Dr. Chen handed me the letter. Perfect. And an idea began to form.
“There is a scholar at Georgia Tech,” I explained to Mr. Hung. “He is an agent of the Circle, and thus of Xueshu Quan. He seeks to impose the will of Xueshu Quan upon the school, its faculty and students. He tried to get Dr. Chen fired, and now he has succeeded. He needs to be stopped.”
“An assassination is a serious step,” Mr. Hung noted. “Uncomfortable questions will be asked – questions that may lead back to us or to you.”
“No, not an assassination,” I explained. “I don’t want the man dead. If we make a martyr, another would take his place, and Xueshu Quan would emerge even stronger. We need him – and the Circle – discredited.” I explained what I had in mind.
For the first time since I met him, I saw Mr. Hung crack a wide smile. “Yes,” he said, clearly enjoying the thought of what he was about to do. “We can do this. I understand you have much to do as well. You must depart, but we should meet again, soon. We have much to discuss.”
Chapter 11: The Eye of the Storm
I had Mr. Hung’s driver drop me off at The Varsity, then I drove back over the Interstate and back toward campus. A couple of cops eyed me as I drove past them. I could see more out on adjacent blocks.
I parked illegally next to the dorm, taking the chance I could be in and out before I got ticketed and towed. As I approached the dorm, a heartrending scream startled me. It was answered by a piercing cry of fear. A rising chorus of terror split the night air. Midnight. It was time for the traditional finals week "midnight scream." I surprised myself, and let loose with an inarticulate shout of rage and defiance! One down, one to go, I thought to myself. Take that you Circle bastards. I beat you once, and I'm going to beat you again. Or so I hoped. It was time for me to check in with Amit. I pulled out my burner phone and called his.
"How's it going?" he asked. We'd have to keep it vague. While it was an anonymous phone, we couldn't risk sharing details or specifics that might trigger more attention to our call.
"I got my friend safely where he belongs," I said. "He won't be coming home with me or going to work tomorrow. Also, I got that note from the doctor we discussed."
"I see," Amit replied. "Yes I could certainly use a doctor's note, too, right about now. Your boss doesn't believe me."
“Ah. I understand,” I replied. I was afraid of that. Damn. Professor Graf was a sitting duck just waiting for the Circle to swoop down on her.
“And there was some confusion," Amit added. "Seems your boss ended up in the wrong room. Go figure.”
“What a curious event,” I acknowledged in mock irony. Amit may not have been able to persuade Professor Graf to take his warning seriously, but at least he'd managed to rejigger the hotel's records so they'd be looking for her in a different room. “Maybe she'll think differently when I show her the note. Anything else you think I should bring?”
“Nah,” Amit insisted, “but you should know they're very, very angry at your friend. He should probably stay out of sight for a good long while."
“I figured as much. Oh, and thanks for letting you-know-who know I was in a bind. His friend was extremely helpful.”
“Just one? I thought more might be on the way, but I'm glad one was all it took. Tell me all about it when you get here.”
“On my way.”
Our plan to leave my phone with Amit's in our room by way of an alibi was pretty much shot when I got cited outside the massage parlor and had to show the police officers my ID. I dashed into the room and grabbed my phone. I looked bad - an obvious black eye. I felt worse. I wanted to lie down on the bed and rest, but I had miles to go before I could sleep. I confirmed I had all my stuff cleared out of the room. Amit hadn’t had a chance to finish packing, but I couldn’t help that now. I rushed back to my truck. The police were still out in force, but apparently too busy to worry about parking violations. They stopped me twice at checkpoints before I got on I-75 heading north.
I turned on the local AM talk station, WSB, to help me stay awake. There was a manhunt underway for Professor Chen, “the Georgia Tech professor accused of espionage.” The public was advised to be on the lookout for him. Homeland Security and the FBI were confident that he would soon be in custody and the nuclear secrets he stole would be recovered. Now that he was with Mr. Hung, I had a feeling the FBI and more importantly, the Circle, would be disappointed.
