Chasing Ghosts (18 page)

Dagger tried to make heads or tails out of
the connection but he was coming up empty. He was still trying to
wrap his brain around what was in his neck. “I was told Cardinal
Esrey is taking a post at the Vatican. Certainly puts him close to
the Pope. Skizzy, you need to check more surveillance tapes of the
cardinal’s flights. Keep trying to identify the other guy. Maybe he
and the cardinal know each other.”

Skizzy held up another page. “Got some weird
numbers here that weren’t encrypted…41-30-31 100-47-30.”

Dagger had engrained those numbers in his
head. “Those are the numbers that were on that metal cover Doc was
taking to L.A.”

Skizzy paced, twig arms wrapped tightly
around his body. “That guy broke into your house then his clone
steals a flash drive from the cardinal. The flash drive has
documents with numbers connected to the thing in your neck. The
cardinal is connected somehow.” Skizzy spun 180 degrees and leveled
a beady eye on Dagger. “Tell me everything you know about this
company.”

Dagger stared back. “It isn’t that easy.”
When one of Skizzy’s eyebrows jerked, Dagger told Sara, “See what
else you can find out about Doc’s plane.” He motioned for Skizzy to
follow and Dagger led him up the stairs.

Once at the top, Dagger quietly slid the lock
across and closed the bookcase, locking Sara in the basement.

“
What are you doing?” Skizzy
asked.

“
Give me three hours. And whatever you
do, don’t let Sara out. I don’t want her following me,” Dagger
replied. He rippled his fingers. “I need a car.”

“
What? You got four or
five.”

“
All that Sara can
recognize.”

The squirrely guy’s eyes narrowed. “What are
you up to?” Skizzy slowly pulled a set of keys from a drawer as he
whispered, “You know what those numbers stand for, don’t you?”

Dagger wouldn’t confirm it. All he said was,
“Three hours.”

Sara watched the tape for the third time.
There was no mistaking that the BettaTec satellite shot down Doc’s
plane. How convenient that they waited until the plane was over the
desert, calculating with such precision to guarantee the wreckage
would fall into the lake making it impossible for the FAA to
retrieve parts to verify what went wrong. Dagger was right—these
people were dangerous.

Her eyes were drawn to the numbers again.
What could they refer to? Could only be serial numbers. She had
seen the metal lid Doc removed. There were two separate sets.

The sudden silence chilled her. Something
wasn’t right. What was taking Dagger so long? Where did he go? Sara
moved to the lit staircase and called out, “Dagger?” She noticed
the door at the top of the stairs was closed. Taking the stairs two
at a time, she reached the top and tried the doorknob. The door was
locked.

“
Skizzy?” Sara pounded on the door.
“The door is locked.” She pressed her ear to the door and listened.
Pacing, heavy breathing. Sara pounded again. “Dagger? This isn’t
funny.” And it wasn’t a joke. Skizzy was the one pacing. The steps
were frantic and in a tight circle…typical Skizzy. Dagger planned
to shut her out. But why? “Skizzy, I’m going to twist you into a
pretzel when I get out of here.”

Sara pressed her ear to the door again. Her
enhanced hearing picked up, “Oh boy, oh boy. What am I going to do?
Three hours. Dagger said three hours.”

“
What?” Dagger wouldn’t tell Skizzy to
keep her locked up for three hours, would he? “SKIZZY, OPEN THIS
DOOR.” Sara resisted the urge to pound her fist through the door.
It wouldn’t be hard. She suspected he also closed the bookcase but
she didn’t want to destroy Skizzy’s bookcase.

“
I can’t,” she could hear Skizzy
saying. “Can’t listen, can’t listen.”

She could imagine the skinny guy pacing with
palms pressed to his ears. This wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
Sara pounded down the stairs. The person she needed to communicate
with was Dagger but she had to shift first. Her eyes were drawn to
the cameras. There were four in the bunker, two in the staircase.
There wasn’t any way she could shift with camera eyes on her.

Three hours. What could he do in three hours?
Where was Dagger planning to go? Three hours would allow him a
pretty good head start. Her eyes were drawn to the numbers again.
“You figured it out, didn’t you, Dagger? You know what the numbers
mean.”

