The Gillespie Five (A Political / Conspiracy Novel) - Book 1 (42)

by T. K. Harris

  After the long, late night drive from the airport on Monday, she had slept a few hours and then woken and driven to downtown Denver to spend the day on 16th Street Mall. The drive from the hotel had been both inspiring and frightening as she had been torn between the surreal mountain views and the massive amount of traffic - not as bad as California - definitely intimidating. But despite today’s meeting, she had somehow managed to relax as she walked around window shopping, eating, drinking, and people watching. Especially people watching. She wasn’t sure yet if the most interesting character had been the man covered in trash bags screaming about how everyone was ruining the earth, or the man on the Segway dressed like a very colorful pimp. Thinking about it now brought another smile to her face.

  This morning she had woken up refreshed, if agitated, and it had taken all the patience she could muster to enjoy her breakfast and try to relax. Moments after breakfast she gave up on the relaxing part and pulled out her laptop. After setting an alarm so she didn’t work past the time she needed to leave, she rapidly lost herself in her work. Now, as she spotted the coffee shop, she began wishing she was still at her hotel working.

  As Jane scanned the streets on either side she began to realize that she wasn’t going to find a parking spot nearby. She smiled a bit as she congratulated herself for adding the extra buffer of time. It had never failed her in the past. She was just beginning to relax, the smile still on her face, when it began to dawn on her that she was going to be forced to parallel park. Her smile fled in the wake of the cold terror that suddenly shot through her.

  Jane frowned as she searched and finally found a spot on the busy street. Parallel parking was not something that came easy to her and it took several attempts, accompanied by impatient honks from the cars stuck behind her, before she was able to finally pull successfully into the small space. She waited several minutes as the angry drivers passed by, hoping none of them were heading to the same place, before hopping out and grabbing her laptop bag. The warm air, much cooler than the desert she had been in, enveloped her. She hesitated, looked up at the clear blue skies and wondered if she should bring her jacket. She had been warned that Colorado had mercurial weather and, if you didn’t like it, you just had to wait fifteen minutes. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she grabbed her jacket, locked the car and proceeded down Platt Street toward the Paris café.

  When the entrance appeared, she stepped inside only to find herself suddenly plunged into almost darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she noticed that the place was actually a bar. Confused, she walked to the bar and asked the bar tender if he had coffee. He pointed over his shoulder, directing her to the back of the bar where she found a doorway leading to another area. It was there she found the coffee shop. And it was packed. After looking around, she realized the only place to sit was at a long common table.

  Reluctantly, she took a seat and tried not to appear nervous as she attempted to discreetly scan the room. She had pictured several scenarios of who she was supposed to meet, all of them resembling James Bond types in suits. But, though the crowd seemed to hold someone of just about every type, she found none that met the description in her head. Deciding she was looking too obvious, she opened the laptop so that she could pretend to work as she watched the people coming in and out of the café.

  As time passed, her agitation grew and she decided to distract herself with real work. Pulling up her notes, she went back to trying to organize them, only absently noticing the people coming and going. Eventually, as her notes absorbed her, she lost track of what was going on around her until someone moved close to her periphery vision.

  Glancing up, she noticed a slender, dark haired kid laying his motorcycle jacket down on the chair next to her. She didn't see a helmet.

  Stupid kid, she thought, wondering why anyone would ride a death on wheels vehicle like a motorcycle and not wear a helmet.

  She waited a bit, trying to be discrete as she watched him. When he made no contact she became a little irritated. How was someone going to approach her now with this kid sitting so close? She thought about asking him to leave because she was expecting someone but decided against it.

  The kid stalked slowly back to the coffee counter, moving with an animal-like grace Jane couldn't help but watch. Eventually Jane returned to her notes, only looking up again when he returned with a cup of coffee. The delicious smell wafted her way, making Jane realize she had already been here for over an hour and hadn't even had a cup of coffee.

  Deciding that getting a cup was now in order, she left her coat behind, took her laptop to the counter, and ordered an Americano. After dumping in her requisite four packages of raw sugar and stirring it within an inch of its life, she returned to her seat to find the kid had left. Sighing in relief, she took an appreciative sip of her coffee as she sat down to wait some more.

  After another hour, Jane settled down to reading her notes and making corrections.

  "Ma'am?"

  The girl who had been working behind the counter looked down at her.

  "Yes?"

  "We're closing in five minutes."

  Jane looked around and noticed the place was all but deserted. Confused, she then glanced at the clock on her laptop. Her eyes widened at the time. "Oh! I'm so sorry."

  "No worries. Take your time."

  Jane gathered her things, putting on her coat and wondering what had gone wrong.

  Maybe she had gotten the wrong place or time? Maybe it was next Wednesday?

  As she walked to her car, she reached into her coat pocket for the keys and felt something else as her hands closed around the keys.

  Pulling her hand out, Jane stared at her keys and the two black devices in her hand.

  When had these gotten there?

  Her mind flashed to the kid who'd come in earlier. He'd been the only one to sit anywhere near her.

  Well, package delivered, she thought.

