Involuntary Control (Gray Spear Society) (2 page)

He gave a small combat knife to Norbert. The six inch blade was lightly serrated and painted black. Aaron took the same kind of knife for himself.

"Finally, we come to what I call the 'deep shit' piece. This is the one you grab when you're in deep shit."

"An assault rifle?" Norbert said.

"It needs to be somewhat concealable. We'll be walking around in public. In your case I'd go with hand grenades. They don't require a lot of finesse."

Norbert took two fragmentation grenades from a box on the floor. Aaron grabbed a MP9 Tactical Machine Pistol and packed the clip with explosive tipped ammunition.

"Sir, is all this firepower really necessary for a simple investigation?" Norbert said. "What if the police search us?"

"The gun you leave behind will inevitably be the one you need the most. And I'd much rather be in jail than dead. If you're arrested, what are you supposed to do?"

"Nothing. Keep my mouth shut and don't cause trouble."

"Right." Aaron nodded. "We'll get you out of jail, even if we have to bust you out."

He helped Norbert position his weapons under his suit so they wouldn't cause a bulge. They left the armory and walked down the central corridor to a sporty, black sedan. Aaron reached inside and took the keys out of the ignition.

"This will be our car. I asked Nancy to pack the trunk for a two day excursion." He held up the key. "However, if I open the trunk with the key, the car will explode. Forcing or picking the lock will have the same result. There is only one safe way to get inside that trunk. Let's see if you can figure it out, but be very careful."

Norbert walked around the car and examined it. After a few minutes he knelt down and looked underneath.

"I see buttons near the rear bumper, sir, but they aren't labeled."

"Numbers are etched into the surface," Aaron said. "They are meant to be felt, not seen. The combination is the first four prime numbers: 2, 3, 5, 7. We use the same code for all our vehicles and safe houses. Go ahead and try it, but if you press the wrong button..."

"The car will explode. I understand, sir."

Norbert closed his eyes as he felt around underneath the car. After a moment the trunk popped open. He smiled.

Aaron looked into the trunk. "Let's see what Nancy packed for us."

He pulled out several suitcases and placed them on the ground. Norbert opened the first and found it full of hundred dollar bills.

His eyes opened wide. "That's a lot of money."

"Cash is the universal lubricant. You can't have too much."

Norbert went through the rest of the luggage. He found surveillance equipment, spare clothes, extra weapons, and a briefcase full of various fake identification.

"Seems like we have everything we need."

Aaron shook his head. "You're missing one critical item."

He took his phone out of his pocket and held it up. It was much bulkier than most cell phones and covered with gray metal.

"My phone!" Norbert said. "I left it in the kitchen."

"Get it, now."

Norbert ran off. He returned a moment later with his phone in hand.

"That's your lifeline to the Society," Aaron said. "You use it to call for help, and we use it to find you. It has all the apps you need to survive. It's more important than any gun. If you ever leave headquarters without it, or lose it, I will personally give you a beating you won't forget. That's no joke."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron nodded. "I have to say goodbye to Marina, and then we'll leave."

"I saw her in the kitchen."

Aaron headed towards the west end of the building, passing more parked vehicles along the way. A drop of water splashed his forehead. He looked up and saw a rusty crack in the metal roof.
Damn,
he thought.
This place is going to become an icebox when winter comes. We'll have to seal it somehow.

He walked into the large kitchen, which also served as the dining room and occasional conference room. A line of four plastic picnic tables ran along the right wall. Two different kinds of cheap cabinetry covered the left wall. There were two giant refrigerators and a free standing sink. Exposed white plastic pipes were strapped to the back wall. Marina stood at a large, wooden table in the center of the room, which Nancy had built by hand. That table was the only good surface for food preparation.

Marina had showered and was wearing only a gray bathrobe. Damp red hair lay across her shoulders. This was her home as well as her office, so her informal attire was understandable, but he wished she had pulled her bathrobe a little tighter. The rest of the team didn't need to see her breasts.

She took a bite of a sandwich.

"I'm leaving now," he said.

She nodded. "Bye."

"No kiss?"

She angrily took another bite of her sandwich.

"I'm not happy with you, either," he said. "I have to lead this team, and I need everybody's respect to do it. You can't undermine my authority every time you don't like my orders."

"I was just stating my professional opinion."

"If you had stated your opinion that way when Ethel was here, she would've separated your head from your shoulders. Am I right?"

She chewed her food and stared at the table.

"Well?" he repeated loudly.

"Yes, sir."

Obviously, he wasn't going to get that kiss. He turned and left.

* * *

Three hours later, Aaron drove through Lemonseed, Illinois. According to the sign on the highway, the population was 815, but it seemed even smaller than that. The "downtown" area was just two blocks long and consisted of maybe a dozen buildings. There was a bank, a Dairy Queen, a discount store, and a post office. Homes and businesses stood side-by-side with no clear zoning. A small library was the only structure with any architectural flair, and everything else was just boxes made of bricks with shingles on the roof.

Aaron had put Kaitlin Simmons' address into the navigation system and was directed to the west side of town. He entered a neighborhood made of small, widely spaced homes. Many of the residents had dirt lots instead of lawns. A gang of young teenage boys was playing football in the street, while a group of girls whispered to each other a short distance away. The land was perfectly flat, but plenty of trees broke up the visual landscape.

"I'd die of boredom if I lived here," Aaron said.

