by David Archer
“Are you aware of the mission I’m going out on?” Noah asked.
Wally nodded excitedly. “Yes, yes, Allison told me about it. This is gonna be exciting. I don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas yet, ideas on how you want to handle things?”
“Not really,” Noah said. “I only just learned about the mission this morning, and I’ve just had my first training session on the character I’ll be using. I really wanted to pick your brain a bit. The way I understand it, there may be as many as a few dozen people I’m going to have to eliminate. I’m hoping you might be able to come up with some kind of techno-wizardry to help me accomplish this.”
“Wow, so many? And from what I gathered, you’re gonna have to bide your time a while and then take them out pretty much all at once, right?”
“That’s how it sounds.”
Wally leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, steepling his fingers under his chin. “A big bunch of people, and they all have to die at around the same time, but you may not be able to get them all together in one place. Wow, this is going to be a tricky one. Let me think, let me think.”
Noah sat quietly for almost ten minutes while E & E’s resident evil genius let his brain consider the problem. Except for the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest, there was no other sign that Wally was even alive, let alone aware that he had a guest in the office.
Suddenly, Wally sat forward again and clapped his hands together. “I’ve got one,” he said. “Remember the 3-D printer I gave you once? The one that can make just about anything out of some super-high-powered explosives?”
“Yes, and I’d thought about that myself. Is it still available?”
“Oh, hell, yes,” Wally said. “You’re the only team who has actually used it, but you did so with such great success on that mission that I actually had a couple of extras built. We also found ways to make its products even more functional. For example, we added some designs into its database that are extremely useful, like cell phone cases, pens, sunglasses, belt buckles, lots of stuff that you could make and give to people. You give somebody a pen—it looks like something fancy you could buy in a store, but it’s really just a case made of our explosive with all the guts from a real pen inside. Or you give them a pair of sunglasses, then when the time comes it explodes and takes their entire head off. And the new detonator uses a microburst of radio waves to set it off—it’s basically just a microchip. Tiny.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Of course, you can also make bigger things. The latest version fits into a footlocker-sized case, but the top comes off and all four sides fold down, so the actual device expands to the point that you can make something as big as the fender of a small car. I think it’s up to four and a half feet by two feet by three feet, something like that.”
Noah looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “I definitely want that,” he said. “Allison suggested that anything you send me should be disguised as some of Neil’s computer equipment. Is that possible?”
Wally burst out laughing. “Neil is a computer geek,” he said. “You know who buys fancy 3-D printers? Computer geeks. I doubt anybody would really think much about him having one, even a big expensive one like this. Allison says you’re gonna be there for a while, right? All you gotta do is have him make lots of things you can give away to the people you want to eliminate. Oh, and those new microdetonators actually receive cell signals, now, so you can let them wander around for weeks and then set them all off at once by simply sending the proper detonation code. The code is an encrypted string of characters—the odds of them being set off accidentally would be like the odds of a black hole opening on the earth and only capturing one person. About as close to impossible as you can imagine.”
“Wait,” Noah said. “You mean, I could have Neil make stuff that I could give to these people, things they might keep with them all the time, and then set them off all at once? If it uses cell signals, what’s the range limitation? How close do I have to be to set them off?”
“Noah, you could be at the South Pole. The detonation transmitter is built into a special satellite phone. You dial one number, and every detonator that has been activated will receive the signal. If you have programmed them all to a single detonation code, they all go off at once, no matter where they are in the world. As long as there is a cell signal that can reach them, they’re gonna go boom!”
Noah stared at the geeky, balding man for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “That might just be the answer,” he said. “What other kind of ideas would you have?”
Wally grinned, and Noah had a sudden mental image of a shark. “Well, let’s think about it,” Wally said. “You’re going to be dealing with criminals, and most of them are probably going to be armed. What about guns? We’ve got one of the 3-D printers set up here, and it can make perfect replicas of any gun. They would actually work, actually fire, and yet the entire frame would be made of explosives. The detonator would be embedded in a thick part, so it would go off when you sent the signal. The one I send with Neil could make them, too.”
Noah nodded but almost seemed to frown. “That could be good, but I was actually thinking of something not related to the printer,” he said. “Would you have any other ideas how I might approach the problem?”
“Oh, oh, I see,” Wally said. “Well, the first thing that comes to mind is religion.”
“Religion? I’m not sure I understand.”
“Well, not religion per se,” Wally said. “I’m thinking of something along the lines of a particular philosophy that you might introduce to this group of criminals. If we could come up with something that they would embrace, you could probably arrange to have the ones you want to target attend something like a meeting, maybe a training seminar. Get them into the habit, and then you would be able to gather them all together in one location.”
Noah narrowed his eyes and thought about what Wally had said. “I think I see your point,” he said. “I’m just not sure what kind of philosophy or idea might work. If you come up with any suggestions, please let me know.”
“Oh, I will, I will. Wow, Noah, this is almost like I get to be part of your team. I get to help brainstorm a little bit and maybe help you come up with your plan. I don’t think I’ve ever had the chance to do that sort of thing before.”
