barrier all around her laptop, as well as to hide the art and decor of the room.

  It was possible, she knew, to identify rooms like this one from online listings. Room decor could act like a fingerprint, allowing the FBI to run an image recognition search from a video still, comparing it to online listings until it started producing matches. It would be time consuming, without the aid of QuIEK, but it could be done. And any lead might be enough to put them closer to her than she preferred.

  She wouldn’t take any chances.

  She also turned on a recording of cityscape sounds from Los Angeles. More camouflage, in case someone tried audio forensics, matching her soundscape to a database of audio files recorded in various locations. Another long, tedious route to tracking a fugitive that she could do in seconds. But someone could get lucky, especially if they assumed she was in Los Lunas.

  With the fake audio track running, though, anyone monitoring and analyzing the audio would be thrown off of her trail. Which was just how she liked it.

  After more preparation, and way more paranoia, she was finally ready for her chat with Dr. Kotler.

  She sat facing her laptop, which was connected to a hotspot that was then routed through a virtual network of her own design, a system she referred to as “Smokescreen,” with modules and relays stashed in spots all over the country. If it were possible for anyone to trace the video chat from the URL she’d provided—which it was not—they’d have a hard time pinning down even a region of the country, much less her exact location. She could be in Poughkeepsie or on the moon, for all anyone knew.

  Feeling secure, she waited. She was curious what the archaeologist had to say. Sitting there, waiting, the whole thing felt very momentous—as if two protagonists were about to meet in a first-ever crossover.

  Soon enough the wait was over, there was a chime from the site, and Alex Kayne clicked the button to start the call.

  Dr. Dan Kotler appeared on screen.

  Kotler had closed himself off in his hotel room, pulling the curtains and even playing some music for white noise.

  From what he’d learned about Alex Kayne, she was incredibly intelligent, unendingly resourceful, and paranoid to a level that would make conspiracy theorists look like Instagram celebrities. He wanted her to feel comfortable talking to him, but he knew it would take time. Chatting with her in private was his first, best guess at where to start.

  Of course, it would help if Agent Symon were a little more forthcoming with details—and a little less passive-aggressive.

  Liz had warned Kotler that the Agent might not be…

  How did she put it?

  “As warmly receptive to you as everyone else is.”

  Kotler had laughed. “Right. Everyone I meet considers me their bestie. Academia practically has me blacklisted, and half the archaeology community wants to strangle me.”

  “No more than Director Crispen might want to. I’m sorry… former Director Crispen.”

  Kotler blinked.

  Matthew Crispen had been the Director of the Manhattan branch of the FBI when Kotler had first started working with the agency. Though “working with the agency” might be something of a stretch. Kotler had more or less been extorted into helping the FBI track down a terrorist cell that had stolen an ancient medallion. Crispen had been tied to aiding the organization, and to playing a role in the kidnapping of Kotler’s former girlfriend—Dr. Evelyn Horelica.

  The kidnapping, Kotler’s recruitment, his entire role in the investigation had all been part of the ruse meant to frame him for Crispen’s own crimes.

  In the end, Kotler had met and teamed up with Agent Roland Denzel, and the two of them had managed to stop a terrorist attack that would have killed millions. They recovered both Kotler’s ex and the stolen Coelho Medallion, and a partnership was born.

  Things had come together remarkably well for Kotler. The entire affair had led to him becoming a full-time consultant for the FBI, and a founding member of Historic Crimes.

  But it had also put Director Matthew Crispen in prison.

  “What does Crispen have to do with Agent Symon?” Kotler had asked.

  Liz sighed. “Symon was Crispen’s golden boy. He recruited Agent Symon into the FBI and was grooming him for big things. Symon was… is… the best fugitive hunter in the Bureau, but his career got derailed after Crispen was arrested. He was accused of collaborating with Crispen, and it took years to clear his name. He’s only just recovering.”

  Kotler considered this. It was sobering, to learn that Agent Symon had borne the fallout of Crispen’s arrest. Kotler had never even considered that someone else in the Bureau might have been negatively impacted by Crispen’s crimes.

  He felt terrible for what the agent had gone through.

  But he couldn’t be blamed for it. That was just absurd.

  Except…

  Kotler sighed. He knew as well as anyone that logic and reason had little to do with grudges like these. It might be irrational, but blaming Kotler for his miseries was a pretty natural outcome for Agent Symon. It might not be fair, but Kotler figured it was at least understandable.

  It did explain why Symon seemed so cold toward him and Agent Denzel.

  Kotler had made a note to circle up with Roland later, and maybe the two of them could take Symon out for a drink. Coffee. Or something stronger. Maybe find a way to set the record straight at least, clear the air if not make things right.

