Jake thought that over and had to admit this technology could be significant, assuming it worked as advertised. “You’ve read the patent application,” he said. “Do you know the significance?”
“I think so,” she answered. “It sounds like they can take a small projectile, launched from anywhere in the U.S., and have it hit with GPS accuracy anywhere in the world.”
It was even better than that. “Exactly. It’s a nanotech weapon sent at hypersonic speed. The actual warhead, if you want to call it that, could be the size of a bullet, but could take out a tank…or an individual, depending on needs. This would make our strategic Air Force obsolete, our nuclear arsenal a relic, our overseas basing unnecessary. Some Air Force captain sitting in a bunker could assassinate the leader of Zimbabwe with a push of the button.”
She seemed to sink deeper into the Town Car leather seat. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Why isn’t the military all over this?” he asked.
“DARPA has been trying to recruit those two professors for years, but they were both staunchly independent.”
Suddenly a muffled sound started coming from the back of the car, followed by more vehement pounding, startling the congresswoman.
“Is that my driver?” she asked.
“Yeah, we should probably let him out.” But he ignored the pounding for a moment and continued. “What do you want me to do with this professor once I find him?”
She looked puzzled. “He’ll have to be debriefed by our military intelligence and the Agency.”
What she meant was detained for his safety and stashed away to do his research in seclusion. He would be no better than a prisoner punching out license plates, and lose all rights to profit from his patent. Well, that and his ability to kill one despot or millions of people with the press of a button. Jake guessed the guy had first started off by trying to eliminate the need for nukes. But in the end he would simply replace the unthinkable with the possible.
“What are your current rates for consultation?” she asked him rather sheepishly.
He hated this part of his consultation business. After the past few deals, he really didn’t need the money. But to keep things legit, he needed to be compensated in some way. “Let’s worry about that at a later date. You don’t want me to be linked to you in any way at this time.”
“Right. Especially after that video from your testimony.” She gave him an endearing, contemplative glance that made her look even more stunning than before.
If Jake had not noticed this beautiful woman when she was a freshman in high school, either she was a late bloomer or he had been a complete idiot back then. He was trying his best not to notice her crossed legs right now, along with the crucifix dangling in her ample cleavage.
The pounding from the trunk got louder.
“We better let that guy out before he pees his pants,” Jake said. He got out of the back of the car and held the door open for a moment. “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”
“Do you have my private cell number?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yeah, no problem.” He slammed the door and walked off down the snowy residential sidewalk, the sound of pounding on the trunk muffled more with each step he took.
A few blocks down Jake caught a cab back to his hotel and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. When he got to his room, he hesitated for a couple seconds before sliding his key card into the slot. Something felt wrong. And his senses were rarely wrong. Instinctively he felt for his gun under his left arm, but it wasn’t there. He needed to change that in a hurry.
He smiled and shook his head, ran his card through the slot, and opened the door. Just as he switched on the light, he simultaneously saw the danger and felt the electrodes strike his chest, sending ten thousand volts of energy shooting through his body, collapsing him to his knees. The second jolt had him flopping around the floor like a fish out of water until he passed out.
6
When Jake woke up the first thing he noticed was he was not in his hotel room any more. How did he know this? Well, first of all, he was immersed up to his neck in acrid water that smelled more like a combination of jet fuel, human feces, urine, and rotting animals. In this case a dead rat, which floated just a few inches from his mouth.
He swiveled his head around as far as he could, considering his arms were lashed behind him and his feet were equally bound. He was in some sort of metal tank. The only light in the room came from emergency lights against a far wall, revealing high ceilings with rusted metal rafters. No windows. It was an old warehouse of some kind, Jake guessed.
Those who had taken him had strapped him to a chair, but he couldn’t tell how solid that was. As far as he could tell, the only item of clothing he still wore was his black jeans and hopefully his underwear. His chest was bare, as were his feet.
Suddenly a door opened and he could hear muffled voices approach the tank. Then a man’s head, covered by a rubber mask of a devilish creature, appeared above him.
“I see you didn’t drown, Mister Adams,” said a gruff voice from behind the mask.
A second mask popped over the edge. This one was a princess with blonde hair. But Jake guessed it was not a woman.
“Are you two with the chamber of commerce?” Jake asked. “If so, I’m not sure I like this city.” A small amount of water got into his mouth when he spoke, which he quickly spit out toward the rat.
“I heard you were a comedian,” the ghoul said. “And I must admit that I enjoyed your performance before the House committee. I must have watched it ten times today on the internet.” Just after his last words, his gloved hand smashed down onto Jake’s head and shoved his face under water.
Out of an implied respect for this potential interrogator, Jake pretended to struggle. In reality he could hold his breath for at least three to five minutes under water, a feat that he had learned again during his training with the Agency. He had first practiced this, though, in the lakes and rivers in Montana during his youth. He struggled more for effect, pretending to choke and on the way to drowning, which forced the man to let his head up.
Jake spit out some water and noticed the rat had slipped to the edge of the tank. He coughed and said, “You really should ask a question and wait for me to answer or not answer before you punish me. What do you want from me?”
“I’m just trying to set the parameters of my patience,” the ghoul said. This time an accent seeped out. What kind?
“Understand,” Jake said, coughing for real this time. Yeah, there was some kind of fuel mixed with this crappy water. Great.
This back and forth and up and down in the water went on for another hour. The entire time, mostly while Jake was pretending to struggle under the water, he was also working on the ropes that bound his hands and discovering that the chair he sat on was wooden and not very sturdy. The entire interrogation was like water-boarding, only this would actually be considered torture under the Geneva Conventions — something these thugs had no inclination to follow.
The questions had been equally illuminating for Jake. For some reason the interrogators asked many specific questions about his past, which gave Jake more information about who they could possibly be than revealing anything important that Jake knew. They were skirting the issue, working around the edges. Other than this blunder it was obvious that their training, disturbingly, had most likely come from American or other intelligence services. Yet, Jake was sure they were foreign nationals. Slavic. Russian or Czech or Bulgarian or Ukrainian. If he had more time in the tank, he could figure that out. But this was getting old and his hands, although shriveled and cold, were getting close to freedom.