Project Aurora (Hope Novak Thrillers)

by Daniel Pelfrey

  In return, she heard three short beeps followed by the phrase, “blue dogs are hard to find.” Zoe held the phone to her ear, awaiting instructions. The Cabal had started a triggering command, and Zoe must comply with the instructions given.

  “You are in a hotel room in Flagstaff, Arizona. You have been provided with a blue 2016 Subaru Crosstrek with Georgia license plates. The keys are in your purse on the table. You have one other travel bag in the room with you. The rest of your luggage is in the car. Zoe, you will travel to Bloomington, Indiana. A job as assistant manager of Squire’s Coffee has been arranged. The shop manager has made arrangements for an apartment for you. The details for your trip are on your phone. We will be in touch again soon.

  “The sable dog is prettiest,” said the caller, followed by a short beep and a second longer one.

  “Must have been a wrong number,” Zoe said out loud. She had to get moving. Zoe had a new job starting soon. The doctors finally cleared her to leave the rehabilitation center. Humming to herself, she checked her social media accounts and email before getting ready for the day. She realized she had posts dating back months but could not remember actually posting any of them. Feeling the slight buzz that came whenever she thought of certain things made her uneasy. The doctors told her it was because of the accident she had. She was not so sure. She also did not remember checking into the hotel last night.

  Getting ready for the day, Zoe picked out clothes for the day, undergarments, a pair of denim jeans, and a mauve v-neck sweater. Knowing she would drive all day, Zoe decided the hiking boots next to the bed would be the best choice for comfort. Once dressed, Zoe put her hair in a loose braid down her back and applied her makeup, thinking, there’s no need to look hideous while I’m driving.

  Making sure she gathered all her possessions, Zoe left the room keys on the table where her purse had sat and made her way to the parking lot. She smiled when she saw the Georgia plates on her car because it reminded her of her home state. Using the fob to open the rear hatch, Zoe put her bag in, seeing her other bags. And included in the hard-sided gear bags were an assortment of cameras and additional hardware she might need later.

  She grabbed something quick to eat at the gas station on her way out of town. It was still early. The car radio said 6:30 as Zoe pulled onto the eastbound I-40. Zoe programmed the next hotel into the GPS, which said she would arrive in Amarillo, Texas, in just under nine hours.

  ◆◆◆

  JR stopped at his favorite coffee shop in Bloomington, Squire’s, for a cup to take into work. He mentioned planning to rent the apartment to Beverly, the owner, in passing a few days ago because many students were regularly in the shop. And it had a board for such postings.

  “JR, you still looking to rent that apartment?” asked Beverly.

  “I haven’t posted anything yet. But yes.”

  “Don’t bother with that. I have a new assistant manager coming in, and she needs a place.”

  “When’s she due?” asked JR.

  “A few days. How much are you thinking for rent?”

  JR had not given it too much thought until now. “Well, it’s furnished, utilities included. $400 a month.”

  “In this town, that’s a steal.”

  “Well, I don’t really need the money. Just figured someone might need a place. So send her over when she gets in. No sense going through an agency or doing background checks if you’re vouching for her.” JR wrote the address and his phone number on a piece of paper, handing it to Beverly. “How much for the coffee?”

  “This one’s on the house. I’m going to email this to her now.”

  JR had started towards the door but stopped to ask, “What’s her name?”

  “Zoe Mills. Originally from Georgia. Savannah, I think.”

  TWELVE

  JR had finished the preparations for the apartment that sat over his three-car garage. He realized the single stall space that included a private entrance to the apartment still needed to be taken care of. The problem, his ex-girlfriend, Katie, refused to come to get her stuff he had packed up.

  Not that she had left much. It was four medium-sized boxes. Regardless, he wanted it gone. JR knew she only left it, hoping he would change his mind. Katie wanted to get married. He did not. At least not to her. She saw the house and money JR’s father had left him. She did not even try to hide the avarice.

  Giving her a last chance to get her things, he called her. He had to leave a message. JR knew the only way Katie would call him back was if he said he would marry her, but he would not do that.

  “Katie, it’s JR. You need to come get your stuff. It’s boxed up in the garage, but I’ve rented the apartment, and they need the space for their car. It’s in the trash in two days if you don’t take it.”

  JR knew he sounded like a jerk, but he was beyond caring. He wanted to move on with his life.

  ◆◆◆

  Zoe could not believe how careless she had been. She became more cautious since her accident, but she had not noticed a tail that had followed her from Flagstaff. Realizing it in the Hotel restaurant in Amarillo, and only because the table with the two questionable-looking men and one woman were actively staring at her as she walked in.

  Ignoring the looks, Zoe sat at the bar, ordering a cheeseburger with fries and a Shiner from the tap. She initially felt annoyed to be carded for the alcohol purchase. Zoe then laughed, showing the bartender, a young woman about Zoe’s age, her driver’s license.

  Intentionally eating quickly, Zoe paid her bill and made her way to her car. An uneasiness had overcome her in the restaurant, and she intended to alleviate it. Fobbing open the rear hatch, Zoe grabbed one of the hard-sided camera cases and made her way back to her room.

