by Ballan, Greg
Erik likened a mystery to an algebraic expression. A good detective had to find all the variables to solve for ‘X.’ Once all the variables were accounted for, it was only a matter of mechanics to solve the equation. The missing element of Eric’s unique equation lay with Dr. Mills. Why did Shanda go to the doctor? What would warrant her abduction? He strained to reach a conclusion but shook his head in failure. He had to look for more; once he held all of the facts, he knew the equation would solve itself.
He placed a call to Martin Denton.
“Counselor,” he began in an icy tone. “Our mutual agreement has been broken. I’ll be faxing you my proof of that shortly.”
Denton demanded an explanation.
“It’s about my wife. She didn’t die in that car accident. It was an orchestrated kidnapping – covered up. I’ll have more details later this afternoon.”
Denton swore up and down he had no knowledge and insisted on a face-to-face meeting where he could examine the original evidence.
“This evening will be fine, counselor. My office.”
Erik had one more stop to make before he returned to visit Dr. Mills. He took the evidence and Eunice’s transcript back to his office and secured them in his wall safe. He had a bad feeling in the back of his head. His dark assumption was probably true, but he refused to admit it until he had proof. Mills held that elusive proof, but he wanted the answer before he confronted the doctor. This meant a visit to a source that owed him a favor.
* * * *
Microbytes PC was owned by an ex federal officer who specialized in computer tampering. This particular store was a ‘front.’ Erik knew that the ex fed was in the business of selling information. A lot of what occurred at Microbytes involved delving into the grey areas of cyber law. Legislation had not kept pace with technology. There were several loopholes and gaps that an experienced computer specialist used to their advantage.
Charlie Gallagher had the smarts and the technology to capitalize on this market.
Erik walked into the store, and seeing no one manning the counter, he called over the counter. “Charlie, are you hiding back there?”
Erik heard heavy footsteps approaching from a back hallway.
“That sounds like ‘Secret Agent Man’ paying me another visit.” Charlie Gallagher’s voice preceded his presence at the front counter. “I was right. Erik Knight, what brings you here to my neck of the woods?” he asked, seating himself on a plush swivel chair.
“I need access to some files in a network that I don’t have authority to enter. I was hoping to avail myself of your unusual skills for this shady job.”
Gallagher gave him a cautious look. Erik then said, “You owe me one.” Gallagher sighed, nodded and asked, “What exactly are we looking for and whose privacy are we violating?”
“Franklin Primary Care. I need information pertaining to my wife’s last visit. Her doctor was less than forthcoming. I have it on good authority that he’s lying through his teeth.”
Gallagher sneered. “Really?” He then cracked his knuckles. “This is, of course, extremely confidential.”
“What is?” Erik replied deadpan.
“Exactly,” Gallagher said as he pressed a concealed switch that allowed the detective access to the back room.
Erik followed Gallagher down a windowless hallway which led to a colorful door with a formidable computerized lock. Gallagher tapped several keystrokes, and the door unlocked with a loud click. He then pulled open the door to a poorly lit stairway that led to another short hallway. They walked briefly, and were met by another locked door with a similar computerized mechanism. Gallagher unlocked the door and motioned for Erik to step in.
Erik was stunned by several banks of computers, all operating simultaneously, with dozens of monitors displaying data at a dizzying rate.
“Welcome to the information superhighway,” Gallagher announced proudly as he sat behind a 24 inch color display screen.
Erik seized a nearby chair and Gallagher explained, “This system mirrors one that I designed for the CIA three years ago, only this one is far more advanced. With this terminal and mainframe I can access any databank in the country – probably in the entire world. This system can negotiate with any host system and can break password subroutines in milliseconds.” He punched in several commands.
Erik peered at the hardware surrounding them. He estimated its dollar value was in the millions. “Uhm, Charlie, how the hell did you get all this stuff?”
“No questions, Agent Knight; remember our agreement.”
“No questions.” Erik clamped his mouth shut pondering whether he should do something about this setup. Gallagher clearly had access to data he shouldn’t have, but right now all Erik cared about was Shanda. If Gallagher could help him obtain the last piece of this puzzle, it was worth turning a blind eye on the entrepreneur – for now.
“Okay, we’re in.” Gallagher reported. “Let’s see … Can you give me your wife’s SSN?”
“014-57-4683.”
Now in hacker mode, Gallagher began typing several commands and clicking his way through multiple layers of desktop windows while he watched in silence. Nearly ten minutes went by as the operator’s fingers danced over his keyboard.
“What’s taking so long?” he asked Gallagher.
“Part of her file has been erased; I’m recovering those bits of data and piecing it back together. The algorithm is old, but effective,” Gallagher reported, never taking his eyes off the computer screen.
After another two minutes Gallagher spun around in his chair. “It’s all back now, Agent Knight. I’ll give you a few moments of privacy while you read the file.” Gallagher stood up and walked away, busying himself with another bank of computers.
Erik studied the medical report, dated the day of her abduction. He felt hot tears rolling down his cheek. Shanda, his beloved wife, was pregnant. He read the previous entry in her file. She had gone in a week before for a pregnancy test, and had then gone back to her doctor for a prescription for prenatal vitamins.
