Tagged

by Robert L. Wise

  “Whoa,” Matt wheezed, and motioned for Adah to follow him.

  The next houses went by quickly and they soon came to the end of the block. “I’m going to cross the street first,” Matt whispered. “Wait a solid five minutes and then come across. If I get caught, retreat, get out of here.”

  Adah nodded.

  On tiptoes, Matt darted across the street and dived behind a big oak tree. He lay in the grass, expecting someone to grab him, but he heard and felt nothing. Five minutes later, Adah hurried across the street.

  “Do exactly as I do,” Matthew whispered into her ear. “Remember, if people attack, we split, and you simply run. Here we go.”

  Twisting through the thick shrubs, Matt wiggled his way into the backyard adjacent to their home. Crawling with his face nearly on the ground, he wormed his way through the back hedge and passed through a hole at the bottom of the wooden fence. Inching his way forward on his stomach, he avoided the back door to the home and kept creeping around the side of the house without making a sound.

  Only when he reached the garage door did he check to see if Adah was still behind him. He pointed to a doggy door and made a waving motion with his hand. Like a snake, he pushed the dog’s entry open and slithered into the garage. Adah crawled in behind him.

  Walking on his knees, Matt crept across the empty garage and up to the back door. He waited a moment, but heard nothing. Very slowly, he opened the door that led into the kitchen. On his hands and knees, he inched forward but didn’t hear a sound.

  “Mary came walking across the backyard like an elephant marching into a circus,” Matt whispered in Adah’s ear. “She also tried to enter the back door, where a camera was undoubtedly aimed. We missed those traps. So far so good.”

  Without saying more, he quickly crawled down the hall and up the stairs that led to his father’s office. At the top of the steps, Matt stopped and looked around. Everything was just as they left it. Last year’s Christmas decorations were still up, and brightly colored baubbles still hung on the dried pine tree downstairs. Only a few months ago, this was their home, the center of their lives, and now . . . Well, now they were crawling around in the dark like rats on the prowl.

  Silently, with Adah behind him, Matt slipped into his father’s office. As his father had warned him, Bridges’ men had already rifled through his files and slung papers everywhere. The office had been thoroughly ransacked, and looked like a train had torn through the walls.

  “Is it in here?” Adah whispered.

  Matt shook his head. “I certainly hope so! Bridges’ boys obviously tore the files apart. Let’s see what I can find.”

  He carefully pulled the top drawer out of his father’s desk. Someone had already gone through the contents, but Matt dumped the few remaining items on the floor. Taking a small flashlight from his pocket, Matt held it in his teeth while he examined the bottom of the drawer. As his father had instructed him, he could feel small pins along the edge of the sides. Quickly removing them, he lifted out the false bottom.

  “Ah!” he gasped. “Here it is! The file marked ‘Identification.’”

  “We’ve got it!” Adah said.

  “Let’s get out of here—just like we came in and with just as much care.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Matt started crawling out of the room but stopped. He noticed something. On the bottom shelf of a bookcase was an object he’d missed seeing when coming in. It looked like a camera lens. He darted across the room and yanked it away from the shelf.

  “Oh! It’s only a small video camera our family used a long time ago. Actually it can also be used as a projector. I thought it was a security device.”

  “Let’s go,” Adah urged.

  “Okay.” Matt started to put the camera down. “No, wait a minute. We might use the camera. We’ll take it with us.”

  “Whatever. Let’s move.”

  Without making a sound, Matt and Adah crawled out of the office and started down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 53

  ONCE MATT AND ADAH returned to their motel, they slept until nearly noon the next day. When Matt finally awoke, he felt groggy and exhausted. Midnight romps through his old neighborhood were not his style. It took him several minutes to become fully alert. Adah slept soundly on the other bed.

  Matt sat down at the small table in the corner and carefully examined his father’s file. Inside he found the basic documents used to create his father’s identification tag that Graham used inside the Cook County Jail. Underneath lay a similar tag for his former secretary Sarah Cates to wear when she’d had to enter the prison. Every detail was as his father had told him it would be.

  “What are you studying?” Adah sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “We’ve found the forms we’re going to alter,” Matt explained. “These ID certificates are our ticket back inside the jail.”

  “How so?” Adah crawled off the bed and straightened her black clothing. “I don’t understand.”

  “The names on these ID tags are for my father and his secretary. We’re going to change them. They will be for Al Meachem and Bridges’ secretary, Connie Reeves. Virtually no one’s seen either one of them around Chicago in public.”

  Adah frowned. “I’m still not sure that I quite understand.”

  “You are going to become Connie Reeves, and I’ll be good ol’ Al Meachem.”

  “Oh!”

  “We’ve got to change the names and get the IDs in plastic covers,” Matt explained. “Once we’ve got this job done well, we’re about 90 percent there.”

  “We have something else to do?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to shave off the beard, but leave a mustache. We need some new clothes. The teenage rocker look has to go. We’ve got to have an adult semiprofessional appearance. We’ll also need to pick up some simple chemicals. Once we’ve got the supplies, we’re ready to return.”

  “How will we get back in?” Adah sat down at the table opposite Matt.