  For now, however, Kotler had a video chat ahead of him, with perhaps one of the most intriguing women he’d heard of in a long time. He had no idea what to expect—the briefing he’d gotten on Alex Kayne had definitely piqued his interest, though. From everything he’d learned, she was brilliant and clever. She had, after all, managed to elude the FBI’s best fugitive hunter, not to mention every law enforcement agency in the world, and stay out of a cell for more than two years running.

  Impressive work. Definitely someone Kotler had to m
eet.

  Agent Symon had sent Kotler the URL in a text message, and Kotler opened it now from the Messages app on his iPad. The screen was black for a moment, and then the face of an attractive woman appeared. She was sitting in…

  Kotler blinked.

  “Are… are you in a blanket fort?” he asked.

  The woman on screen also blinked, then laughed. She cleared her throat and shook her head. “No. But points for thinking out of the box, Dr. Kotler. Of course, going by your FBI profile, thinking out of the box is kind of your thing, isn’t it?”

  Kotler smiled. “No more than you, I hear. I’ve read your file, too. Impressive. Your use of quantum states for hyper-parallel processing is pretty inspired.”

  Kayne looked impressed. “You say that like you understand what it means.”

  Kotler grinned. “I have a second PhD, in Quantum Mechanics.”

  Kayne smiled. “I know. Polymath. Pretty cool. You’re also a savant with reading body language, I hear.”

  Kotler blinked. “That made it into the file? I thought most people thought it was a myth.”

  “It made it into emails,” she replied. “And text messages. And a few personal journal entries.”

  Kotler’s eyebrows went up, and he felt a strange chill in his guts. He dismissed it. From what he’d learned, Kayne certainly had the ability to snoop into personal files and private communications. And, apparently, her morals were flexible enough to allow it.

  How could he blame her? This was a woman whose existence depended on knowing more than everyone else, at all times. Kotler tried to imagine what he would do, if he were in her position. He couldn’t say that he’d stick around helping people, out of the kindness of his heart. He loved people—loved humanity—but mostly as a subject.

  He was pretty sure he’d be firmly ensconced some place off the map and off the grid, with no extradition treaty.

  Kotler nodded at the screen, still studying her face. He could see that she was trying to remain controlled, keeping her features neutral. “Face lying,” he called it. But that was fine. Ironic, but fine.

  After all, she could use her super power to know intimate things about him. He could hardly be blamed for gleaning as much as he could from her facial twitches, the hold of her shoulders, the rigidity of how she was sitting.

  She was keeping herself in check, but still screaming a lot about herself, without even realizing.

  Kotler smiled. This seemed to be going well, though Kayne was being a little stand-offish. He thought he knew why. Aside from being a fugitive, she also had very limited contact. And one of those she related to the most was Agent Eric Symon.

  She would know that Kotler played a role in the events that had put Symon’s career off track.

  “I’ve seen other work in quantum encryption,” Kotler said, “but nothing like what you’ve done with Quick.”

  “Quake,” she corrected, then paused. “Although now that you say it, maybe I should have gone with quick. It probably would make more sense, considering. I tend to have to make a fast exit.”

  Kotler chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. Given how you’ve shaken things up, quake works just as well.”

  She returned a light laugh, then seemed to hesitate, inhaling and sighing. “Ok, so we’ve had a nice little introduction here. I know Eric has shown you the work I did, deciphering the content of that text. What do you need me to do for you?”

  Kotler shook his head, smiling. “It’s not like that. I didn’t want to talk about what you can do for me. I wanted to ask what I could do for you.”

  She blinked. “What… do you mean?”

  “You tracked down the site in Los Lunas. The Pit. Roland—Agent Denzel—is putting together an expedition to that facility. Agent Symon and Agent Mayher are tagging along. But from what I’ve learned about you, I’d think you would want to be there as well.”

  She laughed again. “Yeah, pretty impossible. I don’t have any issues with sneaking into a top secret military base, defunct or otherwise. But unfortunately I’m not in a position to do it with a bunch of FBI agents surrounding me. I’d mostly end up being a permanent resident at some other top secret government facility.”

  “Not just FBI,” Kotler said.

  “Excuse me?” Kayne replied.

  “It’s not just FBI. Historic Crimes is a multi-agency task force. There are a couple of CIA agents, one NSA agent, and some people who work for agencies I haven’t even heard of. Plus the civilian operatives, like me and Dr. Rivers.”

  “All the more reason to avoid the place, then,” Kayne replied, her expression strange.

