Off the Grid (A Gerrit O'Rourke Novel)

by Young, Mark

  He studied Gerrit for a moment. “How was your flight…Mr. Gerrity?” It was the first smile Kane cracked.

  “Long and tiring. Senator Summers sends his regards.”

  Kane’s smile widened. “Make sure you still have your valuables after that man shakes your hand. Sneaky as all get-out.”

  “I wouldn’t know, Mr. Kane. It was the first time I met him.”

  “And what did the good senator tell you about all this?”

  “Matter of national security and you’d explain everything.”

  Kane shook his head, strands of white hair falling into his face, only to be pushed back into place. “Senator Summers always wants to play it safe. The ol’ boy gives himself plausible deniability in case something goes wrong. Are you one of those guys who wants to play it safe?”

  Gerrit met his stare without blinking. “I don’t know what we’re talking about. Anyone who knows me can tell you I like to get the job done. Whatever it takes.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard. But I like to size up a man face-to-face. Helps me to determine if he’s got true grit. Ya know what I mean?”

  Shifting in his chair, Gerrit leaned forward. “No offense, Mr. Kane, but I’m really tired. Tired of all this down-home, ya’ll come by bull. I got a senator who won’t give me spit. A spook who hands me falsified credentials with my mug plastered on them—a felony, I might add. And I fly over two continents to meet with a man who wants to know if I’ve got true grit?”

  Gerrit felt himself heat up. “How’s this for grit?” he said, trying to calm down. “Based upon that nebulous meeting in D.C., I’m ordered to use those fake documents to pass through security on a trip that might have something to do with national security. Nobody tells me squat about who sanctioned this operation. Now, I’m not an attorney, but I’m smart enough to know that if this operation is illegal—my goose is cooked. I could face ten years in federal prison and be fined $250,000 just for what I did back there at Dulles. And that’s just for starters. Not to mention, my career in law enforcement would be toast. Is that enough grit?”

  “Good enough. Look, why don’t you get a little shut-eye. I know you have a lot of questions and I intend answering every one of them. In good time. First thing in the morning, we’ll catch a chopper and head up the coast to a place where we operate. It is safe to talk there.”

  The door opened behind Gerrit. He turned and saw Lefty holding the door.

  “Show Mr. O’Rourke to his room. Give him whatever he needs.” Kane turned toward Gerrit. “Have a good sleep, partner. Tomorrow, I promise…all your questions will be answered.”

  Gerrit walked toward the door as Lefty led the way. Somehow, he didn’t believe Kane. He sensed the man never revealed everything. Just enough to get his way.

  Tomorrow, Gerrit had better get some answers or he was history.

  Chapter 9

  Harrogate, North Yorkshire, England

  A black Agusta A-109 helicopter lifted off the heliport a few miles from the outskirts of Harrogate after dropping off its passengers. Gerrit gripped his bag, watching the sleek chopper climb higher against a sheet-metal gray sky. Storm clouds threatened in the west.

  Richard Kane, flanked by Lefty and another man, waited at the edge of the landing site. Once Kane saw Gerrit walking toward them, he wheeled around, making long strides toward what appeared to be a small yet pretentious stone castle—Kane’s headquarters.

  A white gravel path wound between closely shorn lawns, neatly clipped grass looking like huge putting greens one after another, and beds of bushes and what promised to be flowering plants by next spring. Now, a harsh winter severed most of the leaves, leaving dead stems and freshly turned soil. Their destination, a gray limestone mansion replete with stone turrets at each of the four corners of the building.

  Great location for snipers. Gerrit looked for signs of increased security. As he drew closer, a dark pod under one of the eaves caught his attention. A surveillance camera. Once he spotted that one, others were easier to pick out. Based on their locations on this side of the building, he surmised there was no way to approach this building without discovery.

  Near a grove of trees to his far right, Gerrit saw a dark rectangular box—an unattended ground sensor—its blackened antenna sticking up like a slender finger near the trunk of one tree. He hadn’t seen these since his days overseas, only those in the military had been cruder. They used them around their home base to warn of intruders approaching the camp. He imagined there might be a dozen of these sensors strategically peppered across the estate. They were walking into a well-monitored fortress.

