by Thomas Shaw
Tom and Julie picked out a sandwich and popped the top on a diet Coke and officially started the picnic.
With his cell phone in hand, Tom touched the screen turning on the camera app and was soon scrolling through the pictures of a utility bill. The next picture was a letter from a car rental company, another one a phone bill. There were several other pictures but these caught his attention. “Well at least we have a last name for this guy,” Tom said as he looked at the information on the rental agreement for a Cadillac Escalade.
“What’s this?” Julie said, pointing to what looked like a list of phone numbers.
“I see what you’re saying,” Tom responded. “These phone numbers look strange. Look at how many numbers there are on these four, versus the other numbers.”
“There must be fifteen numbers on these,” Julie remarked as she pointed to the expanded version of the photo.
“How can we find out what is on the other end of these numbers?” Tom simply asked. “From what we read in Code-5 it looks like Dr. Merrill is the guy that could answer this question but how in the world do we get in touch with him.”
Julie pulled her pad and pencil out and began to take notes. After an hour and a half of trying every scenario they could come up with they had a plan… at least somewhat of a plan.
They loaded the car and following their own tire tracks back to the highway that would take them home.
Somewhere out in the middle of the Delta…
“Eagle 1 to base… we lost them.”
2
Tracy, California… the next day.
Tom and Julie slept late and by the time they showered and finished breakfast it was almost 10 o’clock. With Julie’s notes in hand they headed out. “Punch in Livermore Labs,” Tom said, pointing to his GPS as he turned the car west, heading toward Interstate 580. Twenty minutes later they were pulling into the guest parking lot at the Livermore Labs.
The young lady sitting at the information desk smiled as Tom and Julie walked up.
“May I help you?”
“My name is Tom Goodman and my dad, Dr. Don Goodman, works here at the lab and I would like to talk to him,” Tom said with his southern accent.
“Let me ring his department… please take a seat over there,” as she pointed toward the lobby chairs.
They waited several minutes as they nervously glanced back and forth at each other. They were clearly out of their element.
Suddenly out of nowhere a very large man was standing in front of them. “Do you have some sort of identification,” he asked without introducing himself. “Sure,” Tom said standing up, here’s my driver’s license.
After a quick glance he looked up and in a matter of fact voice… “It says here you are from Oklahoma.”
“My home is here in Tracy, California. I’ve been going to college in Oklahoma for the past four years,” Tom suddenly stopped; what was going on here. This was starting to feel like an interrogation; he needed to get back in control.
“Who are you?” Tom blurted out.
“I’m security,” the big guy replied.
“We just arrived here this morning and since Dad wasn’t at home we assumed he must be here at work,” Tom said in a more controlled manor.
“He’s on vacation,” was the cryptic response.
“Well…” Tom’s mind was racing for a correct answer. “My dad sent me a letter a couple of weeks ago and said when I came home to give it to Steve or Larry if he was still on vacation,” he said with an innocent smile.
“Give it to me; I’ll pass it on to Steve.”
“Dad said I was only to give it to Steve or Larry, something about a security issue,” Tom said with finality. Tom could see the conflict in the security guy’s eyes. His dad must have had a much higher clearance than this security guard.
“Come on Julie, let’s leave, this guy’s not going to let me deliver the letter. I’ll email dad to let him know,” Tom said offering his hand to help Julie up.
It worked.
The security officer suddenly had a change of heart. “I just saw Steve in building C. I’ll tell him you are here to give him a letter.” Without waiting for an answer he turned and walked out of the room.
Tom finished helping Julie stand up. She could feel his hand shaking as their eyes met.
In a few minutes Steve walked in with a sincere and friendly greeting. “Well if it isn’t the famous prodigal son returning to California. I know we’ve never met but I’ve heard all about you since you were five years old. I hope you don’t mind if I call you Tommy but that’s the only name your dad ever called you.” He extended his hand with a warm hand shake.
Tom quickly remembered to introduce Julie. “Steve this is my fiancée Julie Broulette.” They also had a quick handshake.
“Steve I have something in my car I need to show you. Can you walk out there with us?” Tom said starting out the door.
“Sure, no problem.”
Tom had intentionally parked in the outer most area of the guest parking lot. When they arrived at his car, Tom started the conversation. “Steve I don’t know where to turn but you are the only one I know who might know where my dad is.”
“That’s easy,” Steve said, he’s on vacation.
“I don’t think so,” Tom replied without trying to be too argumentative. “I haven’t heard from dad for months which isn’t out of the ordinary but to miss my graduation without a word, I know something is wrong,” Tom stated flatly.
“I wish I could help you but I know he’s been on vacation for the past couple of weeks and I must say it has been a long time in coming. He deserves it,” Steve said smiling.
Tom didn’t say anything for several long seconds then looked directly into Steve’s eyes.
“I know about Code-5”.
It looked like Steve had just taken a hammer blow to the chest. The smiles, color and everything else instantly drained from his face.
