Alena said out loud, “Mom?”
A slap to her mouth from someone in front of her was her reward.
“No talking!”
#
That evening while rinsing my dinner dishes in my apartment, I got a tag from Vincent.
“Leanna didn’t come home. She sometimes works overtime, so I called her comm. It’s not answering. I tagged her office and she did not come back after lunch. Her coworkers said she was looking forward to lunch with her daughter from Earth.”
“Did you try tagging Alena?”
“Yes, but the same thing. I had to leave a voice mail. Neither of them has called back.”
“Strange,” I replied. “Maybe they went shopping. You know, girl stuff.”
“Maybe. But why would both of their comms be off?”
“Could be they wanted some time alone,” I suggested. “They haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
“You don’t think something’s happened to them?”
“I doubt it. Give them a few more hours.”
But I hadn’t totally convinced myself. After disconnecting, I tagged Mrs. Albert.
“She’s not here. My husband tagged me to say she did not show up for his afternoon class in biology. That’s was unusual enough for him to notice.”
“Will you tag me when she gets home?” I asked.
After I hung up, I pondered this new development.
Now what the frick has happened?
Chapter 17
At nine the next morning, while I ate my breakfast in my apartment, I got a tag from Vincent.
“Lee didn’t come home,” he said. “She knows she should tag me when she’s spending the night somewhere else.”
“Did you check her work?” as I munched on my scrambled eggs.
“Yep. She didn’t show up this morning.”
Oh dear. My worst nightmare may have begun.
“Let me call around,” I added.
After we disconnected, I sent a message to Acorn to tell him of the disappearance of Leanna and Alena. The last we knew they were going to lunch at a deli on the north side of the campus yesterday.
I tagged Dr. Albert and he informed me of her absence from his class. Which was very unusual since she always attended his lectures on xenobiology.
“How’s she doin’?”
“Alena’s my best student. By far. Her research is ‘over the top.’”
Then I tagged my team members for a virtual meeting. Ron couldn’t make it because he was working. It was important that he keep up his job at Stenno’s. Zetto was at another HO rally. But Vincent and Andy showed up on my wall.
Vincent and I brought Andy up to speed on what we knew.
Vincent said, “Jake, what did Dr. Albert say?”
“He said Alena presented a draft of her next paper and it was a looloo. In it, she claimed a common ancestor for humanity and the mercons. It was so controversial that he wouldn’t put his name on it.”
Andy added, “If that gets out, the HO guys are gonna hate it.”
Vincent said, “Do you suppose HO is involved?”
“Let’s not leap to conclusions just yet, guys. Vincent, can you meet me at the ops center ASAP? We need to trace their last steps, starting at the deli where they had lunch.”
#
I kept an operations center in the Marino Office Suites on Main Street. Kerle Company managed the property, which included rentals on the first through fifth floors. What I reserved was the full basement.
My hardware expert, Andy Warden, provided the security we needed. Andy had installed hidden cameras and secure access to the entire basement. The basement was not listed in the elevators, nor was there an entrance to the elevators. Visitors had to walk down the stairs.
There were four doors in the basement. The first was a small room used for electrical power and maintenance.
Our shooting range entrance stood opposite it on the right. The second and third doors on the left led to the main operations center.
To gain access to either the ops center or the shooting range required keying in the password and pressing one’s palm on the flat rectangle to the right of the keypad. That palm reader was painted the same color as the walls. Anyone entering the basement had to know it was there.
There were no windows on any wall of the basement. I didn’t want anyone peering into one of our rooms.
Our operations center consisted of three large rooms. The doors to the dorm and the planning room opened to the basement hallway.
The first room consisted of the dorm, with an adjacent bathroom and shower stall. The dorm held six bunk beds, stacked in pairs. All of us could sleep there and often did while planning a spy operation.
The next room held the kitchen and dining room, with a small jail and pantry for storing non-perishable foods.
The jail room of six foot by eight foot had its own bunk hanging from the wall, a small sink, a toilet, and a shower, all of stainless steel. To reduce the chances of anyone escaping, we used metal fixtures everywhere, including the walls. The door to the cell opened onto the dining room and on the outside of the door we installed a sliding panel over a one-way mirror so the occupant could not see or hear who might peek, but we could see in. As long as the dining light was out, that is.
As a precaution, I had hidden cameras installed looking at all four walls of the jail. They connected to our ops center AI, Ruta. If anything happened on any wall, Ruta would alert anyone in the center, as well as Acorn and anyone currently outside.
We planned our operations and sometimes ate on a large table in the third main room. The evidence oven took up part of the space where we could burn body parts, clothing, disguises, etc. It had a vapor scrubber connected so even the fumes were thoroughly burned. Next to the oven was the lathe we’d use to file the numbers off guns. Sometimes we used acid to remove the last of the numbers.
On the four walls of the planning room rested whiteboards connected to Ruta. I chose a large space so we could put a hospital bed there if we needed.