  He had yet to see weapons, but he suspected there might be at least one pointed at him this very second from one of those four turrets. Or from one of the many darkened windows overlooking the grounds.

  They neared a U-shaped building, wrapped around a courtyard replete with bare rose bushes and low-kept hedges struggling to keep their green. Lefty dashed ahead and opened a ponderous wooden door. Kane and the others passed through before the ex-boxer slammed it closed.

  The quiet serenity of the estate outside changed once they entered the building. A sense of urgency seemed to fill the air as they walked across the main floor. Many of the rooms had been turned into small business centers, desks sat back-to-back, manned by men and women in conservative business attire. Hardly anyone looked up as Kane and his entourage swept upstairs.

  Gerrit and the others came to an office that overlooked the same grounds they covered from the helicopter. Large, paned-glass windows allowed dreary illumination from outside to creep into this massive room. Floor-to-ceiling shelves, each bearing rows of leather-bound books, crafted into the walls on all fours sides, except where doorways and a fireplace demanded their space. A desk stood in the center of the room, surrounded by several club chairs and a sofa. A fire crackled in the hearth—built from Blu Venato d´Italia marble—and warmth from the flames fought the cold trying to creep in from outside.

  After settling himself at the desk, Kane waved the others away and motioned Gerrit to take one of the chairs.

  “Now, let’s get down to business. Not to be melodramatic, but I sincerely believe our country’s future security is at stake. I—and the people I represent—intend to meet that challenge head-on. We could use your help.”

  “I’m a local cop. What can I offer?”

  For a moment, Kane seemed to be pondering Gerrit’s question. “I’ve read your file, Gerrit. You’re much more than a cop. A lot more.”

  “I’ve got a few science degrees and I served in the military. Is that what you’re getting at?”

  “Precisely. You’ve got a scientist’s brain, and you’ve got behind-the-lines military experience. I need a man just like you.”

  “Those skills might be useful in war, but I’m no longer in the military. And I’m behind the ball with regard to what I studied at MIT. What do you want from me—exactly?”

  “Before I tell you, let me explain what I do.”

  “Senator Summers said you’re a businessman.”

  “Actually, that’s only one of the hats I wear. I only use my business interests as a means to an end.”

  “An end to what?”

  “I’ll share all that later. For now, all you need to know is that I am a…facilitator, a consultant, to our government and other interested parties.”

  “Interested parties?”

  Kane leaned his hands on the desktop and pushed back in his chair. “My main objective is not important. Not for the mission at hand.”

  Gerrit felt uneasy about Kane’s vagueness. “Does this mission have anything to do with ECHELON’s major facilities only a few miles away at RAF Menwith Hill?”

  Kane started to smirk, but then seemed to catch himself. “Ah yes. Everyone’s heard of ECHELON, that so-called ultra secret network whereby our five allied governments spy on the world by listening in and monitoring all electronic communications worldwide. That ECHELON?”

  Gerrit nodded.


  “We are so far beyond that, my boy. I received permission to share certain classified information with you.” He stood, gesturing to Gerrit. “Come with me. Let’s mosey downstairs.”

  Frustrated, Gerrit stood, watching Kane head toward the door. He felt this man would never get to the point. They walked out into the hallway and down the far end of the corridor, stopping in front of what looked like a service elevator. Gerrit realized this lift—like everything about this place—was more than it appeared.

  Kane peered into an iris scan and then placed his index finger on a print scanner. Once cleared, the door opened and he received authorization to navigate the elevator. Upon reaching a deep subterranean level, the door rolled open and Gerrit saw another whole floor—absent any windows—spreading out before him, much like a police squad room. Offices bordered an open bull pen that contained a number of workstations, each cubicle walled by three panels about five feet high. The offices must have been for those supervising the workforce, those minions stationed in cubicles under the watchful eyes of their bosses.

  “This is where our real work takes place,” Kane said. “That stuff upstairs—just window dressing.”

