Touched by a Phoenix (48 page)

Tears glistened as he got in the truck. She touched her lips…she still felt his presence as she watched him leave. A tingling sensation ran though her. Brad had left her with more than a kiss…she swore she heard him whisper;
I love you,
as the truck pulled away.

Chapter Twenty

T
he line rang
a half dozen times before a voice with a heavy foreign accent was heard.

“Hello?”

The American hesitated before speaking, “It’s me. He’s being moved to Andrews Air Force Base with the drones.”

The deep voice on the other end replied, “You promised me the drone and the technology.”

The American’s voice was unsteady as he explained, “Yes, but it will be impossible to get into Andrews. It’s a secure facility.”

“What about the laptop?” came the menacing reply.

“Mr. Scott used a backdoor to wipe the hard drive before I could access the data.”

“We had an agreement. I want the drone and the technology that goes with it.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll figure something out, sir.”

“You’ve failed me twice. It is time for you to do as you are told—get me the next best thing.” His fury was clear even though thousands of miles separated them.

The American remained silent.

“Get me the girl, you idiot,” the other man’s tone was so sinister it sent chills down the American’s spine.

“What are you going to do to her?” he asked apprehensively.

“It’s not what I’m going to do with her. It is what you are going to do to her. You will receive a package on Monday with instructions. Your Mr. Scott will give you what I want.”

“Sir, I agreed to get you the data, not to kill anyone,” he declared, bolder than he felt.

The next chilling promise cared not for distance. “You will do as you are told and if you fail me again…you will die.” The phone disconnected.

The American decided he would telework on Monday, as he needed to be home when the package arrived.

Monday morning arrived. As the day wore on…nothing. He paced the floor, watching the clock. It was nearly afternoon when the knock came. He looked through the peephole…no one. He waited a minute to make sure the area was clear before opening the door.

A small package lay on the stoop, not knowing what was inside, he hesitated to pick it up. What would be in the box? His unsteady hands reached for the box; wrapped in brown paper and cold to his touch.

A sickening feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. What would the boss want him to do to Alexandria Saunders? He didn’t want to even think about the consequences. Mr. Scott would start and finish a full on war with anyone who hurt her. He was not a killer…a thief maybe, but not a killer. He had agreed to steal the drone and the job was worth millions, but he wasn’t comfortable with the direction this new plan was taking.

He closed the door, thoughts racing. What were his alternatives…get paid or die, not much to work with. His only hope—the boss would not want her dead. He sat down on the sofa, his hands and legs shaking as he carefully unwrapped the brown paper package. Inside…a hard silver case with a note:

Administer as soon as your Mr. Scott completes the demonstrations. You will have thirty-six hours to get the drone and the data.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at—the case contained a single vile filled with some kind of liquid. He picked up the phone and called, “What is this?”

A sinister laugh greeted his question, “This is your last chance.”

“I understand, but what is this liquid?”

“Poison,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Will she die?”

“Yes.”

His stomach lurched. He couldn’t do this. Stealing the data was one thing, but he couldn’t kill her.

“I won’t do it.”

“Yes, you will,” came the voice, “you are a coward. You are not willing to pay the price for your own failure.”

“No…I will not kill her.” He surprised himself with his own conviction. He stood and walked to the front window and opened the curtain. “I know your man is still outside. Tell him to do what he needs to do, but I am not a killer.” His only hope was the man wanted the drone more than he wanted to kill the girl.

He waited…and waited. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until the man spoke, “I don’t believe you.”

He opened his eyes and saw a man across the street. He looked right at him and nodded his head as if to acknowledge what the man was about to do.

The voice spoke with a raging anger, “Are you going back on the deal?”

“Look, I promised you I would get you the data…and…and I will keep my end of the bargain, but I will not kill her.”

“Fine,” he raged, “I will give you the antidote, and her life will be in his hands.”

“I can live with that. I want enough of both to test it before I give it to her.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“No,” the American replied flatly.

No response—the line was dead.

A second package arrived later in the afternoon with three vials; one matched the previous delivery, the other two were in strange looking tubes with a cluster of holes on one end. He thought for a while…how best to go about this. He wanted to test it on someone first, but how would he get a volunteer willing to die?

