by Van Fleisher
“Vijay was getting his hopes up, “You’re right, it can’t read minds, but it can read blood.”
“Huh? Read blood?”
Vijay was getting into full stride, but he knew he had to keep it simple for J. Edward. “The VT2 works by reading blood, and so far, we’ve only been reading health vital signs. But the watch can detect behavioral aspects that, when modeled against other users who have killed, can identify new Final Notice killers. In short, it can pinpoint Final Notice recipients who display similar readings to past killers. Does that make sense?”
“Sure it does, but that’s all theoretical.”
“Actually, it isn’t,” confessed Vijay.
“How and when did that happen?” blurted J. Edward.
“I’ve been tinkering with it ever since the killings took place during the test phase. Now, I think I’ve nailed it,” Vijay proudly, but cautiously replied.
“Does the FBI know about this?” asked J. Edward.
An alarm went off for Vijay, but he answered truthfully, “I’ve hinted to Zoe, my FBI contact, that I’m working on something that might help, but that’s all she knows so far.”
“Damn, Vijay. With all the news about government eavesdropping and surveillance, if this gets out, it could be a huge turnoff for sales. Let me think about it.”
“J. Edward, what do you think will happen to sales or VitalTech if Final Notice recipients start killing politicians and judges?”
“McAdam killed three senators, and nobody blinked,” J. Edward countered. “I’m uncomfortable with it. I’ll talk with Mike.”
Vijay knew it was over, “He won’t like it. He killed it in its present state. Why would he like a new, improved version?”
“I’m not going to take sides in this fight between you and Mike. He’s been charged with running the business, and that’s his number one priority. If the FBI wants to establish a “Big Brother” society, they need to force the issue. I have to go, Vijay. Leave it alone.”
***
That evening, Vijay, Jennifer, and Karima had finished their dinner. It was Vijay’s turn to bathe Kari. He always looked forward to the happy, giggling, ‘splash party,’ as Jennifer called it. At least that’s what it sounded like to her. Tonight was no different, and having put Karima in her bed, Vijay changed out of his wet clothes, brought about by some very exuberant splashing, and joined Jennifer in the family room.
Their relationship had been somewhat strained lately, and the previous evening’s discussion highlighted Jennifer’s very plausible concern for their family’s safety. Vijay was very down after his call from J. Edward, and he really didn’t want to discuss it with Jennifer right now, but he wanted to get their relationship back on track, and he knew she’d ask if he’d made the call.
In as upbeat a way as he could muster, Vijay volunteered that he’d spoken with J. Edward and explained about the enhancements and that J. Edward was interested and wanted to think about it.
Jennifer asked if Vijay thought there was a chance, and he said, he was hopeful, and then changed the subject to a much happier discussion, their new shepa-doodle.
His ploy worked, at least it appeared to because Jennifer was excited about getting their puppy in just two days. They had already named him: Fritz. Her enthusiasm brought Vijay’s mood up as well, and, at least for a while, they returned to happier times.
They had been telling Karima about her new fuzzy ‘brother,’ showing her pictures and the cuddly toy dog they had already bought for her. Her pronunciation of Fritz was more like Fwitz and would remain that way for some time. Like good ‘dog parents,’ they already had his bed, a small fence-like cage to keep him contained, a water-proof – rather, a urine-proof – rug, and enough toys to start their own pet shop. Vijay, of course, had picked up a FitBark as well, to monitor the pup’s exercise and sleeping data.
Jennifer had an earlier than usual start to her next day, so she excused herself, and Vijay returned to his office.
Vijay had never fully considered scrapping the enhanced information share with Zoe. When he found out about the Boston murders and saw that their signatures or profiles were very different than the Final Notice killers they had investigated in the past, he could have made a case for delaying the launch. Instead, he and Alek had worked even harder, spending the entire day incorporating these new emotional profile variants into the system.
Vijay was reviewing the new system in anticipation of their call with Zoe the following day. An alert beeped, re-directing Vijay’s attention to it. His pulse quickened, and he quickly grabbed his phone and speed-dialed Zoe, despite the late hour.
Zoe answered immediately, “Hi Vijay,” and noting the unusual time asked, “Is everything OK.”
Vijay tried to stay calm and focused as he quickly explained that a Final Notice recipient, Mitchell Connelly, was exhibiting acute signs consistent with anger, rage, and retribution. “He is listed as having a gun and is currently on East Capitol Street between 5th and 6th Streets heading in the direction of Lincoln Park. He’s a retired government employee. That’s all I know.”
***
Washington, D.C. Zoe, and Demi were, in fact, on their way home from a restaurant and were still functioning in an upbeat, happy, two glasses of wine way. “So, you’re saying that this guy is not just out for a late-night stroll?”
Vijay replied, much more seriously, “His markers are through the roof!”
Zoe shifted behavioral gears. “OK. I’m on it! Thanks.”