  Now she just had to figure out how to get these near Gillespie and Barrett's computers. Taking a calming breath, she thought about the appointment she'd scheduled with Gillespie at his office tomorrow morning. It just had to work.

  011000110110111101101110011100110110001101101001

  Yuri looked at the number on his phone and sighed. "What is it?"

  "Hey bro! What's hanging?"

  "Get to it, Gregor."

  "Dude, you seriously need some help."

  "Just give me your report."

  "Fine. The doctor has somehow managed to have as boring of a day as she does back at the hotel."

  "What did she do?"

  "Sat all damn day in an internet café-cum-coffee shop-cum-wine shop. Didn't talk to anyone. Nothing. It's ridiculous. Why would she come all the way back to Denver to do that?"

  "Are you positive she did not meet or speak to anyone?"

  "Yep. Even had someone follow her into the bathroom. Zip, nadda, zilch. Seriously this chick is as boring as you are. Hey! Maybe you two should hook up, you know? I mean you could-"

  Yuri hung up, staring out one of the large windows that overlooked the river. Doctor, doctor. What are you up to?

  The sound of footsteps echoing down the long hall interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find his head of security walking toward him. Yuri said nothing until the man stood in front of his desk and gave a quick bow. Yuri motioned with his hand for the man to speak.

  "Sir, the information you requested on the unwanted visitor is complete." He reached into his coat pocket and handed Yuri a flash drive.

  Yuri accepted it, plugging it into his laptop before asking, "Any change in the families positions?"

  "No, sir. But they are impressed so far with the momentum you’ve managed to build. They are watching."

  Yuri nodded his head slowly, careful to keep his smile to himself. It would not look good to show triumph this soon in the game. He moved to dismiss the man when his head of security hesitated.

  "What is it?"

  Hesitantly, the man asked, "Sir, I woul
d like to understand why we are not eliminating the intruder immediately. It seems a gamble to allow him to live."

  Unlike most men in his position, Yuri appreciated when his people asked questions. It meant they were going beyond their typical duties and striving to be better. It also gave him a chance to teach, and he loved sharing the strategy lessons he had spent a lifetime learning. Especially with one of the family.

  Giving the man a small but appraising smile, he answered, "Sometimes, sacrificing the pawns – while seemingly easier – is not always the best answer. Sometimes those pawns, unexpected as this one might be, can be used to forward the attack in unexpected ways. I want to see if this pawn can be used to do just that."

  "And if he can’t?"

  "We’ll eliminate him."

  Nodding, the man left. Yuri turned to open the files on the flash drive and began to skim through them. Most of the information he already knew. What he was looking for was something that he could leverage. Fifty pages in, he found it.

  Chapter Fifty

  Jane licked her lips nervously as she walked to the senator's office. She just needed to buy some time, she thought. No big. This wouldn't be a problem. Taking a deep breath, she tried to fight off the exhaustion from too many sleepless nights. She had spent the previous night reading up on and watching videos of the senator and had been somewhat surprised that she was actually beginning to like the man. He didn't seem at all like someone who would allow American citizens to be railroaded just for the sake of his political career.

  "Get a hold of yourself, Jane. He is a politician after all."

  "Excuse me?"

  Jane looked up, startled to find that she had walked all the way into the senator's outer office. People milled about speaking to each other or on phones in busy but hushed voices. The muted sound reminded her of a beehive.

  What must be the secretary, stared at her with confused iciness. Jane suppressed a small shudder at the woman's expression. Nothing worse than trying to get past the guard dog set to keep as many people away from her owner as possible. Not even the soldiers she'd had to deal with compared.

  I wonder if she barks on command.

  The thought made Jane giggle, which only served to increase the concern on the secretary's face. As she reached for what appeared to be a security button, Jane blurted out, "I'm here to see Senator Gillespie. I have a 10:30AM appointment."

  Belatedly, Jane realized she had announced this rather loudly. As she looked around, she found that many of the people had broken off to stare at her. Swallowing, she gave them a wan smile and turned back to the gatekeeper/guard dog, who asked, "And you are?"

  "Jane. Doctor Jane Lyndsay."

  The woman peered down at her appointment book. A moment later, looking somewhat disappointed, she removed her hand from the button and said, "Yes. I have you here. If you'll just take a seat, the senator will be with you shortly."

  Jane went back to wondering just how she was going to distract Gillespie long enough to place the device somewhere he wouldn't find it. Always one to be distracted when she couldn't readily find her answers, she began listening to the conversations that had picked back up around her.

  Jane could hear that many of them were calls from reporters to get more information about the detainees, the current status of the senator's campaign against hackers, updates on the increasing hack protests and questions of legality, as well as the senator's take on a variety of questions leading up to the presidential campaigns. The answers the senator's staff gave were repeated in a tone that suggested they'd been memorized and said often enough that it looked as if the staff easily managed to multitask as they answered. No one seemed particularly concerned.

  The more she listened, the more she wondered if the senator really knew what was going on.

  Did she dare tell him?

  Don't be ridiculous, Jane. He's a politician. There's a good chance he not only knows but probably suggested or, at least, supported it.

