by Siegel, Alex
"Detective Haymaker asked for our help," Alfred said. "He hoped we might have better luck than him at dealing with an obstructive federal agency."
"No need for hostility. We're just following regulations."
Virgil noticed a woman sitting by the window. She had brown hair and glasses, but the shape of her face was familiar. He realized it was Cat Lady wearing an excellent disguise. I'll give her points for persistence, Virgil thought. Her head was angled so she could see his table out of the corner of her eye.
"That's odd," Alfred said. "What regulations allow for lethal tests on human subjects?"
"The death was an unfortunate accident," Bravo said. "We're working hard to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Vague promises don't impress me. Just give us enough information that we can feel satisfied we've done our job. I would hate to take this issue to the next level or maybe even go public with it. Nobody wants that, right? We all serve the public interest in one way or another. Let's cooperate."
The special quality in Alfred's voice was turned up to maximum power. Vigil saw people at nearby tables reacting even though Alfred was speaking softly.
Mr. Bravo and Mr. Charlie were visibly shaking, but they managed to keep their mouths closed. It took intense, specialized training to acquire that kind of strength of will. These guys are Special Forces, he thought.
Bravo abruptly stood up. "Let's get out of here."
"Yes, sir." Charlie got to his feet but leaned on the table to steady himself.
The two men shuffled towards the door. Their uncertain footsteps made them look drunk.
Lisa immediately moved to follow them back to their car. She would try to get the license plate number. Cat Lady was even quicker and hurried out as if she were late for an appointment. She bumped into Charlie just as the man was opening the door. The move was so slick, Virgil barely glimpsed her take Charlie's wallet. She went outside, and Virgil lost sight of her.
"Cat Lady," Alfred said.
"Yes," Virgil said. "I'll follow her. You and Sara stick with Lisa."
He sprinted to the door. He passed Lisa along the way, and she gave him a curious look, but he kept going.
He stepped outside into the bright sunlight and quickly looked around. The federal agents had turned left, and their footsteps were still slow and unsteady. Virgil assumed Cat Lady had gone right. He ran in that direction as quietly as possible.
He went two doors down and spotted Cat inside a laundromat. She was examining a wallet in her hands. He went inside.
"Well done," Virgil said. "I'll take that if you don't mind."
She did a nice job of hiding her surprise. "Take what?" Her voice sparkled with innocence.
He held out his hand. She meekly handed over the wallet.
"Keep it coming," he said impatiently.
Cat gave him a driver's license.
She sighed. "I could tell they were Special Forces when they walked in. Why are zombies talking to the military?"
"You think we're zombies?" Virgil said.
"You don't breathe, blink, or swallow. You have no blood vessels in your eyes. Lisa's wound closed in a couple of minutes. What else could you be?"
"Your powers of observation are impressive, but there are a few reasons why we can't work together. First, I don't trust you. You're a crook, and frankly, your behavior hasn't assured me you're ready to change your ways. Second, my management doesn't like outsiders getting involved in my business, and the guy I work for isn't somebody you want to annoy. Walk away while you can."
Cat stared at him. "Before today, I thought I had everything figured out. Making money was easy. The world was my ATM. Now for the first time in many years, I don't know what's going on, but it's obviously very important. It's exciting. I want in."
"So you can exploit me? You want my power. You see an opportunity to make a monster score."
"Or maybe you'll show me there is a better way to live. I wouldn't be the first crook who got religion. I'm open to all possibilities at this point. Just give me a fair chance."
Virgil's shoulders sagged. Mammon had repeatedly cautioned him to use his power sparingly, and Cat's experience was a good example of why. Virgil had unintentionally changed her life, and now he had to live with the consequences.
"I'll make a deal with you," he said. "My work involves deception, and your special skills might be useful at some point. If I have a moment of insanity and decide I need you, I'll call. Until then, stay away. It's for your protection as well as mine. If I catch you sniffing around again, you'll meet the nasty Virgil, and you won't like him."
Cat nodded. "OK."
"One other thing. If I call, the job will be very dangerous, and you won't get paid. You'll be risking your life for the good of humanity."
She winced. "No money?"
"Just the satisfaction of a job well done," he said. "You can't tell anybody either. That's how my team rolls. Still interested?"
"Fine," she said bitterly. "I suppose that's what I asked for."
"And don't try to con me. My management would put you in a place much worse than any prison. Give me your number."
Cat told him a phone number, and he wrote it down on a notepad.
"When I call, it had better not go to an answering machine. I won't leave a message. See you later." Virgil left the laundromat.
He found the rest of the team half a block down the street. Lisa was peeking around the corner of a building into a parking lot. Alfred and Sara were standing out of sight.
"What's going on?" Virgil whispered.
"Those guys are sitting in a car," Lisa said. "I think they're making a call."
Chapter Five
Colonel Jack Knox was sitting in his office. It wasn't a bad place to work considering it had been a family room just a month ago. He had a standard desk made of steel painted green. His chair was well padded and comfortable. A bookshelf held a mix of award plaques, framed certificates, and manuals. A big bay window allowed sunlight into the room, but unfortunately, he had to keep the curtains closed so the neighbors wouldn't see inside.
