by Randy Dutton
She grinned. Sitting in a chair, the guard was bobbing his head to a hip-hop beat, and his attention was focused outside the gate.
Gripping the metal arm holding three strands of bearded barbed wire, she finished the ascent. In two seconds she had straddled the three wires, careful not to let the fabric touch the rusted points, and dropped down the other side.
Landing silently in a squat between two cars, she sat on a layer of moss accumulated against the wall and pulled a water bottle out of her bag. Her senses were on alert for movement, or any sound that might force her into a hasty exit. Her second option was to go on offense to eliminate the threat. Neither came.
With the bottle half emptied, she laced up a pair of oversized men’s basketball shoes she had acquired at a garage sale. Just in case.
Careful not to touch any vehicle that might set off a movement alarm, she gingerly crawled down the line and below the bumpers. The Fuzz both helped and hindered her movement. Mixed with trash accumulated along the wall, it deadened sound but also covered broken glass that could cut through gloves and fabric.
Starr’s key fob had three sets of vehicle keys. The late model Beemer probably belongs to her boyfriend. The classic Mustang, yeah, that’s her type. The older Chevy van...that’s where she’d work. Good bet they’re parked together.
Twelve bumpers later she was under a classic Mustang, having just slipped past a late model BMW. She pulled off the glove and touched the muffler.
Still warm.
From ground level, the older white Chevy van loomed ahead and, like the Mustang, was facing outward. A muffled sound was coming from inside.
Anna rolled underneath the decade-old utility van. From her bag, she attached an optical contact microphone underneath the van’s floor. Its digital signal processor would clean up the conversation from background computer noise. Inserting the earphone, Anna laid down and put the bag under her head to relax and listen to Starr’s side of a telephone conversation.
“...of course I tested it before I went there, you think I’m an amateur?!” Starr’s sarcastic irritation was evident.
“Hell yes, it had a fresh battery!”
“I don’t know. I had to really motivate the brother to get me there last night.” Starr chuckled.
“Doesn’t matter if I had fun...you still owe me.”
“Because the wife was suspicious. I don’t think she’ll invite me back—”
“Kate Heyward.”
“Nah. She didn’t say much but did deflect some of my questions...kinda protective. She probably thought I was hitting on her husband, though I don’t know why—”
“Because he kept looking back at her. Besides they’re leaving on their honeymoon in a few days.”
“She’s just an undereducated trophy wife...with issues—”
“Well, rather boring for one.... And she gets migraines...bad ones from what I understand.”
“Great bod...very athletic...auburn hair...not very fashionable.”
“Yeah, I’ve copied a wedding picture from their hallway. I’m uploading it now.... Damn!”
“The photo”—there was a long pause—“Yoav, I’m gonna have to get another to you.”
Yoav... Anna’s mind visualized the slightly-built former Mossad intelligence agent and started reminiscing about past contact with him until she heard the rest of Starr’s comment.
“Meanwhile, I also have her fingerprints, which I need to lift off a drinking glass I copped from her place....”
Anna’s eyes flared at the words, and her hand lightly patted the noise-suppressed Walther lying on her stomach.
“You sure you don’t want me to continue?” Starr’s voice expressed regret.
“Yeah, I think this investigation’s a dead-end too. Look Yoav, I’m beat. I haven’t slept much the past 48. I’ll send you my final billing later today—”
“Uh huh, with the prints.”
“Hey, what I do on my own time is my concern!” Starr’s voice was lighthearted. “Yeah, I like the brother...and his family’s loaded. Sure beats the brute I’m with.”
“Call me when you’ve more work.”
“Shalom.”
Anna heard a chair roll across the van floor and then Starr moving around the van, turning off computers and closing cabinets. The noise allowed Anna to track Starr’s movement toward the van’s cab. Next, an inside metal door closed with the clanking of a padlock.
Anna removed the listening microphone and slipped it into one of the bag’s pockets. Flexing her completely black-covered body she shimmied into position to allow a quick roll-out from under the passenger side. In her hand was a key-fob sized device she had purchased over the Internet for five dollars. Keeping still as a fox waiting for its prey, her left thumb lightly caressed the activation button while her right hand pointed the pistol toward the driver’s side – just in case.
The driver’s door creaked opened and 3-inch heels clicked onto the concrete. When the door closed, Anna cocked her head and watched for any changes in the ambient light.
A soft flash reflecting off the BMW’s side window caught Anna’s peripheral vision. She now knew the van’s alarm had been set. The lack of a horn beep Anna attributed to Starr’s need to keep surveillance discrete.
Anna stayed focused on Starr walking toward the guard and putting the van keys back into her satchel.
After the van’s dome light had faded, Anna rolled from under the passenger side, stowed her weapon and switched to nitrile gloves. Now her left gloved hand held the black bag. Raising her head just above the Fuzz-sprinkled windshield, she waited until the guard’s back turned to watch the sexy silhouette entered the building.
