The War Gate

by Chris Stevenson

  Auggie took a few steps, handed him a photo printout that he pulled from his vest pocket. “I think this says it all, boss. It’s a little grainy, but one of our hallway cameras picked it up. You can draw your own conclusions, but with those wool caps removed, I think we can agree about the identity of those intruders. The blond hair is a dead giveaway.”

  Drake studied the photo, his fingers pinching it so hard it left smudges on its surface. He tossed it on his desk. “Okay, we know my daughter and that gutter trash magic man of hers was behind this. I just can’t figure out what they’re after.” Although he had a good idea why she was infiltrating his company. He believed it had everything to do with revenge for having thrown her out of his household. There had never been any love lost between them.

  Drake sighed. He didn’t mean any offense to the girl, but the only way he could wipe her mother from his mind was to boot her. He had gotten so tired looking at her face day after day. It had brought back so many memories—haunted him, accused him. She’d been a pox on him ever since he’d signed the adoption papers. Well, no more. She’d stepped in it this time. She’d rue the day she ever put a knife in Drake Labrador’s back.

  “I’m not going to put up with this harassment,” Drake said. He opened his desk drawers to forage through their contents. He slapped papers aside, wondering if he had left anything incriminating, something damaging to his company or his reputation. It was a crapshoot. Almost anything could be used against him if one knew what to look for. At the very least, a tax audit would sabotage him.

  There were other skeletons in his closet that could never be allowed to surface into the bright light of judicial scrutiny. Right now, his mind spun with those horrific thoughts—thoughts that brought back very dark, ominous memories.

  He found a ragged tear across his legal pad. He could not remember if he had ripped a sheet off or if other hands had removed it. He checked his waste pale. It was empty. He couldn’t remember. What had he written on the legal pad?

  “If you don’t mind my asking, Mr. Labrador,” said Auggie, “is there anything in particular that they might be after? Why would your own daughter be doing these things?”

  “I do mind you asking,” said Drake, aware that he’d always told Auggie that he had adopted Avy. “It’s just been bad blood in the family. However, things have changed—she’s a thief now, demonstrated by her actions. You know how touchy I am about company business or security issues. I’ve gone to extraordinary lengths to sew this place up tight against entry. Now I’m faced with the realization that a couple of kids invaded our network, escaping with God knows what kind of sensitive tech data. I think they’re after copyrights or patents, groundbreaking stuff. We’re a leader in software. Who better to steal from? Maybe they’re moles for IBM.”

  Drake was grasping, pitching shit pies against the wall, but it had the decided effect on his security chief, who now had panic etched on his face.

  Drake put his arm around Auggie’s shoulder and stepped him out into the hallway. They walked like Siamese twins joined at the hip, with a slow, deliberate stride. Drake pulled on his chin, gearing up for one of his deliveries.

  “It occurs to me now that if we don’t put a stop to this, our reputation as a secure facility will end up squat. This bug screams to be stepped on. We’re not in the position to let some juveniles run herd over this company unchecked, stealing security sensitive documents, committing assault and battery on our staff. This is a personal affront to me. I think we can deal with it without any probes or assistance from any external agencies. I’m just putting a couple of clear coats on this topic, if you understand my meaning.”

  “Yes, sir. No cops. I can smell the varnish from here.”

  “That’s good. Fear is a good motivator, a great deterrent. I don’t believe in violence, but I’m not against a show of force. Sending just the right message can rid us of this bogeyman. You’ve got to make them think it isn’t worth the effort. If they persist, well, things can get real messy—fast. You’ve just got to hit some people over the head with the proverbial stop sign.”

  “Everybody has to obey the traffic signs, boss.”

  “Fine. We know this astounding what’s-his-name has a magic act on Hillsborough Street. We know that his bitch might be very close at hand. I’m concerned with where this boy lays his head at night. His home base. A personal visit to his premises, accompanied by a clear message, should dissuade him from further violence. I’m not talking about any arm breaking or flying teeth—I wouldn’t lower myself to such tactics because it would make me no better than my oppressor. It would be even better if he were not home or near the premises.”

