by David Archer
Maybe I was born to be a secret agent, she thought, as another lie fell smoothly onto her lips. She smiled shyly. “Promise not to laugh? I’m gonna be a nanny. There’s this website where you can apply for nanny jobs, and since taking care of kids is about all I know how to do, it seemed like a good idea, now that I’m all alone. I’ll live right with the family, so that means I can save up some money and get back on my own feet someday.”
Pat looked concerned. “You’ve got kids?” he asked carefully. “Where...”
“Oh, no, none of my own,” she said. “But I was the oldest of nine kids back home, and I was ten before my next sister was born, so I took care of the rest of them for as long as I can remember. I guess I could go back home, but I just want to try to make it on my own first. Is that bad?”
“Why, no,” Pat said with a smile. “I admire you for having the gumption to get right back up after life knocks you down. I lost my Maddie three years ago, and it took me months to come out of the house again. I wish I’d had your courage and strength.”
Becky finished her coffee and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “And thanks for the hospitality and the ride tomorrow. Do you want to hang out here a while, or...”
Pat grinned. “Heck, no,” he said. “Let’s get out of here and go to the house. We can watch a movie or something, if you want, I got all the TV stuff. Cable, internet, that Netflick thing, you name it.”
Becky smiled. He really did remind her of Mac in a lot of ways. “Let’s go,” she said.
He led her out to his pickup, a nearly new F150, and even opened the passenger door for her. She had to grab the handle to pull herself up into the seat, and couldn't help chuckling as she buckled her seat belt. This was the kind of truck Mac always talked about buying, but that was always going to be something he would do “after this next deal.”
He was always going after the big one, and Becky had worried more than once that it would get him hurt someday. If she had known that this would be the one, she never would have let him talk her into going along with it. It had scared her even the first time he had brought it up, but he was so confident, so sure he could pull it off, and with the money that was supposedly going to vaporize when that fat doctor died, they could finally retire and be done with that kind of thing.
She had even tried to get him to call it off, to not be connected to anything that was going to cost someone his life, but Mac said it was too late. The doctor was going to die no matter what he did now, and the only thing he could do to be sure they were safe and out of that line of work was to get that money.
Blood money, she had called it, and that’s what it felt like, weighing down her bag even now. The only hope she had for redemption was to hand it, and everything she knew, over to the people who were out to get the ones who killed Mac, and she was determined to do that even if it ended up getting her killed. She had honestly cared about him, although she never really knew whether she loved him or not. Sometimes she thought she did, but there were times when she thought about leaving, getting away from his schemes and the risks they brought.
She had known without any doubt that he loved her, though, in his own way. Bringing the people who killed him to justice was the only way she had left to thank him for that love and for all he had done to try to make her life better, and that thought had become more important to her than the thought that it might even save her own life.
They pulled up to a beautiful house on the outskirts of Grand Junction, and Pat came around again to open her door. As she started to slide off the seat, he instinctively held out a hand and she took it, then held onto it for a moment longer than she needed to.
As they entered the house, Becky was struck with how lovely it was, but then she saw that every wall, every table, every empty spot held a photo. There were pictures of Pat’s children in various stages of growing up, but the majority of the photos were of the woman who must have been Maddie, the wife he had loved and still seemed to mourn.
“How long were you together?” she asked, and then instantly wished she could take the words back.
Pat smiled. “Thirty-six years,” he said. “Rhonda, there, she’s our oldest. That’s Pat Junior, Eliza, Mickey, and Polly, she was the youngest. They’re all grown and gone, now, but they all live close by except for Mick. He’s in the Air Force, down in Texas.”
“A beautiful family. I think we would have had kids, me and Mac, but we were always working on getting more stability and never got around to it.” She stood in front of one of the photos of his wife. “She was beautiful. That smile, it’s probably the most genuine smile I've ever seen.”
“She smiled all the time,” Pat said. “Even when she was mad at me, or when things weren’t going right. She was smiling all the way through the cancer, and she was still smiling when her eyes closed for the last time.” He sniffled and turned away for a moment. “Hey, it’s only a little after four. You already ate, I know, but would you like something to drink? I can make coffee, or I got some soda in the fridge, or there’s harder stuff around if you want.”
Becky wasn't big on alcohol, but suddenly the thought appealed to her. “I don’t suppose you could make a margarita?”
Pat suddenly beamed from ear to ear. “I bet I can,” he said. “Maddie used to love them, and I have one now and then just to remember her. Have a sit, little darlin’, and I’ll be back in a flash!”
Becky laughed. He disappeared toward what she figured must be the kitchen as she dropped her bag beside the couch and sat down on it. She slipped off her boots and set them beside her bag, and then turned her thoughts to Mac.
I miss you, she thought, trying to send the message out to wherever his spirit might be. I hope you’re watching over me, but I hope you don’t think I’m being stupid. This man is nice, and I think I’m safe here for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll get to Denver and Windlass, and then I’ll figure out what to do after that. If they find me, I might be coming to join you soon, but I hope you’ll forgive me if I try to avoid that for as long as I can.
