“What’s that?”
“Integrity.”
“Boy, does he have you pegged. By the way, where will you be during the questioning?”
“Watching from a box seat at the guard station nearby while it all plays out on the video. I’ll move in if it’s appropriate. We’ll just have to play it by ear.” Noble was confident Max was onboard. “You can do this!” he punctuated encouragingly.
“I’ll give it my all. We’ll see how the scorpion deals with this woman!” For the first time, Max appeared excited and up for the challenge.
Noble expected no less. “Now, I want to begin the second round of questioning with Simon at six a.m. sharp, before he has an opportunity to get his morning coffee. More important, before the president’s envoys arrive to monitor our interview.”
“I still don’t get it. Why are they coming here?”
“Don’t try. It’s purely political.”
“Who’s Post sending?”
“All I know is that there are three senators from the Intelligence Committee.”
Max rolled her eyes and then confirmed, “The Colonel won’t be happy with me calling at midnight, but I’ll ask him to arrange to have a helicopter transport me to the prison at five thirty. Will you alert the warden so he won’t think the prison is under siege or, worse yet, that there is a prison break?”
“I’ll make a midnight call as well and ask the warden to block off the south end of the parking lot. You can land there, and then meet me in front of the guard tower. Now, call the Colonel and then get some sleep. And, Max, thanks for your support. I knew I could count on you.”
“Thanks, Noble. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Max.”
33
SLEIGHT OF HAND
The aroma emanating from the freshly brewed coffee caught up with Noble as he pulled aside the shower curtain. He dried off, made his way to the mini bar, and poured himself a cup of java. The shower was refreshing but, after a restless night, he needed a caffeine rush even more than usual. Sipping on his coffee, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read 4:45 a.m. He instinctively reached for his xPhad and checked for messages, hoping Max had discovered something that would help them in their second round with Simon. There was none. Evidently, she had nothing new to report, or, perhaps, she was waiting to spring it on him when they reconvened. Noting the time once again, Noble hurriedly dressed and gulped the remainder of his coffee. He placed the charts and graphs he had printed into his briefcase. And, although he didn’t fully understand their meaning, he had a sense they might become useful during the interview. He left the hotel and headed to his car.
The prison was only nine minutes from the Ramada Inn, a straight shot down Route 15. By his calculation, he should pull in just as Max’s helicopter was setting down. He was now five minutes away. There was hardly any traffic at that time of the morning. He was enjoying the solitude but, while his eyes focused steadily on the road, his mind was busily compartmentalizing an abundance of false information Max would feed Simon. If Max should fail in her interrogation, unable to uncover any new leads, then he’d have to take another pass at Simon. He’d have to be even more convincing than during his first foray.
While he attempted to gather his thoughts, an eerie sound in the distance became a distraction. As he neared the prison, the sound became appreciably louder. Suddenly, he realized it was actually an alarm of some sort. When he turned onto Bitterbrush Lane, the sound became piercing. Immediately, he became concerned as he sped into the parking lot, veering his car into an empty space nearest the guard tower. The commanding alarm was clearly from the prison, and obliterated the whirling sound from the sky. Despite the noise, Noble noticed the helicopter had arrived precisely on time. He snatched his briefcase and headed for the heavily guarded gate where he met up with Max.
“What’s happening?” he shouted to the guard over the earsplitting sound.
“A prisoner escaped, and we’re in lockdown,” he yelled back.
“Who escaped?” Max cried out with dread.
“I don’t know his name. Just that he was in Supermax. What I do know is that he’s one clever son-of-a-bitch,” he hollered as he shook his head in disbelief. The alarm finally quieted while the guard was in mid-sentence, but he continued to shout, making his facial features seem distorted.
Noting the look on their faces, the guard apologized, “Sorry, Director Bishop, sorry, ma’am. The warden is expecting you. Here are your visitors’ passes. This officer will take you to his office.”
Noble grabbed the badges and handed one to Max as he hollered back, “Thanks.” Then, they closely followed behind the heels of the officer and stepped into a golf cart for transit. It was a five-minute drive across the prison quad to the warden’s office.
“It’s not possible,” Noble whispered to Max.
Max knew she would have little time before reaching the warden, so she spoke quickly. “Noble, after we spoke last night, I couldn’t sleep. I reviewed the manuals and organization charts repeatedly. Your theory is proving correct. He is targeting the governments, but each plan appears to be in two phases.”
Noble looked at her directly, urging her to continue.
“For instance, phase one was to place Baari in office, allowing him access to the treasury and hoards of cash. Phase two appears to have something to do with disrupting or controlling our energy supply. If he had completed the final phase of his plan, it appears Simon would have also tried to implement similar plots in Europe.”
“Slow down, Max. Are you sure?”
“No, we need more time,” she insisted, then added, “But it all fits.” Max suggested that she and Noble go in together, and that he first lay out their theory. “If Simon takes the bait, I can always jump in with how you had his number-the-whole-time tactic.”
