Probe

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Probe Page 93

by Douglas E Roff


  They met on time, sat in the park and talked for a while and then decided to go to a local bistro for a glass of wine and a snack. The attraction was instant and mutual, so they decided they would have dinner a little later at a nice Italian place Bitsie knew. Bitsie excused herself to use the Ladies Room and, when she returned to the table, Catriona had a look of concern on her face.

  “What’s wrong? Something happen?”

  “Didn’t you say you work in a building on the river walk out toward the airport?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “It’s on the news. The office building adjacent to the River Run Hotel was attacked and blown up. Terrorists they think. Everyone’s dead. The building is just a pile of rubble.”

  “Oh my God.” Bitsie stared in horror. She covered her mouth in shock then asked the bartender to turn up the volume on the local news.

  She recognized the building right away.

  It was her building.

  ***

  Bitsie dug her cell phone out of her handbag and flicked it on. She had nineteen messages, all frantic, from Edward, Vera, Adam, her parents and many of her friends. They had recognized the building too. She excused herself from Catriona and speed dialed Edward.

  Edward answered immediately. Bitsie, is that you? Are you OK?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I’m fine. What happened?”

  “Where are you Bitsie. I mean where exactly?”

  “Downtown having drinks with a friend. Why? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. But you must listen very carefully to me right now. Say goodbye to your friend, get in your car and head north to Seattle. Do it right now. I’ll send you an email with an address where I want you to go. When you get to Seattle, go that address directly. Do not stop for any reason except gas. Someone will meet you there. Do whatever you’re asked to do. The man you will meet is family, and he knows what to do next. His name is Rafi and he works for me.”

  Bitsie protested, “But my clothes, my things. Can’t I get them?”

  “No. Leave now. Don’t stop for anything. Do not, I repeat, do not go home for any reason.”

  Bitsie was in shock, “I just had coffee with Vera’s Mom. Shouldn’t we warn her. And her Dad.”

  “Not necessary.” Edward’s voice trailed off.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re dead, Bitsie. Vera’s folks are both dead.”

  Chapter 45

  The trucks, vans and SUVs were all in communication as they approached the building. Patrick believed that the mainstay of the security for the building was its nondescript appearance, out of the way location and absence of signage, logos or other identifiers of who might occupy the building. He didn’t expect armed resistance once inside the building. In fact, on that minor point, he was wrong. There was security in the building, at least on floors one through four. Once in the cozy confines of floors five through eight, there would be no armed resistance. After all, why would a low-level security, federal data processing project need armed security? Nobody would be stupid enough to look for federal trouble if there wasn’t a fairly robust financial payday.

  There was none here, at least not in the monetary sense of the word ‘payday’. But for Patrick Murphy O’Brien, there would be a big payoff. He had carefully scouted the building, manners of ingress and egress, tested security, and had brief conversations with exiting building employees on the access protocols to upper floors. He did this in tandem with others, especially women on his team, who feigned being lost, unable to find an address or were simply too dense to be able to figure out where they were. Add an attractive appearance, ample cleavage, and a winning smile applied liberally to young men exiting the building on their way to lunch, and it usually resulted in decent, albeit limited, intelligence for Patrick.

  After a week or so, of probing, Patrick decided the best way to the fifth floor and above, without disturbing the tenants and their security on the first four floors, was to force their way into the underground garage through the loading dock at the rear of the building. From there Patrick, and his four teams would then secure access to the upper floors by persuading the men at the loading dock that it would be in their best interest to guide them to the top four floors using their swipe cards, retinal scans and fingerprints. If they cooperated, Patrick told them, no harm would come to them or anyone else. All they wanted were some files, and once they had those files, they would depart as quickly as they came.

  It seemed reasonable. After all, there was nothing of value onsite.

  Patrick approached the rear loading dock in one of the large trucks. He exited the cab of the truck with a clipboard in hand along with four men dressed in overalls. He asked for the crew foreman, who promptly appeared and shook his hand.

  “I have a delivery, but I think I’m at the wrong location. I wonder if I can use your phone? My cell is dead and none of my crew are allowed to bring their own cells.”

  Patrick was shown into the small office, where he promptly pulled his 9 mm Glock and informed the foreman what he needed to do to remain useful to Patrick, by which he meant that the foreman would still have a chance to be alive at the end of the day.

  The foreman tried his best to dissemble, and mislead Patrick, but that only earned him a dead colleague.

  “Lie to me again and I will kill the rest of your crew one by one. Are we clear?”

  “Very.”

  Patrick speed dialed his cell to signal the coast was clear. Three other teams arrived in a two SUVs at the loading dock. Four more panel vans lined up at the entrance to the basement parking. Patrick dispatched one of his men to let them in using a security code given up by the foreman. The drivers carefully parked each van in strategic locations, exited the vans and joined the four teams making their new head count five each. The foreman was then encouraged to lead the men to the elevators for the short journey up to floors five through eight. The elevator would stop at each floor, dispatching one crew per floor. The teams would block all exits from the work areas on each floor so, that no one would enter or exit once in place. The phone and computer systems were shut down from the main switches in the basement.