The phone on his desk rang.
He grabbed the handset. "Hello?"
"This is Captain Kyle, sir. I just finished meeting with the Illinois State Police."
Knox knew the captain as a particularly skilled and honorable officer. He ran most of the field operations for the Special Unit and was often the lead man on sensitive assignments. He had a characteristic scar under his left eye.
"How did it go?" Knox said.
"I think they tried to use some kind of mind-control on us," Kyle said.
"Huh?" Knox straightened up. "Explain."
"It's difficult to be specific, sir. One of them had a voice which affected my brain. I suddenly felt very relaxed and cooperative. I wanted to tell him everything and almost did. It was like a truth serum but without an injection."
"Did you talk?"
"No, sir," Kyle said. "Thanks to our training, my lieutenant and I were able to resist, but it was hard. I've never felt anything like it."
"Did you identify the State Police officers?"
"Our body cameras got pictures of their faces, and I used my phone to photograph their ID cards. I already sent the photos to intelligence."
"Good," Knox said. "Well done."
"I should also mention my lieutenant lost his wallet, sir."
"How?"
"He doesn't know," Kyle said, "but it just contained fake ID. Nothing sensitive. Should we come back to headquarters?"
Knox paused. "No. Find a safe location to wait. Make sure nobody is following you. I'll send an electronic countermeasures van to make sure you're not bugged."
"That's a wise precaution, sir."
"Bye."
Knox hung up his phone, stood, and quickly jogged upstairs. He went to a room which had once been a bedroom but now served as his intelligence and security center. A man and a woman wearing Army fatigues were seated at computer workstations.
&n
bsp; "I was told you received some pictures," Knox said as he entered the room.
"Yes, sir," the woman replied. Her name was Corporal Ramirez.
"And?"
"The identification is fake. They certainly aren't with the State Police."
"Spies, eh?" Knox said.
Ramirez shrugged. "Very possible, sir. We're running the faces through all the usual government databases. No matches yet."
"Any progress on that phone number we called? The one for Detective Blandish?"
"The phone is registered under a different name which is also fake. We're having a difficult time getting the location of the phone. Somebody keeps blocking our trace."
"How?" Knox said. "I thought you guys were the best."
"Apparently somebody out there is even better. We're also seeing covert intrusion attempts. The attacks are sophisticated."
"How sophisticated?" Knox said.
"Professional grade. We needed help from the Pentagon to determine where the attacks are coming from, and we're still not sure. Somewhere in Chicago. We'll have better intelligence soon."
Knox rubbed his chin. "All this happening at the same time can't be a coincidence. The fake state troopers are trying to use professional hackers to penetrate our cover."
"That could be the case, sir.
"Sounds like a foreign intelligence operation. Print out those faces for me."
Ramirez used a photo printer to produce three pictures. Knox grabbed them from the tray. The printouts showed two men and a woman in civilian clothes appropriate for a business meeting. Knox didn't see anything remarkable in the pictures.
"Keep working," Knox said.
"Yes, sir."
Knox went next door to the medical laboratory. The team's medical examiner was still studying the body of Corporal Hartmann, and Knox was getting impatient for the official report.
He walked in and saw the corpse in even smaller pieces then before. All the internal organs had been removed, leaving a broken, empty rib cage. He prided himself on having a strong stomach, but the sight was enough to make his gut clench.
"Anything new to report?" Knox said.
The medical examiner turned to him. He was wearing a white lab coat, rubber gloves, and a face mask. Brown stains marked his coat, and they looked more like gravy than blood.
"A little, sir," the examiner said. "We've confirmed the victim was exposed to extremely intense electromagnetic radiation at relatively long wavelengths. There is also evidence of traumatic decompression."
"What do you mean?"
"Low air pressure caused his blood to boil. His oxygen mask was totally inadequate."
Knox gulped. "OK. Does Dr. Harlow know?"
"Not yet, sir."
"I'll go tell him. We have several topics to discuss."
Knox left the medical laboratory. He jogged down two flights of stairs to reach the basement. Harlow ran his physics experiments there with the assistance of several colleagues. He also built the experimental apparatus used for studying the portal. Knox managed the administrative and security elements of the Crusader Special Unit, but Harlow handled the science.
Harlow and his assistants were working on a robot. It had started as an explosive ordnance disposal robot with six wheels and beefy construction. A long manipulator arm had four joints. The scientists were strapping on sensor packs and communications gear. The robot would soon be bristling with shiny gadgets.
Harlow noticed Knox and came over. The two men moved away from the others so they could talk privately.
"You're making good progress on the robot," Knox said.
"Yes, sir," Harlow said, "but I'm doubtful it will work. From what we've seen, it seems clear the portal won't accept an inanimate object. It responds to people."
"Worth a try though. If nothing else, it will make Ms. Penn happy."
"Certainly. I'm much more hopeful about putting a man in an armored suit."
"I just talked to the medical examiner," Knox said. "Corporal Hartmann experienced traumatic decompression."
