Blackout (18 page)

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one he mainly worked on, I think. The desktop was just for playing games and stuff.'

'And the police didn't take that one?'

'I didn't tell them about it.'

There was a silence. Some cigarette smoke was drifting through the air. Josh knew what question he wanted to ask next, but decided to pause before pressing it. Better to wait, he told himself. She knows the question. She just doesn't know the answer yet.

'You said you were a soldier?' she asked. 'That you might have been looking for Luke?'

Josh nodded. 'I'm not going to kid around - I don't know who I am. But I think I was involved with Luke. I think he's out there somewhere. And I'm going to try and find him.'

'You want his laptop?' said Emily. 'You think that might help?'

'If there's something on it, we'll find it,' said Josh.

'Follow me,' said Emily.

She stood up and walked out of the room. Josh followed closely behind, with Kate beside him. He could feel his heart thumping inside his chest. This was the first real breakthrough: if they could find out what Luke had been hacking into, they would have unlocked a door.

Slowly, the jigsaw of who I am is about to be reassembled.

The midday sun was frying the scrubland outside the house. At least forty, Josh judged as he stepped out of the building. Emily's house was on an open stretch of plain, at least twenty miles from any hills, in a dip in the land: the heat gathered up each last atom of moisture, sweating it out of every grain of dust.

Boiling hot scrub. After the Gobi Desert this must be the cheapest real estate in the world.

The barn was just a shack, with some farm equipment that looked as if it dated from the 1930s rusting inside. A trailer was slung onto the back of a tractor, with a tarpaulin sheet

ik.

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stretched across it. Emily pulled it aside, taking out a sleek black Dell Inspiron. 'Here,' she said. 'This is what he used.'

Josh took the laptop under his arm. 'We'll bring it back,' he said.

'I don't care if you bring it back or not,' Emily snapped. 'Bring Luke back -- that's what I want.'

'I'll try,' said Josh.

Emily turned around and started to walk back towards the house. 'One other question,' said Josh. 'Who's Luke's dad?'

Emily looked startled. 'His dad?'

Josh nodded. Sometimes you asked a question without being quite sure why, or what the answer might be. When you are stuck in the middle of a mystery, you have to examine every angle. Otherwise, you'll never find the way out. 'If something has happened to Luke, maybe his father" was involved somewhere along the line,' said Josh.'Who was he?'

Emily looked at him contemptuously. 'It doesn't matter,' she snapped. 'That's private.'

Josh turned around. No point pressing, he realised. He was clearly stepping into dangerous territory. 'Well, if you ever think it might be relevant, get in touch.'

'Just bring him back,' said Emily. 'I just want him back with me, that's all.'

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ELEVEN

Tuesday, June 9th. Midday.

The coffee was steaming in a pot in the centre of the table. Josh took a long drink of the thick black liquid, refilling the cup as soon as he had drained it. The coffee washed down his throat, gradually sweeping away the tiredness that the dope he'd smoked at Emily's house had left in his system. He glanced out at the sweeping, empty scrubland. The sun was beating down, scorching the life out of everything beneath it, but a stronger wind was blowing today, sending vicious swirls of dust spinning up through the boulders, and clump of weeds rolling along the ground.

'We are the pilgrims, master/We shall go always a little further.'

Josh spun around. Marshall was standing in the doorway, a bottle of beer in his hand.

'Recognise it?' he asked, stepping forward into the room.

Josh shook his head. 'No,' he replied.

That wasn't quite true, he told himself. As he'd heard the words recited something had stirred within his mind. A shadowy memory of a long, concrete room. A barracks. Some men standing around. Another man shouting. A rainstorm.

They were just fleeting, disjointed images. You couldn't piece them together. They didn't make any sense.

'What is it?' Josh asked.

'The SAS,' answered Marshall. 'The Regiment's poem. You sure it didn't stir anything?'

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'Maybe something,' said Josh.

'Then that's who you are,' said Marshall. 'British special forces -- I was right.' He walked up to the front door, opened it and stepped outside. 'Heard you had quite an adventure with my two friends.'

Josh nodded.

'You know how to handle yourself.'

'I'm still alive.'