“No, Max. We go as planned.” Before Noble had a chance to elaborate, the golf cart came to an abrupt halt. The warden had been alerted, and was standing at attention in the doorway waiting to meet them. From the expression on the warden’s face, Noble and Max surmised, instantly, that their worst fears had been realized.
“al-Fadl has escaped,” the warden stated balefully.
“But he’s somewhere in the prison, right?” Max implored.
The warden took a deep breath, reluctant to respond. “We just finished reviewing the video. He just casually strolled out of this damn place.”
“Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry, Director. We’ve been rather busy the last few hours.” Not meaning to seem surly, he added, “Don’t worry. We’ll nail him. I’ve put out an all-points bulletin, and I have the highway patrol setting up roadblocks on every road leading out of here. The state and local authorities are plastering his face everywhere—train stations, bus stations, airports, hotels, and motels. We might have wide-open spaces in Utah, but there aren’t many passable roads throughout the state. There are few places for him to hide,” he explained, with confidence.
“You don’t know him! Trust me. He’s gone.” Noble raised his hand to silence the warden from further swagger as he placed an urgent call to Colonel Evans. Continuing to stare unswervingly at Warden Lowell, he announced, “Colonel, al-Fadl has escaped. Reassign the National Guard at Draper to assist the state police in the hunt. He must not be allowed to leave the state!” It was glaringly evident that Noble had directed that comment to the warden as well. “Colonel, you have my authority to transmit al-Fadl’s photo to all cell phones in Utah and the bordering states. Message only that he is an escaped prisoner considered armed and dangerous. Set up a hotline number for anyone sighting him to call.” It was clear from the Colonel’s responses that Noble had his full support. “Thank you, Colonel. Let me know the moment he’s spotted.”
“Now, I want to see the video!” Noble demanded as he replaced his xPhad in his pocket.
The warden seemed perturbed, sensing rightly that Noble had usurped his authority. Choosing to stave off further acc
usations, he simply said, “Please,” as he gestured Noble and Max to enter his conference room.
Noble looked up at the large monitor on the wall and stated evenly, “Show me what you have.”
Max stayed out of the fray and fixated on the screen.
As the warden rewound the video, he explained curtly, “As you know, the prisoner was escorted back to his cell at 6:30 p.m., after your interrogation. At seven o’clock, he was served dinner and, at eight o’clock, it was lights out.” The warden hit the Pause button.
Noble could plainly see Simon sitting on his bed with his back resting against the wall. He appeared to be picking at the food on the serving tray. The warden fast-forwarded to eight o’clock when Simon was then lying down on the top of his bedcovers. It was lights out, but a partial glow from the revolving search light on the guard tower penetrated the small window at the top of his cell.
“I’ve been through this tape and nothing else happened until four o’clock this morning,” the warden pointed out. He then fast-forwarded the tape again until Noble could view Simon standing in front of a large steel door. Magically, the door swung open to his left, and he walked through. “The only way to open that door is with a retina scan. Only our guards can pass the security barrier using the scan.”
“Then how is it possible Simon passed the barrier?” Max, no longer able to stand back, was incredulous.
“I was hoping you two would be able to answer that. There’s more. Hold on.”
They continued to watch the tape and noted that no one was seated at the guard station on the other side of the door.
“Why isn’t there a guard on duty?” Noble’s irritation had not waned.
The warden paused the tape and explained that the guards relieve each other after every eight-hour shift. “During the changeover, they meet in their nearby lounge to fill each other in on what’s been happening. It’s Supermax, and the prisoners aren’t expected to go anywhere.” As the words left the warden’s mouth, his face began to flush in several shades of red.
Noble didn’t find it necessary to antagonize further.
Max also worked extra hard to hold her tongue.
The warden evaded eye contact and hit the Play button. On the monitor, each of them watched the video as Simon walked through a series of gates and then walked directly out of the prison. He slithered by the guard tower and ducked behind several cars as the revolving search light headed in his direction.
Simon had simply vanished.
“Rewind the tape slowly!” Noble called out.
The warden readily complied.
“Stop right there! Zoom in on his left hand.” Noble watched carefully as Simon’s hand appeared larger and larger on the screen. “Can you get in any closer?”
As the warden adjusted the zoom, he heard Noble shout, “What in the hell!”
“What do you see?”
“It’s partially hidden by his sleeve, but Simon is holding something in his left hand.”
“What is it?” The warden shouted in return, still mystified.
Noble snapped, “An xPhad!”
Both the warden and Max turned around abruptly toward Noble.
“You might say it was a sleight of hand.” Noble winced as he held up his own xPhad.
They were stunned as they turned to stare back at the screen.
“Continue to rewind slowly,” Noble requested again.
The only view on the rest of the tape, other than Simon lying on top of his bedcovers, was Simon lying under his bedcovers apparently asleep. In a few of the frames, the revolving search light from the guard tower outside illuminated the room but, for the most part, the screen was black.
“Stop!” Noble shouted. “Look at the room. It’s in total darkness, but there is a small beam of light emanating from under his blanket. Can you see it? Zoom in.”