  Patrick and his crew exited on the eighth floor, and immediately went to the offices occupied by Tony and Bitsie. As Bitsie was absent, Patrick and one of his men confronted Tony at gunpoint. Tony was cuffed using plastic ties and tape was placed over his mouth. Patrick and his team then methodically forced all the employees to their knees and were similarly bound using plastic ties and their mouths taped. The entire exercise was quick and brutally efficient.

  Patrick returned to Tony’s office and removed the tape.

  “You are Mr. Tony Adamson and you’re the man in charge of this facility. Is that correct.”

  “I’m the Operations Manager.”

  “OK, Mr. Operations Manager, where is Dr. Bitsie Tolan? I would very much like to meet her.”

  “She’s out. Gone for the day.”

  “Gone where?”

  “I don’t know. I think she was meeting a friend downtown for drinks. She didn’t tell me where.”

  Patrick looked at Tony carefully. “I think you’re lying. I think you know exactly where she is and what she’s doing. So, let’s try this again. Where is Dr. Bitsie Tolan?”

  “I told you I don’t know. I don’t.”

  “Carl. Bring her in.”

  A man brought in a woman, bound and taped like the others. “Please give the nice lady a seat.”

  “Now,” Patrick continued, “I will ask you one more time. Where is Dr. Bitsie Tolan?”

  Tony looked at the man, then said, “Look if I knew I would tell you. She left to meet someone. I don’t know who.”

  While Tony was talking, the man reached into his coat pocket and removed an object that looked to Tony very much like a silencer. He screwed the cylinder onto his gun.

  “We have two ways to go here under normal circumstances. One way is short
and sweet, but my preferred manner of interrogation usually takes a little bit longer. In fact, it often takes days, but then that has more to do with my perverse mind and quaint hobbies than actually extracting information. That I usually get right away. But, time is of the essence here, so I want you to concentrate Tony, and carefully consider your answers. Lie to me again and there will be significant consequences.”

  Tony sat stoically, even though his heart was racing, and his stress levels elevated.

  “I don’t know...”

  Patrick shot the woman in the head. Brain matter, skull fragments and viscera splattered against the glass walls of his office inside corner office.

  “Are you insane? I can’t tell you what I don’t know. She went downtown. That’s all I know.”

  Patrick looked at Tony. Then he said, “Carl? Next please.”

  Carl brought in another woman colleague.

  “Now then Tony. Who did she go downtown to see?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” His voice was resolute, but that wasn’t how he felt. On the other hand, he knew who these folks had to be, and he wouldn’t help them, even if it meant his death, and those of everyone else. The entire planet was at stake.

  The woman who had been brought in was seated next to the dead woman. She sized up the situation immediately, and said, “I know.”

  Patrick looked at her and said, “Really? Do tell luv.”

  Tony shot the woman a glance and said, “Don’t say a word Marlie.” Tape was immediately placed over Tony’s mouth. Marlie looked at Tony and said, “This job and Bitsie Tolan aren’t worth dying for. If I don’t say what I know, someone else will. And I’ll be dead keeping a secret for five more minutes. So, fuck you Tony.”

  Patrick listened quietly. “Now, now. It’s alright Ms. Marlie, dear. You’ve made the right choice. Now where did she go and who did she go to see?”

  “She went downtown for coffee with the mother of one of her friends. I think her name was Vela or Clara or something like that.”

  Patrick asked, “Vera Capri?”

  “Yes, that’s it. She went to have coffee with her friends’ mom, Mrs. Capri. Don’t know why. After that, she was going to meet someone for drinks. I don’t know where, but I know she likes to go to a bar called ‘Jackie’s’. It’s right near the Park in the City Center. Not sure what street.”

  The first bit was true, the last bit a fabrication. Marlie would come clean to stay alive but wasn’t about to make it that easy for Patrick to find Bitsie. Marlie knew exactly where Bitsie was going.

  “Phillip! Where are you lad?” A man appeared, holding a tablet. “See if you can find an address in one of our databases for a Mr. and Mrs. Capri with any connection to Vera Capri. Must be something. Call it in if you can’t find anything right away.”

  Patrick turned to Tony and asked, “I have more questions. Now you can choose to follow the example of my new friend Marlie, or I can start killing your friends again, one by one. Up to you. But please make up your mind quickly or I’ll be asking Carl for another human sacrifice.”

  He turned to Marlie and said, “You, Miss, have earned a reprieve so, I won’t be killing you today. But why don’t you stand by? I think I may need your assistance a little later. Do you have access to the computer system here?”

  Marlie looked at Tony, then Patrick. “Yes.”

  “Good. Wonderful. Let’s begin. Now Tony, please tell me the name, and location of Vera’s friend who she met here in Portland. And, while you’re at it, please tell me who she works for, where they are and what their connection is to the DataLab Project.”

  “I don’t know. And, if I did, I still wouldn’t tell you. It’s classified.”

  Marlie said, “I know. Everyone here knows. Please, just don’t kill anybody else. It isn’t worth it.”

