Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5)

by Michael R. Stern

  “He's never been housebroken. So I give him free run here in the barn. His talents have many valuable uses.”

  “He's cruel. Did you teach him that?”

  “No. That he learned from my youngest brother.” His voice rang as if delighted at the memory, the nonchalance of cocktail party chatter that she'd heard many times before.

  “Who are you?”

  “A man of many names, and none, when it suits.”

  “What do you want?”

  He stepped within inches. “An answer.” If her legs and feet were not bound, she could kick him, possibly kill him. She tried to headbutt his face, but a lithe sidestep took him out of range. “Not nice.” His look warned her and she tensed as a fist struck her mid-section. “You'll get your breath shortly. And then you can answer me. Who sent you with Declercq?”

  “The CIA,” she croaked.

  “Ah, and now I have more questions. We'll enjoy seeing each other for a while. And I'm certain Joe will also enjoy you.”

  * * *

  THE LIGHT IN THE barn slowly disappeared, and a cooler breeze blew through. Unknown to the other, both women had succumbed to fits of sleep, though the pain inflicted on each hadn't subsided. Neither had eaten, and had only had spare drinks of water.

  Richemartel entered Brie's room, and Joe carried a full bucket of warmer water, which he emptied over her head. Without a word, the pulley screeched, lowering her to her knees. “The weatherman is telling us it's getting chilly this evening. I don't want you to catch a cold.”

  “How thoughtful,” Brie said. “How about food and water. Even prisons feed their inmates.”

  “No, Joe.” Joe lowered his hand just before the slap landed. “We want our guest to be comfortable. Ms. Sanderson, I'll do even better. Before you're fed, Joe is going to bathe you. We have a nice facility we use to keep the cows clean and sanitary.” Her arms were taped behind her back and her ankles were taped together. Joe lifted her into a wheelbarrow, and Richemartel told him to get her “nice and dry.”

  The other door opened, and Linda flinched. “Did you enjoy your nap, Ms. Russell. I hope you're ready to continue our conversation.”

  “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “That's an excellent question.”

  “If you're going to kill me, why don't you just do it?”

  “I'm not going to kill you.” His emphasis stunned her to attention. Did he mean that he wouldn't be doing the dirty work? Or would she eventually be released. “But you are going to tell me everything. Sooner perhaps than later.”

  “And what happens if I tell you?”

  “That will depend on how truthful you are. Truth is so much more rewarding, don't you agree? And Joe dislikes lying.”

  Chapter 35

  AT LUNCH, ASHLEY asked Fritz if the president had called. He said he hadn't, but he had received a text at the end of the second period.

  “Nothing, Ash. He said they were checking records, people and places.”

  “Did you ask about Salzmann? Did they get a picture?”

  Fritz shook his head. He told Ashley he hadn't had a chance to call. “He's busy. I'll call him later.”

  “I can't believe you're not in his face. I would be.”

  “Look, he's got the NSA, the FBI, the Secret Service and however many other agencies to work on this. But I have another idea.”

  “What?”

  “Our own search. The internet. Property locations. If we can find a picture of Richter's house before he blew it up, maybe it'll have some clues. Then we start searching for Salzmann. Between us, we can cover a lot of ground.”

  * * *

  ASHLEY BROUGHT his computer and they worked up a plan to find Salzmann. When they came inside, Emily had drinks already poured. Waiting at the table holding TJ, secret service agent Mary McElroy greeted them. Mary had been assigned to protect the Russells at the beginning of the year, but had left when TJ and Linda went to Ohio.

  “Hi, Fritz. The president sent me this morning. Emily filled me in on what's happening. Hi, Ashley.”

  “Fritz, tell me something to ease my mind,” Emily said.

  “I haven't spoken to him, Emily. He sent me an email this morning.”

  “Are you going to call? Or maybe you don't want her back?”

  Fritz stared at her. “That's a strange thing to say. Did you talk to Tim? That sure sounds like him.”

  “She's my daughter, Fritz. You haven't done much to get her back since June. Why would it be strange that I ask?”

