by Nesly Clerge
“I was going to ask you.”
“I’ll give it some thought, but I’m mostly blank about that. Probably because it’s so damn hard to believe. Seems to me, whoever it is needs to somehow slip up in a way we notice.” Connie helped me pick up the cups and place them on the credenza. “Changing the subject, I got a puppy.”
“I’m glad. What kind?”
She smiled. “Irish setter. Called him Irish Too. T-O-O.”
“You must hate being away from him.”
She leaned against the credenza. “Yeah. With all that’s going on—your promotion and all, okay if I bring him here?”
I grinned. “Absolutely. He’ll be our mascot.”
“Call if you need something.”
Alone, I stared at Patricia’s desk and chair for several moments before taking a seat. Hours later, I’d, at a minimum, perused every file label of every manila folder in her office, as well as every computer document label, knowing it would take days to read through everything. It would take months to know most of what Patricia had known about the organization, anything on paper or electronic, that is. I had no doubt there were other things she knew that had not been committed to paper or computer document.
I did come across rough notes regarding Patricia’s ultimate plan to move women into leadership roles around the world, but nothing concrete. No clarifying bulleted list or strategic outline to guide me. I called Agatha.
“Was a strategy ever firmed up regarding Patricia’s master plan to attain WAM’s goal?” I clarified which goal.
“We tossed around ideas but never landed on a fixed strategy. Why?”
“I found notes. They’re incomplete, more like brainstorming. I’d hoped you could tell me more.”
“We were still in the early stages about that. I’m sorry, Katherine, we just had an emergency arrive. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I leaned back in the chair, regretting that I hadn’t pushed Patricia for more details or her thoughts. Regretting that my chance to tell her my own brainstorm would never happen.
That’s when I recalled the drawer with the metal box filled with cash. It wasn’t money I was after, it was more about making sure it was still there and to see if anything else important was inside.
I followed her process and opened it. Inside was a small envelope with my name on it. She’d secured the flap and edges with tape. It took a while to carefully open the envelope so as not to tear the paper it contained.
Inside were instructions as to how to find her hidden safe. In the note, Patricia stated that no one at WAM knew the safe existed. I locked the office door and returned to her desk. Following the instructions, I stood to the left of the center drawer and felt around on the left inside panel of the recessed part of the desk, an uncomfortable position that caused me to question what she was up to. My fingers reached a raised square with a button at its center. I pressed the button. A small hidden drawer sprung forward from beneath the center drawer, hence the need to be out of the way.
Only one item was in the drawer—a tiny cassette tape.
I needed a recorder, and was certain I should listen to the tape alone. Knowing Patricia, it could contain information about anything.
CHAPTER 79
It was six fifteen. A little under two hours before my time with Lauren would start. I shoved the tape down far in my front pants pocket, put everything back, hidden as I’d found it, turned off the computer, and moved at pace to my car parked out front. I drove to the nearest store I thought might have recorders for that size tape—it did. I purchased one, and batteries. The next stop was a drive-through for a hamburger. Then to a nearby park, where I put the batteries into the recorder and listened while I ate.
Patricia provided a list of names of women, members of course, who were located around the world, and enough of their biographies to familiarize myself with their specific contributions to the organization. Their membership wasn’t a secret, only the true level of their involvement, and this secret was to remain sacrosanct.
The tape held fifty or so minutes of content. I’d thought that, after looking through her filing cabinets and computer, I had a grasp of her responsibilities and interactions, but what I’d reviewed was the proverbial tip of the iceberg.
Toward the end of the recording, Patricia said, “Katherine, I made this tape for you right after I began to train you. You’re listening to it, and that means you’ve now taken over for me because it was time, or something unanticipated has happened.”
I used one of the paper napkins from the burger place, since, once again, I had no tissues with me.
“In the bottom drawer of my middle filing cabinet, all the way to the back and behind the folders, you’ll find a USB flash drive Lavender jazzed up for me, as well as for the women listed in this recording. The USB is taped to the back of the space-adjustment thingy inside the drawer. Whatever program she loaded onto it allows you to send and receive encrypted messages to and from these women via computer.
“You start the communication by using a key you type in. Ours is a symmetric key, meaning we all have the same key, known only to this elect group. But for extra protection, Lavender set us up with a password authenticated key exchange, PAKE for short. That way, we can each be assured that the person we communicate with is the person we are meant to communicate with.
“We use a 4,022-bit key to get the encryption request started. You’ll find that key and the PAKE one on a card taped to the underside of the drawer above the one with the USB. Whenever you use that information, be certain to return that card to the same spot. Same for the USB. Unless you come up with a better hiding place. Never let anyone find either, but definitely not the card.
“When a message goes to one, it goes to all. That was our agreement. Always use this computer encryption as your sole method to communicate with them. Don’t worry, so far, we’ve seldom had cause to use it.
