by Jeramy Gates
She checked the time. It was one p.m.
Nearly two hours later, traffic finally started to roll again. It was mid-afternoon, and Val still had more than an hour of driving to get back to Matt’s place. She called him to apologize. He was his usual forgiving self. He also had good news.
“I’ve broken into several files,” Matt said, barely able to contain his excitement. “I’m just starting to examine them.”
“Let me know if you find anything,” Val said.
“Just hurry up and get here!”
Easier said than done, she thought, looking at the endless stretch of brake lights leading to the horizon. Traffic was moving now at thirty miles per hour, but the backup the accident had caused would stay with her all the way to Boston.
There were several more slowdowns along the way. It was getting dark when Val finally saw the skyline on the horizon. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since her pastry that morning. Knowing Matt didn’t have much in the fridge, Val did a quick search on her phone and found a Chinese takeout place not far from his neighborhood. She called ahead to place her order. They said it would be ready in fifteen minutes. When she got there in twenty, they hadn’t even started it.
Finally, just after seven, Valkyrie pulled into the alley behind Mat’s building. The tall metal garage door sensed the Charger’s return and automatically rolled up to allow her in. As Val walked around the car to get the food out of the passenger seat, she heard a noise behind her. She turned to find a three-legged dog sitting on its haunches just inside the door. She recognized him from the day before.
“And who are you?” she said. The dog made a whining noise. “I thought so. You’re a beggar.” She pulled a fortune cookie out of one of the bags. She ripped it in half to remove the paper, and tossed him the cookie pieces. The dog caught one piece, gulped it down, and then snatched up the second from the concrete floor. He vanished back into the alley. Val scanned the fortune in her hand. It’s a great day to travel!’ the slip of paper announced. She chuckled and tossed it in the bag. She touched the button on the wall to close the door, and the room went dark as the door slid shut.
Val had to wrangle the bags as she grabbed her cane and headed for the elevator. She took her time, ignoring the heavenly aromas drifting around her. Up until that afternoon, her back had been feeling much better, but that was before spending almost six hours behind the wheel. Her muscles were tense again, that familiar dull ache wrenching itself up just from the act of carrying takeout. Not time for a pill yet, though. If she straightened up and took it easy, she might avoid it altogether.
As Valkyrie reached the second floor, she heard the rat-a-tat-tat of fully automatic machinegun fire and the snarling sounds of zombies across the room. She glanced over at the living room, and realized Matt had a guest. The two of them were playing some gory video game. She had a clear view of Matt on the recliner, but the sofa blocked her view of his companion. She only saw a pair of dusty old cowboy boots propped up on the coffee table. Matt paused the game as he heard her arrive. “Finally!” he said.
Val held up the bags. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hijack your car all day. I brought food, does that make us even?”
“Heck yeah!”
Matt jumped off the couch. As he ran for the kitchen, the man on the sofa rose to face her. Val’s eyes widened. “Carver! What are you doing here?”
He grinned as he adjusted his eye patch and then ran a hand through his hair. “I decided you might need some help.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re in over your head, Val.”
“Yes, but -maybe, I mean- but weren’t you just in Nevada a few hours ago?”
“When we talked on the phone? No, I was on the plane.”
She stared at him, her jaw hanging open. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“And give you the chance to brush me off? Nope, not this time.”
“So you just came to Matt’s place, and spent the afternoon playing video games with him?”
“Why not?”
“But how did you find this place?”
“I called Matt. I saw his number on your phone when he called the other day. Why are you giving me the third degree?”
He stared at her, and she stared back. Whatever she expected of Carver, it wasn’t to find him hanging out with a college kid, playing shoot-‘em-up games all day. And she certainly didn’t expect him to just show up like this.
Val shook off the shock as Matt took the bags and started unpacking dinner. “Paper plates in the cabinet,” he said as they gathered around the island. Val grabbed a few and tossed them on the counter. She was about to ask Carver if he wanted a glass of wine when he reached into the mini-fridge and pulled out a six-pack of micro-brew.
“I see you brought your own drinks.”
“Even I wouldn’t show up unannounced without beer,” Carver said. “What am I, a barbarian?”
Val laughed but declined to answer.
Over dinner, Carver went into a little more detail about the man who had tried to kill him, but not so much as to ruin Valkyrie’s appetite. Matt found the tale astonishing, and they all agreed that the timing was more than coincidental. Val was at a loss to explain the situation.
“It seems that wherever the Collector goes, I always find other killers nearby,” she said. “I don’t know if he has any connection to them. If he does, I haven’t found it. Sometimes I wonder if we’re just surrounded by them, like sheep in a pen full of wolves.”
“That may be closer to the truth than you think,” Carver said. “The strange thing about this situation is where it happened. There’s no way a killer just stumbled onto my property.”
“That’s true. He must have been led there, either by me or by the Collector. There are just too many pieces of information missing. I can’t make any sense of it.”
