“Where?” Rhona called back while she raced across the room.
“Washington, D.C.”
Trixie pointed to a low-quality video feed of a man in the back seat of a car. “He’s in a cab, heading towards Dulles Airport.”
“Why don’t we see him on commercial flights?” Laura asked.
Thoughts of what she would do if she were on the run caused Rhona to cut in with a different question. “How far is it to a smaller airport if you go past Dulles?”
Dulcis answered immediately. “Winchester Regional Airport is about 30 miles west of Dulles.”
“Can we track him to see if he heads there?”
“Yes,” Trixie said emphatically.
Rhona raised an eyebrow. The statement seemed much more definitive than Trixie’s previous answers to similar questions. “Keene and I were only gone a week. What changed?”
“We built several satellites while you were gone and put them in place using a shuttle. We have good coverage of North America and passable coverage of southern Europe. We’ll track him unless he literally goes underground.”
“That brings up another question. Suppose we do continue to track him. What do we do with that information?”
Laura held out both hands, palms up. “He’s a murderer.”
“We know that,” Rhona acknowledged. “However, can we put together a good enough package that Brian Rodabaugh can take it to a judge to get a warrant?”
“I think … so,” Laura responded with a grimace.
“Nah,” Sam said. “Oh, the facts are there, but handing it over will disclose more about our information gathering techniques than we want to reveal.” He turned and looked straight at Laura. “Right?”
“Right,” Laura responded.
Rhona saw the two men exchange looks. She wasn’t surprised when Keene looked at Laura with an icy expression. His hazel eyes seemed empty of expression.
“You should let Sam and me handle this,” Keene pronounced.
Trixie turned sideways and looked away as Laura responded. “What will you do?”
Keene licked his lips. “We won’t personally take any negative physical action. We won’t plant any false information.”
Laura beckoned with her fingers. “You told me what you won’t do rather than what you will do.”
“Nanda and Shyla ended up in his clutches–as did Brenda. Do you want that to happen to someone else?”
“No, but…”
“We recently turned over similar information to the president,” Rhona interjected. “We did it hoping that justice would be served. I’m sure the men can think of something along those lines.”
Uncertainty flashed across Laura’s face and then the mask of a seasoned diplomat settled on her features. “Of course.”
Keene nodded and then looked at Rhona. “Do you want to help?”
Rhona’s heart rate accelerated as she studied Keene’s features. He looked closed and cold rather than welcoming. “Do you need my help, or…”
“I have an idea that should work,” he responded. “Sam can help me put the details together. I’m simply giving you the chance…” His voice trailed off.
The wonderful honeymoon had taken the sharp edge off Rhona’s need for revenge. “I’ll pass, for now. Let me know if you need help.”
“What will you do?” Laura asked as she and Rhona moved across the room.
“We’ve been gone a while. I’ll check in with David Beganovic.”
“Sounds good. This afternoon I want to discuss some ideas for our people in Italy.”
Moments later, Rhona dialed her phone. She tapped her toe while waiting for David to answer.
He picked up. “Hello.”
“This is Rhona. How are things going?”
“Terrible,” he grumped. “Someone leaked information about our investigation last night.”
“Who?”
“A guy in the IG’s office. We thought he was clean.”
Rhona took a deep breath and thought about the Karthi Index. Only a dozen humans even knew about the index. It seemed reliable, and… She shut off the thought. “Can we help?”
“Maybe later. We just sent people out to make about thirty arrests at the same time.”
Still holding the phone after she completed the call, Rhona joined Keene and Sam. “D-Day is now, not in five days,” she announced.
“Why?” Keene asked quickly.
“A mole squealed.”
“Oh.” Keene’s eyebrows bunched together. “Do we know if they’re going after Rucker?”
“Only if he’s in the top thirty.”
“He’s not,” Sam snorted.
Curiosity and the desire to know what was happening pushed aside Rhona’s misgivings about participating in the activity. “What are you going to do?”
Keene sounded sour. “We just checked with Dulcis. Rucker and his three sidekicks are on the move again. They’re heading east, towards DC. They must have driven all night. They just reached West Virginia.”
“Why?”
Keene’s humorless chuckle spoke volumes. “I think he’s heard about the investigation and he’s covering his tracks.”
“Rucker just took a phone call,” Trixie called out.
“We’re going to be busy,” Keene told Rhona and then turned away.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “What will you do?”
He patted her hand. “We’re going to start by sending a few anonymous messages. We’ll go with the flow after that.”
“Ah.” Rhona stood thinking deeply as Keene rejoined Sam and Trixie. She heard Trixie say they had identified a leased plane at the Winchester Airport connected to one of Martin’s many aliases.
“You missed taking your treatment today.”
Nanda’s voice started Rhona out of her fugue. “What?”
“You missed–”
“I got it,” Rhona cut in. “I was thinking about Martin.”
Nanda shivered. “You don’t have to say anything else. Why don’t you come down and take the shots now?”
