by T. K. Harris
Before Ken could wipe the perplexed look off his face and ask a question, Alex launched into the story of finding the information on Tommy's router and his later conversation with Jason, and then Jason's 'encounter' with the FBI. He then mentioned what Bill had told him, and finished with the strange online conversation he'd had himself with the group known as 42.
Ken took a seat, silent as he tried to digest. Slowly, he asked, "So are you saying Ben’s story is true? You think the FBI has my son and it’s because he was hacking?"
Alex sighed, taking a seat across from him. "It’s really starting to sound like that, Ken."
"When will you know for sure?"
"I don't know. I've been asking around as directly, yet discreetly, as I can with no luck. I'm hoping we'll have something within the next week or so."
Ken rose and began pacing the room as he felt his temper rising. What Alex had told him gave him hope that his son was alive. But thinking about what Tommy could have done to bring the FBI down on him had his stomach in knots. It was like he was on some twisted, emotional roller coaster from hell. That's what the last several weeks had felt like. A damn roller coaster.
Finally he turned on his brother. "If this is true, I’m blaming you!"
Alex's eyes widened. "What?"
"I said, I'm blaming you. You're the reason Tommy decided to go after this major in the first place! You and your need to always play the cool uncle, filling him with stories of all your exploits until you turned the kid's head. And now look what might have happened?"
"Oh come on, Ken. Not that again. Seriously. Just because the kid didn't choose to go into the oh so exciting world of financing-"
The anger and frustration that had been building in him for the last several weeks came pouring out. Ken stopped in front of his brother, punctuating each of his next words with a stab of his finger to Alex's chest. "This. Is. Your. Fault! And you damn well better fix it!"
Alex jumped up, his face reddening. Ken could see him struggling with his emotions, his fists clenching and unclenching. He suddenly hoped Alex would take a swing. He needed something to hit.
Alex seemed to struggle a few moments longer until one emotion won. Sighing, he sat back down and looked up at his brother. "Ken. You know I would never do anything to hurt Tommy. I love that kid. I would do anything for that boy."
Ken looked down at his brother's stricken face, his anger fleeing as quickly as it had come. It left him feeling drained and deflated. Ken knew what Alex was saying was true.
Suddenly weary beyond anything he had felt before, he dragged himself behind his desk and collapsed into his chair. Burying his face in his hands, he tried to stop what came next, but couldn't. The last several weeks of not knowing and not being able to find Tommy or help his wife or even sleep had taken their toll. For the first time in a long time, Ken did something he swore he would never do. He wept.
A few moments later, the weight of his brother's hand on his shoulder began to anchor him and, slowly, the tears subsided. He took a few deep breaths, chuckling slightly as a tissue box was pushed in front of him.
"It's a good thing Karen wasn't here to see that little display," Alex chided lightly. There was a pause before he added, "Otherwise she would have realized I really was the brother she should have married."
Ken shoved his elbow into his little brother's stomach, laughing for real when he heard Alex grunt. "You keep on dreaming, bro. And don't even think about trying to use what just happened as blackmail either."
Alex held up his hands, a very unconvincing look of sincerity plastered on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Ken smiled, shaking his head. "Listen, you really think the FBI could have Tommy?"
"I'm checking, Ken. I'll let you know as soon as I know"
"Should we go to the police about this?"
"We don’t really have anything to give them. Not yet anyway. Just keep doing what you're doing, and maybe your PI can look into some things as well."
"Will do. Speaking of which. You know we've been doing local ads on the air about Tommy’s disappearance? Well we're thinking of putting out commercials on a larger scale and-" He looked up at Alex as he said the last. "Offering a reward."
"Ken, I thought you said the ads had just brought a lot of dead ends and quacks out of the woodworks. Won't this just make it worse?"
He shrugged. "Probably. But it’s the next logical step. And, if what you say is true, it might force the FBI's hand and make them come out publically. At least then we'll know."
Alex shook his head. "I don't know, Ken. I've heard and seen too many things go wrong, and almost none go right once a reward is offered."
"What do you suggest I do then?"
"Give me some more time? Do your commercials. I get that. But hold off on the reward. Just for a few more days at least. Please."
Commander Lee had said much of the same.
Ken gave a sharp nod. "Fine. But you've got a week. Every day my son is gone makes our chances of getting him back slimmer and slimmer. And I don't think Karen can take much more." He looked down at his hands. "I'm not sure how much more I can take either."
He felt his brother's hand on his shoulder once more. "If he is with the FBI. I'll find him."