Carver and Matt exchanged a glance. “You haven’t told her?” Carver said. Matt shrugged.
“How could I? She just got here!”
Val frowned as she watched this exchange. “What are you two talking about?”
“Val, you won’t believe what I found.”
“In Levin’s computer?”
Matt grinned even wider, if that was possible. “Grab your food and prepare to be amazed.”
To her surprise, instead of going over to his computer, Matt led them back to the TV. He inserted a memory card into the side of the television and used the menu to display the contents. A couple clicks of the remote, and an ad began to play. The smooth, deep voice of the announcer proclaimed a new age in a combat technology innovation. “Blackstar Fusion,” the ad went on, “proudly introduces the ASP, the latest in aerial combat and reconnaissance technologies. Capable of preprogrammed missions or live flight management, flexible and customizable, compatible with an array of upgradable sensors and weaponry, the ASP is the solution you have been looking for!”
“Interesting,” Val said, “but not much we didn’t already know.” She glanced at Carver as the screen went black. “Did you know about this? Did you know that Blackstar was working on drone technology?”
“No, but I’m not surprised.”
“Don’t worry,” Matt said, sensing her disappointment. “This is just the tip of the iceberg.” He clicked the remote again, opening a different file. This time it was a grainy black and white video. It was an aerial shot of a bleak-looking desert town. The traffic was limited to a handful of vehicles and a few dozen pedestrians, all male, all wearing robes.
“It’s Syria,” Matt said, sensing her question. “This video was taken a little over six years ago.”
“Six years?” said Carver. “That was during the Arab Spring.”
“It was just before the civil war in Syria started, but not by long.”
“What are we looking at?” said Valkyrie.
“Just wait.”
A tan-colored Land Rover came rolling down the
street and parked in front of one of the buildings. Several men in robes had been waiting, and they approached the vehicle as it parked. A second vehicle, a Toyota truck with a camper shell, pulled up behind them.
A man in western clothing climbed out of the Rover’s passenger seat. He joined the others on the sidewalk, and they began to converse. The man moved around a lot as he spoke, waving his arms in the air in an animated fashion. He almost appeared to be arguing with them, but Val suspected it was some sort of negotiation. The question was, what was the man trying to negotiate? What would a westerner be doing in Syria? Did this have something to do with the civil war that hadn’t even started yet?
The picture was simply too grainy and low resolution to make out any more. Val was beginning to wonder in what way this might be important when she saw a flash of light. A violent explosion erupted near the street, and the entire area vanished in a cloud of smoke. Her jaw dropped. “What was that?”
“That was no I.E.D.,” Carver said. “I can guarantee you that much. Must’ve been a missile strike.”
“Wrong,” said Matt. “That was the ASP drone in action.”
“But how?” said Valkyrie. “I thought it was supposed to be a sniper drone. Did they modify it to shoot rockets?”
Matt rewound the video to a point just before the explosion. He played it forward one frame at a time. “If you watch closely, you’ll see the flash of light coincides with a puff of smoke in the wall just behind the American.” He froze it at this point, so they could get a clear look. Val leaned closer, studying the tiny light. It almost appeared like a spark, or a flare on the blurred image.
“What is that?”
“It’s a laser strike,” Matt said confidently.
Carver gave a dismissive shake of his head. “That’s not possible. There’s no way a drone could haul a laser that powerful.”
“It’s nuclear,” Matt said. Carver and Val exchanged a glance.
“The battery is nuclear,” Matt went on. “It’s smaller than you would believe, and it generates enough electricity to fly indefinitely.”
“You mean that thing never has to land?” Val said.
“Just for maintenance. Other than that, it can fly for months. Maybe even years. And as you saw, it can shoot a laser that can cut a person in half, or even shoot through a building.”
“But the explosion,” Carver said. “How does a laser cause an explosion like that?”
“I believe there was a stockpile of weapons and explosives in that building,” Matt said. “They missed their target, and hit the building behind him.”
Carver squeezed his eyebrows together. “The American was the target?”
Matt nodded. “He’s an intelligence contractor named Lester Hurt. He survived the blast, in case you’re wondering. Guess who he worked for?”
“You’re kidding,” said Valkyrie.
“Nope. He was on Blackstar’s payroll.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying this was an attempted assassination by Blackstar, against one of their own employees?”
“Ding, ding!” Matt said. “But wait, it gets better. Most of his bio is very top secret, but from what I’ve pieced together, he was recruited from an intelligence agency.”
“CIA,” Carver said matter-of-factly.
“Probably.”
“But why?” Val said. “What was he doing there in the first place?”
“According to his employee records, his job was to gather intelligence for potential operations against Assad.”
Val stared at him. “You found his employee file?”
“I found ‘em all,” Matt said.
Valkyrie’s chest felt tight, like she could hardly breathe. “You hacked into Blackstar? I thought you said it was impossible!”