  Tony looked at Marlie, “Don’t be an idiot, Marlie. He’s going to kill us anyway. You have no idea who these people are. Don’t say another word.”

  Patrick stood up from the desk he had been sitting on, walked over to Tony and fired two bullets into his head.

  “Now, Marlie, we shan’t have any more distractions from him. And I promise, I will not shoot you or anyone else today if you tell me what I want to know. Deal?”

  “Vera’s girlfriend is Hannah Parker. She an Anthropologist. They left Portland, but nobody here knows where they went. Except Tony and Bitsie.”

  “Oh bother. Seems my source is dead. That’s alright dear, we know where they went.”

  “Parker works for Edward St. James, another Anthropologist, and his son, Adam St. James, a computer nerd. The son runs this place and is a high-level consultant for the DataLab Project. Not sure what exactly he does, but those two guys are connected.”

  “Where can I find these two lads? Any idea?”

  “Sure. They live up in Canada, somewhere on Vancouver Island. Don’t know where exactly, but I do know they work for the Victoria Institute. Place called Barton Bay, or Sparrows Bay, something like that I think. That’s all I know. Please just don’t hurt anyone else. That’s all I know.”

  “Very good, Marlie. Now why don’t we jump on the computer and see if we can verify any of your story. If we can, then I’ll be leaving.”

  Marlie got on the computer and asked Patrick to bring someone in from another office. “She can get us access to what you want. Everything except the encrypted stuff, I mean.”

  Jessie Mandrell came in and immediately felt sick. Patrick suggested that she pull herself together and cooperate. “That way you too can go home to your family tonight.”

  When Patrick had what he wanted, and had downloaded files onto a thumb drive, he left.

  He turned back, and said, “Marlie, it has been a rare pleasure and I’m sad to think that we won’t get to know each other better. I think I would’ve enjoyed that. You, on the other hand, would not have. I’m almost certain of that. Goodbye.”

  Patrick did the reverse of their entry to the four top floors and collected his men on the way down. They exited the building the way they came in, taking a few seconds to kill the foreman and dump his body in his office. The two SUVs and two panel vans were waiting, and the men piled in. They went around to the front and watched as the second large truck rolled up to the front side of the building.

  The driver got out of that truck and got in one of the panel vans. They drove off in the direction of downtown Portland.

  Patrick waited until they were a fair distance away, then turned and pressed a button on a device that looked like a wireless TV remote.

  Six vehicles exploded simultaneously, causing the building to collapse in on itself. In a matter of minutes, the building was a pile of rubble. No one inside survived.

  Patrick turned to one of his team and said, “That was really fun. Not sure why, but I never get tired of blowing shit up.”

  Chapter 46

  Bitsie tuned to the all-news radio in Portland on her way north. The news was wall-to-wall coverage about the ‘terrorist attack’, speculating whether it was religious extremism or home-grown right-wing militias. One commentator even suggested it might be a resurgence of the Black Panthers or maybe even the Weather Underground. No matter that most of those radicals from the hippie bygone era were more likely to be living in a retirement community growing medical marijuana in a community garden, but the speculation made men and women of a certain age smile.

  Edward had been quite clear that Bitsie was to head north without delay and that she should input the address of her destination into her GPS app on her smartphone. She would be there in a couple of hours and when she arrived she was to call a number and speak only to a man named Rafi. He would know what to do and would find a nice place for her car. She would be going on a little trip with some of Edward’s relatives and she wasn’t to ask questions. Once she was safe, he would have an extended conversation with her about next steps.

  Bitsie was scared out of her min
d and feeling like she had just downed five or six expressos, one after another. When she stopped for gas in Olympia, she could hardly hold her hands steady. She asked the teen pumping gas if he could help her. She was grateful when he said he would.

  Until now this whole exercise had been a big computer game with no connection to her in the real world. Now Tony and all of her colleagues at the shop were dead. Mr. and Mrs. Capri too. It didn’t seem possible and she was fading in and out trying to keep her mind steady.

  Bitsie turned off the I-5 at the turnoff just north of the bridge with the University of Washington campus bearing off into the distance on the right. She carefully followed the GPS route, turning left toward the water. She pulled over and called Rafi, who told her follow the prescribed route, and he would be out in front of the big Catholic Church to meet her. She would be safe, and he would be her guide from there.

  She arrived a few minutes later, and when Rafi opened the door for her, she burst into tears, unable to resist the immense sadness, and pain she had been holding inside. She didn’t know Rafi; she didn’t care. He reassured her that she was safe and would remain so, as long as he was around. She was comforted, and she wanted to believe that what he said was true.

  ***

  Hours earlier, when the news first broke and Edward couldn’t reach the Portland office, he knew what likely had happened. When the news reached him that Vera’s parents had been murdered, he was certain who was responsible.

  He called Carlos immediately.

  “Edward, to what do I owe the pleasure? Something wrong? Is Misti OK?”

  “We’re fine. Misti is fine. But you my friend are in a great deal of danger.”

  “Slow down my friend. What’s this all about?”

  “Have you seen the news? The news in Portland?”

  “Yeah, something about a terrorist attack. What’s that got to do with me?”

 

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