Ken heard the conviction in his brother's voice and nodded. "Let’s just hope it happens soon."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Days! It had taken Barrett nearly four days to set up and transfer all his money to another set of off shore accounts. He still couldn’t believe they had threatened to take away what he had earned just because they didn’t want to start over and do it the right way.
Bastards!
And now they were relying on him to 'fix' it by coming up with lies.
As he paced in front of the two-way mirror watching the doctor question Thomas Moore in the common room, he wondered why she even bothered. All week he had listened in on each of the interrogations and group interactions, hoping to catch something that sounded real but had heard nothing. And the doctor hadn't done anything that had helped. He grew more agitated thinking about the lack of information and just how little of her esteemed reputation had proven true. Everywhere he was surrounded by incompetence!
He was about to walk away when he heard a discreet cough behind him. Unclenching his jaw, he turned.
"Yes, Agent Stone?"
"Sir, we think we found something, on the guy you asked us to look into deeper after we gave you his initial background check."
"This one of the guys we had a talk with?"
"No, sir. Those guys are definitely not in the same league as Alex Moore. Alex Moore is…"
"What?"
"Well, we’ve been following him, checking into his background, investigating his place of work and his apartment, although we didn’t risk bugging it. And, let’s just say we have more than enough reason to believe the NCCIS may just be a daytime front for him."
She now had Barrett’s full attention and, at his impatient prompting, Stone launched into a detailed background of the countries Alex had visited and some educated guesses as to why he might have been there in the first place. Then she talked about a few hacker attacks it looked as if he may have participated in. When she finished, Barrett was feeling slightly optimistic.
"And do we have enough?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll see what we can do to bring him in then."
"Yes, sir."
Barrett dismissed her with a wave and watched as the agent hurried away, his thoughts on what this information could do for his project.
Maybe his investors hadn’t turned their backs after all.
Turning back to the mirror, he waited for the doctor to leave and then stepped inside the interrogation room.
He stared for a moment at the drugged kid lying on the couch. Somehow, Thomas Moore was at the center of all of this, and Barrett didn't believe for one second that it was for the reasons the kid kept repeating during questioning. But with an uncle that ha
d the background Stone had just outlined, things started making more sense.
He asked a few simple questions and then, convinced the kid was well drugged, launched into a series of detailed questions about his uncle. With each answer, Barrett's excitement grew. It was beginning to sound like this Alex Moore just might be the ring leader he'd felt they had been missing.
Moments later, Barrett emerged with a slight smile and an eagerness he could barely contain. Sure, they might have to throw in a few lies to make up for the missing evidence but having someone like Alex Moore lent the whole series of allegations more credibility. And, it told him that maybe this group wasn't as innocent as the lack of evidence said. They were just very good at covering their tracks.
Either way, he would know soon. With the Director of the FBI on his side, he didn’t think it would take more than a few days – if that – to get permission to bring Alex Moore in. Now he just needed to get Gillespie to wait patiently until then. With the holiday coming up, this shouldn’t be a problem, as Gillespie would be kept busy making strategic, political appearances.
At least, that’s what Barrett told himself. Just a few more days.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jane followed several people into the hotel elevator and rode it to the rooftop, a wine glass and bottle in hand. The firework display was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes and, though her heart wasn't in it, she thought it might be good for her. So did Foxxy, who she'd been speaking with up until a few hours ago when Foxxy had signed out on her/his way to another big 'part-A'. Jane shook her head, smiling at some of Foxxy's outrageous remarks. It was sad that Jane's current best 'friend' was someone she'd never met. It was even sadder that her virtual friend was also her only friend.
Making her way through the already crowded rooftop, Jane found a relatively open spot near one of the walls. As she settled in, she tried for a moment to let go of the mounting resentment she had around being forced to continue drugging and questioning the detainees, even though she knew she would get nothing more from them.
When her jaw began to ache from clenching her teeth, Jane forced herself to relax, instead turning to scan the crowd as she waited for the show to begin. Standing on either side of her were several couples, laughing and smiling together, holding or kissing each other. Groups of friends and even a few families with small children were scattered around the roof. Jane rolled her eyes, wondering why anyone thought a casino town, even one this small, was a good place to bring children.
Her eyes kept scanning the crowd, looking for what, she wasn't sure, until she realized that there was not one other person standing alone. Just her. Jane sighed. It wasn't anything new. But it was getting old. And slightly depressing.
Deciding that watching all the happy people was only further bringing her down, she turned to look over the small, yet surprisingly prosperous town. Her thoughts began to wander back over her conversation with Foxxy.
Jane smiled.
Jane laughed out loud. Leave it to Foxxy to turn anything into sex talk.
Jane remembered first thinking about what she might do and how her heart had started racing. But each day with Tommy and the others had only solidified her conviction until she was no longer afraid.