“It was, until I had Levin Alexander’s pass codes.”
“And that got you in?”
“Of course. They don’t know he’s dead yet.”
A wincing look crossed her features. Matt frowned as he saw this. “Is something wrong?”
“I… I met with a manager there today. I told them he had been murdered.”
Matt and Carver exchanged looks. Carver seemed particularly horrified. “What were you thinking? You can’t just waltz into a place like that!”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I did,” Val said.
“Seriously? They just let you walk in through the front door?”
“Sure. Once they saw my badge, they-”
Carver groaned. “Val,” he said, “you’re going to prison.”
“That’s what Matt keeps telling me.”
Carver smacked his palm on the coffee table. “This is no laughing matter. Blackstar Fusion now has you on video committing a felony.”
“I’ll deal with that challenge when I come to it,” she said dismissively. “Matt, what were you going to say?”
Matt licked his lips. He’d been watching this interaction with an uncomfortable look. It took him a moment to pick up where he left off: “Lester Hurt was working to supply the rebels in Syria with weapons. That cache of explosives that almost killed him was probably stuff he sold them.”
“Unbelievable,” said Valkyrie. “I can’t even count how many laws they were breaking.”
“I don’t get it,” said Carver. “Why were they trying to kill him in the first place?”
“Because Lester had become a double-agent. He wasn’t just supplying the rebels, he was also supplying Assad’s army. And possibly selling information to the Russians.”
“Interesting.” Carver ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned back in the sofa. “But why is any of this important? What’s it got to do with us?”
Val caught her breath. Her mind whirled as she pieced it together. She glared at Matt. “You’re saying that Hurt is the Collector? You’re saying he’s the man who murdered my family?”
“I don’t know for sure,” said Matt. “You’re the only one who’s seen him in person. Does the man in that video resemble the man you remember?”
“I can’t tell,” she said. “It’s too grainy.”
“Maybe this will help.” Matt clicked the remote again, and the screen started scrolling through a series of employee profiles with headshots. “Do you recognize these people?”
She gave a slight nod of her head. “I’ve seen some of them.”
“Where?” said Carver.
“Dead. Those are the Collector’s victims.”
After displaying more than a dozen photos, the screen froze on the image of Tom.
“This is your husband’s employee file,” said Matt. “All these people, including Tom, worked for Blackstar’s drone program. Tom was the lead engineer on the project. These other victims were coders, communications specialists… two of them were drone pilots.”
Val leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. Her gut churned with nausea. The Chinese takeout threatened its way back up her esophagus. This had been Tom’s secret, she thought. This was what he had been keeping from her for all those years. She pushed up, rising to her feet, leaning against her cane for support. This is what got him and Kyle killed…
Val squeezed her eyes shut. She stood there for a few seconds, turning this new information over in her mind. She took the pain and the myriad questions whirling through her head and forced them all aside in an effort to think clearly.
“This can’t be right,” she said. She opened her eyes and glanced at Matt. “The victims were scattered all over the country. They couldn’t have been working on the same program.”
“They weren’t,” Matt said.
Val shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Blackstar terminated the ASP program after this incident. The explosion made headline news, and may have helped spark a civil war. The heads of the program dismantled it and sent the employees off to different operations. A few of them actually left the company. Tom was one of them. At the time he was killed, he was no longer listed on Blackstar’s payroll.”
“Exactly,” said Matt. “There was just one problem…”
“Hurt was still alive,” said Val. “And he wanted revenge.”
“Yep.”
“Great job,” Carver said to Matt. “There’s still one question, though: If the program was shut down, and all those people had their identities changed, how did he find them all?”
“The chair,” Val said. Seeing the look of confusion on Carver’s face, she elaborated: “In Levin Alexander’s basement, there was a chair… someone had escaped from it after being tied up. I thought the Informant had held someone captive there, but I just realized that isn’t what happened at all. He was the captive. The Collector took Levin Alexander captive in his own basement, and tortured him to get the names of the Blackstar employees.”
“Of course!” Matt said. “Hurt probably met Alexander at one of their meetings, just like Carver. And with Alexander’s relationship to Blackstar being what it was, Hurt knew Alexander would have access to inside information.”
“That’s why my boys died,” she said, her voice cracking. She squeezed her hands into fists, the hardwood of her cane tight in her grip. She took a breath, forcing down the pain. She straightened her shoulders. “The Informant gave Tom up,” she said, regaining her composure. “All of this happened because of one coward. All this time, that’s why he was helping me: Out of guilt.”
Carver had risen from the sofa to stand next to her. He leaned close to put an arm around her, but Val pushed him away.
“I’m sorry,” Matt said. “Maybe we were better off not knowing.”
Val crossed the room, circling past the sofa to the windows, and pulled the shade back. A maze of asphalt weaving through black towers stretched out before her. The sparkling lights of skyscrapers glittered across the horizon.