Ron and I had installed an escape stairway in a narrow passageway from the dormitory room that allowed us to exit onto the parking lot in the alley behind the building. The exit door had no handle on the outside. I made sure each of the six of us knew how to escape from the ops center via the hidden stairs.
With the railroad just behind us, and Bagel Joe’s Deli across the street, we could feel comfortable in this run-down section of Zor.
#
I arrived at the parking lot of the ops center before Vincent. He had to travel across the Oreo River through downtown and I had to cover only a few blocks. When he pulled his car into the parking garage, I tooted my horn. He climbed into my car, wearing a beige shirt, jeans for pants, and a gray jacket. We left at once.
I drove slowly past the eateries along South Central Avenue.
Vincent pointed to one and said, “Let’s check that one.”
I pulled into their parking lot.
The owner wasn’t delighted to see us. Too busy behind the register. With a nod of his head, he pointed to a waitress.
“Ask Shirley.”
Shirley, dressed in a yellow and white uniform that ended just above her knees, reported two women being abducted yesterday.
She said, “I tagged the police and they came. Asked a lot of questions too.
“It was just after lunch. They were at a table outside. I noticed them because the shorter woman gave me a large tip of ten sols. For a pair of sandwiches and two Blackstone iced teas? I rushed after them to ask her if she’d made a mistake.”
“Did you see where they headed next?”
“No, but I don’t think they expected what happened.”
I looked at Vincent.
She continued, “I saw two guys rush up to both of them, put black hoods over their faces, and shove them into a van. Then they tore off.”
Shit. My nightmare had come true.
“Did you see anything unusual about the van?” asked Vincent. “D
id it have a sign on its side?”
The waitress shook her head. “Nope. And I didn’t get the plate either. It all happened so fast. In front of Scarlett’s. They sell women’s clothing.”
I asked, “What color was the van?”
“Black, I think. Or maybe a dark gray. It all happened so fast.”
“How many guys did you see?”
“I saw three of them. Two grabbed the women and a third opened the van door for them.”
“Did you see a driver?”
“No, but there must have been one,” she replied.
“Can you describe the men?”
She shook her head. “They wore all-black clothes. Even their heads were covered with something black. All I could see were their eyes.”
“Were they white, black, tall, short, lean, fat?” I asked.
“The cops asked the same questions. White, I think. I tell ya, it all happened so fast.”
“Tall, short, lean, fat?” asked Vincent.
“Kinda tall, like you guys. Not fat―though they were big. Lots of muscle maybe. I’d hate to meet one of them in an alley.”
Chapter 18
I had Vincent tag Andy and Ron as I drove back to the ops center.
Ron said his shift would be over soon but he needed to take a quick shower at his home.
Andy said he could come right away.
Then I had Vincent tag the cops to start a Missing Person’s report while I stopped to refuel.
An hour after we returned to the ops center, Ron sat in the planning room in a pink shirt, gray slacks, and gray jacket. His hair glistened so he might have just washed it.
Andy sat in one chair in a gray business suit, his ear pressed to his comm as he spoke to someone.
I tagged Deek Tanny, my friend and head of the Homicide and Robbery Department of the Zor Metro Police. I put the conversation on one wall of our ops room. My comm would transcribe our conversation and display my words in red and Deek’s in blue.
“Alena Dani is missing.”
“I know,” replied Deek. “I saw the MP report.”
“Do you have any leads?”
“Jake, we may be friends but that doesn’t mean I work for you. I can’t report on the progress of an ongoing investigation.”
“She’s my daughter, damn it! Would you like my help if Marcie and Doreen turned up missing?”
A sigh greeted my ears. “I see your point. The black van could be anybody’s. The wit did not see the plate. Her description of the three men was vague too. Could be anybody.”
“Do your snitches say anything?”
“I haven’t had time to ask them yet. But this has all the earmarks of a professional grab.”
“That must narrow the number of suspects,” I added.
“Yep.”
“Who are the crime bosses?”
“Morentoss, whom you know. Big Rick, Gregor, Slippery Steve, the list goes on. There’s a lot of crime in this city. But I doubt any of them ordered it.”
I asked, “Why?”
“We can’t find any reason for them to do this.”
“What if it’s political?”
“What do you mean?” asked Deek.
“Alena was going to publish a paper connecting human DNA to mercon DNA. She suggested we both have a common ancestor.”
“Holy crap! If that gets out, we won’t be able to contain the riots.”
“So somebody might have a motive to prevent that.”
“Hmm. This is a new line of investigation. Thanks.”
“I suggest, merely suggest, since as you pointed out I’m not your boss, that maybe the police ought to look into HO or RUFF.”
“How do you know your daughter was going to publish that?”
“I talked with Dr. Albert, her advisor at the university. He refused to put his name on it.”
Silence.
“Deek, who are the key players for HO or RUFF who could do this?”
“Hmm. I see your point. We’ll look into it but the chief is not eager to start a pissing contest with Coocher. After all, the guy may be our next PM. As in my boss’s boss’s boss. That’s all I can tell you.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Jake, I know you’re a PI. One with some skill too. But if you get too close to Coocher or Horton and I hear about it from the chief, you’ll be burning bridges I don’t think you want to burn.”