“What do you mean?” he stammered, “what’s Code-5?”
Tom maintained his eye contact. “I know about Dr. Merrill, I know about SAM, I know about the sensory deprivation chamber or should I call it the black hole.”
Each statement impacted Steve like someone was pushing him closer to a cliff. He nervously looked around and almost whispered. “Where did you get this information?” His demeanor had changed completely.
“That’s not important now but I will tell you when it’s time,” Tom said, trying to gain control. “But right now we need your help. I know for a fact that dad made it back to California a couple of weeks ago but now he’s missing and we think we might have a lead but need the help that only you can provide.”
“How can I be of any help?” Steve answered in honest simplicity.
“We need you to introduce us to Dr. Merrill,” Tom responded.
“Are you crazy? Just trying to make contact with him could be a death sentence,” Steve said completely shaken.
“Steve, you are the only hope we have at this point. If you are the least bit concerned for my dad, please help me find him,” Tom pleaded.
Steve waited several seconds and seemed to be gathering his thoughts when he asked, “What kind of information do you have?”
“We think someone has been watching or even stalking my dad. We think this guy is from the mid-east and is communicating with someone back there. I went through his mail and made copies of all its contents with the camera in my cell phone.”
Steve stopped him right there, “Let me see your phone.” Tom pulled it out of its pouch and handed it to Steve. Do you have a password?
“Yes… its, letmein.”
Steve dropped the phone in his shirt pocket, and then asked “Is Julie’s number listed under Julie?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t go anywhere until you hear from me. It may take a couple of days.” Steve turned and walked back into the building without another word.
By the time Tom and Julie were pul
ling out of the parking lot, Steve had found Larry and was explaining the dire situation that had been presented to him moments earlier.
“I have no idea where Don is and HR keeps saying he’s on vacation but we know that’s bullshit. I think Tommy may be right; there is something more sinister about this whole thing. He may also be right that Dr. Merrill is the best place to go for help but how in the world do you make contact with that guy,” Steve lamented.
Larry hadn’t said a word as he listened with a sinking feeling, knowing that Code-5 had been compromised.
“Wait a minute,” he said suddenly straightening up. “What if we sent an email, in the open, to the Department of Defense with the word Code-5 in the subject line? No one would know what we are talking about accept SAM, and I’ll bet you ten bucks she is still watching everything. I can send it from my workstation so it will at least be encrypted.
Fifteen minutes later the secure phone line on Larry’s desk begins to ring.
3
Tracy, California… 2 days later
Tom and Julie were having breakfast in strained silence as the boredom of sitting around the house was starting to create stress.
“We’ve got to get out of here. If nothing else let’s go have lunch in Walnut Creek,” Tom said wondering if the listening device was picking up their conversation.
“I’m up for anything; even a long drive sounds exciting to me,” Julie added.
“Wait a minute, I’ve got an idea. Let’s go out to the airport and see if any of my old instructors are still around. I think I’ll get in an hour of flight time just to bring my log book up-to-date. This might be just what we need to break this monotony.
They pulled into the parking lot at the FBO, a little before noon. There were only a few cars there, business must be slow. They walked through the front door only to find the office area empty. Tom motioned for Julie to wait for him as he walked through the office into the adjoining hangar. Two guys were working on the engine of a Cessna 172.
“Hello, can I help you?” one of the men said as he looked up from his work.
“I’m just looking around to see if I recognize any faces. This is the FBO I used to get my pilots license,” Tom answered.
“Well, we are the only faces around here for the past couple of years,” he stated.
“Are either of you guys instructors? I was thinking about bringing my flight log current,” Tom asked.
“This is your lucky day we are both instructors.”
“It’s been over a year since my last logged time but my medical is current and I have over 1000 hours, most of it in Cessna’s like these,” Tom said, handing him his log book.
“My name is Skip Seal, I’m ex-military air force and would be pleased to give you an hour or so of instruction,” Skip said holding out his hand.
They went back to the office and filled out the necessary paper work and Tom handed him his credit card.
“Do you mind if Julie rides along with us?” Tom asked.
“No problem, we’re going to be flying 325 Tango Romeo, it’s tied down out front. Why don’t you start the preflight inspection and I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” as he walked back to his locker to retrieve the radio headsets.
The day was perfect for flying and after several landings and takeoffs Skip was impressed with Tom’s flying skills. It was easy to tell that Tom was a natural pilot and they spent the rest of the hour flying over an area just south of Tracy. They even flew over the New Jerusalem Airport. Tom saw the abandon pumping station and noticed there were only two sets of tire tracks on the dirt road, one going in and one coming out.
Tom made a perfect landing and taxied back to the tie-down and parked the plane. Back in the office they sat down in the pilots lounge to talk about the flight. The other instructor came in to join them; as all pilots like to talk about what they do. It wasn’t long before the conversation led back to a mystery Learjet that had flown in about a month earlier.