Beverly was leaving the infirmary when Rhona arrived with Nanda. “Hi,” she said cheerfully. “I’m taking a shift at the store today to help Wade out.”
“Have fun,” Rhona called after her. Knowing what to look for, Rhona could make out the slightest baby bump when Beverly turned and waved.
“How’s she doing?” Rhona asked as she pointed at Beverly.
“Great,” Nanda replied.
“How about the baby?”
“Everything is on track.” Nanda’s voice was smooth, but her eyes flashed white for a few moments.
Rhona smiled. “Confess.”
“You asked for it,” Nanda replied with a wide smile. “She’s carrying the first baby conceived to treated humans. I’ve been watching it very close.”
Thoughts of her recent activities with Keene brought a sharp edge to Rhona’s voice. “Are you expecting problems?”
“No, but, there was some uncertainty on how many of the changes propagated to the baby. We didn’t specifically target modifications at the ovaries.”
Rhona persisted, “Well, how many?”
“I’m running more simulations after sampling her DNA,” Nanda said while she gestured towards the machine that administered shots. “I am certain the baby will be highly disease resistant and she should live 250 to 300 years even without treatments or supplements.”
“Beverly’s going to have a girl?”
“That’s right.” Nanda frowned. “You might keep that to yourself. She hasn’t asked and I haven’t told.”
Rhona leaned against the shot machine, thinking about how she was letting Nanda tinker with her body. It no longer seemed like an alien thought. When the machine finished the shot, she ran her fingers up and down one arm
. “How much armor do I have?”
“Look at this,” Nanda called out a command and two life-sized holograms of Rhona, sans clothing, appeared in the middle of the room. “The one on the right is before we started. The one on the left is today.”
“What am I looking for?”
Nanda stepped closer and pointed. “See these dark shadows over your chest and head and fainter shadows along your legs and arms?”
“Yes.”
“The armor is growing everywhere, but it will be thickest over critical regions. You’ve reached the point where a typical knife cut to your chest probably wouldn’t penetrate the armor.”
Rhona cupped her breasts in her hands. “I can feel changes here.”
“Did Keene notice?” Nanda asked.
Rhona blushed even though she knew the Abantu were more casual talking about sex than most humans. “He did make a couple of comments.”
Chapter 41 – Murderous Firefight
In the Intelligence Center, Keene chewed on his thumbnail as he considered the options. They had enough information that a jury would most likely indict Rucker and his sidekicks for murder, provided they didn’t throw the case out for illegal data collection methods. They had similar information on Martin, but he had proven adroit at slipping out of legal messes. The two men hated each other–perhaps the best thing to do would be to orchestrate a meeting.
Keene looked at Sam and then at Trixie standing near him. He made a shooing gesture at Trixie. “You shouldn’t help us this time.”
She stood there for a long time with a stubborn look on her face. Finally, her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “Okay.” She turned and walked away.
Sam watched his fiancée move across the room before turning back to Keene. “What are you thinking, boss man?”
“Rucker and Martin both have moles in the same NSA office.”
“That’s right.” Sam massaged his temples with his fingertips. “Ah, I’m beginning to see the plan. Both of those guys need to discover new information.”
Keene nodded. “We need to work fast. Rucker is probably five hours out and Martin should reach his plane within the hour.”
“If he actually has a plane,” Sam said.
“Call Trixie back and have her check out every plane on the ground at Winchester Airport. Also, see if anyone has filed a flight plan to land in the next few hours.”
“I know how to do that,” Sam protested.
Keene patted Sam on the shoulder. “I know, but I need your devious mind to help me figure out how to handle the moles.”
A few minutes later, Trixie interrupted Keene and Sam’s planning huddle. “You were right. A plane Martin is leasing is scheduled to land in Winchester in an hour.”
Keene clenched his fist in short-lived satisfaction. “That’s great. What kind of plane? How long has he been leasing it?”
“Three years.”
“Oh. Longer than I expected. What kind?”
“It’s an Embraer Phenom. It typically seats six, including two crew members, and has a fully loaded range of 1,350 nautical miles.”
Keene ran his fingers through his hair. “Are there any incoming passengers?”
“One plus the pilot,” Trixie responded as she called up a new display. “We haven’t figured out the passenger yet. The pilot has been associated with Martin for over ten years. He has worked full-time for Martin for the last three years.”
“Thanks, Trixie. I have one more request. How would we keep the plane on the ground for a couple of hours, if necessary?”
Trixie smiled. “They have a digital avionics system. It should be easy to insert a bug or two.”
“Please go figure it out,” Keene said. He turned back to Sam when Trixie moved away. “Here’s the first step…”
Fifteen minutes later, they finished planting initial information for Rucker’s mole. He quickly discovered it and sent a message to one of the three men traveling with Rucker.
“That was quick,” Sam commented. “No wonder they have been able to hide for so long.”
Keene shook his head and groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
“I haven’t been thinking clearly. Rucker and Martin are both wolves. They’ll fight when they see each other.”
“That’s what we expect,” Sam agreed.