***
Washington, D.C. The two law enforcers were not far from Connelly’s location. Demi’s phone had rung just after Zoe’s, so when Zoe turned to her, Demi spoke into her phone, “I can’t talk now,” and hung up when Zoe shouted, “Come on, let’s go get a bad guy!” and started running.
Demi began to follow, but after only a few yards, she stopped and screamed out, “Damn, I twisted my ankle. Go ahead, and I’ll catch up.”
Zoe picked up the pace, and with her earbuds in, she reconnected to Vijay, as she ran in the direction of Lincoln Park.
Vijay gave her the current coordinates, and after a while, Zoe said, “OK, I think I see him just ahead. There’s no one else around. Talk with you later.”
She was closing the gap, and as she approached the lone male, she shouted out, “FBI. Turn around with your hands raised high.”
At that same moment, a dark figure stepped out from behind a tree. Zoe saw him out of the corner of her eye and tried to react, but he was able to land a sharp blow to the back of her head, sending her sprawling onto the sidewalk.
Vik Vasin calmly stepped over Zoe, never taking his eye off Connelly as he turned right to complete his job. Vasin watched as Connelly walked right up to his target and put one 9mm round in the middle of his forehead. Seconds later, just as planned, Jack Meacham, ex-Army, with a permit to carry a weapon and about to become the newest ‘good-guy,’ happened onto the scene and killed Connelly.
Vik watched and drew a little closer as police and people gathered. Meacham was questioned, and he explained that he saw this white guy shoot this black guy, so he did his duty and took out the shooter. It was a good story, and it would be corroborated by the cameras they knew were surveilling the area. Vik smiled and thought to himself, “Yuri, or whatever his real name was, would be pleased. We got a very big fish tonight, and it was a hell of a lot easier than the minnow in Boston. He even had his own gun.”
Demi had caught up with Zoe, just as she was coming to, still groggy and with an aching head.
Breathing hard, Demi helped her up and asked, “What the hell happened?”
Zoe was still half out of it and muttered, “Someone whacked me.”
They walked slowly to the crime scene, Zoe, with her head spinning and Demi limping, and they decided that since they had nothing to add, they really weren’t in a condition to talk with law enforcement to get the whole story. Nor did Zoe want to get into explanations about the details of why she was there. She did, however, find out
about the victim – he was one of her Number One Priorities, a Supreme Court Justice.
***
Demi called an Uber to take the two of them to her flat. She made an icepack for Zoe’s huge bump and got her to bed, but Zoe didn’t sleep well. The combination of pain when she moved her head, the many questions swirling around in her addled brain, and the fact that she had failed to stop a top-priority murder, made sleep impossible.
She was up early, swallowed three aspirin, and winced when she touched her new bump. The ice had helped, and the blow didn’t break the skin, so the damage was not visually noticeable. But that didn’t make it feel any better. Demi was up even earlier, had made coffee, and she handed Zoe a steaming cup.
“How was Vijay involved with whoever we, or actually, you, were chasing?”
“Vijay is testing an enhancement to the report he sends me.”
Demi interrupted, “I thought that stopped.”
“It did,” but Zoe caught herself. “I don’t know where this lead came from. I haven’t spoken with him since we took off running. I’m sorry, I forgot to ask how your ankle is?”
“Oh, it was fine this morning. Must have just buckled, trying to start up too fast to keep up. So, who whacked you? Did you see him?”
“I think I caught a brief glance, but now I have zero recollection. Not sure I would even recognize him.”
Zoe noticed her laptop open on the coffee table with Demi’s cup alongside it. “Is that my laptop?”
“Yeah. I tiptoed out of the bedroom to let you sleep, put on some coffee, and realized that my laptop was still in the bedroom. I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d find out on the news what happened last night.”
Demi retrieved the open laptop and brought it back to the kitchen counter. There was a newsfeed site on the screen, and Zoe saw the headlines.
“Supreme Court Judge Murdered!”
The stories from all the news sources covered the same points – that Supreme Court Justice Jefferson Darrow had been shot to death as he walked from the Supreme Court to his home in Washington, D.C. Darrow had been on the bench for over fifteen years and was considered to be the Court’s most conservative justice, as well as only the second African-American to be appointed. He was now the first Supreme Court Justice to be assassinated.
The suspect, Mitchell Connelly, had been a federal government employee who was ultimately let go for incompetence. He made the news occasionally, ranting about getting even, although he was mostly dismissed as a nutcase. Connelly was very left-wing.
The GOP and the right were having a field day with the damnations of the left’s resistance to the President’s agenda and the anger over the various machinations of the Supreme Court appointees. The murder became a focal point in portraying the left as without principles. They further ridiculed Connelly for his senseless act, as the President still had time to appoint another politically aligned justice.
Demi asked, “So who were you chasing? The killer?”
“I think so, although I don’t know for sure who I was approaching or who whacked my head.”
“Do you think it could be related to your Final Notice watch?”