  Gerrit followed Kane along one wall of cubicles until they reached a corner office with Kane’s name stenciled on an opaque glass-paned door. Kane thrust open the door and beckoned him inside. “Okay, now we can talk. There is nothing—at least in today’s technology—that can intercept our conversation here.” He approached the far side of a desk.

  Gerrit sat across from Kane, the older man easing into the chair before speaking. “I need a man who can blend into the scientific community, into a specific field of which you are quite familiar.”

  “Nanotechnology,” Gerrit said. “I’ve been out of that field for more than a decade—a lifetime in my field of study.”

  “You’ve been gone, but you can still speak the language. I need a man who can talk the talk while sifting through the unimportant and extract the important.”

  “Extract the important? What do you mean?”

  Kane leaned forward, cupping his hands together under his chin. “I need you to get your hands on specific research material, pull out the important information, and then sabotage their efforts.”

  “Who are we talking about?”

  A rap on the door interrupted them. Kane leaned over, whispering, “We’ll talk about this later.” Then, in a louder voice, he said, “Come on in, George.”

  A ruddy-faced man nearing seventy entered, followed by a younger and slimmer gentleman. “George Lawton, kind of you to join us.”

  The older man extended a hand to Kane, glancing at Gerrit with interest. “Brought the other chap with me that we spoke about.” George turned to the man next to him. “Henry, say hello to a friend of mine from across the pond. Richard Kane and—”

  “Gerrit O’Rourke,” Kane said, without looking at Gerrit. He seemed to be studying the new man Lawton brought with him. “Gerrit, I’d like to introduce Henry—”

  “Clarke,” the young man said. “Doctor Henry Clarke, actually.” Clarke shook Gerrit’s hand as the two men eyed each other. “Looks like you’re working for me, Dr. O’Rourke. You take orders well?” The man chuckled, but his eyes held no humor.

  Gerrit rose, slightly confused. “Glad to meet you, Doctor.” He turned to Kane for clarification. “I think Mr. Kane was just starting to explain my role in all this.”

  A sly smile emerged on Lawton’s face. “Keeping everyone in the dark as usual, eh, Richard?”

  Kane motioned for the others to have a seat, before looking at Gerrit. “I never got a chance to tell you. Y’all will be traveling to Vienna with Henry here in about a week. Sort of a security detail.”

  “Security? For whom?”

  Henry pompously waved a hand. “Afraid it’s for me, old chap. They think some terrorist may have it in for me.” The younger man crossed his legs and folded his hands, sitting back in the chair as if he were a king holding court.

  Gerrit glanced at Kane. “I’m not sure what—”

  “I’ll go over the details later, Gerrit. I told them about you. And they thought you were an excellent choice for the job.”

  The others nodded. Gerrit settled back onto his chair. Did they also know he was in this country under an assumed name? Since Kane introduced him by his real name, he assumed they knew nothing of his alias.

  More secrets. And it had been a long time since he heard Doctor attached to his name. A long time.

  Kane edged forward. “Dr. Clarke is the foremost authority in quantum computer technology and cyber-security issues.”

  “You flatter me, Mr. Kane. I am one of a hundred scientists puttering around in the dark in this particular field.”

  The man’s thinly disguised arrogance—cloaked in false modesty—rankled Gerrit. There were only a handful of scientists in Clarke’s field that could do what this man does. On the other hand, Gerrit could see why this man might be a high-value target for the enemy—if his own side didn’t shoot him first.

  Kane continued. “Henry, you’re the one they chose to sit on a prestigious international panel for cyber-security technologies. And Dr. O’Rourke will fit very nicely in your entourage to Vienna.”

  Clarke pompously patted Gerrit’s arm. “I’d be honored to have Dr. O’Rourke aboard. My secretary will send you my travel schedule to look over. She’ll make whatever reservations you require.”

  Lawton sat quietly, watching the others interact until he gave Kane a nod. “My office will run interference.”

  “Your office?” Gerrit asked. “Which office might that be?”