  “We’re going to take a service personnel entrance where employees enter the jail. Once inside, we’ll request to see Mary and Nancy Marks in the room where attorneys talk to their clients. My father’s ID gives us great latitude.”

  Adah nodded. “And what chemicals do we have to pick up?”

  “Several different kinds. Ever hear of thermite?”

  “No.”

  Matt grinned. “It will eat the socks right off your feet, and finish off your toes next. You’re going to be extremely surprised to watch my little friend Mr. Thermite go to work.”

  CHAPTER 54

  WHILE MATTHEW PECK and Adah Honi finished picking up clothing and the chemicals they needed, unexpected events were rapidly occurring in the international scene. With no previous warning, Hassan Jawhar Rashid announced he intended to speak to the United Nations General Assembly. Because his earlier speech had been canceled due to the assassination attempt, he demanded immediate access to the podium.

  Rashid pushed hard, catching everyone off guard, including Frank Bridges and his Chicago staff. Because of the chaos sweeping across every continent, Secretary General Anjem Choudray cleared the calendar and gave Rashid access to speak that afternoon. Television cameramen raced to the scene.

  Frank Bridges remained in his office with Al Meachem and Connie Reeves to watch television’s “big show.” Bridges kept chewing at his fingernails ner-vously.

  “What’s he going to say, boss . . . I mean, Your Honor?” Meachem asked.

  “I don’t know. Anything is possible.”

  “Let me fix you a drink,” Connie said. “It makes you less nervous.”

  “Okay,” Frank said, “and make sure we don’t get any phone calls. I don’t want any interruptions during this speech.”

  “Sure thing, honey.” Connie picked up the phone and notified the switchboard to hold all calls until further notification.

  Bridges plopped down in his large leather chair. “I’m concerned he’s going to blast the world and start
another backlash. The entire planet is teetering on the edge as it is. We don’t need an attack that will destroy all remaining stability.”

  “Drink this.” Connie handed Frank a stiff whiskey and water.

  “Are your people poised to handle any problems that might erupt in the streets?” Bridges asked Meachem.

  “I have to tell you that most people are simply trying to survive. Food’s been scarce since that volcano cut loose. I don’t think the rank and file care what Rashid says as long as he promises them more bread.”

  Bridges took a drink of whiskey and water. “You’re right.”

  For thirty minutes, the threesome watched, waiting for Rashid to appear. Political commentators droned on in endless speculation about what he would say. Eventually Rashid entered the United Nations chamber. The delegations rose and gave him enthusiastic applause.

  Rashid proved to be in excellent form. Beginning with a casualness contrived to indicate a close personal relationship with Secretary General Choudray, as well as the other delegates seated around the vast chamber, he described in detail his hopes of an immediate agreement with Israel that would bring peace to the Middle East. Delegates applauded, and a sense of well-being emanated from the General Assembly.

  “I have a specific request for you, my friends,” Rashid continued. “As my armed forces have increased around the world, our new military presence has changed the world posture. This new status has imparted to me the new title of Supreme Commander in Chief. In order to achieve a world order of peace and harmony, I request that the United Nations change its charter.” His voice shifted and took on a hard, demanding sound. “I ask that you eliminate the current Security Council and replace it with my European Union.”

  Silence fell over the room. Delegates looked at each other in stunned silence as if they didn’t hear correctly. The idea sounded crazy, bizarre, and sure to create harsh confrontations.

  “As you are aware, the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces are completely unequal to my army. In order to make the world a genuinely peaceful place for all peoples, you must recognize the priority of my troops. I will expect immediate response.”

  From some corner of the chambers, a delegate shouted a resounding “No!” Other voices joined in.

  Commotion broke out across the hall. Rashid stopped and stared at the uproar as if he didn’t seem to care, but was surprised. The noise increased.

  “Good Lord!” Bridges gasped. “He’s set off a bomb at the United Nations. This response is worse than I expected.”

  Meachem pinched his bottom lip. “They ain’t going to buy that idea,” he said slowly.

  “But he’s exposed the weakness of the UN,” Connie said. “He’s thrown the whole assembly off.”

  “I’m not sure what his purpose is, but he’s gutted the authority of the international body,” Bridges said.

  Rashid continued talking, and the uproar slowly died out. While he maintained the gentle tone of which he was a master, it was clear there was nothing subtle about his intentions. Like Adolf Hitler taking Poland and moving on to absorb the rest of Europe, Hassan Jawhar Rashid had made it clear that he had elevated himself into a world dictator.

  “Keep the phones turned off,” Bridges snapped. “We’ve got to reflect on what we’ve just heard. Connie, set up a conference call with Creighton Lewis and Rashid’s top generals. I want to know what’s happening out there.”

  CHAPTER 55

  IN THE LATE AFTERNOON, Matthew Peck and Adah Honi walked through the service entrance of the Cook County Jail without any problems. The hustle and bustle of the day’s business had passed, and everyone was preoccupied with what had occurred earlier in the day at the United Nations.

  Wearing a dark brown pullover shirt and lightweight brown pants, Matt flashed his plastic ID card, and the guard passed it under the security light with no problem. Adah had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and changed into a casual but attractive blue blouse. The guard seemed so taken with her that he hardly paid attention to the scan. The officer said nothing about the large briefcases Matt and Adah were carrying.

