Paul decides to drop it. "I'm going to take a shower. Any ideas on breakfast?"
"We can't exactly saunter into any of the nearby cafes together, so I guess I'll fix something here. Scrambled eggs, wheat toast, jelly?"
Paul nods in agreement and heads to the bathroom.
As the hot water pelts him, he thinks about his plan, and his upcoming meeting with Ty Ryan, the private investigator. He couldn’t hire Angie now even if she was willing to make the move. Her access inside Andy Michaels' firm may prove instrumental in the near future. He just has to make sure she doesn't figure out his true intentions.
Chapter 4
Newseum
"The press is on this like white on rice," Franklin whispers to Ty Ryan. They're both looking at interactive news stories about the Kennedy assassination on the third floor of the Newseum, one of the newer museums in D.C.
"Biggest story to hit this city in months.”
"Any luck obtaining the info on the plaintiffs?"
Before contacting Ryan, the investigator who obtained some critical information for him during the plane crash cases, Franklin riffled through many of the litigation files himself. He was trying to find someone who would challenge the wrongful death settlements based on a new fraud or conspiracy claim. No rational family member would join a lawsuit that might force them to give their settlement money back, so his pitch would promise the safekeeping of their original proceeds. However, if the U.S. conspired with another person or company to secretly snuff out a search for the truth, that could violate the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act, which can carry both criminal and civil penalties.
Franklin’s first target was Andy Michaels’ law firm. Could he tie them to the government in a conspiracy of silence and deception? After his file review, Franklin hand-picked five of the settling plaintiffs by their white-collar occupations and his intuition as those who might be interested in suing. Then he hired Ryan to do deeper background work on each of them.
"Let's go to the men's room for the transfer." Ryan starts walking, trailed a short interval later by Franklin. They silently exchange envelopes in the restroom and file back out, heading in different directions before meeting again in another hall.
"You need to decide who you think would be the best to approach." Ryan says, walking slowly toward another alcove.
"I think for ethical purposes I should write a letter."
"Your call, but I wouldn't. What if they give it to Michaels?"
"True, but they can tell him if I show up in person too. I'll think it over. Any chance of you planting a bug in Michaels' office for me?"
"I told you I don't do B and E. There may be another way though."
"What's your idea?"
With a few steps between them, Ryan and Franklin wander through the museum. Both look at the next sequence of historical newspaper pages on the wall. "One Small Step for Mankind," the headlines declare.
"Another person with access to the office could do it. His paralegal might even do it," Ryan whispers.
Angie. Could I plant something on her without her knowing? Franklin quickly nixes that concept. Maybe Angie would do it for me?
"I'm already inside her," he replies, turning to Ryan with a smile.
"You're messing around with her?"
"I thought you knew everything.”
"No, only what I need to, and that's something I never had a reason to know."
"Have your sources given you any further information on why the government paid the airline?" Franklin asks.
"Not yet, but I'm sure they will. I’m thinking to end any further investigation into sabotage, but I haven't figured out who or why."
"Did you figure out who detained you after the Hemispheres crash and returned you to the Department of Justice?"
"My money’s on China."
“Unrelated question, but not entirely off topic. Why’d you leave the SEALs?" Franklin pries, now walking beside Ryan back down the JFK assassination hallway.
“What, are you my shrink now?”
“No, I just wondered. I read a lot about the SEAL team that got Bin Laden.” This is a complete lie—Franklin is still determining Ryan’s loyalties. After all, this plan of his must remain airtight.
Ryan doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, trying the attorney’s patience. “Too many funerals. So, I walked while still mostly intact. My emotional bandwidth is pretty narrow, not like yours or any other person in this museum."
"How about a pension?”
"I had to fight to get five years of veterans’ benefits. I fell several years short of a full pension. Why do you think I do this investigative work for you?”
"Makes sense I guess," Franklins says, thinking that needing the cash is a solid reason, so long as cash won’t make Ryan go astray if the chips are down.
"When I open my closet door,” Ryan says, “there are clothes inside, but sometimes instead I see this teenage kid I trained my weapon on, decided to save him, and then...." Ryan flings his arms from his waist upward near both sides of Franklin's head. "Ka-pow! He detonated a suicide vest, blew me back against the opposite wall. Damn glad for my body armor, full helmet and all. We would kill high-value targets every night when we rampaged Iraq. Abbottabad, Al Asad, Ramadi, Baghdad, so many cities I can’t remember ‘em all. Killing only five or six meant a wasted night. The so-called 'surge' succeeded because of us, but when you look back, what did we accomplish? Neither side wants our asses in their business, we didn't consider we’re just infidels. We had jobs to do, and we thought we were liberating Iraq."
“After your captives released you to the DOJ, did the U.S. compensate you?”
“Yeah. They gave me $50,000 and made me sign confidentiality papers. Whoever held me was certain I was FBI counter-intelligence, they wouldn’t believe a word I said otherwise. Do you have any idea what it's like to be treated like a political prisoner, never being told what you did wrong or ever having a trial? The first day I figured they’d kill me, but when I found myself still breathing on day two I realized they were using me as some kind of bargaining chip. Now I want to know why."