She wheeled her chair over to a second
computer and keyed in the numbers in various combinations. This
wasn’t going to be easy. These could be reference numbers, biblical
passages. Was Dagger planning to confront the cardinal?

One of the icons on Skizzy’s monitor was for
satellite images. She clicked on it and then typed in Skizzy’s
address. If she could see the satellite image from when Dagger left
she should be able to follow him. Estimating the time of Dagger’s
departure, Sara watched the video feedback. After fifteen minutes
she failed to see Dagger emerge from the front entrance. Next she
focused on the rear exit. Again, she didn’t see Dagger anywhere.
His Navigator was still parked in front of the store as was her PT
Cruiser. Was he still upstairs or did Skizzy have some secret
tunnel? Sara wouldn’t put it past him. Skizzy owned a Humvee and a
number of other vehicles. They had to be parked somewhere, probably
underground. And Skizzy probably had an underground access from the
pawn shop.

Sara expanded the satellite search to a
surrounding five- block area watching for the appearance of a
Humvee exiting a garage. After twenty minutes of scanning, her
eyeballs hurt. She was tempted to march right back upstairs and
pound through the door and bookcase but then remembered her house.
Of course! Dagger would go home first for supplies. She typed in
the address for her house and waited for the satellite images. How
did Skizzy happen to get live satellite feedback? She didn’t want
to know. It probably wasn’t legal.

Her house came into view. She typed in the
time she estimated that Dagger would have arrived at the house and
watched for the next twenty minutes. Nothing. Dagger had not
returned home. Where could he be?

Sara glanced at the sides of the screen. The
top and bottom of the screen had numbers, as did the left and right
sides of the screen. She stared at the numbers written on the pad
of paper, the ones which were off the metal cover Doc removed from
Dagger’s neck. Could they be coordinates? How bizarre was that? No
matter how ridiculous it seemed, Sara punched in the numbers and
waited.

The satellite image shifted and pointed
toward a spot in central Nebraska north of North Platte. It was an
isolated section near Ringgold. The closest town looked ten miles
away. She punched another key and zoomed in on the area. It was a
group of buildings with fencing around several large sheds. Not one
car was in the area. It looked like a Western ghost town.

By Sara’s calculations the abandoned town was
close to seven hundred miles from Cedar Point, around ten hours
driving time for the normal person. For Dagger, it was probably a
seven hour drive. She doubted he would fly because he would need a
car, one that couldn’t be traced back to a rental company where he
would have to show identification.

Sara zoomed in until she could see words on
the buildings. One sign on the cyclone fence read Gemini M.S. She
opened a third window and accessed Google. By typing in Gemini M.S.
she received tens of thousands of hits, mostly dealing with
astrology. She went back to the sign on the cyclone fence. Zooming
in again she saw a symbol shaped like a butterfly with its wings
closed. A chill swept over her body. She knew that symbol. It
wasn’t a butterfly at all but a fish…a betta. It was the symbol for
BettaTec.

CHAPTER 22

“
SKIZZY!” Sara pounded on the door
enough to rattle the hinges. “DAGGER’S WALKING INTO A TRAP!” She
pressed her ear to the door and focused her hearing. Skizzy wasn’t
pacing. Instead she heard his heart pounding. It was loud and
rapid. Skizzy had his ear pressed to the other side of the door. He
had opened the bookcase at one point while she was busy doing her
searches. But she was sure he was right on the other side.
“Skizzy.” Sara kept her voice low. “We have to help him. BettaTec
owns the buildings where Dagger is headed.

Locks were released. Sara moved down one
step. The door swung open.

“
BettaTec?” Skizzy’s eyes bulged and
appeared to wobble in their sockets. “The company with the
satellite that explodes things?”

“
The company with two satellites that
explode things.” Sara slowly descended. “Let me show you
something.” She could have overpowered him if she wanted to and
just taken off, but she needed Skizzy’s help.

Skizzy slid into the chair and eyed the
screen. He went back to the satellite image to check the
coordinates. Following the exact steps Sara had taken, he ended up
back at the sign on the cyclone fence.

