The Second Shooter

by E. A. Briginshaw

  Suddenly he heard the elevator ping again and he looked back to see Laura come racing out. “Henry,” she said when she saw him. She was carrying two large white bags that smelled delicious. “So much for my plan to cook something for you. I was running late so I decided to just pick up supper at that Peking Duck place down the street. I hope that’s okay.”

  She handed Henry the bags as she fumbled to find her keys to open the door. When they were inside, Henry put the bags on the kitchen counter. “These are for you,” he said as he held out the flowers.

  Laura took them in her right hand. “Thanks,” she said as she gave him a hug. When she kissed him, Henry pulled her in tight. Suddenly the flowers hit the floor and clothes started flying off in every direction.

  Supper could wait.

  * * *

  “This actually tastes pretty good cold,” Laura said as she came walking back into the bedroom. She pulled off a piece of the duck and fed it to Henry. They continued to nibble on the duck, and each other, for the next few hours.

  “I’m sorry for thinking there was something going on between you and Todd,” Henry said. “I should have known I could trust you.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Laura said as she sat up. “It turns out you weren’t totally wrong.”

  Henry sat up, confused.

  “Not from my side, but it turns out that Todd may have been looking for something more. I didn’t even see it myself until Sam pointed it out.”

  Henry turned and started to get out of bed.

  “But I set him straight,” Laura said as she reached out to hold him. “I told him that I’m totally committed and in love with you.”

  “I knew he had some kind of agenda going on. So you’re not going to have anything more to do with him? No more working together? No more – anything?”

  “No, I promise.”

  She pulled Henry back into bed and just lay in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

  As she lay there, she couldn’t help but think about the voice-mail Todd had left her. He said he was going away for a while – maybe forever. What was he going to do?

  *** Chapter 18 ***

  David slowly walked out of University Stadium after their early morning soccer practice. The coach had worked the team particularly hard that morning, not because they’d lost their game against York, but because they’d sagged in the second half after building up a two-nil lead in the first. York had scored a goal late in the game and almost got the equalizer in injury time. To say the coach was a little pissed would be an understatement.

  Since David’s residence was only a few blocks from the stadium, he had decided to walk to practice that morning, something that his aching muscles now regretted. As he turned onto Seagram Drive, he noticed a black Town Car idling along the side of the road. The tinted windows hid who was inside.

  David briefly considered crossing to the other side of the street so he wouldn’t have to walk by the car, but then convinced himself that he was just being paranoid. As he approached the car, the window on the passenger side hummed as it slowly lowered.

  “Can I give you a lift?” the man inside asked.

  David crouched down so he could see who was asking the question. The man looked to be about sixty years old and was very well dressed. Since he had only met him once, it took David a few seconds to recognize that it was Simon Westbrook, the head of the secret society.

  “Mr. Westbrook. What can I do for you?”

  “Get in, get in,” Mr. Westbrook said as he waved for David to get into the car. “It’s best if we talk in private.”

  David took a quick look around to see if anyone else was watching, but the only people he saw were a few of his teammates walking in the other direction. He opened the car door and climbed in.

  “I hear things have been pretty exciting for you of late,” Mr. Westbrook said as he slowly pulled away from the curb.

  “Scary would be a better word,” David said.

  Mr. Westbrook took a quick glance at David. “I’m sure it was.”

  Mr. Westbrook made several unnecessary turns, continually checking his rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. David was surprised when he turned off Westmount Drive and down a small deserted road that led to the Environmental Reserve. He pulled off to the side of the road.

  “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been able to pick up any messages because the cops took my laptop,” David said. “I had to give it to them or else they would have put me in jail.”

  “Don’t worry about that. They won’t find anything on the laptop. We’ll get you another one, but it’s probably best if you keep a low profile for the time being. They’re watching you, you know.”

  David did have an eerie feeling that he was being watched. This just confirmed it.

  “We know that the packages you distributed were all received,” Mr. Westbrook said. “All except one. Do you still have the seventh package?”

  “No, I was never told who to deliver it to, so I just hid it. The police were after me. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “Should I go get it and bring it to you?”

  “No, you’ve already done enough. Is it safe where it is?”

  “I think so.”

  “Anyone else know where it is?”

  “Yeah, but I think we can trust him. He hid me from the police when they were chasing me.”

  Mr. Westbrook looked concerned. “What’s his name?”

  “Nigel Livingston. He’s a professor in the Quantum-Nano Centre on the Waterloo campus. He taped the microchip to the back of the picture of his wife on his desk. He said he’d keep it safe.”

  “How are you supposed to get it back from him?”

  “He said I could just come to his office whenever I wanted it back. I tried, but he wasn’t there. Should I contact him?”