Erik pressed the ‘scroll down’ key twice to her last visit – on the day of her abduction. She had undergone a quick internal exam and had been given information on a special diet to follow. She had seen the doctor a total of three times, but all the records referring to the pregnancy had been intentionally deleted from her file.
Erik stared at the screen until a noise behind him garnered his attention.
“Charlie, can I get hardcopy of this?” he choked out, struggling to hold himself together. What he had suspected and feared had just been proven.
“Sure thing,” Gallagher answered. “I’m so sorry Erik. I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay, Charlie; you gave me the final variable I needed to figure this out.”
Gallagher printed out the entire medical record, including doctor’s comments and notes, case history and medical date stamps that proved the veracity of the file. He gathered all the hardcopies and dropped them in a file before handing it to Erik.
“Here is everything that would be of interest to you. Paperwork is date stamped from Franklin Primary’s own server ID number. There can be no doubt that the records did exist and this provides proof that they were deleted intentionally.”
“Thanks, Charlie. It’s my turn to owe you one.”
* * * *
Erik sat behind the wheel of his car and wept for his wife and child. Shanda was kidnapped because she was carrying his child – a hybrid child. The evidence of a cover-up was overwhelming, right down to the federal agent who squelched the police reports. His sorrow turned to anger. He fired up his car, raced the engine, squealed the front tires, and sped off toward Franklin Primary Care – and Dr. Mills.
His black Monte Carlo SS screeched to a halt directly in front of the Franklin Primary Care building. A police officer was about to order him to move his car but was stopped short when the enraged agent flashed his government shield. Erik put his fist through the heavy wooden
door and stormed into the waiting room. The remnants of the splintered door and fell around him. He flashed his badge at the same receptionist who had been difficult earlier in the morning.
“Page Dr. Mills.”
As the receptionist nervously followed his instruction, Erik paced like a caged tiger.
Dr. Mills entered the waiting room, taken aback by the sight of him.
“I told you I’d be back,” Erik said, closing in on the doctor.
Before the doctor could say anything, Erik landed a massive right cross that catapulted the physician ten feet in the air. Mills landed on top of a table full of magazines, crashing it into pieces then he slid to the floor. Patients muttered in panic as he advanced on his target.
“You lied to me, Mills. My wife saw you three times last month. You gave her a pregnancy test, didn’t you? You son of a bitch!” He lifted the doctor like a rag doll with one arm and brought him nose to nose with him, then tossed the helpless physician.
The doctor screamed as he landed in a heap on the waiting room floor.
Two security officers appeared, and attempted to apprehend Erik but he drew his pistols with lightening speed. “You take one more step, and I’ll drop you both where you stand!” He locked his Wilsons on the hearts of each officer. “Back off before you both get hurt.”
The officers put their hands up in defeat and slowly retreated while Agent Knight turned his attention back to the doctor.
“They made me lie. Please, stop,” Dr. Mills begged.
“Who made you lie?”Erik demanded.
“If I say anything, I’m a dead man.”
Erik grabbed a handful of the doctor’s lab coat with his left hand and held him off the ground. His eyes were burning with fury. “You’ve got a problem then, because I’ll kill you right now if you don’t.” He threw the hapless physician into a nearby couch – the force of the impact knocked the couch over. The sound of breaking bone was audible.
“My arm, you’ve broken my arm,” the doctor cried out in agony while he supported the site of the break.
“Good thing you’re a doctor then,” Erik spat bitterly as he pulled the man up by the collar. “Spill it Mills. I’m losing my patience with you. I’ll break every bone in your body if I have to, doctor.”
“All right, all right,” he shrieked.
“Fine.” Erik placed the doctor on the floor. “Talk.”
Mills cradled his broken arm as he began his story. “About a year and a half ago, two men came into my office and flashed badges similar to yours. They didn’t give me their names, and I wasn’t about to ask. They knew I was your wife’s physician and they wanted to be informed if she ever got pregnant – as well as when her medical appointments were, following the diagnosis. When her pregnancy test came back positive I called them, and I informed them each time she had a follow-up appointment.”
“Give me the phone number,” Erik said flatly.
Mills went to the receptionist’s desk and trembled as he wrote the number on a scrap piece of paper with his good hand. Erik took the paper and shoved it in his pocket. He still wanted to tear the doctor apart limb from limb, but causing the doctor further injury wouldn’t undo the damage already done.
He had his answers; now he had to put the puzzle together. The records he obtained from Charlie Gallagher, Mills’s confession, along with the police transcripts made a damning case against the government. But the bureaucracy was monolithic.
He gave one last threatening look toward the physician. “Is there anything else, Mills? Because I really don’t want to have to come back here again.” Erik took a menacing step toward a still silent Mills.
“No!” Mills screamed cowering. “That’s it, I swear. That’s all I know.”
With a curt nod, Erik turned around and headed from the building, through the opening he’d punched in the door.
Madame’s Restaurant, 1930 hours.
Erik photocopied the documents he obtained from Eunice Kim and Charlie Gallagher. He locked the originals in his wall safe and stored a digital copy on the hard drive of his computer. He then phoned in an order to the kitchen of Madame’s to fill his empty stomach. He felt mentally tired from running around like a madman since his return from Paris.