Keene threw up his hands. “Collateral damage? Innocent people hurt?”
“Ah…” Sam let out a long sigh. “There will be collateral damage.”
“I can live with property damage,” Keene said. “However, I don’t want to see bystanders getting hurt, or worse yet, getting killed.”
“We can’t guarantee that from a long distance and maybe not even if we were there.”
“Should we drop this approach?”
“It’s too promising,” Keene said. “We can still honor our promise to Laura even if we do go.”
Keene called Rhona over for a discussion, and then they called in Craig Anstow. Not long afterward, four chariots took to the sky with humans at the controls. Time was running short for them to arrive before Rucker, so Keene led the way as they boosted past the sound barrier.
As they circled the airport, Keene reverted to planning mode, knowing the others would collect data to support their approach. “Where will Martin’s plane refuel?” he asked.
“Not at the passenger terminal,” Karen Wahl reported. She was riding in Craig’s chariot. “The refueling facilities for private planes are at the east end of the airport.”
Rhona was riding with Keene. “Martin is waiting in the passenger terminal.”
Keene persisted with questions, knowing he didn’t yet have a good plan. “Does the plane need to refuel?”
“He came out of Charleston, South Carolina. He should still have two-thirds of a load if he topped off before leaving.”
“Let’s do it this way,” Keene said. “Give the pilot a sensor blip about engine trouble just as he hits the runway. Then shut down one of his engines after he gets over on the taxiway. We want him to stop before he gets close to a building.”
The plan went without a hitch. The plane landed and then parked a distance from any building. The passenger fetched Martin while the pilot read diagnostics and consulted on the phone with company mechanics. He eventually located the small fuse Dulcis had shorted out with a minor redirection of existing energy.
Time passed at a snail’s pace for the observers as Rucker’s car moved inexorably closer. Martin fired up his computer, sent a coded message to his mole encouraging alertness, and then switched to issuing financial strategy commands.
Finally, Sam broke the monotony. “Rucker just arrived. His car is two blocks from the airport entrance.”
“Look lively,” Keene responded. He pulled his chariot around so it was over the road Rucker was using. Just as he expected, the car drove along the road that provided several views of the 5,500-foot runway.
At one point, the small jet was visible from the road between hangar buildings. Rucker’s car passed that point and then turned around at the next driveway. It moved back one driveway entrance and pulled off the street.
“There’s a gate across every access road,” Keene muttered. “What will you do?” The gates were an integral part of the eight-foot wire fence that separated vehicle traffic from aviation traffic.
Rucker’s car pulled out on the street again and moved back to the first place it had turned around. Keene moved his chariot closer. The onboard optical sensors were so good they could see every speck of dust in the car.
“They’re going for it,” Rhona said when a man emerged from Rucker’s car and walked around behind it. The trunk popped open and he pulled out long-handled bolt cutters. A few quick strides and he reached the gate. They saw his face turn red with effort as he cut through a chain and then through the drive-belt to th
e electric motor that pulled the grate open. He pushed, and the gate moved sideways, leaving enough space for the car to pass.
They had already studied the electronic security systems around the airport. Rhona checked a sensor and then spoke quickly. “They tripped an alarm in the security office. We’ll see how fast someone responds.”
The man with the bolt cutters scrambled back in the car. It surged ahead, swerving around the hanger and then headed towards Martin’s plane.
A mildly agitated male voice crackled over another circuit Rhona was monitoring. “Attention. We have a potential security breach. Please report any unusual activity to the security office.”
Thirty seconds later, Rucker’s car screeched to a halt next to Martin’s plane. The plane had been sitting with the cabin door open and the stairway extended. Someone on the plane must have been watching because Keene saw the motorized stairway start to rise.
By this time, all of the chariots were close to the parked plane. Concerned about collateral damage, Keene issued a command. “Box them in!”
All four chariots darted down with shields extended to the maximum. Three of them ringed the plane and car, separating them from the nearest hanger and the distant passenger terminal. The other one settled on the far side of the plane, separating it from a manufacturing complex on the other side of the runway.
Three men bounded from the car and darted to the plane, not appearing to sense the invisible observers. Two of them thrust suitcases into the closing space as the stairway rose. The third man, carrying the bolt cutters, stepped close and severed one of the lifting cables. Moments later, he severed the other cable. The stairway slammed down.
The fourth man, Rucker, exited from the car as one of his men darted up the stairway carrying a pistol. There was the sound of shots and the man fell back through the door. He must have been wearing body armor because he rolled over and surged to his feet.
Two more of Rucker’s people bounded up the stairway. They were already triggering shots when they entered the plane. The flurry of shots increased as Rucker and the last man entered the plane, and then it died down.
Somehow, Martin’s laptop computer survived the barrage of shots. Rhona routed the feed from the laptop microphone through the chariot speakers. At first, they only heard groans and loud breathing, and then a male voice spoke. “You killed my sister!”
Variations on Humanity (WorldWalker Trilogy Book 3) Page 32