I pulled in at a truck stop halfway to Tennessee and filled up. Not that I needed the gas, but I had to get some coffee to keep going. I also got some ice to help the swelling around my eye. I finally arrived at the Chattanooga Choo Choo just after 2am. The old train station had been converted into a hotel and conference center. I parked in the adjacent garage, and entered the old station lobby to check in. I hadn’t arranged anything in advance with Amit, but I figured if he was rejiggering reservations for Professor Graf, he’d have taken care of mine as well. Sure enough, he was asleep in my room.
“You look like hell,” he yawned sleepily.
“Glad to see you, too.”
“So, what happened to you?”
“Some of Professor Chen's ‘family’ play rough. You remember when I was telling you about Chinese tongs? We eventually reached an understanding. How'd it go with Professor Graf?”
Amit couldn't stop staring at my face. Finally he said, “I was persistent. She didn't believe me. Eventually I got a door slammed in my face. Wasn't the first time, probably won't be the last. I figure she'll be more receptive if she's had more sleep. We'll all need some to get through the day we have ahead of us. Breakfast isn't until 6 am. Let's get up at 4 am and go wake her up, then, too.”
I got nearly two hours of sleep. Glorious.
Amit woke me up at 4 am. It was too soon. “I got up early to check if there was any news.” He handed me a cup of coffee. “You want the good news or the bad news.”
"How about some good news for a change?"
"The only good news is at least we know what the bad news is. Agent Wilson is in Atlanta coordinating the search for Professor Chen, but there are agents already here in the hotel. They plan to interrogate your professor this morning. They’re supposed to see if she knows anything about Professor Chen's disappearance and what happened to his research data. They plan to poison her at the conference reception tonight. They say they have some kind of super toxin to spike her drink. Sounds like nasty stuff. Then, they’re supposed to follow her around for a couple of days until she dies.”
“Great. Any details on the poison?”
“It's radioactive. They have a couple of doses in gel caps that will dissolve when placed in a drink. They say it isn't dangerous, though, until the gel caps dissolve. They say they got it from some Russian friends.”
“Sounds like an alpha or beta emitter. Must have a very short half-life to be radioactive enough that such a small dose can be toxic.” I'd have to study to figure out what it was. “Let's call Professor Graf to let her know we're coming.”
Amit gave me her room number – next door to ours. I could hear the phone ringing through the wall. “Hello?” came a sleepy voice on the other end.
“Good morning.” It was probably internal to the hotel and not likely to be recorded, but I didn't want to say anything over the phone. “I'll be at your door in a minute. It’s really important. I need to speak with you.” I hung up. “Give us a few minutes,” I told Amit, “then join us.”
I knocked. I assumed she saw who it was. She opened the door with the chain still attached. “It's four in the morning. What do you think you're doing waking me up like this?” She took a look at my face. “What happened to you?”
“Long story,” I said. “Let me in and I'll explain it. Also, I have a letter you need to read. It’s from Professor Chen.”
She looked suspicious, but let me in. I asked her for her cell phone and laptop, and I put them in the microwave to deaden the sound and prevent any possible transmissions. Then, I handed her the letter and turned on
the news. “It will be on soon,” I explained. Also, I figured the noise would help cover our conversation if anyone was listening. Professor Graf read Professor Chen's letter:
My dear friend and colleague,
I very much regret the trouble you are now in. I would have spared you, if I could. We have discovered secrets they wish to remain hidden. One way or another, your old life and career are now over. If you do nothing, they will soon have you. I do not believe they will let you survive, knowing what you now know.
For my part, I am glad in a way that my old life is over. My family will hide me and allow me to spend much of my time uncovering and understanding the hidden truth. Without the distractions of grant writing, committees, and campus politics, I believe I will make better progress, particularly with the new leads our young friend gave me.