  “No, that would be too dangerous,” Mr. Westbrook said. “Remember, they’re watching you. I’ll make arrangements to get it back.”

  Mr. Westbrook started the car, did a U-turn, and began the drive back to David’s residence. However, he stopped the car a few blocks away. “It’s probably best if I let you out here. Just keep a low profile until we let you know it’s safe.”

  David got out of the car and watched him drive away. When he turned around to walk back to his residence, he was surprised to see Bronx standing in front of him.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Just a friend who gave me a lift.”

  “Must be nice to have friends who drive expensive cars like that. You’ll have to introduce me.”

  “I don’t think he’s your type.” David took a quick look around to see if anyone else was watching him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just walkin’ back to residence. You seem a little spooked. Are you gettin’ yourself into trouble again?”

  “Trouble? What makes you think I’m getting myself into trouble?”

  “You seem to have a knack for finding it. Remember, I can’t really watch your back if you won’t tell me what’s goin’ on.”

  * * *

  Professor Nigel Livingston stared at the picture of his wife on his desk. It was late on a Friday night and his wife had abandoned him for a “ladies weekend” retreat with her friends, leaving him wondering what he was going to do with himself for the next few days.

  He flipped the picture around to see the microchip still securely taped to the back of the picture. He had been fighting his curiosity for weeks now. He really didn’t care what was on the microchip, but because he had been told that it was encrypted, it was like a temptress who continued to taunt and tease him. He had never encountered an encryption he couldn’t crack.

  Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore and he carefully pulled the tape away and loaded the microchip into an external black box that had adapters for every type of memory device known to man. He could see there were two files on the microchip, a large file that
presumably contained the data, and the second, a small file that presumably held the key to unlocking the contents. He copied both files to his computer so he could begin his analysis. Then he re-taped the microchip onto the back of the picture.

  After several hours of work, he still hadn’t cracked the encryption. Everything he tried, failed. Whoever had created this encryption was good, very good. He was missing something. One key to unlocking the content was readily apparent and he had found that within the first hour of his attempt. However, the second key, and he was sure this was a two-key encryption, continued to elude him.

  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was three-thirty in the morning and decided it was time to head home. He would tackle it again tomorrow.

  * * *

  Professor Livingston was sound asleep when he suddenly opened his eyes and bolted straight up in bed.

  “I know what the second key is,” he shouted. Fortunately, he wife wasn’t there to hear his exclamation for it surely would have scared her to death, or at least convinced her that he had finally lost his mind. “The second key is the device itself,” he said to himself. “Brilliant. Every time the data is copied, it uses something on the device itself as a second encryption key. That way, if someone intercepts the data during transmission, they won’t be able to read it unless they have the actual device it was created for. Every copy is different!”

  The clock radio beside his bed showed that it was just after six in the morning, but he had to find out right away if his theory was correct. To do that, he would have to use the microchip that David had given him, not the copy he had put on his computer. He threw on his clothes and raced back to the university.

  He unlocked his office door, raced over to his desk, picked up the picture of his wife and turned it around.

  The microchip was gone.

  * * *

  David was still half asleep when his phone rang. Whoever was calling had called his residence phone rather than his cell phone. That confused him, as all of his friends and family normally called or texted his cell. “Hello,” he said after stumbling out of bed.

  “It’s gone,” the person on the phone said. He hadn’t identified himself, but David knew who it was. “Did you take it?” the professor asked.

  “No, but I think I know who did,” David answered. He was quite sure Simon Westbrook was the one who had arranged to retrieve the microchip.

  “I was expecting you to contact me by now to get it, but I got worried when it suddenly disappeared.”

  “I’m sure everything is okay,” David reassured him. “You shouldn’t have called me on this phone. They may be listening.”

  David was right. Someone was listening.

  * * *

  After he hung up the phone, the professor was frustrated, not because he cared what was on the microchip, but because he wouldn’t be able to prove his theory about how to break the encryption. Or maybe he would. He still had a copy of the files on his computer, but if his theory was correct, it would use a different encryption key.

  “Every copy is encrypted using a different second key,” he mumbled to himself. “Something unique to the particular device.” He was determined to solve the puzzle.

  *** Chapter 19 ***

  “You’re life value is down to zero,” Robert said to Vanessa. “You’re out of the game.”

  Robert had taken Vanessa to one of their Magic games after their study session, loaned her a set of cards so she could play, and was trying to teach her the complicated strategy involved to be successful.

  “Shit – shit – shit,” she said. “I thought for sure I was going to win. What did I do wrong?”

  She was much more into the game than Robert expected. “You were too aggressive,” he said.

  “But isn’t the point of the game to destroy your opponent?”

  “Yes, but you also have to maintain a balance or else your opponent will destroy you.”