He needed to take a walk, get some fresh air, and think. He didn’t know how long he been walking before the park entrance appeared. Wow, he had wandered several miles from the brownstone.

When a homeless man asked for money, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. He almost handed the bill to the man when he realized he had the perfect patsy. “Mister, there’s a lot more where this came from.”

“How much more?” the homeless man asked.

“I need some help with a project and if you agree, I will pay you fifty grand for three days of work. That’s more than enough to get back on your feet—a clean slate so you can start over.”

“Why would you help me?”

“I was walking…trying to figure out if there was someone I might be able to trust enough to help me with a secret project. I couldn’t think of anyone who wouldn’t steal my life’s work and then you appeared. You can’t steal something you don’t understand and besides you look like you could use the money. How about it?” He extended his hand as if to offer the homeless man the deal of his life.

“How do I know you’re serious?”

“Come with me and we’ll stop by the bank. I’ll give you half before we begin working. You get the other half when we’re finished.”

The man eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t want trouble, mister…nothing illegal.”

“No…no, nothing like that. I need help to move some delicate equipment. The project is top secret…do you think you can do as you are told and not ask questions?”

“Sure. I can move stuff.”

“Are you up to the challenge? I need a steady hand.” He was trying hard to sound convincing.

“What equipment?”

“Computers.”

“What do they do?”

“Special equipment designed to detect acts of terrorism and stuff. The research will save lives in the future. I cannot tell you anything more.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up, “Really?”

“Yes, sir.” He extended his hand again. “Do we have a deal?”

“Sure do, sir,” the homeless replied, returning the shake. “Call me Rick. What’s your name?”

“It’s Mr. Jones…but call me Jones.”

They arrived at the brownstone after stopping by the bank. Jones had given the man cash…twenty-five grand. Chump change compared to the fifty-million for his payout.

“So where’s the equipment?”

“The computers are in the basement. Come on, I’ll show you.” As they walked down the stairs, a full server room came into view. He remarked, “This is where I work.”

“Wow,” Rick said in amazement, “how long have you been doing this?”

“A long time,” he replied.

“What do you want me to do?”

“The computer equipment is sensitive. I need to shut all the computers down properly before we can begin packing and moving them to a secure location. Do you want something to eat while I get started?”

“Sure.”

“Kitchen is upstairs and to the left. Help yourself. I’ll start work down here.”

Jones went about fiddling with the computers as Rick watched from behind. He hadn’t expected someone to fall in his lap—he wasn’t prepared. He needed a few minutes to gather his thoughts and develop a plan.

How would he go about showing Mr. Scott what would occur…that if he did as he was told, he could save her. He needed a video recorder, a countdown timer of some sort, a place to put the guy. A mask and a voice distorter.

How would he monitor his vitals? Think…dammit. He took a deep breath—

Act as if you are shutting the systems down. Give him the stuff and start the clock, then you can run pick up the things you need to monitor him. No. I need the equipment beforehand. I need to record the events to show Mr. Scott what will happen.

He ran upstairs. “I started the shutdown sequences but realized I need to pick up additional packing material. I won’t be long. Finish your lunch.” He didn’t even wait for an answer. He just left.

Jones returned a couple hours later with recording equipment, heart monitor, and temperature monitors. He didn’t expect Rick to still be at the brownstone when he returned. He figured he’d taken the money and run, but no matter, now that he had everything under control, he would find another unsuspecting person if need be.

To his surprise, Rick was sound asleep on the sofa. He walked right past him and to the basement without waking him. He sat everything up quickly and made sure the cot was ready, but not visible.

He walked slowly back up the stairs. It was time. What would happen if the poison killed him? He supposed it would be no great loss to society, but still…it grabbed his gut and twisted it into knots. Would he be able to live with himself? Better some homeless guy than Alexandria Saunders he thought. That was the only thing helping him to steel his nerves.

The note said to place one end of the vile close to the neck, and the vile would automatically eject the needles dispensing the poison.

Rick was still asleep when Jones entered the living room.

“Hey Rick. Come on…time to get to work,” as he slapped his foot.

Rick jerked awake. “Sure thing, boss man,” he returned groggily. He rubbed his eyes a couple of times before rising to follow Jones downstairs.

“Why don’t we start with this one. I’ll show you how I want them protected,” Jones began as he walked closer.