  Kotler nodded. “I agree. Still, I’ve seen your file. You might be a bigger asset than any of them. We have no idea what’s in that place—as you pointed out, the records go cold in the 90s. The only hint was the phrase ‘quantum encrypt,’ which is your bailiwick. That’s a lot of unknowns, and I’m not big on going into situations with so little foreknowledge. Personally, I’d like to have you there.”

  “Again,” Kayne replied, spreading her hands and leaning back, “not really possible. Not with so many people ready to arrest me on the spot.”

  “Ready to arrest Alex Kayne,” Kotler said.

  “Right,” Kayne replied.

  “But not Dr. Alicia Carter.”

  Kayne shook her head. “Who’s that?”

  Kotler laughed. “Well, you, if you do the work to set up her identity.”

  Kayne stared at him. “You want me to come on this little mission in disguise? With an assumed identity?”

  “Isn’t it something you’ve done before?” Kotler asked.

  “Sure,” Kayne replied. “Something I do almost daily. Just… not under these circumstances.”

  Kotler nodded, hesitated, then said, “I looked over the files you found, about the Pit. The project was abandoned in the 90s, but even for that decade, things were pretty advanced. Half of what you sent us is actually classified information. I don’t think the agents have realized it yet.”

  “I wouldn’t tell them,” Kayne warned.

  Kotler chuckled again, shaking his head. “No worries. What I’m thinking is that if the systems in that place are still active, still powered up, we might need someone who can talk their language. Or who controls an AI that can talk their language.”

  Kayne thought for a moment. “You want me there so I can use QuIEK, if I have to.”

  “I’m something of a contingency planner,” Kotler shrugged. “And I can see this contingency becoming something nasty. The last thing I want is for us to be trapped in that place with no way out, thanks to some outdated computer system, or some nasty bit of tech we weren’t aware of.”

  Kayne thought again and nodded. “Ok. Let me think about this.”

  “It’s all I ask,” Kotler nodded.

  “So… you started this by asking what you could do for me,” Kayne said.

  Kotler arched his eyebrows. “You’ve thought of something?”

  “I have,” Kayne said. “The Decalogue stone…”

  Kotler waited, then shook his head, his expression quizzical. “What about it?”

  “I had QuIEK run it through a database of ancient languages. Best match was ancient Hebrew. And the translation… well, it was kind of… familiar.”

  Kotler smiled. “The Ten Commandments,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not exactly. I mean, yes, sort of. Close. But… how is that possible? How is there a stone with ancient Hebrew on it, in 1930s New Mexico?”

  Kotler huffed, shaking his head. “Some people say it’s a fake.” He hesitated, looking at her on screen.

  “Do you think it’s fake?” Kayne asked.

  Kotler hesitated a bit more, then shrugged. “I can’t honestly say. I’ve never examined it directly, only from photos.”

  This didn’t seem to satisfy her, and Kotler could see it by her expression.

  He sighed again. “If you’re asking me if I think there’s the possibility of it being real… I’d hav
e to say, yes.”

  This time it was Kayne’s turn to arch her eyebrows. “Yes? Wow. So… how is that possible?”

  Kotler leaned forward on his elbows. “There are a lot of strange bits of history in this region. A few years ago, I was part of a dig that revealed the presence of a Viking settlement in Pueblo, Colorado. I was also part of an exploration to retrieve an ancient plant from a cave in the Mojave Desert—a cave filled with Greek artifacts and writing. And I’ve personally explored a Celtic god’s tomb in Egypt, where it definitely does not belong. The world is filled with out-of-place history.”

  “Sounds like you tend to find a lot of it,” Kayne said.

  “Seems that way,” Kotler nodded, smiling.

  She thought for a moment more. “I was brought into this because of a single phrase in the text message—quantum encrypt. So far, I haven’t found any sign of anything that resembles quantum encryption.”

  “Maybe it’s something Dr. Rivers found when she uncovered the Pit,” Kotler replied.

  Kayne nodded. “Maybe. Which sounds like a good enough reason for me to tag along, if I can.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Kotler replied.

  “Good. But that really only leaves one big question mark, and it’s the oddest one.”

  “The man with the face tattoo,” Kotler nodded.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Kayne asked.

  Kotler shook his head. “No idea. But sounds like the kind of thing that could lead to trouble.”

  Kayne laughed, shaking her head. “Judging from the expression on your face, it seems like trouble might be the most attractive part of this for you.”

  Kotler’s expression was wry and knowing. “You too, I’m betting.”

  She smiled, shook her head, and sighed. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Kotler. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait!” He tried to stop her before she clicked off, but it was too late. The screen went dark, and the page Kotler had surfed to refreshed. Now it displayed a “404 Not Found” message, indicating that no such website existed. The URL was a dud.