Zoe’s head jerked up from the screen. “The murder or me getting whacked on the head?”
Demi replied, “The murder,” and she pulled the laptop toward her and scrolled to the very bottom. She pointed to an article from The Boston Globe. “Given the raised tension between the Left and Right wings, extreme violence from either side should come as no surprise. However, there is an additional perspective that perhaps Connelly’s action was triggered by receiving a Final Notice alert on his VT2 watch.”
And then Zoe remembered the call from Vijay.
***
CHAPTER 14 – ONLY IN HORSESHOES ...
Washington, D.C. She’d been looking forward to the upcoming call with Vijay, but right now, Zoe was having a hard time feeling positive. There were so many open questions from so many areas: Was Demi spying on her? Was there a Russian connection with this latest shooting? Will there be reprisals as a result of the Justice murder? Will Vijay’s help be effective? Hopefully, she’d be able to answer the last question soon, when her IT guru joined her for the call with Vijay. But first, she needed to talk with Vijay privately.
Vijay picked up and said, “You’re early, and what happened last night? You never called back, and then this morning, I read all about who Connelly was stalking. What happened?”
Zoe sighed and apologized. “I’m sorry. Someone knocked me on the head as I was running after the suspect, who I assume was Connelly. I’m OK, but I missed the chance. But how did you know where he was?”
Vijay replied proudly (so focused on his new system that he never asked about Zoe’s attack), “That’s the other piece of information I mentioned the other day. The VT2 is GPS enabled, so when I saw the markers spiking, I was able to track him, as will you. I’m just so sorry I called you too late. We were so close.”
Zoe recalled one of her father’s favorite expressions, possibly because it was so American, and her father was French. She seemed to remember it was attributed to a baseball player: “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” And she added, “By the way, the FBI did not visit the VitalTech offices. They did visit Alek Belikov at his home, but that related to the death of his wife’s killer. They subsequently found the killer, and guess what his name was?”
Vijay didn’t have a clue what his name might be, but he knew where she was going with this. “Vladimir Putin?”
“You’re close – same nationality. And there was another one that played the role of a ‘good-guy’ in one of the Boston Italian murders. We need to figure this out very soon, especially given what we know the Russians can do with elections. Can we put the call back thirty-minutes so I can break the GPS news to Ninad Banerjee, our IT guy? He had put together something pretty slick, but with GPS, I think it’s about to get even slicker!”
“Sure. I’ll have Alek with me. And Zoe, no one other than you and Ninad, can know the source of this info. If it doesn’t prove valuable, we can shut it down, but if it does help, I’m willing to take the risk. And in that vein, is there any precedent for the FBI to protect and grant immunity to hackers who help you?”
“Actually, I could be in more trouble than you,” she said, without answering his question.
Disappointedly, Vijay asked, “I take that as a no?”
“Yes.”
***
Zoe had enlisted the aid of Ninad, one of their top IT guys, to develop an application that would capture and integrate data from various sources, including the critical data from VitalTech. In an amazingly short space of time, Ninad had developed something that Zoe could only imagine in science fiction terms. She gave him a quick call with the GPS update, half thinking he’d throw a fit after all the work he’d put in. Instead, he almost screamed with joy! “That’s fantastic! See you in 30 minutes.”
***
Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. Vijay called Alek to alert him of the short delay to allow Zoe’s IT guy to consider the effect of the GPS addition. They discussed some of the report details, and Alek assured Vijay that nobody would be able to spot the data outputs that they had engineered. Then, they made the call to Zoe and Ninad.
Zoe and Vijay introduced their colleagues, and Vijay projected a live report prototype, showing Final Notice recipients with threat levels color-coded from green to red. These levels were based on Vijay’s detailed modeling of past Final Notice killers. Zoe’s team could click on any of them for their names, addresses, employer, date of death prediction, gun owner or not, photo - if available - and live GPS location. Their doctor and next of kin notification details were also available.
Vijay added something else. “In addition to receiving data on all Final Notice recipients, the new report will include all VT2 wearers, including those who have not received their Final Notice, as soon as they migrate out of the green zone behavioral threshold. They will be iden
tifiable as non-Final Notice recipients. You can import this or not. It’s your call, but the idea is to track the real, bad guys.”
Zoe asked Ninad if that could be integrated.
Ninad replied, “Yes. No problem, and we can always filter it out if we need to.” He was very upbeat. “This is exactly what we need. I have put together a two-dimensional app. I call it the ‘Final app,’” he said with a smile that only Zoe could see. (And only Ninad could see Zoe’s eye-roll.)
“Can you give me screen control so I can show you what I’ve done?”
Vijay handed over the conference call screen control, and he and Alek were about to be blown away by Ninad’s work.
Ninad opened the app, and a map of Washington, D.C. appeared with a large number of dots ranging from green to yellow to orange to red. The orange and red dots were blinking and moving on the map in real-time.