Harlow sighed. "I was worried about that. The suit will have to be air-tight. Are you having any luck getting your hands on one? Building a hardened spacesuit will take a lot of time, sir, if we have to do it entirely on our own."
"The latest incarnation of the Tactical Assault Light Operator Suit might fit the bill. I have a buddy in Washington who is happy to send us a prototype. It's already sealed as protection against chemical weapons."
"Being sealed doesn't make it a spacesuit. Maybe a flight suit from a SR-71 Blackbird would be a better place to start. Those can certainly handle a vacuum. We can wrap it in gold foil and padding. The result won't be pretty, but keeping the test subject alive is all that matters."
"Working with the Air Force is more challenging," Knox said, "but it's a good idea."
"If you don't mind," Harlow said, "I have to get back to work."
"Wait. I didn't come down here to talk about robots and spacesuits. We have a new issue to deal with. Some people posing as Illinois State Police are investigating us. They may be trying to hack into our computers. We can't figure out who they really are. The strangest part is at least one of them has some kind of mind-control power, although I'm a bit doubtful of that."
Harlow's eyes widened.
"Here are some pictures." Knox handed over the printouts.
Harlow stared at the pictures intently.
"I can tell from that squirrely look in your eyes that you know something."
"I might, sir," Harlow said. "My source warned me we might run into resistance. These might be aliens put on Earth to guard the portal."
"Are you kidding?" Knox said angrily. "Why didn't you mention this until now?"
"I didn't want to raise the alarm until there was some real evidence."
Knox was furious. He was very weary of Harlow's mysterious "source" revealing crucial facts at dramatic moments. Knox was certain important information was still being withheld, and that could get people killed.
He restrained his temper with difficulty. "I hope you realize what you're saying. If aliens are on Earth, then this isn't a simple research project anymore. It's a matter of national security, even global security! The President has to be told."
"Calm down. If they are aliens, they've been here a long time and haven't caused any harm to humanity. If not, we're getting excited about nothing. And if we start crying wolf, the big wheels in Washington will take this project away from us. We'll become little more than consultants. Neither of us want that." Harlow took another look at the pictures. "You have a whole bunch of Special Forces operatives to work with, the best of the best, right? I recommend you quietly capture the aliens. Make sure they actually are aliens before putting your neck on the line. If we deal with this on our own, it could be very good for us."
Knox saw the wisdom in Harlow's suggestion. The Army rewarded people who solved problems instead of just complaining about them. Bagging three aliens would enhance Knox's stature and reputation enormously. He would likely get a promotion out of it. If the fake state troopers turned out to be ordinary human spies, he could also turn that to his advantage.
"And of course," Harlow added, "there is no reason to tell Ms. Penn about this. She would just blow it all out of proportion."
"Agreed," Knox said. "Is there anything else I need to know before I go?"
"Not that I'm aware of, sir. Just be careful."
"One day I'll find out who your source is."
"We'll discuss it after the operation is a success," Harlow said.
"I could force you to talk. Maybe I should, considering what is at stake."
Harlow swallowed. "That would have very negative consequences, sir. You would lose the portal."
"According to your source again?"
"Uh, yes, sir. I'm the key to this mission. My source won't deal with anybody else."
"This is disappointing," Knox said. "I can't believe you're holding out on me after all I've done for you. I ga
ve you a job when nobody else would. I was the only commander willing to overlook your... unfortunate past. The men still mutter about you behind your back."
Knox hated depending on a conniving weakling like Harlow, but without him, the project would fail, and Knox hated failure even worse. He just had to play the hand he had been dealt.
Harlow lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry for your distress, but my source is very particular about how this matter should be handled."
"There will be a reckoning." Knox pointed his finger. "Mark my words."
He stomped out of the basement.
* * *
Harlow sighed with relief after his commander left. The situation was getting messy. Lies were piling on top of lies.
The pictures were still in Harlow's hand, and he took another look. One showed a beefy man with wavy brown hair. The man in the second picture was older, thinner, and seemingly wiser. The last picture showed a skinny woman with hazel eyes.
Harlow knew they weren't really aliens. They were most likely the dangerous adversaries the face had warned him about. They were a threat to the project, not Earth, and Harlow himself was the primary target.
The three strangers looked human enough. If he had met them on the street, he wouldn't know they were monsters. He had to hope Knox and his crew could capture the trio. Harlow hated to rely on hope, but he had little else these days.
* * *
Virgil watched the car containing the O.E.A.P. agents drive off in the distance. He had considered trying to follow them in his own car but had rejected that plan. They were undoubtedly trained to spot a tail. In retrospect, Virgil realized he should've brought a tracking device.
He turned to Lisa, Alfred, and Sara.
"I got a license plate number and a wallet," Virgil said, "thanks to Cat."
"And I have the IMSI-catcher," Sara said. "It may have picked up a few clues."
"And I took pictures in the coffee shop with my phone," Lisa said. "They're a little dark and blurry though."
"Sounds like a pretty good haul," Virgil said. "Let's go see Mei."
"Wait," Alfred said. "What happened with Cat?"
"I sent her away, but I told her I might call later in case we need her. I have her number."
