by Gerry, Frank
“Are they inside?” Goodman asked. Agent Greene stood at his side. The video screen showed the camera angle on the vehicle slowly changing. The drone was being maneuvered from straight above to the side to peer inside the SUV. The infrared display showed no heat sources other than the vehicle's engine.
Agent Goodman again swore aloud, though more to himself than to anyone in particular. He knew what they were going to find. “Bring the drone down closer. Get a cruiser over there now. And send in the other drones. We have to start scanning the area.” A side view of the SUV was being shown on the central display on the wall. It was evident there was no one inside.
Goodman turned to Greene, “I think that motherfucker Fraser fucked us. Why else would he have abandoned his car and obviously dumped the tracking devices?” Goodman smashed his fist against the command desk. “When we catch that fucker, once we're finished with him, I'm going to personally put a bullet through his fucking brains!”
Agent Greene chimed in, “It's just as likely that he's improvising his mission. He may be acting in such a way to convince the subject to trust him. Either way, Dylan and the terrorist leader would be expecting an all out search for them. Which we should do.”
Goodman nodded his head. “Your assessment may be correct. But my gut is telling me he fucked us and he's already fled. It's a manhunt now. We'll see who wins this game.”
Before he had confirmation that the subjects had disappeared, Goodman walked over to the side of the first row of console stations and began barking a series of orders. “Agent Amaral, get the State Police on the line. Agent Tran contact Commander Stevenson, inform him I want all available DHS patrol cars searching for our subjects. Gonzalez, get me the drone fleet commander on the line. And who's in charge of the street level video surveillance for that area? Find out how they left the area. Did they have any help? ” A flurry of “Yes, Sirs” where heard across the command center.
One of the agents in the room called out, “We have the Watertown police approaching the vehicle now, Sir.” Goodman walked over to the agent. “OK, they're at the car. They're reporting no occupants in the vehicle. Hold on...they've found Homeland Security uniforms in the back seat.” Agent Greene walked up behind Goodman. “He must have had help. He had to have someone pick them up at that location and provide a change of clothing. This was thought out beforehand. He would have had to make a call this afternoon before the operation began.” Goodman turned around to face Greene, “Get the phone records to his office and his v-phone. Get in touch with the other Agents training him today. Find out what office phones where nearby his training and get those records. And let's get a list of his friends. It's more than likely that it's one of his friends that gave him assistance.” “Yes. Sir,” Agent Greene responded. “I think this Mr. Fraser is a lot more clever than we thought,” he added before heading over to the command desk to make his calls.
Goodman walked over to the front of the room and stood in center of the central display. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed everyone in the room, “This operation is now officially a manhunt. We'll be moving to Command Center 1 in fifteen minutes. I expect everyone to make the transition on time.” Goodman walked back to his command desk where Greene was sitting. “Agent Greene, I want all available on duty Agents assembled in twenty minutes in Conference Room 1. And we'll need eight more Agents for the operation. Get it done.”
“God damn it to Hell!” Goodman said to himself after sitting down at his command desk. He put his hands atop his head and blew the air out of his lungs. He knew he had only a minute to himself before he had to place the call to to Senior Agent Riviera. Informing her of his apparent failure.
TWENTY THREE
Homeland Security officers began filing into Command Center 1 to attend the briefing on capturing the fugitives. Agent Greene stood at the doorway greeting the officers, making inquires with some and joking with others. Goodman sat at the head of the large command table. His suite was disheveled, his tie undone, and a five o'clock shadow growing darker upon his face. He slouched in his chair, staring at his cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of him. He seemed far off, engaged in deep thought.
With Homeland Security officers still trying to make their way into the doorway, one of the agents assigned to work the command center that night, Agent Smith, ran into the conference room. He dodged and weaved passed the officers to make his way into the Command Room. “Excuse me Agent Goodman. I mean Senior Agent,” he said as he tried catching his breath. He stood at attention three feet from Goodman. He held a mobile v-phone in his right hand. Goodman looked up at the agent with annoyance. “What is it Smith? If you don't have any news that we caught that son of a bitch Fraser, then it better be damn good.”