“Wally, I suspect that if anybody can, it’s you. I’ll be looking forward to any ideas you come up with. I understand I’ll be leaving a week from today, so I don’t have a whole lot of time, but if you call, I’ll come.”
The two men shook hands, and Noah left the building, climbed into his Corvette, and headed for home. He didn’t push the car as hard this time, but the shortcut still got him home in just over half an hour.
He pulled into his yard and noticed that Neil’s Hummer was parked over at his house, rather than at the trailer. Marco’s Mustang was sitting beside it, and he spotted Sarah, Renée, Marco, and Neil all sitting at the picnic table he kept in his front yard. He parked the car and got out and wasn’t surprised when Sarah ran over to throw her arms around him.
“I missed you,” she said. “Do you realize that, except for when I’ve been going to see Doc Parker, or when you had to go out last night, we haven’t been apart for more than a few seconds since you found me in China?”
“Yes, I know,” Noah said. “I’ve avoided that as much as I could.”
Sarah looked up at him adoringly and slipped an arm up behind his head to pull him down for a kiss. He allowed their lips to linger on each other for a moment and then looked up at their guests.
“Something going on?”
“Not really,” Sarah said. “I was kinda lonely, so Neil was hanging out with me, and then Renée got off work early and the two of them came over. Marco brought a big basket of fried chicken—are you hungry?”
“Now that you mention it, I am,” Noah said as they walked toward the picnic table.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sarah let go of him and jogged into the house
, coming back a few moments later with a bottle of beer. She handed it to him and then sat down at his side, snuggling as close as she could.
“How’d it go, boss?” Neil asked. “Are they pounding your new identity into your head?”
“It isn’t that bad,” Noah replied. “Gary’s using a hypnosis technique. He put me under, then he played a recording that basically told me who I’m supposed to be and all about my new past. Rex Madison, at least the way we’ve manufactured him here, reminds me of some of the punks I knew back in high school. I didn’t have any trouble slipping into the character.”
Neil’s eyes were big and round. “Hypnotism? I’m not too sure how I feel about that. I mean, somebody hypnotizes you, they can make you do all kinds of things you might not really want to do.”
“No they can’t,” Noah said. “I actually read a lot about it a couple years ago. A person under hypnosis won’t do anything they don’t actually want to do. The reason that stage hypnotists can make people bark like dogs or hop on one foot, that kind of stuff, is because the people actually want to play along. There was a study done back in the late 1990s that found that most people who volunteer to be hypnotized on stage never really go under at all. They simply act the way the hypnotist tells them as a way to get their own few minutes of fame.”
Renée was nodding. “I read the same thing, back in college. As far as hypnosis to help you learn things, though, there is a staggering amount of evidence that it’s effective. I knew college students who used it on each other, especially when they were cramming for exams. It really seemed to work.”
“Hypnotism,” Marco said. “I don’t know a lot about it, but it seems a little spooky to me.”
“Hey, if it works, then it helps us stay alive,” Neil said. “If Noah can handle it, I guess I can.”
Noah turned his head suddenly, as a car seemed to be approaching the house. There were only a couple of other houses on his road, and it was rare for an unfamiliar vehicle to pass by, but he didn’t recognize the sound of this one. When it pulled up to his driveway and turned in, all three of the men rose to their feet.
It was a brand-new Jaguar, and its windows were tinted so dark that they couldn’t see in. Noah and Marco each moved toward the car as it stopped near the others, but then the driver’s window rolled down and Jenny smiled at them as she held both hands up to be seen. “I’m unarmed,” she called out with a smile. “I come in peace.”
The men relaxed as she climbed out of the car, and a moment later they were all seated at the picnic table. Neil ran inside and came back with one of Sarah’s wine coolers, passing it to Jenny, who had been introduced to Renée and was already munching on a chicken leg.
“Hey, this is good chicken,” she said around a mouthful. She quickly swallowed and actually blushed. “Sorry about that, forgot my manners. This really is good, though. Where did you get it?”
“Marco made it,” Renée said. “Hard to believe a macho hunk like this can cook, right?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jenny said. “I've always sort of suspected he might have a feminine side.”
“Hey,” Marco said, “we don’t need none of that. Ain’t nothing feminine about this macho hunk!”
“Okay, okay, I was just kidding.” She turned to Noah. “Noah, I wanted to come out and thank you. Allison explained things about Randy, and I just wanted to say thanks for finding a way keep him alive. There was a short time there when I was ready to kill him myself, but once he confessed everything and we knew what was going on, I kinda got over it.”
“No problem,” Noah said. “But the one you should be thanking is Neil. He was the one who figured out how to use the drugs to convince everybody Randy was dead.”
Jenny turned to Neil and gave him her nicest smile. “Really? Maybe I should have guessed. I tell you, Neil, the more I learn about you, the more I think maybe you’re just the guy I’ve been looking for.”
With the exception of Noah, the entire group chuckled when Neil turned pink. He lowered his eyes and said softly, “I just—Noah wanted me to find a way, so I—it was just the only thing I could think of.”