  “I'm not going to argue with you, Emily. I'm doing all I can. Ash and I will do some investigating on our own.” But Emily's insinuation made him question if perhaps she was right.

  Using real estate photos to look at the property addresses for all the Salzmanns that they could find might narrow the locations. “The guy is rich, so we're looking for areas with high values.”

  “That's just a guess,” said Ashley. “It could be anywhere, but it's a good place to start.”

  Ashley plugged in his laptop. Fritz brought his from the sunroom. TJ watched as they set up. “Boy, he has grown. Hi, TJ, remember me?” TJ tucked his head in Mary's neck.

  “It'll take a while, Fritz,” Emily said. “Especially without Linda.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “No, I meant he's probably confused.”

  “So am I.” He sipped his drink, watching his son, hoping he still had some memory of his daddy. “I need to make a call.”

  “Ms. Crispin, it's Fritz Russell.”

  “I expected you sooner. He's not here. He asked me to send the materials he's collected and the picture of our suspect.”

  “Has he released the info and the picture?”

  “He's waiting to see if the NSA finds anything. He said he would call later. They have found something but he asked you to be patient.”

  “I'm not. I can't be. I've waited all day.”

  “Believe it or not, I understand. If it were my family, I wouldn't be patient either. I hope this works out. Really I do.”

  “Thanks. Tell him I called. Are you going to email the stuff?”

  “Check your computer. I sent it when school ended.”

  Fritz and Ashley began checking real estate websites. After two hours they were empty-handed.

  After dinner, Emily said she was going to call Tim. Fritz scowled, but she said he worried her. “He's alone and I'm sure he's worrying about Linda and what's going to happen.”

  “I don't have anything nice to say. My feelings haven't changed.” He sensed that she had more to say. “If you decide to go home, I'm keeping TJ here.”

  Mary said, “I can't handle him alone, Fritz.”

  “I'll figure something out. Emily, do what you need to do.”

  Tears began to well and she left the room.

  “NINE O'CLOCK already, Ash. I'm getting tired. I wish he'd call.”

  “He will. He's got other things to do. We only have one thing. Keep looking.”

  “I wish we could get live pictures or something at least that's current.”

  “Fritz, if we can narrow down the possibilities … Hang on.” Ashley tapped the keyboard a few times. “I kept a set of files for Jane, in case she needed it. I may still have it.” Ash's eyes and fingers scanned the list of programs. “I do.” Fritz looked over his shoulder. “Here it is. I need a password. She never gave them to me.”

  “Try her birthday. Alpha for the month.”

  “Nope.” He converted to numeric, and typed. “Access denied,” the message read.

  “Ash, this is a government file. Should we be fooling with it?” The question cautioned them not to be careless. Ash typed once more. “We're in.”

  “We're in trouble, you mean. You just hacked the CIA.”

  “I'll get out in a minute. Let's try an address and at least we'll find out what we get if we ever get permission.” He typed the next words. Searching with an address, the screen went gray, and then a high altitude image
showed a satellite view.

  “What do I do next?” Ash said.

  “Get out of it now. I expect we'll have a cop knocking soon.”

  “You better call the president.” Ashley closed the file, and minimized the screen. He leaned back and scratched his beard.

  “What did you type to get in?”

  Before he answered, Ashley sniffed and gulped for air, having trouble breathing. “My name.”

  Ten o'clock approached when the president called. He apologized for the lateness and for keeping Fritz waiting.

  “Mr. President, Ash found a file that lets us into the CIA. Jane put it on his computer. We got in, and we can look at the addresses, live. I think it's the program she had when we went after the stolen Russian nuke.”

  “Good. I'll inform the director who's penetrated their system. Don't worry about it.”

  “Then we can use it?”

  “Better you than us. Someone inside is helping them and I don't want anyone to question what we're looking for.” He told them that Tom Andrews had found transfers to numerous Caballeros' accounts. Without doubt, they were tied to all the events of the past months. “He found a large deposit to a bank in Eledoria, more to banks in London, Hawaii and Washington. They're playing 'Musical Money. Each time the music stopped, we had an attack.”