  "The senator will see you now."

  Jane jumped up, startling the secretary again. Forcing herself to smooth her dress, Jane nodded at the secretary, who was now holding open the door, and stepped through to the senator's inner office.

  "Doctor Lyndsay! So good to see you."

  The senator came around from behind his paper strewn desk, walking toward her to extend a hand. When she moved to accept the handshake, he covered her hand with his, looked her directly in the eyes and gave her a warm smile. She found herself easily returning it.

  "Thank you for seeing me, Senator Gillespie."

  "Of course! I know what an important role you are playing in helping me bring down the scourge that threatens our great country. And please, call me Mitchell. Now, shall we?"

  Jane hesitated, trying to think of a way to distract him while she tried to find a suitable hiding place. Looking around the office, however, proved to make this a little easier than she had thought.

  "Doctor?"

  "Oh, my apologies Senator. I mean, Mitchell. Forgive me, but I was just noticing what interesting pieces you have here."

  The senator beamed, looking around at the variety of paintings, pictures, and various items of art and what looked like artifacts scattered on the walls and shelves of his office.

  "Thank you! Items gathered from my many journeys and dealings around the world. Please, take a moment to look around."

  "Thank you but I don't want to impose. I-"

  "Nonsense. Most people come in here with an agenda and never take notice. I rarely get to show them off!"

  Wondering if he could hear her racing heart, Jane forced herself to walk slowly around the room, making the occasional comment and only half listening to the stories the senator told about each piece as her eyes darted around nervously for a place to put the keylogger. She was beginning to lose hope when her eyes fell upon a series of small boxes, stacked one on another in a rather jumbled fashion. The boxes were made of dark wood and covered in intricate designs. The presence of dust around the edges let her know they were rarely, if ever moved.

  Her heart gave a little leap as she asked, "These are quite beautiful. Do you mind if I look at them?"

  "Ah a good eye. It has been years since I acquired these. By all means, take a look. I brought these back after a safari hunt near the Belgian Congo. I was following in the great Theodore Roosevelt's footsteps when I came across this small village. These were gifts given to me by the villagers who were grateful when we brought them meat from our kills."

  Reaching up, she carefully took one off the top of the stack. As she had hoped there was a small space behind the boxes. Trying to remain calm she pretended to study the small box. On the outside it appeared to have dancing monkeys. Their somewhat comical expressions made her smile in spite of her nervousness. Lifting the lid, she found the box empty except for what looked like runes of some kind carved on the bottom.

  "What are they?"

  He gave a small laugh.

  "That depends on who you ask. My translator posed the question and several of the villagers chimed in at once. One said they were boxes designed to hold curses, another insisted it was to ward off evil spirits, while a third claimed it was for catching dreams, to which his twin brother adamantly responded by calling his brother an idiot and stated that the runes were for ensuring your dreams would come true."

  Jane looked at the senator. He was smiling and his eyes danced with mischief. Jane found herself warming to his charm. It seemed hard to believe he could knowingly charge innocent citizens. But she kept her mouth shut, returning a polite smile.

  "Then they got into a contest of who could suggest the most ludicrous explanation. Drinks began to flow as the villagers placed their bets on different men and cheered them on. It took all night and by the morning, none of us remembered who had the best answer!"

  His laugh was genuine and hearty and Jane found herself laughing with him. Then she asked, "Did they really not know what they had made them for?"

  "No
. In fact, we finally discovered in the conflicting answers that the villagers had been given these boxes many years ago by previous visitors whose origins they had forgotten. When we discovered this we tried to give them back but they insisted we keep them as payment for the meat. So, there you have it. A mystery wrapped in a beautiful box."

  Remembering what she was there for, Jane tried to figure out how to distract Gillespie for a moment. She went with the first thing that came to mind and began coughing.

  "Are you okay?"

  She nodded and then asked for a cup of water in between the coughs. It was such a lame distraction she was sure he would see right through it. But it worked like a charm.

  As the senator turned to walk to the small refreshment bar she has seen in the corner, Jane quickly reached into her pocket, pulled out the keylogger and dropped it behind the boxes. She was just setting the box she had taken back on top of the pile, when the senator turned, carrying a small bottle of water.

  She thanked him as she took it, guzzling several swallows as her heart raced, wondering if she would be discovered. When she saw a look of concern cross his face, she took one last swallow and then said, "Thank you. I forget how dry it can be in Colorado sometimes."

  His face lit with understanding. "Yes. Quite. Although I am sure not as dry as some of the places you have been."

  She nodded. "This is true."

  "Tell me, doctor."

  "Call me Jane, please."

  He smiled.

  "Jane. If is not too personal, I am curious to know how a woman - and please forgive me if that sounds sexist - but how you came to be in your current field?"

  He motioned her to a chair and then took one across from her.

  She studied him for a moment, trying to ascertain if he were just being polite or serious. Finding no insincerity in his face, she told him the story of her cousin, trying to keep it succinct and unemotional. It wasn’t until he quietly handed her a box of tissues that she realized she had begun to cry.