This was uncharted territory, even for her. Part of her wished Nathan was still here. As evil as he was, and all that he’d done, he would be a great brain to pick at this moment. And as greedy as he was and corrupt as he’d become, he still wouldn’t want innocent Americans murdered by some random mass shooting hijacker. Being good at her job in this instance might not be enough.
Her game was off right now and her mind desperately needed some down time. They’d gone from fighting for their lives, to fighting for someone else’s life in a breath. The rest their minds needed was more important than Jordan knew. She was afraid he was going to exceed his threshold. Downtime for a psychic was a super imperative part of growth and effectiveness.
Turning away from the mirror, she stepped out of the tiny bathroom into the dimly lit café. The purple walls were only slightly less nauseating than the orange and white tile floor. But of course, Jordan loved the floor. This place could be serving up dog biscuits in the coffee and it would still be the best place on earth to him. She understood a lot about him but his bizarre affinity to the color orange was something she’d never understand, probably because it had nothing to do with his ability and was a purely unexplainable idiosyncrasy.
When she entered the dining area, none of the few patrons turned to look at her. But they did twist their heads when Jordan came hurrying towards her. “C’mon there’s been another shooting, or about to be one, I can’t tell.”
She followed him out the door and went towards the driver side. “I’ll drive so you concentrate on the frequencies and see what you can learn.”
Jordan nodded and jumped around the front of the blue SUV to the passenger side. She didn’t want him distracted with another task, he needed to try and get ahead of this one if at all possible.
Taking directions from Jordan on where to go, she was about to jump on the highway and he yelled, “Stop!”
She hit the brakes and pulled to the side. “What’s wrong?”
Jordan tilted his head back into the seat. “It’s too late.”
“How do you know?”
He glanced over at her. “The frequency went off the grid, the energy is gone.”
She nodded. “We should still go to the scene and see what happened.”
They drove a while down the four-lane road in silence until they came to a chaotic scene. Kayci got out and a uniformed officer tried to stop her. Even though she wasn’t technically part of the Strategic Operational Reconnaissance Center she also hadn’t been formally dismissed from the NSA, and until that official moment came she was still enlisted. So a quick flash of her NSA credentials got her past the scene barrier.
She approached a detective, showed her badge. “What happened here?”
The cop looked her up and down. “Some psychopath jumped out of his car in traffic and just started shooting random people at the intersection.”
“Your guys take him out?”
The cop turned his head. “Nope, took himself out. One shot to the head.”
“How many fatalities?”
“Just the shooter so far, but we have six wounded, one’s critical, she’s fifty-fifty on her way to memorial.” He looked at the scene, then at Kayci. “What do the Feds have to do with this?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, I was just driving by and came upon the scene.”
“Well, we’ve got it handled.”
“I’m sure you do. Thanks for your openness.”
Kayci turned and saw Jordan looking down at the man laying face up. She could see the look on his face. “What’s the matter?”
He twisted his lips. “It’s not right. I feel the frequency and it’s still here, just not as strong, it’s not him.”
She glanced around. “What does that mean? Why are we here?”
“I’m not sure.” Jordan glanced around the busy intersection.
Suddenly from across the street another man ran onto the scene, a pistol in each hand cracked as he attacked the first responders and cops milling about. Kayci pushed Jordan down behind the edge of one of the cars, several cops returned gunfire and the chaos turned into war that erupted from seemingly every direction.
Glass exploded and steel popped as bullets flew into surrounding vehicles. After what felt like an eternity, but was only a handful of seconds, the blasting stopped. Kayci got up and the gunman was just feet from them, on his back with his eyes wide open looking up, shaking, wounded and not long for this world.
Jordan knelt down near him but the cops quickly ushered him up and away.
“No—no, dammit!” Jordan tried to push his way back.
Kayci stopped the officers, “Let him go, he’s with me.”
Jordan went back. He looked back at Kayci and just shook his head. It was too late.
Kayci got an impression of the nearby frequencies, it was a mess of chaos as it should have been but she was unable to sift through the confusion. Jordan slinked back towards her. She touched his arm and said, “I’m sorry, Jordan, I know you wanted that one.”
“I felt like there was something to learn there, I missed it. I could have stopped it.”
When all was said and done, two were dead, one cop and one EMT who had just stepped out of the ambulance. It was ugly.
“These shootings are out of control.” She shook her head. “People are going to start freaking out if we don’t get control of this. We’re going to reach epidemic proportions again.”
Jordan nodded. “Remember a few years ago it seemed like there was another shooting somewhere in the country every other day. I’d have to look in the papers but I swear we had like ten of them in a matter of a month.”
“Yeah I remember.”
He sighed. “Kinda makes you think huh? Only this time they seem to be concentrated in this localized area.”
Kayci was thinking the same thing. She wondered how many of those a few years ago could have been the work of this hijacker, or another like him. Maybe he’s been active longer than they knew and maybe he was somewhere on that watch list.
She turned back towards the car when she saw Agent Rahandumar emerging from a black sedan and coming towards them.
“Rumi,” Kayci said as she approached him. “What’re you doing here? What’s going on?”