'You can't stay here,' said Marshall. 'There's going to be deputies crawling all over the county by the end of the day'

'Don't worry, daddy, we're going,' Kate interrupted.

Marshall looked at Kate and nodded. She looked different this afternoon, Josh noted. Calmer, more relaxed. Her skin was shining, and although she was trying to disguise it, there was the hint of a smile in her eyes. Josh wasn't sure what was behind it, but he hoped that Marshall wouldn't notice.

'Where?' said Marshall.

Kate placed a laptop down on the kitchen table. 'To find out what's on this. It belonged to Luke, that boy'

'You got anyone who can help us with this?' asked Josh, the question directed at Marshall.

The older man nodded, raking a finger through his grey hair. 'I know the guy you need. Lives up in Utah. About two hundred miles north of here. Goes by the name of Kessler.' He paused, as if searching around for something in his memory. 'Sam Kessler.'

'You think he will help us?' Kate asked.

'If I tell him he has to he will,' snapped Marshall.

'Then I'll pack a bag,' said Kate. 'We're leaving.'

Josh dug deep into the pocket at the back of his jeans. The previous pair was still stained with his blood, but he had borrowed another pair of Marshall's: at this rate, Josh noted, the older guy wasn't going to have much left in his wardrobe. He pulled out two pictures. They were creased and smudged,

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*5F

but still recognisable. They were stills from the video clips that Madge had given him yesterday, showing the leader of the group of men who had broken into the Motel 6. Josh felt sure that the men had been looking for him.

'This guy,' said Josh, his finger jabbing down at the table as he pointed at the man. 'Any chance that you or one of your friends might know who he is?' Marshall picked up the photograph, scrutinising the man portrayed there. 'Ugly-looking mother.'

'It would be better if I could find him before he finds me,' said Josh.

'And what makes you think that I might know him?' There was a dangerous look on Marshall's face, Josh realised. His stare was boring into him like a drill. For a moment, he wondered whether Marshall had heard him slipping into Kate's bedroom last night.

'I didn't say that -- I only asked if you might know who he was -- but you seem pretty well connected around here,' Josh replied.

A smile broke-out on Marshall's face, as if Josh was the funniest guy he'd ever met. 'You catch on quick.' He picked up the pictures, folded them, and tucked them into the breast pocket of his denim shirt. 'I'll see what I can do,' he said. 'Call me. I'll let you know if I discover anything.'

The road twisted down to the ranch house through a steep valley. It was no more than a dirt track, pitted with holes, and the suspension of tlje Mustang clattered as it bounced down the hill. 'Think he'll be pleased to see us?' said Josh.

'No,' replied Kate, with a curt shake of her head.

Josh looked out from the car. On one side the hills rose up towards the sky, but on the other side a flat plain stretched out for several miles. A river trickled along near the horizon: at this stage of the summer, it had dried to just a few inches of water. He could just make out some trees growing in a

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thicket about a mile away. A pack of semi-wild horses were watering themselves by the river. Otherwise, it was just grassland and scrub. There was not another building anywhere in sight.

This is about as remote as you can get within a civilised country. A good place to hide.

The house was just one storey, made from wood. A porch ran along its entire front. To the right there was a giant set of solar panels and to the left a fifteen-foot satellite dish pointed up to the sky. Electricity and TV, noted Josh. All a man needs to survive.

He hopped out of the car and walked towards the door. It was just after five in the evening, and the heat of the day was starting to ebb. From Ferndale, it had taken them four hours straight to drive here, heading due north up through Arizona, crossing over the state line into Utah, and turning due east, crossing another fifty miles until they hit Kanab, the closest town to the ranch house.

'Are you Sam Kessler?' said Josh to the man who opened the door.

The man nodded. To Josh, he looked at least fifty, with a face that bore the scars of a difficult life. His hair was black but had thick streaks of grey running through it. He wore it long, tumbling down over his neck, and he had a thick moustache that almost hid his mouth. His eyes were round, set close to his nose, and his jaw was thick with folds of fat.

'You're Marshall's friend?' said K^ssler.

Josh nodded.

'Then you better come in.'