The young man who gives you this letter knows much about who they are and what they want. He is on my side and yours. He believes he may be able to save you as he has saved me. I suggest you trust him, listen to him with an open mind, and follow his guidance. If you do, there is a chance you may survive these troubled times. If you do not listen to him, they will kill you and any they can find who have helped you. He is taking a great risk to help you. Please take advantage of the opportunity he has to offer you.
The unknown will not discover itself. I must close now so our young friend may deliver this to you. I hope our paths will cross again sometime. I look forward to collaborating once again, some day.
Yours in Science,
A Friend
There was a knock on the door between the adjoining rooms. Professor Graf looked up in alarm. "That will be Amit. I'll get it." Amit had good timing. "I believe you've met my friend?"
"We meet again!" Amit said brightly.
Professor Graf looked at Amit, a decisively neutral look in her face, then back at me. “Who are these mysterious ‘they’ that are after me and Chen, and what’s this secret they wish to remain hidden?”
I explained. It took a while. Part way through the news cycle, the story came up about the manhunt for the missing Georgia Tech professor suspected of espionage.
“It's true,” she said softly. “They are after him.”
“A couple of ‘FBI agents’ who are actually working for the Circle are waiting to talk with you,” I explained. “They'll want to know where Professor Chen is and what happened to his data.”
“Well that's easy. I don't know where he is, and if he has data that's not on the server in the lab, I don't know where it is.”
“They are probably going to take your computer and phone.”
She looked dismayed, but nodded.
“They plan to kill you at the reception tonight, by dropping some deadly radioactive poison in your drink,” Amit added, far more cheerfully than was warranted. “It’s supposed to kill you within a few days. They’ll be following you around to make sure.”
“How did they know I was going to the reception?”
“You’re supposed to be meeting a Professor Glyer about a research position in Huntsville?” Amit asked.
“That weasel!” She looked pissed. “He’s in on it?”
“I can’t be sure,” Amit acknowledged. “They may have just been monitoring your emails and phone calls.”
That didn’t make her any happier. “So, I don’t drink or eat anything at the reception,” she began, thinking it through, “but then they’d just come up with an alternate plan once poisoning failed.”
“We have to let them think they’ve succeeded,” I explained, “make them think you’ve been poisoned.”
“They’ll be watching you pretty carefully,” Amit said, thoughtfully. “You order a beer,” he suggested to Professor Graf. “A bottle will be safer to handle than an open cup or glass. We swap out your beer and dispose of the poisoned bottle. You wander around socializing, obviously drinking from the ‘poisoned’ beer. Once they’re convinced, we smuggle you out of the hotel.”
“How do we get a bottle of beer? We’re underage,” I pointed out.
“They never check IDs at these receptions, if you have a conference badge,” Professor Graf assured me. “There are two problems with that scheme, though. Amit has no business being in the reception or talking with me. You're my student, Peter. You’re signed up, already. That gets you a badge to get into the reception. And there's nothing strange or unusual about my hanging out with a student of mine at a conference.”
Damn, she was right, and Amit was going to get the girl. Again. I’d swap the bottle, but he’d get to take her to safety.
“The second and more serious problem is the vultures will be following me around, waiting for me to drop dead,” she added dryly. “If I vanish, or worse, just go about my life and refuse to cooperate by dropping dead, they’ll be after me. They’ll try again and keep trying until they succeed.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” I looked her in the eye. “Good thing you’re such an outdoorsy type.”
She lifted an eyebrow curiously, her attention focused on me. I liked it.
“See, if you vanish, they’ll just keep looking for you. You’ll be a wanted terrorist or evil foreign espionage agent, you’ll make the FBI’s top-ten most wanted list, and they’ll never give up looking for you. You have to convince them you’re dead.”
“So we fake a suicide by driving my car into the Tennessee River,” she suggested.