“I got orders from my director. Someone wants you two back on the Bella Hill case.”
“But, I thought we were out?”
“Well, our plan failed miserably, Murt backed out of the deal, he shot and killed a local cop who tried to be a hero. There’s also someone with me.”
Another man approached, he was short and stocky with cropped black hair. Rumi turned and introduced him. “Kayci, this is Clyde Faye.”
The man nodded. “I’m Managing Special Agent Clyde Faye of the NSA’s Select Division One. Chief Director Fasth sent me to give you this.” He reached into his breast pocket and held out a small packet. “You’ve been fully reinstated as a member of the NSA’s Directors Reach Commission Division Eight.”
Kayci was stunned. “What? The DRC?”
Agent Faye handed her a phone. “Here’s all your official operating procedures as well as your contact at the DRC.” He handed Jordan a silver credit card and a phone. “You’re an official asset now under her direction.”
Kayci shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He held out his hand. “You’ll be contacted shortly with further details. Welcome back Special Agent.” She shook his hand and he turned and walked away.
She looked to Rumi as he shrugged and said, “Apparently someone in the NSA believes highly in you, both of you.”
“Who?” Kayci wondered aloud.
“No idea,” Rumi admitted. “But whoever it is has lots of intelligence pull. They must have convinced my director to let you back in. But he ordered me to convince you to get back on the Hill case…soooo…”
Kayci heard his words but couldn’t really reply right away, finally after a long breath she said, “Yeah, sure, tell the FBI, I mean—what am
I saying you are the FBI, tell your section chief we’re in.”
Jordan examined the silver card with his picture on it. “What’s the catch?”
Rumi smiled and laughed. “Oh, I’m sure Kayci can explain all the details. I have to go.” He turned away.
Kayci slowly got her feet moving towards the SUV and numbly climbed in. She sat there looking down at the steering wheel, completely blown away.
Jordan pulled the door shut. “Umm…what just happened?”
She started the vehicle and pulled away from the scene. After driving about a mile, she pulled into a parking lot that belonged to a beige and white sprawling church with a large gold cross standing above an arched brick portico. The lot was completely empty, kind of how her mind felt right now. It was racing but not a single thought was lasting more than a second, which oddly made it feel somewhat empty. This was about the last thing she expected.
Jordan asked. “What’s the DRC?”
Kayci was still in stunned mode but she started talking. “The Director’s Reach Committee, it’s a completely autonomous unit. It doesn’t even exist unofficially. They’re renegades. Spies who answer to no one, make their own rules, are accountable to no agency unless they choose it…pretty much they do whatever the hell they want. They’re the envy of everyone in special intelligence. They supersede every other agency unit holding the highest security clearance to date. They can’t be held accountable for anything under the umbrella of national security.” She laughed. “As James Bond might say, it’s a license to kill, or not, or to do it and blame it on someone else.”
Jordan held his silver card up to the light. “So that’s good. Right?”
It was good, great, amazing. But it didn’t make sense. “Yeah, it’s really good. But I’m not sure how it happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, those positions aren’t just given out arbitrarily. It usually takes months of consideration, interviews and debriefings. Actually, usually it takes some sort of nepotism. The positions aren’t just given to anyone, there has to be pedigree there, it’s usually the few select families and friends that pass it on. I mean, the only person who can revoke this charter is the president and a few highest ranking intelligence officials or members of the joint chiefs, none of whom will ever know who I am.”
“Huh, that’s pretty cool I guess.”
Kayci nodded. “Yeah, it’s, I mean, wow I can’t believe this.”
“What’s the deal with this card?”
She examined it and handed it back. “It’s an asset identification card. You’re now officially under my badge. As they say, I’m your handler. If you get into trouble you just show that card.”
Jordan smiled. “So I’m micro-chipped now?”
Kayci laughed. “You kinda were anyway. It’s not like I can’t find you if I need to.”
He sighed. “Does this mean they own us?”
She shook her head slightly. “No actually it’s quite the opposite. The DRC is called what it is, because only one member of the ADG, which is the Active Directors Guild of JICA, the Joint Intelligence Command Agency, has our information and can reach out to us. The DRC is basically a personal interest unit. We clean up the messes and trump all domestic national security issues. And the best part is that since we’re totally autonomous we can refuse or accept any assignment with impunity. Like I said, it’s the dream appointment of every agent. You get to be a spy on your own terms without actually being tied down to the life.”
“How many directors are there?”
“Eight, they all have a dog in the fight, they all have their own reach committee. If they need something they just call an agent and keep calling until they get one that can help them at that time.”
“But then how do they get anyone to help?”
“Well, that’s the catch. If you want to make any money you have to answer, there is no salary. But there are incentives, trust me. Sometimes assignments are too good to pass up.”
“How many agents are in the DRC?”
She shrugged. “It’s likely that no one knows and that’s the beauty of it. A lot of them are retired spies who still want some action. Others are just appointed, and maybe some are like me, outcasts who have nowhere else to go.”
Jordan put the card into his wallet. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but aren’t you more surprised?”