  “What about Linda?”

  “The FBI has been reviewing videos from street cameras and the home security footage. McConnell and Reid have been going door-to-door. They're waiting on video from all possible transportation locations. But nothing solid yet. Sorry, Fritz.”

  * * *

  WHEN THE FARMHOUSE door opened, a wind gust grabbed the screen door, slamming it against the house. A pistol pointed at him when he stepped in. His uncle lowered the gun.

  “Expecting company?” Joe hissed.

  “One of these days, you'll either do what I tell you or you'll get shot. I've told you to knock.”

  “Nobody's here.”

  “I'm here. You were in the barn. Anyone could walk in. It's easy to ask questions later.

  I want them kept warm enough, Joe. I still need to discover what they're hiding. But I'm not in a hurry. That should please you.”

  “It does. But don't be too long. I have another friend who might like to visit the barn. You'll like her.”

  “We'll be making room soon.”

  “Then, I should sharpen the chainsaw.”

  Chapter 36

  IN ADDITION TO HIS regular daily briefings the next morning, the president received a report that the Israeli shipping lanes were clear and most of the turbines had been salvaged. But he needed a new plan. Despite being surrounded, the president stared out his window at the ocean of green. What he imagined was an armada of anything that would float.

  He said, “The people of Britain rose to the challenge in 1940 and rescued over three hundred thousand men at Dunkirk.” Behind him, the movement stopped and heads turned, faces questioning what he was talking about. “I have less than three months left to make this work. In four weeks, we'll see who gets to continue the job, or maybe end the program. We need momentum and we need it now.” The vision faded, and he confronted his advisors. “Sam, get the Palestinian ambassador here. ASAP.” He rubbed behind his left ear. “Get all of them, all the regional ambassadors, including the Israeli. Dinner meeting tonight. Tell them to leave their ties and coats, and their BS, at home. We're working. And get the prime minister on the phone.”

  “Israeli?”

  “Of course. Gentlemen, ladies, it's time for us to earn our pay. Sam, get the Speaker here. Make a list of who should be here, and tell them to drop everything. I want the Speaker to see a united front and I want him outnumbered. Go.” As his chief-of–staff reached the door, the president said, “Sam, one more thing.” He rubbed his chin. “The Speaker needs to be here after school ends in Riverboro.”

  * * *

  HAVING HAD LITTLE sleep and no breakfast, his students asked if he felt okay. His lie didn't convince them. At the end of sixth period, Jay and Susan waited at the door until the room emptied.

  “Mr. R,” Susan said, “something's wrong. If we can help, please let us.”

  “Yeah, Mr. R. We're getting pretty good at fixing things. Just tell us what we need to do.”

  “Thanks, guys. I'll be fine. Just haven't slept well lately.”

  They left, but their worried looks were the last out the door.

  After the next class, Rachel and Nicole stayed behind. Rachel said, “Mr. R, you need to take a day off.”

  Nicole said, “If you tell us, we'll teach a couple of classes for you. You don't even have to pay us.” Ashley stood in the doorway and laughed. “How come you never offered to give me a day off?”

  “Hi, Mr. Gilbert.” As usual they said it together, but without their usual fanfare. Rachel added, “You never looked as bad as Mr. R does now.”

  “And besides, we never had you for anything as interesting as Mr. R's classes,” said Nicole.

  Once again, the Dough Twins had silenced Ashley. Fritz laughed, a real laugh in spite of all his current woes.

  “Thank you both. I'll hold that over his head forever. I'll be fine. Just a lot going on at the moment.” His phone beeped. He read the text message, and looked at Ash. “Girls, do you want to see the president again? Be here right after school. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.” Ashley stared at him, his look asking if he'd lost his mind.

  “That'll be cool. Should we rehearse something,” Nicole asked.

  “I'll let you decide. Surprise him.”