Agent Smith held up the video phone for Goodman to take. “We have a field agent calling in. She says her code name is N Omega. She stated she lost her phone and couldn't call you directly. She had to call the main switchboard. Which routed the call to me. I ran over here as fast as I could. I didn't want to take the chance of switching the call and possibly loosing her.” Agent Smith continued to hold the video phone in front of him obediently. Goodman sat up straight in his chair, his eyes grew wider. Without saying a word to the agent, he quickly grabbed the phone as he jumped to his feet.
“Give me some good news N,” Goodman said. He moved the v-phone up in front of his face to watch his agent describe her recent activities. He nodded his head up and down as she spoke. “Good job! OK, stay where you are. We'll have a cruiser there in a couple of minutes. In the meantime provide your information to Agent Smith.”
Goodman handed the v-phone back to Smith. “This is top priority. I need you track down the GPS coordinates of our agents v-phone.”
TWENTY FOUR
By quarter past seven that evening, Brooks had made a quick exit after giving Dylan and Tien the tour of his lady friend's home and handing them the keys. He felt uncomfortable being around the two lovers, not to mention wanting to get away from the huge mess they were tangled up in.
Dylan and Tien acted a bit awkward at first. To ease the tension, Tien began walking around the living room admiring the decorations. Dylan walked in the opposite direction, eying the architecture and the furniture. The house was a beautifully restored English Tudor. “Brooksie' friend obviously did quite well for herself in her divorce. Someday I'd like to have a home just like this,” Tien mused. She continued meandering around the living room. “Yeah, me too,” Dylan said, picking up then quickly putting down what looked to be an expensive vase.
Tien pulled out of her pocket Joanne's v-phone, “I'm going to contact my command. Inform them of my status. It's just a simple one way communication. The procedure of re-acquiring my memories and finding a safe house is a lot more involved. I'll have to do that later on.”
“OK, I'll let you do your thing.” He continued looking about the house, making his way down a wide hallway leading to the kitchen. In the hallway, he stopped to investigate what was behind a door. Ah, the garage, he thought. He peeked his head in the doorway and flipped the manual light switch on the wall. “Oh, you got to see this,” Dylan called down the hallway to Tien. He eyed a classic 2017 green Jaguar sedan in perfect condition. Walking up to the car, he slid his hand along the curve of the hood. Tien followed him into the garage a moment later.
Dylan knew his cars. He wasn't what some would call an auto enthusiast or an expert in the field. It was just an interest, something he liked and read a lot about. “You can't buy a car like this anymore. Definitely a V-8. Probably has a has a six hundred, six fifty horse power engine. A real gas powered engine too, no crappy hybrid electric or hydrogen fuel cells.” He continued to caress the car with one hand while taking out of his pants pocket the key chain with the house keys that Brooks had given him. One of the keys had a Jaguar insignia. Maybe just a little spin around the block in the morning, he thought.
Tien wasn't excited. It was just an old car. She continued tapping away on the v
-phone. “Huh, this is weird. Joanne's phone doesn't seem to be working right.” Dylan didn't pay attention to what she said. He circled around the vehicle, marveling at the vehicles' beauty.
“I'm going to see what in the kitchen. I'm hungry,” she said, heading out of the garage. Dylan snapped out of his enchantment, realizing he was hungry too. “Wait up.” He jogged to catch up to her.
In the kitchen, Dylan looked over Tien's shoulder as she opened the refrigerator door. It was almost empty, but there was a few things they could eat. Dylan spotted a six pack of bottled beer on the top shelf. “Not my brand but it will due.” Tien grabbed two of the beers, handing one to Dylan. “After a day like this, my preference not to drink alcohol, forget that,” she said.