  “Like a surprise visit,” Auggie said, obviously following the thread.

  “That’s it. I’d leave a calling card, but nothing that could be traced back to Cyberflow. Random acts that never get solved happen all the time in Raleigh. No witnesses. That kind of stuff. Real swift—shock and awe. Use your imagination.”

  “That can be arranged without a problem.”

  “I thought so. The operative word here is ‘creative’, something that will leave a lasting impression. That way we won’t have to deal with this again, which means we can go on with business as usual.”

  “Gotcha. How soon should this party get under way?”

  “Yesterday. While it’s fresh in their minds. Assemble some of your best men. Use non-descript vehicles.” Drake paused in the hallway, placing his hand on Auggie’s shoulder. “How is that other matter taking shape?”

  “We’re lining that up right now. We don’t have all the pieces together yet, but the overall picture is taking shape. The skies are looking friendlier by the hour.”

  “Glad to hear it. If you find any property that belongs to Cyberflow at the other site be sure to bring it back with you and return it to its rightful owner. Do whatever it takes to find it.”

  Drake watched Auggie walk down the hallway with his shoulders thrown back, hitching up his pants. The security chief of Cyberflow was on a mission. Drake could see the determination in the man’s stride. It was the fastest he’d ever seen Auggie walk.

  Chapter 12

  They’d been poring over the documents on Avy’s motel bed for the past 15 minutes, coming up with very little information about Drake Labrador’s doings other than indecipherable “notes to self,” company documents, old work ledgers, and other fodder. They hadn’t had sufficient time to snatch the best paperwork before they’d been forced to leave.

  The journal proved disheartening since it contained chicken scratch messages with weird codes that only the author could have understood. Acronyms were everywhere, sometimes connected to words, at other times strung together in hodgepodge fashion. It was obvious that anything Drake had written was never meant to be interpreted at face value. Some of his personal notes contained strange little emoticons that conveyed his temperament during the note taking. The one thing Drake hadn’t doctored were the voluminous expense tallies that he’d run up to cover his personal activities. Company write-offs. Even these had received some strokes of a felt marker, blackening out damaging dollar figures.

  Then pay dirt.

  Avy found a few accident claims filed by one employee; also in the stack were partial pages of the insurance claim that included some testimonials. Then she found some copies of suspicious checks written by the claimant to Drake Labrador for amounts that were slightly less than the insurance settlement. It was an obvious sign that both parties were profiting.

  “Here he goes again,” said Avy. “I think he’s been staging accidents in his own company, with willing employees, just to reap the profits. There’s evidence of a laboratory fire that he collected on. This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  Sebastian had his nose in a document. “Yeah, I would imagine he has a lot of tax deductions for things that are iffy or don’t qualify. We haven’t got a whole lot to go on. Most of these dates are old.”

  “He’s had a long time to fuck things up,�
�� said Avy. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s not like me at all—the foul mouth. I’m running on pure emotion. You’re right. We have to find something more recent.” She picked up a crinkled yellow piece of paper that had a recent date. Cartoon characters filled its margins. Remembering the legal pad from which it had come from, she thought it might have belonged to his current memo stationary. It had been on the top pile in his desk. Fresh notes.

  “This is weird,” she said. “He’s drawing little pictures to himself instead of spelling things out. He has what looks like a small black circle with a chain on it. Below that is a stick airplane with an arrow pointing down to some squiggles. Along the margin, he writes ‘five, nine, nine TANGO’ in descending order. The name ‘Auggie’ appears. Below that there is a little cross or crucifix sitting in a batch of flowers. Then it says R-I-P. Below that is the name ‘Buck.’ It looks like some kind of an anagram.”

  “Lemme see that.”

  She gave him the paper, prepared to watch his reaction. Janus had said disaster was on the horizon. There might be a connection. What a twist of fate it would be if Drake had sketched out a diabolical plan, allowing her to find it by pure chance. That would be too juicy. The odds of such a thing were astronomical. She was about to wipe the theory from her thoughts when Sebastian spoke.