“We’re both jet pilots and have some combat time in Afghanistan,” Skip was saying “but we have never seen a Learjet with the power this one had. The pilot did a short field takeoff and his roll-out couldn’t have been much over 300 feet. I’m not sure but I think that thing had afterburners. It was so loud it almost blew out the windows in our building.”
“What color was it?” Tom asked more curious now.
“It was solid black,” as they both spoke at once.
“Did you happen to see if there was a name on the plane?” Tom followed up.
“No, by the time we heard the plane it was taking off,” Skip said shaking his head. “Wait a minute,” the other instructor said, “they took on fuel so there might be something in the log book. Let me take a look,” as he stood up and walked behind the counter. “Here it is,” he said, pointing to the gas log. “It’s just a note but it says, Black Gold.”
Tom looked at Julie.
“Does that ring a bell with you guys?” Skip asked noticing the expressions on their faces.
“No… no it doesn’t,” Tom said shaking his head.
“Well thanks for your time,” Tom said as he stood up motioning to Julie that it was time to go.
As they slowly drove back to their house, Tom looks to Julie. “Can you believe it that was the same plane Donny used in Mexico?”
“I think we now have conformation that the story about Code-5 is accurate,” Julie stated.
“I can’t wait to hear from Steve, it’s been two days and we haven’t heard a thing. Is that good or bad?” Tom said feeling a little less stressed this day.
4
Quantico, Virginia… three weeks earlier
Dr. Merrill was sitting in his office in the “Ice House” when his private line began to flash. No one had this number except his daughter, ex-wife and a couple of close associates.
He never answered this line with any identification other than a simple, “Hello” as he pressed the record button.
“Daddy… it’s me,” was all he head, then the sounds of someone being slapped around.
“Hello daddy… it’s me,” came the sound a male voice of Spanish accent. “Your daughter has been very bad and needs to be punished.”
“Who the Hell is this!” Dr. Merrill demanded breaking off the conversation as he quickly pressed another button that would automatically trace the call.
“You can call me Carlos,” the voice was slurred. “Like I said your daughter is very bad and needs to be punished. I think I’ll spank her now, would you like to listen?” Then he heard the distinct sound of a hand or belt striking skin, followed by piercing screams.
“What the Hell is this all about?” Ed demanded.
“Well I’m glad you asked,” said Carlos. “It seems like your daughter has run up a bit of a bill with my organization. You must know how much she likes cocaine but marijuana will do if you just want to have some good sex. I must say it took considerable effort to convince her to give me your “special” phone number, so here we are.”
“Just tell me what you want ass-hole,” was all Dr. Merrill could get out before he was cut off.
“You call me ass-hole? You must be confusing me with your daughter, oh but I digress. Listen you prick, your daughter owes me a bunch of money and if you don’t come up with one million dollars cash I’m selling her to my buddies that operate a sex trade in Cuba. You’ve got a couple of days or she’s on a boat for a short 90 mile ride…Compendia?”
“How can I get in touch with you, if we’re going to make this happen?” Dr. Merrill said feeling like he was losing control.
“Your daughter will call you with the address where you can drop off the money.” The line went dead.
“SAM, trace that call and tell me everything you can glean from this guy’s voice and give me a report as soon as possible. Use the new voice stress analysis software we’ve been experimenting with,” he said as he headed back to the control room to follow up on the final stages of his Code-5 project.
&n
bsp; Jim Peterson had been deprogrammed and was heading back to California to start his new life with a few modifications just in case they needed to use him again.
Twenty minutes later Dr. Merrill was back in the privacy of his office. “What did you find out?” Ed said, into his empty office.
“According to the best computer models, I was able to create a 92% accurate psychological profile of Carlos Chaves. He was a new born when he arrived in the US with the flood of criminals that Castro dumped into Miami back in the 70’s, based on the decisions of President Carter. It appears that Carlos lives in an area of Miami called the little Havana. He had grown up as a petty criminal with home robberies and car theft as his main source of income. His mother is a prostitute and lives off the handouts from the state and federal government. He is about 27 to 29 years old and four years ago he started dealing in drugs, primarily marijuana. He started with four or five of his street buddies and calls his little gang the Westside Boys. His main drug contacts are in Cuba, and then about a year ago he added Cocaine to his list. His gang has grown to eight or ten members and I think he is adding another source of income by kidnapping young girls and selling them to his Cuban contacts. He has recently targeted the University of Miami as a source for young blond, Caucasian girls. Two girls have already mysteriously disappeared in the past couple of months and their cases are going cold as we speak because of the lack of cooperation with the Cuban authorities. There were kidnapping demands on both girls that disappeared but I could not find out if any money changed hands,” SAM continued with her report.
“That was your daughter you heard and she is under extreme stress with an elevated heart rate due to the possibility of drugs, maybe cocaine.”
“Can you get me any more information on these Westside Boys?” I have an idea, Ed contemplated.