He pulled off the side of the fridge a magnetic bottle opener, opened Tien's beer, then his own. Dylan smiled, “Skoal!” She raised her bottle to meet Dylan's, “Cheers!” Dylan guzzled a third of the bottle before putting it down on the counter. “You're right, after a day like this!”
Dylan gave Tien another smile, then a more intense look. She returned the smile, then looked away, momentarily afraid to look into his eyes. He moved closer to her, lifting the bottle out of her hand and putting it on the counter. Tien turned to face him, looked into his eyes, and moved closer to him. They kissed slowly, tenderly at first. Tien threw her arms around his neck. He brought his hands around her waist. They kissed more passionately, kissing faster and harder, throwing themselves completely at one another. Dylan undid most of the buttons of her shirt, pulling it off, over her head. Tien unbuckled his belt, then the waistband button to his jeans.
It was only a few seconds later before Tien managed to summon her will and push him away with both of her arms. “Stop! We have to stop,” she said halfheartedly. “What, what is it,” he protested. She spoke more forcefully, “No, we can't do this!” She managed to break free from him and stood a few feet back. She wiped her forearm against her mouth. She took a deep breath before picking up her shirt from the floor. “We have to stay alert. Keep on our toes right now. We don't know what to expect here.” There was an awkward pause before Dylan spoke, “I apologize. It was my fault getting carried away like that.” Tien was quick to respond, “It's not your fault. It takes two to tango.” She put her shirt back on. “We have to stay in survival mode.” She put a hand on Dylan's arm, rubbing it softly. “I know this sucks. But our job right now is to stay alive.” “Yeah....you're right,” he said.
Tien changed the subject. “Joanne's v-phone isn't working for some reason. The web browser isn't connecting to the net. It's reporting a strong 7G wireless signal.” She tapped away at the display for another few seconds. “Can you take a look?” She handed the phone over to Dylan. “Did you reboot it?” he asked. “No, I wasn't sure if it was password protected. And I can't call Joanne's land line. It's be too risky. Even if she was still at home.”
Dylan looked over the v-phone. “OK, I'll take look. I may have to reboot it.” Tien started walking out of the kitchen. “There's a laptop on that small desk in the living room. I'm going to try to use it. Hopefully she has her password written down somewhere.” Dylan went to work on the v-phone. But not before taking another chug of beer, finishing off the bottle.
He fiddled with the phone for a couple of minutes, it was no use. The phone and browser apps were locked. Everything else appeared to work normally. Strange, he thought. Then powered off and on the device. While he waited for the phone to boot up he opened the refrigerator door, kneeling down to get the best view of the bottom shelf. “There has to be something in here we can eat,” he spoke to himself. He pulled out an unopened package of Monterrey Jack cheese and grabbed another beer.
The v-phone had booted up by the time he walked into the pantry. There wasn't much of anything on the shelves. The owner probably wanted the cupboards bare, like the refrigerator, before leaving on vacation. Off to the side, in the back of one of the shelves, Dylan spied an unopened box of rice crackers. “Yes!” he couldn't contain his enthusiasm for the simple treat.
He tapped away at the v-phone settings in between cutting up slices of cheese and stuffing the food in his mouth. What the hell is this. He discovered that the phone had a virtual private network established that blocked the network browser app. Even stranger, the VPN stayed up between reboots. He cut a bunch more slices of cheese, putting them on a plate, next to the remaining crackers.
Dylan carried the plate of cheese and crackers into the other room, placing them on the desk by Tien. “Thanks,” she said, picking up a cracker and placing a slice of cheese on top. “There's something strange with Joanne's phone. There's a VPN running that I can't identify and I can't stop. Do you use fixed, non-terminating VPN's to connect to your command centers?”
Tien looked quizzically at Dylan. “No. We use VPN's but they're designed to always terminate automatically after the transmission is complete. That's a standard security measure. Anyways, I can't find a password written down anywhere. So I'm going to try to enter the list of the usual passwords. Then I'll try to guess at what the woman might have used. It's worth a try,” she said. “If I had my v-phone I'd call up a password breaker and be in that computer within three minutes. But then again, if I had my v-phone we wouldn't need that laptop,” Dylan said with a grin. Tien ate a couple more crackers. “True,” she said, nodding her head in agreement.