“Sorry if you find this message redundant. I know what a steel-trap memory you have, but I thought it best to make sure you had this as back-up. I’ve already explained to you the circumstances that must exist for you to reach out to them and when to do this. And that you’re not to discuss this with anyone. I know you’ll follow my instructions. Love and hugs, my dear.”
I stared open-mouthed at the recorder then slammed my hands against the steering wheel. She’d planned to explain all of this to me long before I took over. I’d have to figure it out for myself, just as soon as I figured out what to figure out.
I returned to Patricia’s office and put the tape back in the safe drawer. A quick trip to the filing cabinet drawers allowed me to confirm the USB and card were where she’d claimed. Afterwards, I went to the facility to cuddle and care for Lauren, whispering many things to her as she stared into my eyes as though fascinated by every word.
The next day, I made certain a letter went out via e-mail to every WAM member, announcing Patricia’s passing away and my taking her place upon her written request. I read every response. To a woman listed on the tape, they sent their condolences about Patricia and welcomed me as their new leader.
***
Connie found me in my office the next morning. She’d brought Irish Too to meet me. I fawned over the adorable puppy, who was around the same several-months old as Irish had been the first time I’d seen him.
Connie tossed a tennis ball across the room. Irish Too scampered after it. “You’re WAM head now,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You’ve adopted a daughter.”
I looked from the puppy to her. “This is going somewhere.”
“I want to set up secured living quarters for you inside here, and select security teams for you and Lauren.”
“I see your point. Can you have a space ready by the time she can leave the facility?”
Connie grinned. “Sooner than that. I’ve already started. A furnished suite of safe rooms will be ready by tomorrow. I suggest you sleep in one of the underground beds tonight.”
“Always thorough. But I’m spending it with Lauren.”
“I’ll assign a detail at the facility. I want no mistakes. Not if I can help it. Favor?”
“Name it.”
“Let that little guy stay in your quarters with you, once you move in. He’s housebroken, and I’ll get security to walk him. You won’t have to do more than feed and water him. And play with him and give him loads of affection. Just when you’re there. The team and I will do the rest.”
“Of course. Lauren won’t appreciate him until she’s older, but they’ll enjoy each other eventually.”
“That’s one less thing to worry about.”
“How long is your list?”
“Probably as long as yours.”
CHAPTER 80
The next several months passed more like a whirlwind than moments linked together by a ticking clock. I still had no idea who the mole was, but neither had we had another attack at headquarters or, thankfully, at any of our other structures. My encouragement about this remained limited. The original elite team, or a new one, might prefer to let us grow lax, comfortable that the threat was long over, and then return.
Connie and several women, hand-picked by her, were in charge of my security, though I didn’t reveal any of Patricia’s secrets I was to keep. At times, I felt alone, being able to trust people only so far, but my caution was necessary. It even became necessary to take care with what I said to Lauren, who would one day start to utter words then sentences.
At the end of August the following year, I cut the ribbon at the opening of the Patricia Hill School of Early and Higher Learning. Lauren received star treatment in the nursery part of the daycare center. No one commented about my toddler’s security team inside and outside the room. At least, not that I heard about.
The first time I brought her there, I gazed around the room, at the children, and wished Patricia could see this aspect of her dream fulfilled.
I’d turned twenty-nine mid-April. Lauren had turned one in May. I was head of WAM, had opened a school, and was the additional mother to a puppy whose antics caused laughter to bubble or erupt out of Lauren—a sound that made my cells shimmer every time.
This reality was so far removed from my Cabrini-Green days, it almost made those earlier years seem as though I’d dreamed them.
Almost.
School and daycare staff I approved had been scrutinized and carefully selected by Connie and her security team, with the assistance of the tech fairies digging deep into applicants’ pasts as recently as the day prior to their first interview.
Lavender sat on the office sofa with me, her eyes fixed on Patricia’s favorite chair, which no one ever thought to occupy. “I think we should continue to monitor the new staff’s activities.”
“The vetting was more than thorough.”
She shrugged. “Still. At least until we’re convinced of their loyalty.”
“How long might that take?”
“I don’t know.” She flashed a smile. “Twenty, thirty years maybe. I think that’s probably what we should do for every new person and member. Wished we’d started that a couple years back.”
I kept my expression as unremarkable as I could. “Did someone say something to you?”
She pulled at a loose thread on her jeans seam. “I’ve been able to add two plus two and get four since I could crawl.”
“Meaning?”
“Only one way those bastards knew what they did, and it wasn’t because Patricia told them.” She made eye contact with me. “You know it too, don’t you?”
I got up from the other end of the sofa and walked to the window. Caitlin’s tree had grown a couple of feet, its young, outstretched branches laced with leaves. “Do we have the resources to do that on a consistent basis?”
“Won’t take me any time to write a program that makes it easy to track anything they do online and by phone. It’s not full surveillance, but it’s something, especially if they have no idea it’s going on. Better safe and all that.”