  Once she barred the door, she relaxed. The case carried some camera equipment. But that was mainly to hide its primary purpose, hidden in the false bottom. Zoe had a Sig Sauer P238, several driver’s licenses and passports from various countries, and one FBI credentials set. As the technicians had hacked several governmental systems, all were authentic.

  The only one that had her name was the FBI credentials. All the rest were fake identities. Fallbacks if the plan failed. While she was not an actual employee of the FBI, Zoe Mills would come up in a computer search as a special agent. She hoped to never use this particular credential and left it in the case.

  She removed the Sig P238 and the shoulder holster, though. Zoe sat at the desk, cleared the weapon, and set to cleaning it. Once she had finished and reassembled her weapon, she reinserted the magazine, chambered a round, and verified the safety was set. Sliding the P238 back into the holster, she decided she would change her wardrobe a bit tomorrow to accommodate the shoulder holster.

  Calmer, after servicing the Sig, Zoe realized she had not adequately meditated in several days. It was a means for her to organize her mind, which was full of secrets that must be protected. Meditation also provided Zoe a tool to commune with her true identity, Daphne Meyers.

  Thinking back to James Lewis’s fate is the thought Zoe used when she needed to access Daphne’s memories. She preferred to forget the entire time and focus on her new life, but the two would always be intertwined. It was a defining moment for both Daphne and Zoe. Daphne was fearful that once the Cabal finished off James, they would go after his son, JR, to ensure their secrets remained buried.

  Daphne had to protect JR. She pleaded with both Stein and Gomez to push the experiment further. Make her into someone that could easily enter JR’s life. They finally agreed when the programmers in nanorobotics hacked into the secure servers the Cabal thought were unhackable.

  Stein and Gomez set one condition for pushing the experiment beyond its initial parameters. Everyone on the Ranch is given an out as well. The Cabal had assembled the team through coercion, intimidation, and faked deaths. They had more in common with Daphne, who now insisted on being called Zoe Mills. The research would be destroyed, and they would slip away.

  They based the plan on the DN
A gene-splicing experiment and mental conditioning programs used on Zoe. Everyone at the Ranch would undergo treatments to varying degrees. New identities would be created, and if all worked out, the Cabal would think the Ranch and its inhabitants would be wiped from the face of the earth in a freak accident.

  These thoughts drove Zoe, partly because they had driven Daphne. But as the physical and mental changes took a firmer hold on Zoe, Daphne became more like a memory. The knowledge was still there, and Zoe could depend on it. Still, the distinct personality Daphne possessed no longer came to the surface as readily. Zoe saw this as a mixed blessing. It was easier to keep that secret when part of your mind is not trying to reveal it to the world, as Daphne had when she was not a willing participant.

  Meditation did not provide the answers Zoe sought, but regardless, it helped her sort her thoughts. The Sig would not go into a shoulder holster but in her purse instead. No sense in being completely careless. For now, they must lead the Cabal to believe she was doing their bidding. She would have to tolerate her shadows, but she would not pretend they did not exist. The Cabal obviously activated sleepers from the SCI. They would be sloppy. Zoe could lose them whenever she wanted to.

  She looked forward to tomorrow. The next hotel had a pool, and Zoe liked the idea of a swim.

  THIRTEEN

  Zoe Mills knew she was dreaming. It would be impossible to sit across the desk from Daphne Meyers otherwise. That and they were in Daphne’s office. Mills knew it must be important. Normally she would commune with her former self in meditation.

  Zoe noticed they were each dressed in outfits most complimenting to their lives. Daphne was in her typical pantsuit. Zoe could tell she was in workout clothes. She felt comfortable.

  Daphne paid Zoe a compliment, “you’ve turned out well. Independent-minded, with a sense of justice. Not a fan of your wardrobe choices, though.”

  Smiling, Zoe countered with, “I could say the same about your fashion sense. But that’s not why you brought me to this dream.”

  “No. You started as an off-shoot of me. Created because our mind needed to make sense of what was happening. Then we found out what happened to James. I knew JR required protection,” said Daphne.

  “But you couldn’t do it, so you let me flourish.”

  Zoe could see Daphne was struggling with the best choice of words. She could feel it. “Yes. Excellent choice of words. I knew I would become attached to JR like I was to his father. It felt wrong. Besides, I no longer looked like myself.”

  “So, you think I will too?”

  “We made us in the image of what JR likes. So most probably.”

  “What should I do?”

  “If it’s going to happen, let it.”

  “Is that why you wanted us to have the ability to have children?” Zoe asked.

  “Yes. I couldn’t fathom another life without being able to have them. But you need to make your own choices in life. In a way, you are my child,” said Daphne.

  “I understand. I think.”

  “No. I don’t think you do. This is the last time we will be able to have one of our ‘little talks.’”

  This confused Zoe. She asked, “why?”

  “I’m afraid I might influence too many of your decisions. This is your body now. That means it should be your life too. I love what you have become, my daughter.”

  The sound of the alarm clock woke Zoe. She felt sad about her dream and could feel the tear rolling down her cheek.

  “I love you too, mom,” said Zoe softly to herself.