“I'll let you be,” he said, taking another swig of his beer.
Dylan strode aimlessly around the house, while Tien went to work on the laptop. He took the stairs to the second floor, wandering about without any particular destination. Peaking his head into a bathroom, then a guest bedroom. He entered the master bedroom, admiring the furniture and the king size bed. Opening the closet, he looked around, then mindlessly ran his hands over the rack of woman's clothes. Clothes, something stirred in his mind. It was a long day, so many things had happened. He thought what he really needed was to climb into bed and get a good nights sleep. With Tien by his side. Then it hit him. “Shit!” he yelled out loud, putting down the half empty beer and running out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Tien looked up at the ceiling when she heard Dylan swear, then back at the laptop. She had her own problems. She couldn't gain access to the system, the owner was one of the few people who actually used a secure password. She leaned back in her chair. “No luck,” she said to herself.
Dylan was out of breath when he reached the family room. “Who else knew about your plans to try to convert me to your side?” She stood up and shrugged her shoulders, “Just Joanne. David knew I was to try to get close to you. But he wasn't provided the details of the plan. All our assignments are on a need to know basis. Why do you ask?” He got up close to Tien and grabbed both of her arms. “Goodman knew of your plans for the past seven weeks. How could he have known that?” he said. Tien's facial expression changed from puzzled to serious. She suddenly realized she wasn't thinking as clearly as she should have, as she was trained to think. She grew angry with herself for not grilling Dylan with more questions about everything he knew. “Joanne would never have betrayed me. I mean, I trust her with my life,” she said. Dylan shot back, “If she's the only one that knew. Then it had to be her that was the informant who told Goodman of your plans. It couldn't be anyone else!”
They each gave one another a wide eyed look, acknowledging the possibility of betrayal. Immediately, without saying a word, they began checking their clothing for tracking devices. Quickly examining his shirt and pants, Dylan could find nothing. He sat down to take off his shoes. Tien checked the seams to her shirt first. Nothing. She checked the pockets to her jeans. She felt a lump the size of a quarter in the change pocket located above the right side pocket. She dug the circular object out and starred at it for a brief moment. “God Dammit!” she raised her voice. Dylan pounced to his feet, his left shoe untied. She placed the tracking device into his hand, as if to prove it existed. Dylan clenched it in his hand.
Tien was enraged. �
�She must have planted it while she was helping Brooksie bring a change of clothes for us,” she said. Dylan turned in a half circle, his left hand holding the back of his head. “It doesn't add up. Why hasn't Homeland Security already arrested us by now?” Dylan asked. “Unless,” Tien paused to formulate her idea, “Unless, she stored her codes for the tracking device in her v-phone. This phone. DHS wouldn't know what signal to lock in on if they didn't have the codes, usually a serial number. Maybe it was plain dumb luck me asking her for the phone.” “Yeah, but the phone has GPS!” Dylan said frantically. “It would take longer for them to get the customer data from the phone company and trace the GPS signal. But not that much longer,” Tien said, a worried look crossed her face. “We have to get out of here,” Dylan said, running for the kitchen where he left the car keys on the counter. Tien threw the tracking device and v-phone on the floor, before dashing off to follow Dylan.
Tien reached the door for the garage first. Once inside she turned on the lights and rushed over to the panel on the wall, looking for which switch opened the automatic garage door. Dylan following behind a fraction of a second later, hit the unlock button on the key chain for the Jaguar as he ran. The car emitted a chirping sound, followed by the clicking of the doors unlocking. Thank God, he thought. Dylan jumped into the drivers seat and jammed the key into the ignition. The Jaguar roared to life. Tien couldn't find the switch. The labels where screwed up. Then it dawned on her. “Open garage door,” she called out. The garage doors began to open.