  “Wait a minute. We might have something here. The squiggles sure look like water to me. You know the little spikes and waves? R-I-P means ‘rest in peace.’ That fits with the little cross, which looks like it could be a grave marker. The little line attached to the circle looks like a bomb and fuse. I don’t get the rest of it, but just that part looks suspicious. You think he’s going to bomb a plane or something?”

  “A commercial airliner? I don’t think he has the balls for that, or the brains. A plane going down in water is a scary thought though. Maybe some kind of an insurance scam? It’s obvious he does those things. We have evidence of that right here. But that would mean he… Oh, hello? Maybe a little plane, huh?”

  “Maybe a corporate plane, Avy. How did your stepfather fly to business meetings? Do you remember him telling you anything about it?”

  “Just that he was taking Citation, a small charter airline. Maybe Citation has something to do with the planes we found in his company inventory.”

  “I’ve never heard of Citation Airlines. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m sorry. I never paid much attention. He was always leaving, never telling us where he was going. In fact, I was glad to see him leave most of the time. It got to the point where I didn’t care if he ever came back home.”

  “Do you remember any ‘Buck’ in the company?”

  “I might have seen the name when I was visiting their website, but I can’t be sure. It would have been just another employee name. Let’s Google all of it at the library.”

  They drove to the library and went straight to the desk. Abigail Folger hurried toward them from a back aisle, her face etched with concern. The large woman held a palm over the top of her bosom, panting like she was out of breath.

  Abigail kept her voice low but intense. “I thought you should know that there were some strange men in here the other day asking about you two. They were from Cyberflow. They threatened to fire my son if I didn’t answer their questions. I didn’t tell them much, I swear. I would be very careful if I were you. You might even report them to the police. But please don’t say I had anything to do with it.”

  There was little doubt the woman was terrified. They’d had their own run-in with the security thugs, although she didn’t tell Abigail that. Avy apologized for the scare, but added her thanks for the tip-off. She produced her card then walked straight to a computer. When she brought up the Cyberflow website, her code wouldn’t clear. Access denied. She tried again, getting the same result.

  “They kicked you out of the system,” said Sebastian. “You’re more of a threat than you realize.”

  She looked at him. “I was a threat the day I was born. Now what do we do?”

  “Key in five-nine-nine-tango.”

  She did so. It produced gibberish. Next she tried “Citation.” The website of an aircraft manufacturer came up showing different models of Cessna corporate jets.

  “Gotcha,” said Avy. “It’s the model name of a jet. He has a corporate jet, a Citation jet. Now it makes sense. Oh, Sebastian, do you think we’re on to something here or are we just blowing smoke?”

  “We’ve got to check it out. What if he slipped up and by a coincidence we blundered right into it? Wouldn’t you say we owe it to ourselves to see if we’re on the right track before we call it quits? Can you remember what airport he flew out of?”

  “That one is easy. It was the Raleigh-Durham airport. Sometimes Mom would have to drive him there when the limo didn’t show up on time. He never wanted to leave his car in the parking area. He said it cost too much so he always got a ride both ways.”

  “Heh. His extravagance, coupled with his notions on how to cut corners is asinine. The man is a loon—a dangerous one at that. We have to figure out a way to find out what’s in store for that plane. In particular, if it’s scheduled for any flights in the near future. It sure would be nice to know who will

  be on it, not to mention where it’s going.”

  Avy thought about that for a minute. “If I can locate where the plane is stored at the airport, maybe I can find out if there’s anyone in charge of it. Maybe a few simple questions would tell us what we need to know. I’ll have to impersonate an authority figure—someone who might make that call.”

  “I’m not following how you’re going to pull that off.”