Anna’s right hand deftly wrapped around the door handle and her left thumb depressed the fob’s button. Within seconds, the small device flooded the door lock with an electro-magnetic pulse. This overwhelming energy now deactivated the vehicle alarm and unlocked the door. Hearing the click, Anna’s moment came. In a swift move, she opened the door and pressed the black bag tightly against the cab’s dome light, then quietly closed the door. As soon as the automatic light faded off, she lowered the bag.
With a lock pick, she manipulated the lock’s tumblers and opened the partition leading to the back and closed it behind her.
Despite the coverall’s minimal fabric, Anna was overheating. Keeping the hood on to contain any stray wig hairs, she partly unzipped her coverall top and tugged the fabric several times to cool off. Then, turning on the compartment’s overhead light, she went to work.
Now, let’s see what you’ve got, girl. Hmmmm, basic stuff. Computers, radios, clothes and...a fat suit. I wonder if Pete would mind me walking around in one of these cooling vests?
She lifted the bowl on top of the crystal centerpiece.
Clever. Very nice camera and with directional microphones. Must be how you snooped on the meeting.
Anna took a picture of it from the top down, then reset the top.
Sitting at the computer desk she opened a box of dated thumb drives.
Must be your recent surveillance. Should be interesting.
She placed a tablet from her bag onto the table and started copying each thumb drive. During the wait, Anna continued searching the van for secrets, taking photos and making wax imprints of every key, scrutinizing weapons, and reading Post-It notes.
After copying the drives, she grinned and
I’ve got a little Easter egg for you next time you use this thumb drive.
She added a malware file to the most recently used USB thumb drive. When my keylogger program activates, it’ll send all your passwords and nasty little secrets into a cloud file I can access at whim. That’ll give me leverage just in case you get too close. Blackmail’s my Plan B – letting your victims know what you’ve done to them.
Now, about the glass you stole.
The bagged glassware was next to a forensic kit, with a metalized label stating, ‘Dallas Police Department Property’. Its serial number had be
en scratched out.
Aren’t you the little thief.
Anna opened the plastic forensic toolbox that included a container of magnetic-sensitive powder and a Magna Brush that doesn’t use ‘latent prints’ destroying fiber contact.
Girl, you know your stuff.
With the kit’s blue-light LED she inspected the glass in her gloved palm. It revealed prints with distinct friction ridges, whorls, and several minute mission-related scars.
Yep, a couple good prints. How did I not see you steal this?
She overlaid each print on the glass with the appropriate gloved finger, then twisted to smear the prints.
And you’re not getting my DNA either. Anna removed a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bag and lightly sprayed the inside and outer surfaces. Afterward, everything was arranged as before.
Now for Plan C. Find your stash. I know you must have one.
Moving into the driver’s seat, Anna reached under the dash and opened a plastic box cover. From her black bag came a key programming device she plugged into the vehicle’s onboard diagnostic computer port. In seconds, she had programmed a blank key to allow future vehicle access and drivability.
I’ll just program the wireless tire pressure sensor to indicate a low-air reading and disable the dashboard warning light. Since you have OnStar Remote Diagnostics, the warning signal and your GPS location will be continuously transmitted. That’ll let me know where this van has been. If I ever need something, I’ll have immediate access.
Consider yourself charmed, Starr. A few months ago, I would have made you disappear.
Finally, Anna locked the partition and driver’s door, then waited until the guard faced outward. After everything felt right, she slipped out the passenger side and locked it wirelessly with her tablet.
Slipping away was easy. Anna went two vehicles in the opposite direction. Shielded from the guard’s view by Starr’s van, she stepped onto an old rusty vehicle to look over the wall, climbed up, then dropped down the other side.
And that’s how it’s done, girl. Undereducated boor, indeed!
In ten minutes, she was back in Irma’s splotchy van, thankful it hadn’t been vandalized.
I’ve really got to get a throwaway vehicle.
In the predawn moonlight Anna had finished power-washing Irma’s van back to its pristine surface. Barefoot, and in a sports bra and Lycra shorts, Anna was soaked from head to toe. The cool spray felt good against her bare skin after having been so active the hours before. The high-pressure water also served as a shower to scrub off the makeup.
While cleaning the wheels, her mind recounted what she had done and what still needed doing.
I don’t feel remorse for killing the gang enforcer. Maybe I haven’t changed that much.
She glanced at the overhead moon and let out a full breath.
Or maybe I have, otherwise Starr wouldn’t have survived the night. There’s a little of her in me, but that girl could destroy my new family. There’s no earthly reason to trust her, and yet, I feel I must for Patrick’s sake.
After Pete leaves the property I’ll sanitize everything. It’s unlikely he’ll find the black bag and miscellaneous props stashed in the garage attic. Then I’ll burn those vehicle decals and fake license plates...the coveralls too. Even with the nanotech coating, there’s probably gun powder residue, and some blood splatter and sweat.
I’ll have to switch ammo brands too, just in case they find the bullet. She chuckled. I’ve gone through...14 different brands with that weapon. Then there’s the computer....
“It’s five in—” Pete loudly announced while stepping from the porch stairs. He was dressed in sweat pants and a white tee.