Marshall had only given Josh the sketchiest outline of Kessler, and of how he'd come to know him. He'd been in Vietnam, but had then made a career for himself in computers, working for the big companies in Silicon Valley across in California, until a decade ago he'd moved out to

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this decaying horse ranch in Utah. He lived by himself -- his wife hadn't thought much of the wilderness and had moved back to California after a couple of years -- and supported himself by freelancing as a computer-security consultant. If local companies wanted someone to make their systems secure, Kessler was the man they turned to. 'If anyone can find anything on that computer, Kessler can,' Marshall had said to them just before they'd left.

'I'm grateful for your time,' said Josh, stepping into the hallway.

Inside, the hall had stone flooring and wooden walls. It was decorated with riding ornaments: saddles, stirrups, horseshoes and whips. Kessler led them through into the kitchen. There was no offer of coffee or even a glass of water: Josh decided that asking would be a mistake.

'Where's the kit?' said Kessler.

Kate took the laptop from its bag, putting it down on the table. Kessler glanced down, then raised an eyebrow. 'What's the problem?'

'It's empty,' said Josh. 'All the files have been erased.'

Kessler sat down at the table. He flipped open the laptop, switched it on and looked at the screen. 'Maybe there's nothing there,' he said. 'Maybe somebody just bought it.'

Josh sat down at the other side of the table. 'No, there "was definitely something there,' he said firmly. 'I think they deleted the files.'

'Who did it belong to?'

Kessler's stare shot up to meet Josh's as he posed the question.

'That doesn't matter,' said Kate quickly.

'It matters to me,' said Kessler. 'In my experience, computers are kind of personal. People don't like other people fishing around in their kit, the same way they don't like them breaking into their houses -- or screwing their wives.'

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Josh glanced at Kate then back towards Kessler. 'That doesn't matter,' he snapped. 'The guy this machine belonged to won't mind you looking at it. We're trying to help him.' Josh paused. 'Trust me.'

'Trust you?' Kessler laughed. 'I've only just met you -- how the hell am I going to trust you?'

Josh reached out for the laptop, snapping its cover shut. 'If you don't want to help us, that's fine. We're sorry to have wasted your time.' He started to lift himself from the seat.

'I'll tell Marshall that you weren't able to do anything for us.'

Kessler raised his hand. 'I'll look at it,' he said wearily. 'Give me a couple of days. I'll tell you if I can find anything.'

Josh placed the laptop back down on the table. 'Two days is too long,' he said. 'I need it done now. We can wait here while you take a look at it.'

'I work on my own terms or not at all,' said Kessler. 'I'll get to you as fast as I can. But this isn't Hackers-While-UWait. Take it or leave it.'

'I'll take it,' said Josh. 'Thanks.'

Kessler took back the laptop and put it on the side of the table. 'I'm going to give you a cellphone,' he said. 'It's a secure line. All traces of who it belonged to have been erased, and I'm the only person who has the number. Any message transmitted through it can't be traced. I'll call you on that when I'm ready'

Josh nodded. Kessler was clearly.a man who had plenty of clients who liked to keep their business very secret. 'Just make it as fast as possible,' he said. 'We'll be waiting to hear from you.'

Josh handed over two twenty-dollar bills to the clerk at the gas station, and waited for his change. He glanced out towards Kate who was sitting waiting for him in the

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Mustang. The sun was setting but the air was still hot and dry, and Josh added a couple of bottles of cold Coke and some biscuits to his purchases.

We're getting closer, he told himself. I can smell it. I may not know who I am yet but I know about endgames. And this one is starting to come together.

'You got a phone?' he asked the clerk.

'Out back, by the toilets,' said the clerk, handing across the change.

Josh started walking to the back of the gas station. An image was flashing through his mind. O'Brien, Morant and himself attacking an FBI agent as he stood at a urinal. Step carefully, he told himself. You don't want to get coshed while you're making a call of nature.

He fed fifty cents into the phone's coin box, checking the surrounding area as he did so. So far as he could see, it was empty. They had taken a back road through Utah back into Arizona, keeping clear of the Interstate in case there were any police checks at the state or county boundaries. The road was empty. Even at the gas stations there were only a few customers.