Jane wasn't sure what frame of mind she needed to be in, but she was pretty sure it did not involve the need to wear spandex or leather. She typed the same to Foxxy.
Foxxy went on with a few more comments, each more outrageous than the other, until Jane was in tears from laughing so hard. By the time Foxxy signed out to head to another of her seemingly endless stream of parties, Jane was feeling much better. But that was usually what happened when she chatted with Foxxy. One day she was going to have to look Foxxy up and actually meet him/her face-to-face.
Music began to play, pulling Jane from her memories. Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd as the 4th of July celebration started. As the first of the fireworks began to light up the sky, Jane opened her bottle of wine, poured herself an extra-large serving and leaned back to enjoy the show.
Tomorrow, she would go back to figuring out just how she was going to help free the four detainees.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tommy looked down at his shoes as his sleep deprived mind tried to ignore Wayne's ranting. Despite the seemingly thick walls in his cell, he had been kept awake the night before by the sound of small explosions that seemed to last for hours. It had taken several minutes for Tommy to recognize what they were. Fireworks. The realization that it was the Fourth of July sent him spiraling towards depression.
A month.
He'd been here nearly a month. His mind filled with thoughts, wondering what his family was doing, if they knew where he was. And, the fact that he was missing one of his family's favorite holidays. He had spent the rest of the night trying to console himself by remembering what past celebrations had been like, when his parents readied the large backyard and invited over all the neighbors, and every family member that they could convince to fly to Colorado for a huge barbeque party.
They had games for every age and, as the adults started drinking, some of the kid games became the best events to watch as the tipsy adults joined in and tried to outdo each other. Every year, his uncle and dad had to take a go at each event, trying to see not only which brother was the best, but who could win each game the most outrageously. Tommy smiled, remembering the one time his uncle had decided to 'run' a race completely on his hands, a jester cap on his head. He was actually getting ahead of Tommy's father until he started going too fast, lost his balance and ended up toppling into a cooler full of beer. Tommy remembered his dad hopping over, still holding one leg behind him, pirate wig and patch askew as he stood over his water soaked younger brother, gloating.
Tommy wondered if he would ever get to see them again.
Wayne's raised voice brought him abruptly out of his memories. Tommy rolled his eyes. Over an hour or so ago he had been led back to the room where he'd first met the other captives. At first it had been quiet. Awkwardly so. They had said a few things to each other, but mostly remained lost in their own thoughts as they stared blankly at the pixelated screen of the TV. Occasionally a baseball game wavered in and out of focus.
Eventually, however, Frank had started asking Tommy more questions, which had set off Wayne. First he had ranted at Tommy for getting them all arrested and beaten, and then jumped up screaming in Tommy's face until Frank had pulled him back. Then he had started in on Frank until he lost steam. When he got his second wind he started ranting about the doctor and the 'damn commies running this country.'
At some point, he had wondered out loud where they might be, as they had been able to hear the fireworks. This had sparked off a debate that eventually led
to an argument. Now, he was listing out all the many things wrong with the US government.
Wayne paused in his tirade. "Damn Iraqi, what are you doing now?"
Tommy looked up to see that Uday had taken one of the small white towels provided in their cell, and lain it on the floor where he proceeded to kneel. He watched, fascinated, as Uday bowed his head to the ground several times while beginning a quiet chant in a language Tommy did not recognize.
"Stop that, you damn rag head! This is fucking America. We pray to God here!"
"Shut the fuck up, Wayne," Frank interjected. "This is America and that means we get to pray to whomever we please."
Wayne spun on Frank. "Who died and made you boss? He doesn't have to do that shit here and now does he? You don't see me fucking praying and carrying on in public."
"That's probably because the only thing you ever pray to is a bottle."
Tommy snorted.
Uday's litany grew slightly louder as he continued to touch his head to the floor.
"Just shut the fuck up, can't you pray in silence at least?"
Tommy watched as Frank laid a hand on Wayne's shoulder. "Why don't we just have a seat before they put us back in our own cells? As much as you guys annoy me, I get tired of listening to my own breathing."
Tommy could see the whitened knuckles on the hand Frank was clutching Wayne's shoulder with.
Wayne gave Frank a hard look, his mouth working as if he had something to say but couldn't decide where to start.
Start at the beginning and when you get to the end, stop. Tommy choked back a laugh at the thought. Now where had that come from?
When Wayne turned to him, Tommy hid the laugh with a cough. Wayne shook off Frank’s hand and went over to one of the chairs. Tommy noted that Uday's praying had gotten much quieter now that Wayne had shut up.