The only illumination in the tiny cell was from the tablet he was hiding under his bedcover.
“So, he was using the xPhad to program his escape right from his cell,” Max bellowed.
“I personally saw him in that cell at six thirty. His food was delivered through the cuff hole at seven. And you are telling me he used a computer to walk out of his cell at precisely four o’clock this morning?” the warden questioned, completely bewildered.
Throwing it back at the warden, Noble elaborated. “Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. I suspect he used it to download a photo of his retina and then used it to replace a guard’s retina photo in the prison’s employee database.”
“You’re saying he hacked into the Utah State Penitentiary’s computer system? Damned clever—a retinal switch!” The warden was beside himself, still not comprehending the extent of al-Fadl’s capabilities.
“He’s notorious for hacking into systems, all kinds of systems. What I want to know is how he got his hands on a computer. Who slipped him the xPhad?” Noble demanded in a pointed manner.
“I vouch for my men. They are personally selected by me to work in Supermax,” the warden pushed back.
“Then how did it happen?” Max pressed.
At that point, an officer entered the conference room. “Excuse me warden, but this envelope was found at the guard’s station in Supermax,” the officer explained, realizing he had interrupted a heated discussion. Somewhat shaken, he stammered, “It’s addressed to Director Bishop.”
“Well, hand it to him!” The warden’s directness only added to the officer’s discomfort.
Noble reached for the envelope and, with trepidation, he opened it. He knew it was from Simon.
As he opened the flap, he could hear the warden quiz the officer, “Where, specifically, did you find the envelope?”
“Sir, it was in the visitor’s logbook,” he responded nervously.
“Bring the logbook to me now!” the warden commanded, and then asked, “Wait, whose shift did you take over?”
“It was Murphy’s sir.”
“Get him here too, both in my office immediately.”
The warden refocused on Noble and noticed an uncomfortable look on his face, leading him to ask with concern, “Are you all right, Director?”
Noble looked toward the warden and attempted to seem nonplussed. “Let’s wait for the logbook.” He offered no further explanation and the warden didn’t ask for one.
Max also knew from experience not to inquire further at that point.
During the next five minutes, as they waited together, Max reviewed the video for a second time, with the warden managing the remote control.
Noble stood off to the side, disregarding the video, as he studied the piece of paper in his hand. The creased lines from the folds were prominent against the aged yellowed background with one edge tattered. Noble shook his head in disbelief as he studied the blueprint of the Presidential Lair that Hank had stolen from the President’s Book of Secrets. While it seemed to him that he had been staring at the blueprint for hours, it was only minutes. He glanced up when Officer Murphy appeared in the doorway of the warden’s conference room with the visitor’s logbook in hand.
“Sir, you requested this.” He handed the book to the warden.
The warden opened the book to the sign-in sheet for the previous day. He spotted Noble’s signature and, written next to his signature, was the sign-in time, 11:00 a.m., and the sign-out time, 6:30 p.m. Under Noble’s signature was the name, Mohammed al-Fadl, Level 1, Cell 6. Abruptly, the warden glared in Murphy’s direction and stated sternly, “You escorted the prisoner to the interrogation room at nine o’clock last night.” As he raised his voice perceptibly, he continued, “That prisoner was not authorized to receive any visitors, other than Director Bishop. Did you not get my order?”
Noble’s mind was multi-processing furiously.
Max’s heart raced as she focused on the monitor and again watched Simon stroll out of the prison.
Officer Murphy was visibly shaken as the warden stood with his face placed in close proximity to the officer’s.
; “Sir, no one argues with a senator, especially a special envoy sent here on the president’s orders,” he explained. He knew his words seemed sarcastic and waited for the onslaught.
Without hesitation, the warden surprisingly toned down his rhetoric. “Did you at least conduct the appropriate search procedures?”
Still uncomfortable, he responded, “No, sir,” as he held his head low.
“What!” the warden shrieked.
“Sir, a presidential envoy has an implied security clearance and…” he stammered, “the envoy was a woman.”
As the warden glanced at the signature in the logbook next to 9:00 p.m., he heard Murphy say, “Sir, it was Senator Maryann Townsend.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Special thanks go to my inner circle of readers for agreeing to critique my novel. I’m eternally grateful to Alfredo Vedro, Ann Howells, David E., Maestro Debra Cheverino, Donna Post, and Ray Fernandez who diligently read and offered suggestions. They more than fulfilled their promise to provide honest feedback.
I offer my deep appreciation to my publisher, David Dunham, for his enormous support and the confidence he has shown in my abilities as a writer and storyteller.
Lastly, I can’t thank enough all my family and friends, near and far and too numerous to list, who continually cheered me on throughout this journey. Their support was inspiring.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sally Fernandez’ career background includes project management, business planning, and technology, with additional experience in technical and business writing. Her books of fiction are based on knowledge garnered from careers in banking, computer technology, and business consulting, while living in New York City, San Francisco, and Hong Kong.
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