Pat was gone for a few minutes, then returned with a large glass in each hand. “You don’t mind if I join you, I hope,” he said. “I promise, I’m not the kind to get drunk and act stupid. One of these is my limit.”
Becky looked at the size of the glass he handed her. “I’m not worried about you getting drunk,” she said with a grin, “but this is probably gonna make me get a little silly. Let me know if I get too out of line, okay?”
The old man smiled again, and it seemed like the sun came into the room. “No problem, there,” he said. He sat in a recliner beside the couch and took a sip of his own drink as Becky tilted hers up.
“Mmm,” she said. “That’s good.” She looked at him. “So, tell me about you. Were you a bartender at one time or another?”
Pat laughed. “Oh, no,” he said. “Maddie taught me how to make these the way she liked them. No, I was in the Army for nearly thirty years, only retired when I got hit by shrapnel in Afghanistan six years ago. I was a special agent of the Army’s Criminal Investigation Division Command, sort of like a police detective. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when ISIS tossed an IED at a bunch of us. Tore up my left leg and my guts, so I had to retire. Now they worry that some of it they couldn't get out might move into my bloodstream and cause me to have a heart attack, so I go for an MRI once a month. That’s why I got to go over there tomorrow.”
He’s a cop, Becky thought. Be very careful what you say, girl! Make a mistake, and he might call the police on you yet!
“That’s cool,” she said. “That you were a detective, I mean, not about the shrapnel. Is it something really serious?”
“Docs don’t seem to think so. They say if it moves, it’ll be slowly, so they can catch it before it gets to be a danger. There hasn’t been any movement so far, though.”
“Well, that’s good. You’re too nice a guy for anything bad to happen to you.” She took another drink from her glass. Was she imagi
ning it, or was she starting to feel a little buzz already? “What do you do to keep yourself busy, now? You don’t just lay around here, do you? Got a girlfriend or three?”
Pat choked as he sipped his own glass. “Girlfriend? Now, who do you reckon would have an old goat like me? I ain’t even had a date since Maddie passed on, though I’ll confess it ain’t been for lack of trying. Just seems like all the women I like are either married or already got a beau.”
There was definitely a buzz going on, she thought, and that reminded her of why she rarely drank tequila. Mac had always teased her about it, because every time she had a bit too much of the stuff, she would end up dragging him to the bedroom and using every talent she had to make him glad he came along.
“Pat,” she said softly, “why are you sitting over there? Are you afraid I’ll bite?”
Pat cleared his throat. “No, I just didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to crowd you,” he said. “I mean, especially after your recent loss, and all.”
Becky smiled at him. “I appreciate that,” she said, “but there’s an old saying that I remember my mama telling me about.”
Pat moved onto the couch, keeping a good six inches between them. “What’s that?” he asked, and she heard the huskiness in his voice as he did.
Becky set her glass on the end table beside her and turned to face him, then leaned close and put an arm around his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. “She used to say, ‘there’s only one way to comfort a widow.’ Do you know that one?”
Pat swallowed hard. “I've heard that, yessir,” he said.
Becky leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do you think it applies to widowers, too?”
Please forgive me, Mac, she thought, and please understand.
10
Doctor Cheng looked up as the two women entered his office. Mrs. Ping, the chief engineer of the company, was accompanied by the younger woman from the BCI laboratory. Davidson, that was her name. She was also an engineer, and a very competent one, but the look on her face told him that she was displeased about something.
“Good morning, ladies,” Cheng said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The two of them took their seats in the chairs in front of his desk, and Mrs. Ping bowed her head to him.
“Angela wished to see you,” she said. “She has concerns over the new project that she wished to discuss.”
Cheng turned to the younger woman, his smile steady and strong. “Ms. Davidson,” he said.
Angela swallowed nervously, and looked to the side. “Doctor Cheng,” she said, “I wanted to talk to you about—well, about that secret project stuff. I know you went to great lengths to get all of that, but I really think we would have been better off just continuing our own research. I’m so close to success at writing data, it’s just—I hate the thought of throwing away all that work to use a system somebody else came up with.”
Cheng nodded slowly. “And how long until you have achieved that success?”
“Well, I can’t say with absolute certainty,” Angela said. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be more than another few months, though. I’m very close, I’ve managed to duplicate and transfer learned behavior between monkeys, almost perfectly. We trained a donor monkey to perform certain tasks, and I was able to transfer the knowledge to a recipient monkey, and she could do it almost as well as the original. With a few more months of practice, I can get this down to the point that I can write information directly into the brain, using micro EMF instead of LED light pulses. I know the LED people have gotten ahead of us, but micro EMF has so much more potential that it’s…”
Doctor Cheng held up a hand. “Ms. Davidson,” he said. “I am fully aware of your research, and I do not doubt that it has potential. However, we have acquired a system that is already fully functional and has been proven to do everything you hope to achieve. If you do not wish to continue working on the project, that is up to you. However, we have decided to discontinue your efforts toward achieving these goals in favor of using the system that is already successful.”