  The last class of the day trickled in. He gave them a reading assignment, and walked down the hall, stuck his head in the door, and waved Ashley to the hall.

  “The president wants me at a meeting with the Speaker. Do you want to come?”

  “Have you gone mad?” Bringing people with you. He'll be furious.”

  “Ash, this is my portal, not his. They haven't found Linda. At this point, I don't care if he's angry. What's he going to do, shoot me? This thing has wrecked our lives. So are you coming?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'll tell him I'm bringing company.”

  * * *

  JUST BEFORE THE BELL ended the day, Tony Almeida's face smiled through the window. Fritz waved him in. His class had never met Tony, but one student said, “Are you the guy who invented the projections? You're my hero. Would you show me so I can make a video? I want to be a filmmaker.”

  “Mr. Almeida is just visiting, class.” The groans spoke in loud disappointment. This class shouldn't be aware of his trips. “What have you been told about the projections,” he asked.

  “Riverboro's a small town, Mr. Russell. My mom is friends with Ms. Leslie and Ms. Bennett. We just wish we could go too.”

  “The Dough Twins said they met Benjamin Franklin. I keep giving them donations so they'll tell me more.”

  “So that's how they get you. Storytelling. I'll be having a little chat with them.”

  The last click on the classroom clock ended the day and before the class departed, Rachel and Nicole poked their heads around the corner. While they waited outside the door, each had a box held out for donations. The kids stopped, one at a time, to deposit something.

  “Hi, Mr. R. We're ready,” Nicole said, putting her latest collections in her bookbag.

  “Where are we going?” asked Rachel.

  “We're going to the Oval Office. The Speaker of the House will be there, too. I wasn't told if anyone else will be.”

  “Mr. R, we rehearsed a pitch on the way here.”

  When Rachel told him their plan, Fritz said, “Ladies, you may have a real audience. I'll try to give you a set up. Then it will be your turn.”

  While Ashley and Tony set up the generator, Fritz called the president.

  “Who are you bringing?”

  “The Dough Twins and Ash. Who's with you?” The president went through a list of people who were watching him. “This should be right in your wheelhouse
. They have a pitch for you.”

  “Can't wait.”

  * * *

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, we have some serious decisions to make. Mr. Speaker, I've been told you're leaving for the weekend, even if it is Wednesday, so your quick approval is all I'll need.”

  “Approval for what?”

  “Let's say, world peace. Any objections?” Low-level laughs crisscrossed the room.

  Their heads turned to the rear when the door opened, and two girls walked in, identical in their shoes and haircuts, dressed in matching slacks and blouses. Fritz and Ashley stepped in, but waited long enough for the initial surprise to take hold.

  “Hi, Mr. President,” the girls said in harmony. Rachel was on Nicole's left, hiding the cadence of her index finger just before their greeting. The president ushered them in.

  “Most of you have met Mr. Russell and Mr. Gilbert. These young ladies are Rachel Downey and Nicole Ginsburg.”

  “You know our names?” asked Nicole, glancing at Rachel.

  “Of course. I always know my friends' names, Nicole.” He introduced each of them to the assemblage and asked if he could get them a drink. Fritz shook his head when they looked back at him.

  “Don't be a kill-joy, Fritz. Ladies, what would you like?”

  The Speaker interrupted. “Excuse me but … my plane.”

  In no hurry, the president asked Ms. Crispin to have sodas brought in. He turned to the Speaker. “These young ladies aren't quite old enough to vote yet. But they're old enough to see their government work for them. Are you familiar with Dunkirk?” he asked the Speaker.

  “Of course.”

  “The harbor in Ashdod just reopened, the port construction has started in Palestine, but everything is behind schedule. We need an American fleet to act like Dunkirk and rescue the Middle East. I want ships loaded and sailing by tomorrow. We've started the ball rolling with every major port and shipper on the east coast. I've talked to the Longshoremen's Union, and the union is behind us, waiting for the go-ahead. I've got the building trade unions ready to send their people and I have two cruise lines with ships ready to leave from New York and Miami.”