"So that’s why you’re helping me?"
"Yep, I want to see where all this is going. And I can use the cash, of course."
"Get me a bug, and I'll work on Angie."
"Roger." The investigator walks away. His financial outlook is brighter for the next calendar year, and discovering why Hemispheres was paid $200 million by the U.S. will be an added bonus.
Chapter 5
Videoconference
After the video conference is arranged, Solarez insists Amanda travel in an unmarked vehicle to FBI headquarters, given the recent leaks and subsequent media frenzy.
He meets her at the security desk and escorts her to the elevator after she is screened. As the door closes, she starts questioning him.
"How many months will this go on? Wait, it isn't going to be more than months, is it?"
"Can’t say. It’s out of my control."
"I thought everything about this was under your control."
“Hardly. I'm a supervisory agent, the director decides on things like this, not me."
They arrive on their desired floor, the door opens, and they proceed to the room where she's done prior video conferences with her dad, Ron Michaels.
"I don't want you in here," she tells him as she enters.
"I have to connect you, sorry." He follows her into the non-descript room with white walls, a table with a couple chairs, a flat-screen TV and a desktop computer. Tapping a few keys, he makes the connection and a room can be seen on the TV. As he leaves, he gives her the same instruction as before. “Tell the agent in the hall when you’re done and she'll come get me."
The door closes behind Solarez and Ron walks onto the screen. Behind him she glimpses her little brother, Justin, and his nanny, Mrs. Kolfax. Amanda lets go of everything troubling her and feels truly happy.
"Hi Dad! So great to see
you again!"
"You too! How’s everything going? How’s Crossroads?"
"Good. We’ve added a few new patients.”
Her dad turns to the side and picks up Justin, who is holding a small panda toy. Looking curiously toward the monitor, he sees Amanda but doesn’t recognize her.
"Hi Justin! Remember me? I’m your sister, Amanda. What do you have there?"
He moves the stuffed bear up and down.
"Can you say hello?" Ron asks, bouncing him gently on his knee.
"Ba-ba. Ba-da.”
"What words has he been saying?"
"We think maybe dad or dada, hard telling."
Justin bangs the toy on the table, then sticks it in his mouth.
"Do you have any other animals, Justin?”
Ron answers for his son. "Oh he's got all kinds of little critters, and some Disney characters. He's creating a virtual animal playground."
"So how are you dealing with him walking now?"
"We’ve baby-proofed everything—drawers, cupboards, toilets, you name it. Can’t open a thing without releasing some sort of lock. He keeps Mrs. Kolfax busy, especially since I'm spending a lot of time in the lab."
"How's that going? Are you making progress?”
"Oh, always."
Amanda doesn’t pry.
“I want to get clearance to go off property to a parade in Annapolis. I hope it will be approved.
“Justin would get to see his first parade!”
“Yeah, we shall see.” On the screen, Mrs. Kolfax walks over with a couple other small animals, a brown pony with a frizzy mane and a pink pig. Justin momentarily turns his attention to the pony, then goes back to the panda. Must be his favorite, Amanda thinks, at least for today.
“I wonder if they’ll ever let me visit you guys in person.”
"I wish I knew."
"I'm going to meet David after this. He's interning in this building."
"Really? I didn’t know he was interested in FBI work."
"Me either. He hasn’t finished school yet, so he’s just here for the summer. I'm going to ask Solarez if I can tell him about you and Justin."
"Follow whatever instructions they give you. They may not seem fair to you, but they're for our safety."
"Did you hear the plane crash is back in the news?”
"No, what for? Wait a sec.” Ron asks Mrs. Kolfax if she can take Justin to the next room, due to some personal things he needs to discuss with Amanda. Once she leaves the area, he turns back to the video cam.
"I kinda figured you hadn’t heard,” Amanda says. “Something about the government paying a lot of money to Hemispheres."
Her dad looks concerned. "Sounds like trouble."
“Solarez assigned agents to cover me 24/7. Not as bad as your situation, but he wants them on me wherever I go, which is pretty suffocating."
“Are you taking the pills every day?”
“Yep, unless I forget. Why can’t I take them once a week or something?”
“Because, by lengthening your telomeres, you are more susceptible to other side effects, like reduced immunities, and I’m not sure what else. That’s why. I check your cells every time I receive the vials of your blood here at the lab, and your telomeres are super long, like those of a five-year-old, but there are so many things we don’t know yet.”
“Fine. But will I age normally? I mean, I wonder about it when I look in the mirror most days, whether I’m aging like any other college kid is.”
“Hopefully you’ll live longer, so I guess that means you may age differently, maybe more gracefully. All the animal testing points to extended life, but I can’t predict how that will play out for humans. There are lots of question marks, which we’re working on now.”
“That’s not too reassuring since you didn’t really answer me. It stresses me out.”
