Charlie hit enter. “It takes you directly to the menu screen.”
The menu appeared in basic digital text on black, identical to the avionics text in an F-35:
CONTROL MENU
CLIMATE
COMMS
HELMET CAM
FLIR/NV
REBREATHER
GPS
ENCRYPT
PARACHUTE
BATT
MAP
SECURITY
The features appeared for all to see. Hal was reluctant to delve into the inner workings of the stealth suit — releasing untold classified information to one of America’s superpower rivals. He didn’t have much choice. Hal scanned through the list, unable to find the feature he was most concerned about—disabling the self destruct mode. He lied to them earlier about hacking in to turn off the GPS tracker, although they would need to do that too. “Will you open Security please?”
Charlie did and the screen read FIREWALL ON/OFF. Hal shook his head. Not it. “GPS?” Thinking it must be the way they tracked the ghost via satellite. Charlie navigated back and opened GPS…
TRANS/REC ON/OFF SD
Hal remembered the map from the menu screen. If he was right, transmit and receive GPS signals were an option. Better to turn it off for now to be safe. “Click off.” “Try SD, please.”
A screen came up, requesting a new username and password. Charlie tried the previous one and received an INVALID PASSWORD prompt.
“The suit has a remote activated self-destruct,” Weng said.
Hal nodded. “Do you mind?” Hal asked Charlie. Implying he’d like him to hack this password too.
Charlie pulled up the decryption tool on the other laptop, but stopped when he felt Weng’s hand on his shoulder. “Not until we know everything you do,” Weng said. His eyes drilling into Hal’s. “Starting with her involvement. What is she doing here?”
Hal pondered the request and how they were changing the arrangement. They didn’t have a leg to stand on, he thought, knowing he owned all their gear. Hal’s better senses prevailed, realizing the help they were giving him far outweighed the value of their gear. “You got any coffee?” Hal asked Weng.
“I’ll bring some up,” Weng replied. Raising an eyebrow to Charlie — granting permission to run the decryption tool.
Matt laid down on one of the beds, eyeing his watch and closing his eyes. Hal got up and stretched and went to the other bed, sitting down. Jennifer sat beside him, saying in a low voice, “I never told you about Doctor Elm…”
Weng returned with a tray of five steaming cups of coffee. He set it on a table, serving his guests first and then his countrymen. Hal moved two of the folding chairs to face Jennifer. He sat in one and motioned for Weng to take the other.
Jennifer started from the beginning… How she became involved, her role in the project, and how she was also in the dark as to the true nature of the project that resulted in the assassinations of so many. When she got to the mind control aspects, Matt rose forward in his bed, intrigued. Charlie turned around from the computer to listen, reassuring them that the laptop was busy doing its thing.
Jennifer’s story convinced Weng that Hal was indeed innocent, as was Jennifer. He was about to ask Jennifer if she witnessed any missions, when the computer issued a BLIP sound, meaning the search had completed.
The group gathered around the laptop screen as Charlie typed in the newly hacked username… MajBillTrest. The password was the same. Charlie hit enter, opening…
DEACTIVATE GPS TRACKER
DEACTIVATE SELF-DESTRUCT
Hal was relieved. Charlie clicked both and deactivated them. Weng could sense Hal’s elation. He shook his hand, and Hal gave Charlie an appreciative pat on the back.
Charlie hit a back arrow on the screen and went back to the menu page. He clicked on BATT and opened a page that showed battery life and power options. He plugged a USB charger into the backpack and plugged the power cord into the bunkhouse wall. A charger icon appeared on the display — the backpack was successfully charging. “That’s the one,” Charlie said to Hal, identifying the correct cord out of the half dozen Hal provided.
“Thank you,” Hal said. He shook hands with the three men then loaded the helmet, backpack and cords into his suitcase. “I’ll go get your weapons and ge—”
“—I didn’t tell you everything,” Jennifer said, continuing her story. Hal sat back down. “When Doctor Elm was dying, he said something to me. I thought he was delirious and — just nonsensical. Maybe it means something to you. His last words were Trest… China next and U-N.
The UN part sent a brisk shiver up Weng’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He observed it meant nothing to Hal and Jennifer. They didn’t know. Jennifer looked at Weng, as if expecting a response or reaction from him. Any reaction.
“I don’t know,” Weng said, keeping his cards close to his vest. “You would know more about it than me.”
“I’ll get your gear.” Hal hoisted the suitcase up and headed down the loft stairs, followed by Jennifer.
By the time Weng and the others made it down the stairs and peered through the window, Hal was opening the double doors to the barn and Jennifer’s car was blazing down the dirt road away from the ranch. Moments later, headlights rolled out from the barn, making the sagebrush in front of the driveway glow bright white. Hal pulled his rental out and drove to the bunkhouse.
He unloaded the black crates of weapons and spy-tech gear from the trunk. Weng and the others arrived to help. Weng carried the QBZ-95 assault rifle from inside. Hal popped the latches on the rifle case. Weng ejected the magazine, cleared the chamber and put the mag and rifle in the case. Hal latched it shut. The last case. He handed it to Weng, thanking him and his men for their help.
Weng refused the assault rifle. “Keep it,” he said. “It looks good on you.”
Hal froze. At a loss for the gesture.
“Besides,” Weng said. “Now, I have a favor to ask of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ACT OF WAR
A white iPhone with pink trim buzzed. Rattling a rickety Formica night stand. Jenny’s eyes slowly opened and the phone came into view. The heavy drapes of her hotel smothered all light from entering. She picked up the phone, expecting it to be the wee hours of the morning, but jolted awake seeing 11:05 a.m. on the screen. More shocking than that were the stack of repeated texts sent by Hal in code. Jenny’s initial thought, he probably thinks I’m dead!
She scrambled around in the dark, looking for her purse. She located it and fished out a thick wallet. Pulling out a metal business card holder. She popped it open. Fanning through the cards to her own psychology practice card. Looking at the white backs, stopping when she saw one with scrawl marks. The key to the codes Henry created for the three of them.
She matched her codes up to Hal’s repeated texts of seemingly random letters and numbers. It translated to SITREP. She had to remind herself what it meant. Report your situation. The bunkhouse coffee had taken its toll on her, keeping her up all night, and the opaque drapes kept her from waking by natural light. She looked for the “I’m okay” code and keyed it to Hal as fast as she could. She noticed his previous string of texts, most of which were the ranch location code, sent over and over.