“But, Doctor…”
“I do not believe that I have spoken in any way that should be confusing. You will put your own research on hold for this time, and begin developing a chip based on the technology we have acquired. This is not a request, but a command. If you refuse, we will be happy to provide you with a generous severance package. Of course, you will remain bound by the agreement you signed when you were employed, prohibiting you from revealing any information you learned while in our employ.”
Angela’s eyes were wide. “But, but, I don’t want to leave. I just think it would be a mistake to…”
“I believe we have nothing more to discuss,” Cheng said. “Please return to your duties.”
Angela stared at him for another moment, then got up and walked out of the room. Cheng turned to Mrs. Ping.
“Do you believe she will cause trouble?”
“No. She will do what she is told. She is simply feeling the pain of injured pride. The boy, Chang, is no match for her as an engineer, but she is being forced to accept his guidance on this project. It displeases her, but not so much that she would leave us.”
“Very good. Now, what about the other situation? How is our benefactor responding to our refusal to proceed with his plans?”
“He seems quite angry,” Mrs. Ping said. “He feels, not unjustly, that we have an obligation to complete the agreement we made with him. He has not yet reached the point of making threats, but is still attempting to negotiate with me. I am allowing him to believe that we might reconsider, but I do not know how much longer he will accept my promises to reconsider.”
“He is powerful,” Cheng said. “I have tried to convey to our directors that he could be capable of causing us great difficulties, should he so choose. They do not, unfortunately, consider him enough of a threat to give up the potential profits we would lose by agreeing to his terms. Have you been able to determine his identity?”
“Not yet. I am still trying, but he has created quite a veil between himself and the world. The name he has given himself is sufficient to strike fear into many hearts, and I’m afraid he will continue to be a problem if we do not give him what he wants.”
“What kind of threat does he pose? Surely he knows that exposing what we have done would only ensure that he would never see his desires realized.”
Mrs. Ping closed her eyes for a second, then looked at the doctor again. “He has achieved many things in the past few months that most would have believed were impossible. I am afraid that, should we continue to refuse him, he will come to regard us as merely a small obstacle in his path. He has demonstrated that he has a great deal of power and influence, and it is possible that he could bring about the end of our company. I would urge our superiors to reconsider, before he comes to believe that we are simply in his way.”
Doctor Cheng sighed. “I shall continue to do so,” he said. “Until then, do all you can to keep him appeased.”
*
The small charter jet touched down at San Francisco International at just after five PM, picking up an hour from the time zone change. Steve, Walter, and Summer thanked the flight crew as they disembarked, and the two men stood and stared at Summer as the crew walked away.
Stanley Harper was waiting for them as they reached the charter entrance to the terminal, holding a sign that read simply, “Windlass.” He quickly took Summer’s bags from her and led them out to where he had parked.
“I’m really excited you guys are here,” he said. “The whole place has been in shambles since all this started. Dr. Williamson, he was a super guy, and I still can’t believe he did this. You think you guys can find out who killed him?”
“We’re going to try,” Steve said. Summer had agreed to let him be the spokesman while they were together, so that she could watch how people reacted to the things he said and asked. “I think we’ve got a pretty good chance, to tell the truth.”
“Good. Here we are.” He pointed to a Mercedes Sprinter with the C-Link logo emblazoned on the side. “This is our business shuttle, but Dr. Prentiss told me to get a car ready for each of you, if you need it. They’re back at our office garage.”
“I’ll need one,” Steve said, “and so will Ms. Raines. Mr. Rawlins will be with me at all times, so he won’t need a car of his own.”
Stanley nodded. “Okay, no problem. I've got a couple of Cadillacs all ready to go.”
He opened the side door on the van and let them get inside, where they saw that the machine was set up like a mobile conference room. There were only six seats, in two rows that faced each other across a central table. They sat and buckled the seat belts while Stanley placed Summer’s bags inside and then went around to get behind the wheel. The driver’s compartment was separated from the passengers, but they heard his voice over a speaker in the ceiling.
“There’s a bar back there, if any of you want a drink. Or the fridge is stocked with pop and juice. Help yourselves. It’ll be about thirty minutes till we get to the company’s HQ. We’ll get you the cars, and then you can go to your hotel rooms.”
“Actually,” Steve said, “Walter and I would like to get started right away. We’ll need to see the clean room the chip was taken from as soon as we arrive.”
There was a moment of silence. “Um, I’ll have to see if that’s possible,” Stanley said. “They usually lock everything down around five.”
“I’m sure you can get hold of someone who can make it possible,” Steve said confidently. “After all, that’s why we’re here, and the sooner we get started, the more likely we are to find that chip.”
“Um, yes, sir,” Stanley said.
Summer grinned at Steve. “You should let me handle him,” she whispered. “I’d have him eating out of my hand.”
“You’d have him melted all over the floor,” Steve whispered back. “We need him able to drive, at least for a few more minutes.”
