The Archangel Drones (30 page)
“What about finding out who sells such equipment and tracking down who made a purchase in our area?”
The commissioner responded, “My technical guys think this specific unit is homemade. They’re unaware of any commercially available drone that has the same capabilities. We’ve seen image stabilization, infrared, zoom-capable cameras, and very fast response times. This isn’t a machine someone ordered from ‘Drones Are Us.’”
The mayor, riding Karen’s coattails and furthering her agenda, sounded from the head of the table. “I suggest our esteemed law enforcement begin an immediate investigation into the matter. Since I’ve been elected to this office, there have been many times I’ve been advised, ‘Things will turn up; they always do.’ While I never know the details of how that occurs, somehow… someone seems to make it happen. All I can say is let’s hope this is another example.”
“I don’t think there is any need for cloak and dagger here. We should go public with this,” the chief decided. “Maybe someone has seen the drone’s handler or can provide a tip. I suggest we open up to the press and see what kinds of responses we get.”
No one seemed to have an issue with the idea, so the mayor gave her blessing. “I’ll have our PR people provide a statement, Chief. You’ll have it by this afternoon.”
The meeting adjourned a short time later, Karen neither pleased nor disappointed in the outcome. On one hand, she had more information than before, and that knowledge reflected a positive light on her mood. On the other, she was going to have to begin prosecuting cops, and that was a huge negative hanging over her head.
Gabe knew they would be coming. The public outcry over his videos was dictating the news cycle, with everyone from the ACLU to an assortment of police unions joining the fray.
It was amazing to watch the lines being drawn, the list of those supporting his endeavor as surprising as those who opposed. One thing was consistent and predictable, however – the cops weren’t happy campers.
While he’d taken every step to ensure secrecy, Gabe was sure they’d eventually find him. Everyone makes mistakes, and the creation of Jacob Industries had been a complex gauntlet to navigate. While he was sure Adam wouldn’t violate the sacred attorney-client privilege, somewhere, somehow, they’d track him down.
The trick was to delay the inevitable until he’d garnered enough support to fight off the onslaught of a pissed-off justice system. If he could get the people behind him, his chances of surviving the attack were greatly improved.
And so far, the results had been positive.
National commentators were going on the record in support of the “Houston Archangel,” as one nightly journalist had dubbed Gabe’s alter ego. But support wasn’t unanimous. More than a few noted newscasters and legislators had expressed concern about personal liberties and raised the now common debate about intrusion into the privacy of all Americans. The military had been using drones for years, as had the U.S. Border Patrol. Those activities, combined with the NSA’s notorious spying, had raised all kinds of concerns. The Gripen had merely marshalled the argument into a new phase of reality.
Fear of copycats was something Gabe hadn’t anticipated. Police departments all over the nation were on high alert, voicing their concerns that the public would be at risk if every cop hater in the country began filling the urban skies with machines that could target law enforcement.
Today, these machines are only carrying cameras, but tomorrow it could dive bomb a hostage negotiator,
one top ranking police chief grumbled.
Even the feds got involved, the head of the FAA holding a news conference warning of harsh penalties and jail time if that agency’s regulations were violated. Gabe had to smirk when the bloated Washington bureaucrat warned of the dangers involved, even going so far as to state, “When one of these hobby machines drops an airliner full of innocent people, the operator will be charged with capital murder.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gabe had snapped back at his television, “the cops are killing far more people per year than are riding on any one airplane. We’d have to drop an entire fleet of airliners to equal the death toll, so just shove it, buddy.”
Now that the authorities had figured out his operation, it was time to take the next step, and that meant mobility.
There was one event that could potentially tie Gabe directly to the drones, and that was someone spotting the G-1 returning to its home base. If a random witness reported such an observation to the authorities, his strategy to rebalance the scales of justice would be blocked in a matter of hours.
Jacob Industries’ new office complex was the perfect solution in all regards, with one exception – JI was the building’s only tenant. Even the dumbest detective could figure out that a multi-level, commercial building should command more than one vehicle in the parking lot.
The only solution Gabe could envision was varying his base of operations – going mobile. He’d considered having multiple locations to launch and land his flying robots, but in the end decided that would only increase the odds of discovery. No, the smart money was on mobile launch and retrieval.
Fortunately, the Gripen was a slight machine that didn’t require massive landing facilities. Its battery charger plugged into any wall socket.
With all that in mind, he’d arrived at a simple, effective solution – the pickup truck.
The drone would easily fit inside the bed, the flying machine’s amazing stability more than capable of touching down in the confined area. The truck was obviously mobile and hardly noticeable given the number of similar vehicles that plied Houston’s roadways on any given day.
Having settled on a strategy, Gabe soon found himself at the truck accessory store, shopping for some sort of cover for his pickup’s bed. The number of options was dizzying.
He could buy soft covers, hard covers, electric covers, and folding covers. There were models from a variety of manufacturers, some even providing matching paint jobs. Who knew?
Finally picking an electrically operated roll-up model, Gabe perused a popular hunting magazine while he sat waiting for the installation to be completed. He glanced up from the page when a familiar voice sounded from the door.
“I thought that was you,” Chip announced, moving over to shake Gabe’s hand. “How the hell are you, stranger?”