Though his body didn’t require rest, his mind thrived on the peace and tranquility that sleep brought. Sleep was a way to recharge his mental faculties and gave his enhanced senses a rest from the constant bombardment of day-to-day life. He took a sip from his coffee cup and then nibbled at the turkey sandwich Alissa had brought him.
He heard footsteps, followed by a precise tapping pattern on the door.
“Yes, Alissa,” he called.
“Mr. Denton is here to see you.”
“It’s open,” Erik said, gathering his papers in a pile and then gulping the last of his coffee as Alissa opened the door and allowed Martin Denton entry. For the first time that Erik could remember, Denton didn’t have his bodyguard with him.
Erik pointed toward the sofa. “Have a seat, Martin.”
Alissa left, quickly closing the door on her way out. She understood the gravity of the meeting about to take place.
Denton tossed his coat on the sofa and sat down next to it. “What have you got?”
“For your reading pleasure.” Erik rose from his chair and handed the attorney the copied documents.
Denton took his time going through the papers and as he read, Erik noted the color slowly drained from his face. Denton finally looked up. “I don’t know what to say. I assure you that nobody in our chain of command authorized this abduction.”
Erik fished out the scrap of paper kept in his pocket and showed it to Denton. “Why don’t we dial this phone number and see who picks up?”
“Where did you get that number?” Denton asked him.
“From my wife’s doctor, after some moderate persuasion.” He dialed the number on his agency phone and activated the speakerphone. After three rings a recorded voice came on, announcing that the number dialed was no longer in service.
Erik severed the connection. “I’m not surprised.”
Denton reached out. “Give me the number. I can have our people trace it. The phone company will tell us who had this number before.”
“Fair enough.” But Erik copied the number on a clean piece of stationery.
“They wanted my child, Martin. I suspect the military or some black ops organization above our conventional chain of command. I think Nancy Bertoni has the final piece of the puzzle. It’s imperative that we get to her and keep that bastard Hendrix out of the picture – for now.”
Denton lifted a brow in question.
“I’m convinced Hendrix has a part in this, but I won’t wring his neck unless it’s absolutely necessary. First I want to sit down and have a nice leisurely cup of coffee with our wayward secretary and take a good long peek at whatever she so desperately wants me to see. I have a feeling that it’s all related.”
“I don’t follow you,” the counselor replied.
“Nancy Bertoni, the attempts on Monique LaSalle’s life, my wife’s abduction and staged death…. My gut’s telling me they’re all related. I’ll bet you anything that Bertoni has the final piece of the puzzle.”
“I hope for your sake and Shanda’s that you’re right. Meanwhile I’ll shake a few trees and see what nuts fall out.” Denton closed the file and placed it on a nearby coffee table. “At least she’s alive, thank God for that amazing news. We’ll find her, and when we do, I’ll see to it that those responsible are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
“That won’t be necessary, counselor. When I catch up to whoever did this, there won’t be anything left to prosecute. A direct attack on my family calls for swift justice. I’ll be judge, jury and executioner. And God help anybody stupid enough to get in my way. I’ll treat them just like those who took Shanda.”
Denton gave him a pointed look. “Be careful. Just because you’re powerful doesn’t make you above the l
aw.”
“With all due respect, counselor, screw the law. Where were all these laws to protect my wife and unborn child from the government? I don’t trust the government or the law to handle this matter. The government didn’t heed the law when it came to her abduction, so why should I?”
“You’re upset. I won’t argue with you about semantics now. Let’s focus on getting your wife home safely. Promise me that you’ll play it cool until I can look into all of this. You need to focus on Nancy Bertoni, ensure that whatever she has for you gets delivered into your hands safely. I’ll look into Robert Hildebrandt and get his bio for you by morning. We still need to get a bead on where the order for the LaSalle termination came from. Once you’ve looked that over we’ll arrange a little chat.”
Erik nodded, acknowledging that other piece of his puzzle, but said nothing.
“Remember, Erik. Nothing gets accomplished through recklessness. We’ll do this by the book and have your wife back where she belongs before you know it. Would you like me to have three plain clothes staking out the restaurant to assist you when Nancy Bertoni shows up?”
“That’ll be fine. But have them drive ordinary cars, will you? Those ‘Crown Vics’ are a dead giveaway”
* * * *
Erik Knight Jr. happily lay nestled against his mother’s bosom, his glowing eyes intently studying his surroundings. Shanda looked on, overwhelmed with all of the new motherly feelings of warmth, love and tenderness recently unleashed in her. More than once, she caught herself making the exact same ridiculous noises all parents adopted while speaking with an infant. She was also amazed by how deep her bond with her son had become in such a short time.
She knew when he was hungry, when he felt confused, and when he was happy and content. The one fact that she had difficulty relating to was his quiet demeanor. Her son didn’t coo, didn’t squawk and didn’t vocalize any of the normal baby sounds she had associated with infants.
She heard a mechanical whine and raised a glance to the cameras behind the protective sphere. A feeling of dread came over her.