I turned and faced her. Patricia had trusted Lavender enough to set up the encryption method. “How did you and Patricia connect? I never asked and she never volunteered the information. If you don’t want to answer—”
“She found me in an alley. I’d run away from a sexually abusive family member. I was a kid and alone. Filthy. Smelly.” Lavender looked away. “Didn’t stop her from taking off her cashmere jacket and putting it on me.”
“So, you’re the one.”
Her eyes met mine. “Yeah. She put me up in her guest bedroom. Fed me. Clothed me. Listened to me, once I felt safe enough to talk—make that trust. No one else had even wanted to look at me. Couldn’t get away fast enough when I begged for spare change.”
“And your computer skills?”
“Once she learned I had a keen interest, she got me the best training anywhere. I did the rest on my own. We spent a lot of evenings talking about her plans for WAM.”
“Do whatever you think needs to be done. I’m sure if you detect anything as off, you’ll let me know.”
“Count on it.”
I leaned back and fixed my eyes on the ceiling.
“Something’s on your mind. What?”
“I need a laboratory.” I glanced at Lavender. “It has to be as secure as what we have here. Sizable. I was just wishing I’d realized this before the school construction began, or even was completed, though I’d prefer it to be in this building. I’ll have to consider an addition, but wish it could be underground as well. That’s not feasible.”
“Would 2,500 square feet be enough space?”
I sat up and faced her. “Definitely.”
Her lips stretched into a smile. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER 81
Lavender led me through the laboratory then into her workspace. We continued to the less-well-lit back of the room, where shelves littered with supplies and spare and antiquated equipment lined large portions of two walls. In that corner was a gap between the ninety-degree angle formed by the end shelves. She pushed on a panel like the one in the office and a door sprang open.
“It’s not so much that it’s a secret,” she said, “but that we mostly ignore it’s there or forget about it. Patricia said to use it only if it became absolutely necessary.”
She reached in and flipped on a switch. I followed her inside.
“It’s perfect,” I said. “Large enough for my purposes. More than enough space, actually. Secure. Private enough, as long as I can make it clear no one is to enter without my consent.”
“Easy to do. Those of us who work down here can make sure of it.” She raised the back of her sweatshirt and pulled out an automatic pistol. “Connie armed and trained us. You know, in case someone manages to breach the other security measures. I’ll add, in case anyone tries to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.”
With the help of Lavender and Connie, I equipped the room with all I needed within two months. Four months later, I stepped into my laboratory and cursed at the sight before me.
The latest experimental female chimpanzees had died, like the others before them, as had the female mice before them.
I’d intended to accomplish this task on my own, but the truth was I needed help so conferred with the scientists at headquarters. None of them had a desire to switch focus, but each provided five or more names of women to consider who were members and had the required credentials.
I put my project temporarily on hold while I gave my attention to accruing physicians with a scientific bent, or vice versa, to assist me. Using Connie and Lavender and all our resources, after six weeks, I’d hired eight women from the U.S. and various parts of the world, all single, all childless with no intent to change this. All dedicated scientists on board with WAM’s ultimate goal, my specific goal, and their terms of employment.
With a few modifications done by a thoroughly vetted team of members who had construction skills, a dorm-like room was created in my lab, with enough be
ds for each of us, an equipped kitchen, three bathrooms, and a big-screen TV connected to a secured satellite dish positioned on the roof.
The women worked in shifts around the clock. I worked as few nights as possible, but on the ones I did, Lauren’s security team acted as sitters. At three every afternoon, they’d take her from daycare to our secure quarters. Connie was in the process of creating a number of safe rooms on each floor there and at the school.
Involving more brains in the lab than just mine proved invaluable. We modified the existing non-lethal, non-steroidal, anti-inflammatory COX-2 inhibitor enough so as to reduce progesterone levels by an even greater percentage than the original formula. This prevented implantation of a fertilized egg as well as inhibited ovulation in our experimental mice, though produced no adverse effects on the eggs. As expected, our new formula proved more efficient. Empirical tests of the original formula we modified had determined the effects were reversible. We calculated it would be the same for the new one.
After several successes with mice, we advanced to chimpanzees. As with the mice, their ovaries ceased to release eggs, or if an egg did get released, it had no nourishing uterine tissue to take root in. The males caught on to our process and would screech and yank on the cage bars when it was time to mate with the females. My fellow scientists observed this part of the process with impassive expressions. I did my best to hide my disgust, or else suddenly had to use the restroom or do something for the duration. If they noticed my consistent absence during such times, they kept it to themselves.
At that point I split the team into two groups—one to focus on this part of the equation, the other to begin to find a way to fulfill the more complex one.
We were ready to advance to testing our formula on human females. The other part of my goal would have to stay with chimps for a while. I fully believed it would be successful, so had two of my scientists work on a formula to reverse the inability for women to conceive, while the others assisted me. As in nature, the remedy plant is usually within a few feet of the poisonous one, so I believed the solution was close at hand. The scientists I assigned to work with me to find a way for male chimps to conceive stayed on task.