After recovering from the mild shock, Gabe stood and returned the greeting. “Chip, it’s so good to see you. Oh my God, what’s it been? Seven, eight months?”
“At least,” replied Manny’s father. “I’ve started to pick up the phone and call you a dozen times, but you know how it goes. Amanda and I were so upset after Jacob’s funeral… and it took months before Manny got over her grief.”
Gabe nodded his understanding, “I feel the same way, Chip. I’m a little embarrassed that I’ve let so much time pass by without at least calling to say hello. So what’s going on? How is everybody?”
A sad expression flickered across Chip’s face, but only for a moment. “Things were a little rough there for a while,” he stated in a low tone, moving closer to keep the conversation private. “I lost my job after being arrested, you know. Amanda and I had depended on my income to keep our heads above water. For several months, I thought we were going to lose the house and everything.”
Puzzled, Gabe frowned. “I thought all the charges against you were dropped? You lost your job?”
Nodding in disgust, Chip snarled, “Yeah. Our company had a policy about arrests. Can you imagine that? And then there was all the time off fighting city hall. Who knew – right? Anyway, by the time I cleared my name and paid for a blood-sucking lawyer, Amanda and I were broke. I took a job here, installing truck covers just to make ends meet. It was the only thing I could find, the only place that would even talk to me after finding out I had an arrest record for assaulting a police officer.”
Gabe was shocked and embarrassed that he hadn’t checked up on his friend. “I’m so sorry, Chip. I wish I had known. I might have been able to help.”
“When I heard about your settlement, I thought about asking you for a loan, but then I remembered about all those stories you read… the ones about people winning the lottery and every half-baked relative and former acquaintance appearing out of nowhere with their hands extended. I just couldn’t do that.”
Again, Gabe felt terrible. Chip was an honorable guy who had done the right thing. Without his help, Jacob Industries and the drones would still be a dream.
“Didn’t you file your own suit?” Gabe asked, trying to salvage some of his own personal dignity.
“Yeah, we did. It’s still pending, but I don’t have much hope. There wasn’t any video showing what the cops did to me, and that weakens my case considerably. The city is stalling, filing motions to reschedule, and all kinds of legal mumbo-jumbo. I don’t hold out much hope, and the expense is killing us.”
“How’s Manny doing?” Gabe asked, wanting to change the subject.
“She’s doing well in school, making some inroads to try and live a normal life. Jacob’s death tore her up pretty good, Gabe. There for a while, her mother and I were worried she might try and follow him… if you know what I mean.”
Before Gabe could say anything, a voice sounded from back inside the shop’s garage area. “Hey, Chip, the truck in bay number two is ready for ya.”
“Gotta run,” Chip said. “I can’t afford to lose this job. It was great talking to you, Gabe. I’m glad you hurt those son of a bitches… glad you hurt ’em bad. Give me a call sometime, would ya?”
“Sure, Chip. I promise.”
And then he was gone, leaving Gabe in the waiting area, alone with his thoughts.
Retaking a seat, he ignored the magazine that had previously held his attention, so angry with himself that he could only stare at the floor. “What a self-centered piece of shit you are, Gabriel Chase. How uncaring and selfish can a man be?”
He’d been so wrapped up in revenge, so consumed with his own problems and issues. Any idiot would’ve realized that his family wasn’t the only one being wrecked by the events of that night. Even the most antisocial fool would have at least called and checked up on the other victims.
For a moment, he tried to displace the anger and remorse, making a vain attempt to transfer part of the blame to Chip and Amanda. But it wasn’t righteous or fair. If nothing else, the Dentons had shown unbelievable honor and respect by keeping their problems to themselves. “Now that’s a true friend and a big man,” Gabe whispered to the empty lobby. “What a stand-up kind of guy.”
It then occurred to Gabe that perhaps fortune was on his side, yet again.
Chip would be the perfect employee for JI. The man was obviously motivated against ruthless law enforcement, having direct knowledge, and firsthand experience of the problem.
Not only was the man honest and upstanding, his actions that night had shown guts and a capability to handle pressure.
But would he be interested in such a dangerous endeavor?
“It won’t hurt to ask,” Gabe finally mumbled.
Before long, the shop announced that his truck was finished, the new bed cover installed and tested. As he sauntered out to the parking lot, Gabe spied Chip working on another vehicle in the bay. He strolled over and said, “Hey, Buddy, what time do you get off today?”
“Around five, unless a job holds me over.”
“Can I pick you up at quitting time this afternoon? I have a business proposition for you… one I think you’ll like. Let’s get together over coffee and talk it over.”
Taking a step forward with a smile, Chip said, “Oh, Gabe, I didn’t mean to lay a guilt trip on you. You don’t owe me a thing. I appreciate the thought, but you’ve got your own troubles.”
Gabe shook his head, “No, this isn’t a guilt trip. Seriously, I’ve been looking for someone to help me with my new business venture, and after we just talked, I realized you might be the perfect fit. Please, sit and talk with me for a few minutes. If you don’t think it’s a good match, then no harm, no foul.”
It didn’t take Chip long to think it over. “You buying?” he asked with a grin.
“Sure am. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Okay, cool. I’m not in a position to pass up a free cup of coffee. I’ll see you around five.”