  “Please send two prisoners down to the attorneys’ interview room on the second floor,” Matt said in a highly professional manner. “As soon as possible, I want to talk with a Mary Peck, and . . . let’s see . . .” He flipped through a notebook as if reminding himself of the name. “Oh yes, her name is Nancy Marks.”

  The officer nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll have ’em sent down immediately.”

  “Thank you, Officer.” Matt smiled and kept walking with the briefcase dangling at his side. “I’ll remember your name.”

  Taking the fire exit staircase, Matt and Adah climbed to the second floor. Matt stopped and made sure no security cameras were aimed at them. The staircase was nothing but unadorned cement.

  “Let’s review our plan,” Matt said. “Once I get inside the interview room, I will immediately pour the thermite on the floor. It will take a few minutes for it to eat through, but I guarantee you it will devour tile, cement, brick—everything! There’s a space between the first and second floors where all the wiring and heat ducts run. That’s our way out of this joint.”

  “I understand.” Adah looked up the narrow stairway. “You want me on the fourth floor just outside the entry door.”

  “Exactly. I put a couple of cigarettes in there. To kill time, act like you’re standing out in this stairway smoking. In your briefcase are materials used in race car fuel and amateur rocket experiments. It’s an assortment of stuff like nitromethane, nitrophane, hydrazine percholorate, and methyl nitrate, ready to be laced together with a large amount of sodium nitrate you will pour in at the last minute. Remember, once that stuff is ignited, it may well blow the door off the wall, but it will certainly fill this staircase with billowing smoke. The explosion will go in every direction.”

  Adah nodded her head soberly. “I realize this is dangerous.”

  “You bet. You’ve got to get out of there quickly, but give me ten minutes to burn through the floor before you set off the electronic detonating device. Timing is everything.”

  Adah bit her lip. “I will do my best.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Matt watched her continue on up the stairs. “Remember. If we get separated, don’t try to look for me. Run!”

  Matt opened the exit door and walked down the hall. He entered the interview room door only to find a cop with Nancy Marks and his sister.

  “Oh, hello, Mr. Meachem,” the policeman said. “We got these people down here as quickly as we could.”

  “Thank you for your speed, Officer. I’ll take it from here.”

  “You bet.” The cop saluted informally and walked out the back door.

  Mary stared at her brother, almost unable to speak. Nancy Marks obviously couldn’t figure out what was going on. Matt placed the briefcase on the table and opened it quickly. He pulled out a large can of thermite.

  “Ladies, don’t move,” he said. “It’ll take about ten minutes, but I’m going to cut a hole in this floor and then we’re all flying the coop.”

  CHAPTER 56

  IN THE COOK COUNTY JAIL’S central security offices, a guard making a secondary check of anyone entering with special identification credentials noticed a red light blinking on the computer. He pushed a button and waited for the sheet to print out.

  “How strange.” The policeman read the numbers a second time. “It doesn’t match.” Several moments passed and a second printout came out of the machine. “This one doesn’t fit either.” He reached for the phone. “Give me John Peters on the entry desk for service personnel,” he told the operator.

  “Peters here.”

  “This is Smith up in central security. Did you take an ID for a man named Graham Peck about five minutes ago?”

  “No,” Peters said. “Haven’t had anybody by that name come through all day.”

  Smith looked at the printout a third time. “Something’s not adding up here. The ID numbers m
atch a man in the mayor’s office named Graham Peck, and there’s a second one for a woman named Sarah Cates.”

  “Graham Peck!” John Peters said. “Wait a minute. Now, that name rings a bell. That’s the guy we’ve been trying to catch. Remember? His daughter is in here. She’s a . . . Mary Peck . . . I believe.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. Five minutes ago I had a young attorney come in with a woman named Connie Reeves asking for Mary Peck.”

  “What was his name?”

  “I believe . . . it was . . . Al Meachem.”

  “Meachem?” Smith thought for a minute. “There’s an Al Meachem that’s a big dog with the mayor. Must be some kind of mix-up with these name tags. Meachem is an important man. I’ll check with the mayor’s office.”

  “Sure,” Peters said. “Let me know if there’s a problem.” He hung up.

  Smith quickly dialed the number on his confidential security sheet.

  “City of Chicago,” the operator said. “Mayor’s offices.”

  “This is Officer Smith in the Cook County Jail. I have an important call for the mayor.”

  “I’m sorry,” the operator said. “All calls are being suspended for the moment. Leave your number, and I’ll put it through when the line opens.”

  “Look, lady! This is a top-level security matter. Put me through.”

  “Sorry.” The operator hung up.

  CHAPTER 57

  MATTHEW PECK poured thermite on the prison floor in a two-foot-wide circle. Instantly steam bubbled up from the tile, and an acrid smell drifted across the room intertwined with the smoke. He walked around the circle a second time, pouring more of the chemical into the channels forming in the tiles.

  “You don’t know who I am,” he told Nancy Marks, “and for the moment it’s better that you don’t. I’ve come to get you and Mary out of this jail.”