Her abrupt turn swept water across his face. She released the handle. “Sorry, Honey. You startled me.”
His hand wiped his face. “What are you doing?” His voice expressed concern and slight annoyance at being sprayed. He grabbed two towels and walked past the distracted black lab chewing on a large bone.
“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go running in a new area.”
Drying his face, he extended a second towel. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to wake you.... Maybe I should have.... Sorry.” She looked up with an apologetic smile and draped the towel around her glistening shoulders preferring not to dry off.
His hands gently clasped her shoulders, then swept down her damp arms and lifted her hands. “Your right hand’s scraped.” His left hand reached out and lightly brushed and turned her face. “And what happened to your cheek? It’s scratched.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “I tripped on a rock and hit a low branch.”
“Why did you take mom’s car? Could’ve used mine...ours.” His eyes drifted down to her clinging clothes, drops were falling from fabric into a puddle.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pulled him tightly against her wet body. From reflected porch light, her bright eyes flashed up through fluttering eyelashes and her voice flowed like honey. “I guess I just wanted to see what driving a mommy car was like....”
His eyes narrowed at the profuse flirting. “I suspect more.”
“I’m done here...but I offer more,” she said seductively. “Want to warm up your wife?”
Chapter 26
August 20, 1300
Alaskan State Legislature
The gallery was filled to capacity. The mid-30s TV reporter used it as a backdrop and held the microphone close to minimize the thunderous background noise.
With his left hand, the cameraman gave the brunette her ‘three-two-one’.
“This is Jill Brent for Global Heartbeat Network, reporting live from the Alaskan State Legislative Building. It’s a historic day for Alaska. The voting is complete! Alaska House Bill 85, establishing a contingency national government plan, has passed.”
She motioned to a silver-haired man in his mid-60s walking past.
“Excuse me Senator Forwith; please tell our viewers what Bill 85 means to Alaskans.”
The stooped politician looked into the camera. “Certainly, Jill. Today, Alaska created a governmental continuity plan that organizes and funds Alaska’s government as a sovereign entity so it can take charge, if that becomes necessary.”
“When will the governor sign it?”
He grinned widely. “She already has, two minutes after the last vote.”
“And what would be the contingency in which full control is implemented?”
“Alaskans want self-determination. If the US courts don’t strike down the Sell Alaska Act, Bill 85 puts structure in place for us to establish an independent government.”
“Would you give us some details? What does the bill provides?”
“It provides legislative authority for Alaska to print its own currency, to incur public debt, and create its own postal system – backed by the plentiful resources of Alaska. It also codifies a judiciary independent of the US.”
“What about defense?”
“We’ve set up a means of absorbing the infrastructure and any left-behind equipment of US military installations, and integrating the Alaskan National Guard into it. It also incorporates rules allowing US military personnel to join us in Alaska.”
“Will you implement a draft?”
“It authorizes one if we can’t get the volunteer resources we need. But we seem to be getting volunteers from everywhere, including Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.”
“In what other areas have you set up control?”
“Well, the Alaskan power grid and all utilities, and a central bank.... Jill, we need to set up a new country. This time we’re going to learn from the mistakes of others.”
“What mistakes would those be?” Jill asked.
“Well, for one thing, laws and regulations with budgetary impact will have sunset provisions.”
“So they expire after a certain time?”
“Exactly. America has millions of laws on the books that often conflict
, confuse, and cost the public dearly. Budgetary laws and regulations will have automatic end-dates that, to continue, must be reauthorized. In the US, democracy is run by dead people because the old laws still hold sway over spending and the processes of governing. And before you ask, I’m not referring to the Constitutional limitations of government as a burden. I’m referring to generations of politicians making laws that don’t sunset...laws that become outdated. It’s like a computer.”
“How’s that?”
“A new computer runs fast, but start adding software, and registry changes make the computer buggy and slower. Alaskans have the chance for a new start – to ensure laws and regulations don’t cause paralysis. We will attempt to limit unintended consequences, adapt to changing priorities, and create a common-sense legal framework.”
“There it is, folks. The Alaskan Senate president says they are prepared to take control of Alaska if necessary. This is Jill Brent, on the beat.”
Chapter 27
August 21, 0300
U-Rent Storage, North Dallas
A shadow glided across a flat Fuzz-covered roof. The black hooded figure’s fluid movements would have been difficult to follow from any of the nearby three-story apartment buildings even during daytime. At three in the morning, even with a full moon, it was near impossible.
The ghostly intruder put a bag down and then lifted a loose layer of Fuzz that had accumulated near the roof’s gutter. Tiny particles broke off and joined the thousands of drifting filaments illuminated by the flood lights.
Fuzz is blowing everywhere, so why not here?
Clamping her legs around a flood light’s arched support, Anna leaned over the roof’s edge and placed the small, uncompressed mat against the surveillance camera lens and slipped a clear shopping bag over it to maintain its placement.
Having negated security for a line of outdoor storage units, Anna walked along the long roof while watching the longitude and latitude numbers change on a handheld monitor. She grimaced at a very slight slapping sound now being made by one of her old oversized men’s shoes.