Kayci pulled back onto the street and headed down the busy road. “I’m shocked. I was expecting a debriefing where I was forced to sign a nondisclosure agreement. And then summarily stripped of my credentials. But in a sense they supersede my other credentials. My old NSA badge has probably been revoked. I’m really at a loss.”
“So what’s next?”
She didn’t really know the answer to that. It was going to take a good amount of processing to let this sink in. She never even dreamed of being part of the DRC. It’s both the most coveted and most hated position an agent can hold. Everyone wants to be them but at the same time, everyone hates them because even in the spy business jealousy is an ugly monster. No one would dare mess with the DRC agents, but at the same time, they’re not really excited to help them out when they need it because if a DRC agent asks for your help it’s very unwise to say no.
Of course, not everyone is like that. But there are always a few bad apples in every bunch so you had to be careful who you trust. Right now, she was just trying to imagine who in the NSA had pulled the right strings.
Chapter 10
So this is it, Jordan didn’t really wanted to hate the idea being an asset to some secret intelligence group. This was not his game at all, he was an auto mechanic, a grease monkey. He wasn’t supposed to be to be in this position. If not for the fact this stupid black box of jagged frequency lines was invading his head, he wouldn’t feel any different, sort of.
It was nice that the headaches were mostly gone. Before he met Kayci they were getting so bad he wanted to stick a pencil in his ear sometimes. Usually he would just chase them away with a few shots of Spearmint Schnapps.
But as much as he wanted to hate it, part of him did think it was kind of cool. He’d never really belonged to anything since little league. Even in school, he sort of did his own thing. A lot of people wanted to be his friend, people tended to gravitate towards him for some reason. And the more he kept to himself, ironically, the more people wanted to know him. Pushing them away nicely was always the preferred method to keep them safe. After all for years he though death was following him around, he didn’t realize it was he who was following death.
Standing in the parking lot at the pumps of this gas station slash convenience store right now was giving him an odd feeling. The strange swelling in his head that told him death was stalking was ever so faint but prevalent.
Jordan reached into his pocket, took out his new NSA phone and started scrolling through the screens. It made him think of the idea he came up with in Hoboken. Kayci was impressed with his little chat-box trick. He thought of the phone and wondered if he could make a call with his brain in that sense.
Usually how it works is that his line of frequency would reach out to the line of frequency he wanted to read or contact and a small sprig would knot into it. It was like WiFi for the brain, more simply put. It was a network-to-network connection. But he had to see or feel the network to contact it. He was wondering if he could contact a network that was unseen on the graph. Like if he had the frequency numbers could he call it.
Kayci exited the convenience store holding two bottle of water and looked at him across the asphalt. When their eyes met he felt that kick to the brain that was becoming too familiar, but it wasn’t fun. It buckled his knees and he nearly fell, catching himself with the mirror of the SUV.
Jordan shook his head as Kayci ran up to him. “Hey, you okay?”
“Why does that keep happening?”
“I wish I knew. But I have to say it’s bothersome.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you o
kay to drive?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it only lasts a split second and I feel fine. It’s just weird.” He slipped around the hood and got into the driver seat.
The sun was bright, only a few white clouds traversed the sky. Starting the vehicle Jordan asked, “So what’s the next move?”
Kayci reached into the glove box, took hold of a pistol and swapped it with the one from her holster. “We have to find the girl.”
Jordan nodded. “I know.” He wasn’t sure, but for some reason the girl and what had been going on with the random acts of violence were somehow connected. Exactly how they might be linked he couldn’t quite get a bead on. But he had a gut feeling that all things were on a collision course.
Kayci said, “I think you’re definitely right.”
He sighed, “Was I broadcasting?”
“Loudly.”
“I need to stop that.”
“Yes, you do, especially right now. Because if what we think is going on is actually going on, someone is going to hear it.”
“Okay, what’s the best way to do it?”
“Remember what you did with the chat box? Let’s keep doing that. Whenever you want to tell me something, or whenever you’re thinking something tied to this case, put it into that chat box so only I can see it. Whatever you did there worked perfectly. Everyone has their own process. Do whatever works for you.”
“I think I can do that. I’ll just practice and maybe it’ll become like second nature. I just hope no one else knows about that.”
She shook her head. “You blew our minds, Jordan. What you did was so simple, yet so perfectly complex. You fooled the best psychic minds the NSA had ever seen with that when it mattered the most. Don’t discount your talents.”
He nodded. “I’m learning to trust my instincts.”
“Please do. Because as good as I am, you’re going to be better. I’ve told you, you’ve come a long way in a short time. And it could be because of your unique situation.”
He looked at her. “My unique situation?”
“Yes, Jordan, your gestation period was beyond unprecedented and there has to be a reason for that. I’ve never heard of anyone being latent for so long while having experiences like you did. You were thirteen when it all started, that’s nearly fifteen years and that’s not even calculable on the scale we use. In general, five years is an average period, ten years is ridiculously long. I’ve only ever heard of a handful of people in gestation for a decade.”
Soul Frequency (Frequency Series Book 2) Page 5