“Too obvious,” I countered. “Too tough to arrange it so once they recover the car and you’re not in it, the evidence is convincing that your body somehow washed away. What if you decide to go hiking in the mountains, and just never show up again? Happens all the time. You get ‘lost,’ you wander about, you ‘die’ of exposure, search parties find shreds of evidence that link to you months later. It’ll be particularly convincing because they’ll figure you got sick and became too feeble to make it out on your own.”
“I don’t have any gear,” she said.
I dictated a shopping list for her: water bottle, first aid kit, sun protection, flashlight, all the scout essentials. “We’ll need your dirty laundry. That conference T-shirt would be perfect.” I pointed to the shirt she was wearing. “Put it in a plastic bag so we avoid any cross contamination. Also, I need you to get a new pair of boots, too. You’ll have to tell Amit what kind. He’ll buy an identical pair and attach the treads to my boots – instant Graf prints. I’ll have to shorten my stride to make it convincing to trackers. You stop at a gas station a few miles from the trailhead – fill up the tank, then park next to Amit’s car in some shadowy corner behind the gas station. You get a snack, and chat up the clerk, so he’ll remember you. Everything’s on their security video, except where you’ve parked. I wear a wig so a casual observer thinks I’m you, and I drive up to the trailhead. Meanwhile Amit will drive you to safety. I’ll leave a false trail – wander around a bit dropping off your clothes and gear here and there. Then, I’ll make for a different trailhead, so Amit can pick me up the next morning.”
“I can drop hints and comments with colleagues about this hike.” Now she was getting into it. “Where will I be going?”
“Cades Cove. Up in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. My family used to have a homestead there, before the government expropriated it back in the 1930’s.” I gave her the details on the location of the trailhead I had in mind. Amit and I hashed out the supplies we’d need and further details.
We had the beginnings of a plan, but for it to be successful, I needed a place for Professor Graf to hide. Amit could stash her in his family’s hotel for a while, but her face would be all over the news when she went “missing” and they started looking for her in earnest. It was too risky, and not even close to a long-term solution. With Rob’s refusal to cooperate, that limited my options. I had only one friend who could help, but I was going to have to see him in person to arrange it.
“I’m going to head up to Knoxville this morning,” I told Amit. “I have to call in a favor to arrange a refuge
for Professor Graf to stay.”
“Herr Doktor Krueger?” Amit asked.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“My mother will be worried sick about me, when I go missing,” Professor Graf was beginning to think through the implications of her pending disappearance, “All my stuff in my apartment, and my cat! Sarah is checking on Tigger over the weekend…”
“I’m sure Sarah will take care of your cat,” I assured her. “If you can trust your mom to keep your survival a secret, we can probably arrange to tell her, maybe even get some of your things from your place for you.” I had a feeling that Sarah, one of the FOGs newest members, was going to come in handy on this one. “First things first, though. We need to get you out of here alive, and convince the Circle their plan worked.”
We finalized the details of the plan – how to swap out the beer bottle, how to dispose of the poison, when Professor Graf would leave the hotel, the switch-off at the gas station. We had to be careful to make sure we covered everything. Sure, Amit and I still had our burner phones. We could call each other with last minute changes in plan. The more calls you make on a burner phone, though, the more vulnerable you are – the more of a trail you’re leaving behind. You can’t start calling people with your burner phone without giving away your connections. For instance, suppose I tried to call Dr. Krueger, and suppose Amit ran into an emergency and had to call Professor Graf for some reason. Then, Amit and I might still be anonymous, but anyone reviewing the phone records would realize there was a connection between Professor Graf and Dr. Krueger. That’s why the fewer calls you make, the more secure you are. And if you leave your phone on, you’re leaving a record of your travels. Amit would leave his burner phone on, just in case I needed to contact him. I would leave mine off, unless I needed to update him on my plans. One way or another, I should be back to Chattanooga hours before the evening’s reception.
A Rambling Wreck: Book 2 of The Hidden Truth Page 27