Sara pointed at the symbol of the fish.
“That’s the same symbol on the map in Dagger’s vault, the map he
took from BettaTec. I’m sure of it. Did Dagger tell you where he
was going?”

“
No, but he appeared to know where he
was headed. Said he had to do this on his own.”

“
Those numbers are longtitude and
latitude coordinates. It targets an area in Nebraska that looks
like a ghost town. The sign says Gemini M.S. Any idea what it
means?”

Skizzy let out a whoosh of air. “By the looks
of them buildings and the isolated area, I’d say it stands for
missile silo.”

“
Missile silo? What is a private
company doing operating a missile silo?”

“
The U.S. closed most by 1965. They
were focusing more on long range intercontinental ballistic
missiles so the missile silos were obsolete. They sold the
properties. Some idiots actually turned them into underground
bunker homes. Looks like BettaTec bought this one. It’s a good
cover if a company didn’t want people to know what they were doing
there.”

“
I have to help him.” Sara charged up
the stairs.

“
Whoa, wait up there just a minute,
girlie. I ain’t supposed to let you leave yet.”

“
Or what?” Sara reached the top of the
stairs and turned to face him. “What else did Dagger tell
you?”

“
Just to keep an eye on the cardinal.
There’s supposed to be some farewell thing he wants me and Simon to
hire on as waiters.”

“
Well, if you and Simon can’t help him,
that leaves me.” Sara headed for the door but stopped when she saw
the Navigator parked at the curb. She whirled on the scrawny guy,
forced Skizzy to take a step back. “Where’s your garage? I checked
satellite surveillance and didn’t see Dagger leave the building. So
where do you keep your vehicles and what car did you loan
Dagger?”

“
Oh man.” Skizzy kicked at imaginary
dirt. “He’s going to kill me.”

“
There won’t be anything to kill after
I get through with you. Now what car is he driving?”

“
An unused utility tunnel leads to my
garage a block away. He’s driving a turbocharged Chevy
Cobalt.”

CHAPTER 23

Dagger had stayed on I-80 through Nebraska.
There were more semi-tractor trailers to pace his speed and, more
importantly, a better choice of hotels. He could have picked a
small mom and pop motel but with so few rooms, it would be too easy
for the owners to describe him. At a larger hotel he could get lost
in the crowd.

Just west of Kearney he stopped at a Sheraton
Hotel whose marquee welcomed the Nebraska Industrial
Instrumentation Association. He didn’t request any special
accommodations that would make the desk clerk remember him. After
taking the room key card, he dumped his gym bag on the bed,
showered and changed. His fourth floor room overlooked the parking
lot. Several doors down was a pancake house, a steak house, and a
large chain family restaurant. Across the street was a gas station
with a McDonalds. He would need to stock up on water and protein
bars before setting out tomorrow morning. For now he needed one
helluva steak.

The lobby was filled with men standing in
clusters, some in suits, some dressed casual, all looking like
salesmen. Beady eyes appeared to analyze and sort comments.
Blackberrys were being punched, cell phones were tethered to ear
buds.

Dagger could blend in with this bunch. Black
jeans, black tennis shoes, dark gray shirt, a black jean jacket,
dark shades, and long hair stuffed under a baseball cap with
Michelin written across the front screamed trucker to all who
looked at him. It was too warm for a jacket but Dagger had to hide
his Kimber that was in the belt holster. Besides, he doubted there
were that many truckers who weren’t packing heat.

He slid into a booth in the crowded bar,
selecting one in a corner with full view of the entrance. He pulled
a map of Nebraska from the inside pocket of his jacket and unfolded
it on the table.

A waiter slouched over. He didn’t look old
enough to drink let alone serve a drink. He still had the residuals
of teenage acne.

“
Want something to drink?”

“
Have anything on special?”

“
Buck-fifty pints.”

“
That’s fine. Coors Light.”

“
My name’s Brad.” Brad dropped a menu
on the table and left.

The dining room section of the restaurant was
filling fast. And although every seat at the bar was filled, there
were still a number of open booths. Dagger slid his sunglasses in
the pocket of his jeans jacket, then gave the menu a quick scan. By
the time Brad returned with the beer, Dagger was ready to
order.