  “Let’s just say Her Majesty’s security office is interested in Dr. Clarke’s well-being. Wouldn’t do to have him popped off on my watch, good fellow.”

  MI6.

  Gerrit looked over at Kane, whose face seemed masked at the moment. “No, that would not be good, Mr. Lawton. Let me know what you need from me.”

  “My friend, Mr. Kane, will give you the details. I won’t be seeing you in Vienna, but I will be…available if matters turn sour. I guess we’d better be off, shall we, Dr. Clarke?”

  The scientist shrugged, stood, and was about to leave when Lawton tapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go on ahead, Henry. There’s one small matter I need to discuss with Mr. Kane and Dr. O’Rourke.”

  Clarke looked back curiously and then left the room. Lawton closed the door behind him. “What an arse that man is. Sorry to stick him with you, Dr. O’Rourke. But we needed that clown to give you cover.”

  “Cover?” Gerrit looked from Lawton to Kane.

  Lawton nodded his chin at Kane. “Richard, why don’t you give our boy here the details.”

  Chapter 10

  Gerrit saw the two men exchange glances before Kane leaned forward, eyeing Gerrit for a moment before turning to Lawton. “First, I wanna make sure you know all about our boy here, George.”

  Lawton shook his head. “I’ll take your word that this is our man. That’s all I need to know.”

  Kane leaned forward. “No, no, George. I want you to know why I’ve picked this good ol’ boy for the job.”

  Gerrit shifted in his seat, feeling like this was some kind of job interview for a job he never signed up for—nor wanted. And if Kane called him boy once more, Gerrit was going to grab that long-haired creep’s silver locks and give him a Mohawk.

  Kane reached into a drawer and pulled out a bulging file folder. “Just so I don’t forget anything, I’ve jotted down a few notes about our boy here. Quite a history.” He glanced up and gave Gerrit a wink.

  Kane’s index finger trailed down a page before turning to the next. “Bachelor of Science degree in 1991 before joining the U.S Marine Corp, where you entered as an enlisted man. Qualified to serve with Force Recon just before the Persian Gulf War, field-elevated to officer status based on combat service and education.”

  Kane shot him a look before continuing. “Let’s see, you left the military in 19
96 and returned to MIT to earn a doctorate in electrical engineering and computer science. Says here you specialized in nanotechnology—something to do with nano electronics.”

  “Mr. Kane, I don’t see how this trip down memory lane tells me why I’m sitting here today. Can we fast-forward to the present?”

  “Patience. My friend George needs to know he’s getting the best. Like we say back home, ‘Don’t call him a cowboy, till you’ve seen him ride.’ My friend here has to know this is not your first time to the rodeo, boy. And I want to refresh my memory about your background while you’re here to correct me—if the record’s wrong.”

  Gerrit leaned back, watching as Kane continued through the file.

  “Now, in 2001 you started a research fellowship at MIT focused on harnessing nanotechnology by creating a…what do you call this—?”

  “A nanofluidic device—”

  “Right, a device capable of detecting biological warfare agents the size of a pinhead.” Kane glanced up. “My, my, boy. That’s got to be tinier than a little ol’ ant.” He returned his gaze to the file. “You just started on that project when they hit the WTC and Pentagon on 9/11. Three months later, you’re called back into military service.” Kane looked at him.

  “I volunteered.”

  “Now why would you go and do something like that?” Kane seemed to be toying with him.

  Gerrit crossed his arms, leaning back. “They needed everyone on board for the Afghan invasion. A couple years later, they sent me to Iraq. So, where are you going with this?”

  Kane lowered the file and clasped his hands together. “That leads us to 2004. Your parents and uncle.”

  Those words sent a knife twisting in Gerrit’s gut. The police files from Seattle PD’s archives at his home came to mind. And on his wall, photos of the blackened car and what was left of his mother and father pinned up for him to face every day. Charred remains, barely enough left to bury after a closed-casket ceremony—a ceremony he missed because he was off fighting a war in the Middle East. Deep ops that lasted long after they lowered his parents into the ground.