“Got it. But she’s my daughter. I can’t stop looking for her. You wouldn’t stop if it was Marcie and Doreen. And you’d break some rules, too.”
With the silence on the other end, I added, “Goodbye, Deek.” I flared my nostrils to disconnect. I looked around the room and settled my eyes on Vincent just as he stood in his gray suit.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“Lee’s gone.”
“So?”
“I’m gonna squeeze those bastards until one of them talks.”
“Sit down!” I ordered. “We have a much better chance of getting both of them back safely if we act as a team. After all, Alena is my daughter.”
Vincent glared at me. He glanced around at Andy and Ron, but in the end sat down.
I said, “Computer, retain a copy and erase the wall.”
After the blank whiteness appeared, I pointed to one wall and said, “Guy Coocher.” His name appeared at the top.
I pointed to another wall and said, “Craig Horton.” His name appeared.
I turned to my team.
“Now, let’s find out what we know about both men and organizations.”
To Vincent I said, “You can start by tapping into the comms of Coocher and Horton.”
“That’s Zetto’s area,” Vincent answered. “He hasn’t finished training me. I’m not sure I know how to do it.”
“How’s he doing, by the way?”
“Don’t know. I’m supposed to meet him,” he raised his left arm, “in ten minutes.”
“You’d better get going then,” I replied.
#
Zetto Teasely entered the small diner and heard a bell tingle as he closed the door. He strode past the tables, went directly to the door marked “Employees Only,” and pushed it open. No one seemed to notice him. Maybe it was his gray long-sleeved shirt and blue-jean coveralls. He might work there. The diner was small but busy. Like many small businesses, employee retention was a problem. If another job offered fifty cents more an hour, workers hopped.
Two men sweated over on a metallic table, with pots and pans hanging from nails on the walls. They didn’t say anything to the intruder, being busy with their heads down and attention focused on their cooking. Besides, their backs were to him.
Zetto noticed a row of partially filled dishes in front of one man.
Zetto went to the back door and out into the alley, closing the door behind him. He studied the assortment of opened boxes and a large trash bin with rubber lid. He leaned next to the trash bin and waited.
Two minutes later, a man entered the alley. He walked up to the bin.
“Have a light?”
Vincent Stone asked with both hands turned down in front of him.
“Sorry. Don’t smoke. Have you the time?”
Zetto stood erect and raised his right hand.
Satisfied that both had used the coded phrases and motions showing they weren’t tailed, Vincent stuck his palm out and Zetto placed a small data cube in it. Vincent closed his fingers over the cube and put his hand into his gray jacket. The air was cool, but not enough for their breaths to show.
Zetto added, “I read something about a surprise. And then the code.”
Vincent nodded. “I’ll check it out. Are you in any danger?”
Zetto shook his head. “They don’t suspect a thing.”
“Want a gun?”
“No. That would alarm them. They search me every time before a meeting.”
“Careful, eh?”
“Very.”
#
Vincent returned to
the ops center and placed the data cube in a slot next to his computer. With practiced fingers, he examined the list of files. Fifteen minutes later, he leaned back. The BIS decryption software was good—very good.
There were fourteen messages between Guy Coocher and Stenton Duran. Three of them used the word ‘surprise’ and asked if the materials were ready but Vincent still had no idea what that referred to.
And four messages from Duran to a guy with a last name of Hoskins referred to a package, but once again, no explanation. Maybe the two of them knew but Vincent had no clue what they talked about.
One thing was evident though. A message from Hoskins asked if he should dispose of the package. Duran passed it on to Coocher who replied, “No. I want to find out what that girl knows first. After that, you can do what you want with them. Just don’t leave any traces to you or me.”
Another message from Durant to Hoskins said, “It’s time to find out what she knows.”
Is “she” Alena?
#
Hoskins observed as the last of the lights went out in the residential neighborhood. With a black glove, he lifted his sleeve to uncover his comm and stole a glance at its lit face. Nine-thirty p.m. He raised his binoculars and scanned the back yard for evidence of a dog. No fence, no doghouse in the yard.
He smiled. This will be easy.
With his black clothing, he didn’t expect anyone to see him in the bushes. He waited another half hour to make sure the woman got to sleep. He pulled on his night vision goggles to get his eyes adjusted to its green colors. No lights came on in the house by the appointed time so he left his hiding place and proceeded to the back door.
Unlocked.
Jeesh. These folks are trusting.
He wouldn’t have to use his glass cutter and suction cup this time. With a turn of the handle, he cracked the door open and waited for the sound of barking from any house dog. Silence greeted him and he smiled.
Piece of cake.
He closed the back door slowly and snuck along the carpeted hallway on his athletic shoes. He climbed the stairs carefully, testing each step for any creaky boards. At the top, he peeked in three of the doors. A pantry full of towels and whatnot. A bathroom. An unoccupied guest bedroom.
That leaves only the end door.
Everything was dark behind him so he would not have to fear a light penetrating the room and showing his shadow as he approached the door.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 10