  “I’m an actress. I’m no stranger to voice-over. Drake’s secretary makes all of his appointments. Her name is Linda Wu. I’ve talked to her dozens of times. She’s Drake’s filter. She’s also Chinese American, chews a lot of gum, and always talks like a thug on the phone. Not real bright. I’m sure I could mimic her voice. I remember her being there two weeks ago, so there’s no reason to think she isn’t still on his payroll.”

  “Hell, yes. Give it a try.”

  Avy stuffed three sticks of gum into her mouth. She found a phone inside the library. She called the airport and spoke to several people before an operator routed her to a hangar manager. A male voice answered on the other end, almost incoherent from chewing noises.

  “Yap, maintenance bay. Mr. Bad Wrench speaking. What can I do for you?”

  “Yah, this is Linda calling. We need to—”

  “Linda who?”

  “Linda Wu. Drake’s secretary. I’m calling for the boss.” She snapped the gum over her lips then made a mewing sound.

  “Oh, yo, Lindeee! What’s the haps? You sound like you have a cold. How you doing?”

  “It’s been a bitch. I think I’m coming down with tuberculotus or something. The big man wants to know what the fuck you’re doing with the Citation.”

  “Look, we’ll have a technician on it in plenty of time. We’re waiting on a fuel injector that has to be Fed-Exed. Those things take time, you know.”

  “Just double checking. You do know when it has to be ready, right?”

  “It’ll be ready at the agreed upon time.”

  “Let me jog your memory about the agreed upon time. I hope you got the timeframe down. No screw-ups. You better have the right day. You would be so busted if you had it wrong, dude.”

  “Nothing’s changed, it’s still Tuesday morning.”

  “So how long do you think these bullshit repairs will take?”

  “Just a few days. Don’t worry, she’ll lift off next week. Hey, are we still on for lobster tomorrow?”

  Avy blinked, missing a beat. “You’ll have to ask me again when I’m feeling better.”

  “Oookaaay. So what about—”

  Avy blew a small, puffy sigh when she hung up the phone. Sebastian’s face was one big question mark. “It’s a morning flight next Tuesday,” she said. “He took the bait, he thought I was her. Let
’s just hope Mr. Bad Wrench doesn’t compare notes with Linda Wu over a conversation that never happened.”

  “Hell, you had me convinced. That gives us time to dig. So far his notes jibe with what we’ve found.”

  She nodded. “We’re onto something. I just don’t know what yet.”

  “We can talk about it over a late breakfast. My treat.”

  “You’re the hungriest guy I know.” She wouldn’t mind having something light, like a salad. She would have to watch her figure around him.

  “What can I say? I also make food disappear.”

  ###

  They drove downtown to a small restaurant called the Burgersaurus that had rickety chairs and tables the size of manhole lids. Everything on the menu topped at least three grand in calories. And here she thought she’d get a healthy salad. Not. But she wasn’t about to mock the restaurant or the menu, it might have been one of Sebastian’s favorite haunts. Figuring out his priorities was fast becoming one of her preoccupations. After the order came, she discovered he liked onions so she gave hers up. Another little detail she added to his “like” list.

  “So,” he said between bites. “If this plane is headed for an accident of some type, we better figure out how it’s going to go down. Too bad we couldn’t get a flight plan ahead of schedule. I think they fill those out the day of the flight, along with a passenger list. I wonder who is supposed to be on that flight. Think that could be the disaster Janus is talking about?”

  “All good questions.” She dabbed her chin. “I wish he would show up right now and offer us a little help.”

  “That’s just it. With Janus, it’s one shove on the swing. From there on out, you pump. He told me once that to take you there would dilute the whole process—contaminate it. He said he could ‘show’ you how to get there.”

  “I wonder who his higher power is,” Avy dared to ask.

  “Don’t know. I’m not sure if a man who can walk straight through walls has one. Not to say he doesn’t have a higher authority. I just think he might be his own internal power balance. I’ve always thought that he doesn’t belong in this dimension, but just pops in like he’s got some kind of a visitor’s pass. I think he belongs everywhere at the same time if that’s possible. But I know his premonitions are right on.”