  Vanessa was still excited from the game. “Kill, or be killed is my motto.” She reached out and touched Robert’s arm. “This is a really cool game. Thanks for taking me.”

  They continued to talk about strategy as they walked through the deserted campus after the game had finished.

  Robert didn’t want their night to end just yet. “Want to go for coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  They found a table in a small café just off campus and spent the next hour giving each other their life histories. Vanessa reached out to touch his hand when he told her about his mother’s battle with cancer, which she lost when he was seventeen.

  “That must have been rough,” she said.

  “It threw me for a while, but I think it hurt my dad and my brother even more. I hated going home because it felt like a funeral parlour. We used to whisper to each other when we were there – not sure why. But it got better after we moved to a new house and my Grandma came to live with us. She’s the one who pushed us to get on with our lives. Said we had to do something to make our Mom proud.”

  Robert could feel his eyes start to water. “What about your parents?”

  “I never really knew them. They died in a car accident when I was a baby. I was raised by my aunt and uncle.”

  Robert felt the trembling in her hand. “I’m so sorry. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No, just me.”

  Vanessa pulled her hand away as she suddenly sat straight up in her chair. “No time to feel sorry for yourself my uncle used to say. He was in the military.” She lowered her voice as if she was imitating him. “A good soldier doesn’t cry. There’s work to be done here. Back to your post.”

  Vanessa looked a little embarrassed. She avoided looking at Robert and looked around the café. “Isn’t that your brother sitting over there?”

  Robert looked over his shoulder. He hadn’t seen David when they first arrived at the café and he had been so engrossed in their conversation since then, he hadn’t noticed much else.

  “Yep, that’s him. I didn’t see him come in.”

  “Should we go over and join him?”

  Robert was getting increasingly annoyed over how everyone seemed to be fascinated with his brother these days. “No, he looks like he’s meeting with one of his professors.” He tried to re-engage Vanessa in their conversation, but he could see that she continually glanced over at his brother.

  “The professor just left,” Vanessa said a few minutes later. “Should we ask him to join us now?”

  “Whoa, is that his girlfriend?” Vanessa said before Robert had a chance to answer.

  Robert looked over his shoulder and saw that Bronx was sitting at the chair vacated by the professor. She was leaning in so there wasn’t much space between them.

  “No, my brother’s got a girlfriend back in our hometown – and that ain’t her.”

  Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

  “We should probably go,” Robert said. “I’ve got a class first thing in the morning.”

  When they got up to leave, David noticed them and immediately increased the space between him and Bronx to a more respectable distance. “Hey,” David said as they walked by. “Sorry, I didn’t see you in here.”

  “Obviously,” Robert said. “I’ll see you back at the residence.”

  * * *

  “Things looked pretty cozy back there at the café,” Robert said when David came through the door of their suite back at the residence.

  “We’re just friends,” David said. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Really? All evidence to the contrary.”

  “Really,” David said. “I’ve told Bronx a million times that I’ve already got a girlfriend.”

  “Well, you’re not acting like you do. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  David hated how Robert seemed to act more like his father than his brother now that they were away from home. He was old enough to live his own life and make his own decisions. “Just stay out of it.” He headed into his bedroom, slammi
ng the door shut behind him.

  It was about five minutes later when David opened the door again and came back into the small living room. He threw himself onto the chair.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he said to Robert. “Ashley is a great girlfriend. She’s smart, she’s good-looking. I feel really comfortable when I’m with her. She’s perfect in every way.”

  “I feel a but coming,” Robert said.

  David buried his head in his hands. “But Bronx excites me. I don’t really know much about her at all. She’s pushy as hell – at times, she can be a real pain in the ass – but…”

  Robert knew his brother was not the type of person to string two girls along. “I think you know what you have to do.”

  “Really? Cause I have no clue.”

  “It’s easy,” Robert said. “All you have to do is decide.”

  “Easier said, than done.”

  * * *

  David tossed and turned all night as he struggled with his decision. He bolted awake just after seven – with a plan. It was obvious what he had to do. It seemed so logical and simple. He’d known Ashley for years – knew everything about her. But he didn’t know much about Bronx at all. Maybe that’s why he was fascinated with her. He would simply get to know Bronx a little better. Then he’d have all of the facts – the pros and cons of each of them. A simple apples-to-apples comparison would make the decision easy. He had a plan.

  “Meet for lunch at the café?” he texted Bronx.

  “Sure,” came the response a few seconds later. “Have class until 11:30. 11:45?”

  “OK,” David texted back.

  He arrived about fifteen minutes early, a rarity for him, and found a small table-for-two tucked into the corner of the café. He threw his backpack onto the seat to hold the table and then went to the counter to order a sandwich and a smoothie. When he sat down, he made sure he’d be able to see Bronx as soon as she came through the door.