  FOURTEEN

  As Mills got out of bed, she felt as if she forgot something. This was near to the truth, as her dream had been delayed conditioning activated by her own words when she awoke.

  The memories of Daphne Meyers’s time with James Lewis had been secreted away, along with much of her time at the Ranch. Her memories of JR Lewis now only included what she knew from her emails about the apartment her new employer, Beverly, had arranged.

  She knew her primary function in Bloomington did not include working in the coffee shop. Mills knew her task was two-fold to determine what JR Lewis knew about his father’s previous research and ensure he was protected from the people who sent her. While this confused her, Mills would gladly do the assignment. It was a way out of that supposed rehabilitation center she spent time at.

  She had arrived in town relatively late and thought it rude to call. Seeing that it was only seven in the morning, Mills waited until after she had gotten herself ready for the day before calling to get her keys.

  Taking her time in the shower, Mills let the scalding water cascade down her. Washing her hair for the first time on her cross-country trip. She had not bothered during the journey, mainly because she did not see the point. Mills regretted this decision as she used the hotel blow dryer in her thick auburn hair that ran down her back.

  Still wrapped in her towel, Mills realized it had taken close to an hour to dry her hair. She thought it was time to call JR. Zoe had the forethought to program JR’s number into her cell. It took little effort to find, as she had few numbers listed. Selecting JR’s name and pushing the dial option, Mills waited for the connection.

  The phone rang for a third time, Mills thought she would have to leave a voicemail when JR answered.

  “Hello. Who’s calling?” The voice made Mills feel excited, even though it sounded like someone woken from a deep sleep.

  “Hi, this is Zoe Mills. Beverly from Squire’s set up the apartment for me.”

  Zoe felt awkward. Her Southern accent was the most pronounced she had ever heard, bordering on vixenish. She felt slightly embarrassed.

  Mills did not realize additional mental conditioning would kick in on the sound of JR Lewis’s voice. It had been incorporated into her personality to ensure he would take a liking to her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number. I suppose you’re ready to move in?” asked JR.

  “I got into town late last night. I thought it would be rude to call then.”

  She almost sounded giddy. Where did that come from? Mills was surprised to hear herself flirting with JR.

  “I plan to be home all day. Do you need directions?”

  Mills felt that tingle again. She had not felt it since the rehabilitation center, but she liked how it made her feel.

  “No, Miss Beverly, gave me your address. I can use my GPS.”

  “See you, in say, an hour then?” asked JR.

  “Sure thing.”

  Mills did not know where this flirty personality had come from. Not that it bothered her. She liked the sound of JR’s voice.

  Looking at the outfit she had laid out last night, Mills decided. This one just won’t do, she thought, as she went to her bag to pick out something different. Zoe wanted to make a lasting impression.

  ◆◆◆

  JR had been sleeping. He had forgotten to turn the ringer on his cell on. He gruffly answered without checking the number just before the call went to voicemail.

  The voice on the other end sounded sweet. Unlike my ex-girlfriend, thought JR. Realizing quickly it was the person who rented the apartment over the garage, Zoe Mills, Lewis apologized for sounding rude.

  Mills spoke again about how she got into town late and did not want to appear rude. Lewis felt even more like a schmuck for how he answered the phone, but wondering if she was as attractive as she sounded.

  Lewis wanted to be helpful and offered directions, which Mills politely declined, opting to use her GPS instead. JR thought, if she’s this flirty in person, he was in serious trouble.

  Knowing he had to get the garage bay that led to the apartment cleared of Katie’s things, Lewis gave her one last call, surprised she answered on the second ring.

  “What do you want, JR?”

  Katie sounded annoyed, but JR was in a good mood after talking to Zoe. He overlooked her attitude.

  “Good morning to you too, Katie. Look, my tenant is moving in today. I would really like it if you’d co
me get your things out of the garage.”

  “You put my things in the garage? Why? I hoped we could get back together.”

  Not giving in to her, JR said, “for the last time, no. Just come get your things today. Please.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there in a bit.”

  Katie hung up. Lewis thought, I hope she is in a better disposition when she gets here.

  FIFTEEN

  Several months ago, Robert Fritz’s personal life came crashing down around him. They had caught him at a party with a young, attractive woman. His wife of twenty years divorced him. Fritz was agreeable to this. Their children grown, he offered a reasonable settlement and moved on. He continued the relationship with the young woman, an aspiring model named Brittany Thompson.

  What Fritz did not know about Brittany Thompson was that she was one of the female inmates sent to the Ranch in the experimentation that also resulted in Zoe Mills. The Ranch staff had created cover identities for all the inmates, sending them into positions within the Cabal-controlled companies to gather information.

  The story fed to the Cabal was only Mills had survived the procedure when they all had in actuality. Each was eager and willing to perform their assigned roles, as it meant a chance at a new life without a conviction hanging over them.

  Brittany Thompson had been a teacher, Valerie Michaels, in her mid-forties and convicted of having sexual relations with a minor, a former student. The procedure had transformed Michaels from an almost frumpy-looking middle-aged woman into a twenty-something with willowy, runway model looks.