“I understand Randy will be coming back to your team?” Noah asked, drawing the attention away from Neil.
Jenny looked at him and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Allison says he’s going to be out for a few weeks, getting a new face and identity, but that I’ll get him back. He really has been a great help to me, and—well, something I’ve never told anyone other than the Dragon Lady and Donald is that Randy actually saved my life once. We were on a mission in Germany when something went wrong, and I was suddenly locked in a room with five really big guys who thought beating me to death would be great sport. When I didn’t come out of the building when I was supposed to, Randy came in looking for me. He heard the commotion and kicked in the door, shot two of the guys himself, and that gave me a chance to grab a gun. I took out a couple more, and then Randy got the last one just as he was about to shove a knife in my back.” She shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked him for that, now that I talk about it out loud. I have to remedy that, when he gets back.”
The six of them sat and chatted through the afternoon, but by five o’clock it was starting to cool off considerably. Sarah suggested they go inside so she could make dinner, but Marco and Renée begged off. There was a movie playing at the local theater they wanted to see, so they drove away a few minutes later.
Jenny agreed to stay, and so did Neil. They went inside and Jenny helped Sarah put together a medium-sized stack of sandwiches and potato chips; then they all went into the living room to watch a movie. Neil wanted to find something in the action genre, but Noah handed the remote to Sarah and told her to choose. The four of them settled on the couch that faced the big TV over the fireplace, with the men on the outside and the girls tucked into the middle.
Sarah chose a romantic comedy about a plastic surgeon who convinces his receptionist to pretend to be his ex-wife, part of a plan to persuade a beautiful younger woman to marry him. The four of them relaxed as they laughed at the antics on the screen, and somewhere along the line Neil realized that his arm, which had been on the back of the couch, had somehow ended up around Jenny’s shoulders.
Sarah had been watching them out of the corner of her eye and caught Neil glancing down at the pretty girl beside him several times. Jenny seemed to be focused on the movie, but Sarah could tell from the way she was snuggled in under Neil’s shoulder that she was enjoying the position. When Jenny glanced her way for just a second, the two of them shared a very small smile.
When the movie ended, Jenny said she needed to get home and get some sleep because she was going to have a big day. As far as locals knew, she was Randy’s cousin, so she was making arrangements for his “memorial service.” Publicly, it had been announced that his body had been cremated, but it had turned out that he had a number of friends in Kirtland. Noah, Sarah, and Neil all promised to attend the service the following evening, and Jenny rose to leave.
Neil decided he needed to go home at the same time. “I better get some sleep,” he said. “I’ve got to get with Molly in the morning to start learning about this new game.” He said good night quickly and followed Jenny out the door.
Alone together at last, Noah filled Sarah in on his hypnosis session, describing as much as he could remember of the induction method and then surprising her with his retention of the many details of Rex Madison’s life that he had been fed. “Gary’s planning to use the same technique on everybody,” he told her. “I think it’s going to be very helpful for all of us.”
Sarah looked at him from under lowered eyelids. “But you’re not confused about who you really are? I mean, you know your name is really Noah, right?”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “It’s not like I really remember all this stuff, it’s just—any question that’s directed to me about the life of Rex Madison is going to trigger a response from the information that’s being embedded for that purpos
e. That’s the whole idea of using hypnosis, so that we don’t make an accidental slip that gives us away.”
Sarah seemed to relax a bit. “I wonder if the FBI agent went under something like that,” she said. “They said she’d been there like three years or something, right?”
Noah nodded. “Yes, but she’s just an observer. From what I understand, she basically just keeps track of new stories and rumors about the outfit, and reports back to Quantico. Considering the fact that seven other FBI agents have met with suspicious accidental deaths in that area, I think she must be quite a courageous woman.”
“It sounds like it,” Sarah said. “Just remember, she’s your sister.”
Noah looked at her in confusion for a moment, then recognized the humorous look on her face and knew that she was teasing him. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” he said. “There’s only one woman in this world for me.”
The rest of the week was busy, as Noah spent eight hours each day with Gary. Sarah resumed her sessions with Doc Parker, Neil spent each day with Molly, and Marco practiced his reversion to his Cajun roots.
In the evenings, it wasn’t uncommon for them all to get together at Noah’s place. Since he lived out in the country with no nearby neighbors except for Neil, they all felt comfortable hanging out there. Marco and Renée showed up around dinnertime each evening, and Neil was usually already there. Sarah made dinner a couple of times, Noah fired up the grill twice, and Marco surprised them once with a huge pan of what he called “bodacious gumbo.” Noah, Sarah, and Renée all agreed it was delicious, but Neil hadn’t made it that evening.
He had mumbled something earlier about having a date, but there was so much going on that no one had actually paid a lot of attention. It wasn’t until he came in late that night that they noticed Jenny’s car following him and parking next to the Hummer at the trailer.
“Somet’ing going on dere,” Marco said. “Looking like de boy done go sweet on dat girl.”
“It’ll be okay,” Sarah said. “I already warned Jenny that if she hurts him, she’s dead.”