"I like how peaceful it is," Norbert said. "It feels safe."

"Don't let your guard down. We don't believe in safe."

"Yes, sir."

Aaron arrived at a white house with a red roof. Brick columns in front bordered a narrow, shaded porch. A spinning sprinkler watered a patchy lawn. Judging by the size, he guessed the place had at most two bedrooms.

"Let's review our cover stories. I'm Special Agent Kerns from the Counterintelligence Division of the FBI. And you are?"

Norbert appeared serious. "Special Agent Mullen, national security liaison."

"Don't slip and use my real name. Don't even think it. Out here, Aaron and Norbert don't exist. Let's go."

Aaron stepped out of the car. The loud buzz of insects droned from all directions. Thin cloud cover glowed orange in the evening sunlight. July in the Midwest was normally a sweaty time of year, but the last few weeks had been unseasonably cool and pleasant. He was grateful because headquarters had no air conditioning.

He checked that all his weapons were in place. Norbert followed his lead and did the same.

Aaron walked to the front door with the bold stride of a federal agent on business. He knocked loudly.

A woman with curly brown hair answered. She had a pleasant, rounded face with light freckles. She wore a buttoned shirt and a long beige skirt.

"Hello?"

"Are you Ms. Kaitlin Simmons?" Aaron said in a demanding tone.

"Yes. Who are you?"

He flashed his badge. "Federal agents, ma'am. We have to talk to you."

He went inside the house without waiting for an invitation. The small interior was cluttered with knick knacks, but the hundreds of items were neatly organized on long shelves. He smelled fresh tomato sauce.

"What's going on?" she said. "Is something wrong?"

Norbert stood in the doorway and pulled his jacket back to reveal his gun. He put his hand on the grip of his weapon.
Nice touch,
Aaron thought.

"Yes," Aaron said, "something is very wrong. On the twelfth of this month, you received a wire transfer for eight hundred dollars. The money came from an anonymous bank account in the Cayman Islands. It was just one of several suspicious transfers in the last week. Tell us who is paying you, and why."

The blood drained from Kaitlin's face.

"I strongly suggest you answer the question immediately," he added in stern tone.

She abruptly sat down on the arm of a couch and stared into space. Her body was shaking.

"We know you work for White Flame Technology, and they do a lot of classified research. You're looking at federal charges of espionage, at a minimum. If you start cooperating now, you might avoid life in prison."

She put her face in her hands and cried. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I needed the money. My father is sick and the hospital bills are piling up..."

"I don't care. Who paid you?"

"I don't know!" Tears flew out when she shook her head.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"We communicated through e-mail. He never told me his real name. I don't even know where he lives!"

She made choking noises and wiped snot from her nose. Her eyes were red and puffy. He let her calm down a little before continuing.

"Exactly what did you sell?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know!"

He snarled. "Stop jerking me around!"

"It's true!" she said. "He gave me software to run inside the White Flame network, behind the firewall. The software stole the secrets, not me."

"Let me get this straight. You ran malicious software on a classified computer system without even knowing what it did?"

She nodded.

"Unbelievable." He shook his head.

"I have this!" She ran to a shelf and opened a tea pot shaped like a smiling, black cat. She took out a USB thumb drive the size of a postage stamp. "All the data is here. Every byte."

He accepted the thumb drive from her. "Did you look at it?"

"It's locked and encrypted. My computer won't open the files."

Aaron knew enough about computer security to know that encryption was a problem. When used properly by an expert, it was effectively unbreakable.

"So, you can't tell me what you stole or who you stole it for. Can you at least tell me how much you were paid in total?"

"A hundred thousand dollars," she said softly.

He hadn't expected such a big number.
How much of that was stolen from bank accounts?
"Let me see those e-mails."

"You can't. They were deleted."

"By you?" he said.

"No, they vanished right after I read them. They didn't go into the recycle bin, either. I checked." She shrugged. "I think the guy hacked my computer to get rid of the evidence. That thumb drive is all I have."

He gritted his teeth with frustration. "But you must remember the e-mails. Did he give any hints about his agenda?"

"No." She shook her head. "He gave me all the money up front to prove he was real. It was so easy. I just had to stick a gadget into my computer at work."

"Huh? He already paid you?" He stared at her in disbelief.

"Every penny. I was about to start paying off hospital bills when you knocked on the door."

He furrowed his brow. "That doesn't make any sense. You haven't delivered the goods yet. What are you supposed to do with this?" He held up the thumb drive.

"A courier will pick it up tonight at nine."

Aaron paced the room as he considered his options. His gaze settled on an antique porcelain doll under a glass bell jar.
Ugly little thing,
he thought.

He gave the thumb drive back to Kaitlin. "You'll deliver this to the courier as planned. We'll be watching. I'm warning you, if you try to escape or screw this up, years will be added to your prison sentence. You'll come out an old woman, if you come out at all. Understand?"

She nodded with wide open eyes.

He looked at Norbert. "Let's go."

The two men headed towards the car. Aaron glanced back and saw Kaitlin standing in the doorway with a very anxious expression.

The evening air was so pleasant he didn't want to get into the car yet. He stood by the driver's door and spoke to Norbert. "There was a lot wrong with her story."

"You think she was lying?" Norbert said.

"No, I believe she told the truth as she knew it. She was too terrified to lie convincingly. That's not what's bothering me. What do we know about the perpetrator so far?"