“I’m sorry, but we have no scientific data to tell us what to expect. It never affected me so I don’t know—”
“You transfused me for a lot longer though. I still feel, uh, I mean I know you transfused me to help me, but you didn’t really know enough—”
“I knew it didn’t have any adverse effects on me.”
They visit for a few more minutes on confidential matters, trying to catch up on everything they can. Amanda then asks to say goodbye to Justin, who soon becomes agitated, and they end their teleconference on a downbeat. With some disappointment, Amanda exits the room and asks the woman posted outside to tell Solarez she’s done.
"Agent Solarez, I want to tell David Owlsley my dad's alive. I don’t know how it would be a problem, especially with the security clearance he needed to work here for the FBI this summer.”
"I recently realized the same thing, so I had a brief meeting with him this morning and told him the truth."
"Wow, that was way easier than I thought it would be. I’m so used to you saying no."
"What I told David was very limited. He knows your father wasn’t on the jet and about him being under witness protection, but not about the ongoing telomere research. And it needs to stay that way. Deal?"
"So I can say I've been in contact with my dad but nothing about what he’s doing?"
“Right. Nothing about his research or his location."
"You’ve never told me his location."
"Well, consider it one less secret for you to keep. You’re welcome."
Chapter 6
FBI Visit
The FBI cafeteria reminds David of a high school lunch room—the painted cinder-block walls, standard rectangular tables with fixed benches, and ubiquitous plastic trays. At least they aren’t the same color. He spots Amanda, wearing a pair of faded jeans, a light tan button-down shirt and a black blazer with a visitor badge clipped on the lapel.
The moment they find an empty table, Amanda blurts out, “They told you my dad is alive. You understand I didn’t know any of that when we went searching in New York.”
“Yeah, I’m still processing it all…”
“Solarez told me it was top secret because the FBI was trying to uncover a mole, who they found after they killed off Pletcher, who was bait or something. Anyway, my dad was never aware of any of that, he helped them with something and they put him in a safe house to protect him. I wasn’t allowed to tell you, I begged them to let me. I had a video conference with my dad and Justin today, which is why I’m here.”
“With Justin? Wait, what are you talking about?”
“Justin, my baby brother. Oh wow, Solarez didn’t tell you that part. He’s nearly a year old now.”
David jumps out of his chair and takes a few steps away from the table, a look of complete confusion crosses his face. Amanda realizes he’s overwhelmed by the information and remembers how shaken and upset she was when she first found out.
“Come back and sit down, I need to explain.” She gets up and touches his arm, trying not to make a scene among the tables of FBI administrative staff and agents. Several people stare questioningly their way.
“Solarez helped my dad retrieve frozen eggs and sperm from a fertility clinic my parents had used when they had trouble conceiving. Anyway, he also arranged for a surrogate. All this took place while my dad was protected at the safe house. He named the baby Justin, because that was the name I wanted. You know I always wanted a brother—”
“You didn’t just want one, you kept saying you had a brother named Justin after the crash. You remembered things you did with him. But how could you keep all this from me since we went searching for answers in Manhattan?”
“Solarez told my Uncle Andy and me absolutely no one could know anything. It’s been killing me. And yeah, the Justin thing is weird. Maybe my knowing about him and my amnesia are connected.”
“No, that makes no sense. Memory stores what already happened, he hadn’t even been born when you were telling everyone about him.”
Amanda sees the distrust in David’s eyes. “What else can I say? I’m telling the truth. You know how people say they h
ave a sixth sense or a hunch? Maybe I do too. C’mon, let’s get some lunch. What do you eat in this place?”
Being the kind of guy that normally analyzes and researches everything, including his meals, David barely looks at the food choices. Instead he thinks about the sixth sense theory but isn’t buying it. No matter, it doesn’t affect the way he views Amanda. After ordering and insisting on paying for both their meals, he sits back down at the table with her.
“I need to tell you something else,” Amanda says. I remembered something about me and Jonathan. I think I dreamed it the other night, or maybe it was…I don't know when. The point is I remembered something. You know what that means?”
“No, what?”
“That they’re all still there.”
“Who’s still there?”
“Not who, what. All my memories. I’ve read a lot about memory. They’re forever stored in our brains, but head trauma like I had damages the neurons, blocking me from processing them right. If I can remember something about Jonathan from before, that confirms it--I still have them.”
Sure, he initially urged Amanda to rekindle things with her old boyfriend because he thought it might help her gain back some of her prior self. But she had repeatedly refused, saying she had no memory of him or feelings for him. Now David wants a closer relationship with Amanda for himself. Selfish? No, he tells himself, yet again. They’ve gotten together a few times so far over their break from school, but more like old friends than what he wants. With or without the romance, he still cares deeply about her, but he’s overwhelmed by what he’s learned in the last few hours.
Her brings himself back to their lunch. “Um, yeah, that’s great. Anything weird happening, like health-wise? What about the bleeding and stuff?”
“Nothing’s changed there, I still barely bleed.” Amanda doesn’t mention her periods only last about a day. It seems unusual, but she can’t compare them to before the crash since she doesn’t remember them.
Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller Page 3
