I lead seminars on criminology all over the world, but in the presence of Dr. Calvin Werjonic I still feel like an elementary school student.
I knew I couldn’t make it to L.A., not with this case heating up, but as I drove to the FBI field office, I returned Calvin’s call and asked if he could swing through San Diego before heading back to his office in Chicago. “Calvin, it would be great to see you. Besides, I wouldn’t mind talking over this case with you and… well, talking over this case.”
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “So you have a personal matter you’d like to discuss and it’s so sensitive you don’t wish to mention it over the phone. You were hoping to bring it up offhandedly in the course of our conversation, no doubt.”
Sometimes having friends who are professional investigators can be really annoying. “Something like that,” I said. “So do you think you could meet me down here?”
And, to my surprise, he agreed. “Yes, well, I believe I can, my boy. I’ll change my flight connections and swing through before leaving for Munich tomorrow evening. We’ll meet in the morning, then-10:30 a.m., in the parking lot beside the Alcazar Garden in Balboa Park. Bring your walking shoes and some of that good coffee you so enjoy. I’m six-two with speckled gray hair. I’ll be wearing a tan-”
“Calvin, that’s enough specifics. I’m sure I’ll recognize you.”
“Yes, of course. All right, my boy, I’ll see you then.”
A few minutes after our conversation ended, I arrived for my meeting with Ralph at the San Diego FBI field office.
You wouldn’t know that the imposing green and brown building on Aero Drive was a federal building just by looking at it. There’s no sign, just a street number, and the dark-mirrored windows, prominent video cameras, and security fence make it look like any one of a dozen other office complexes in San Diego’s biotech corridor.
No, you’d never know that 9797 Aero Drive was an FBI field office unless someone told you so.
There’s nothing as effective as hiding in plain sight.
As I entered the facility, I gave Terry a call. If anyone could get us into Austin Hunter’s Gmail account, Terry could. “Hey, Terry.
It’s Pat.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Whenever you call, it means I’m about to do something illegal.”
“Yeah, but you can cover your tracks so well, you’ll never get caught.”
I could hear him tapping at his keyboard. He was probably at the NSA headquarters in Fort Meade, Maryland, although it was hard to tell. He often worked from one of their remote, undisclosed sites.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m wondering if you can hack into someone’s Gmail account. I’ve got the address right here.”
“That’s it? My thirteen-year-old niece could do that for you.”
“This is an important case, Terry. I think it might help us track down a missing woman.”
Without a moment’s hesitation. “Give it to me.”
I gave him Austin Hunter’s Gmail address. “The password might be encrypted,” I explained. “He was a Navy SEAL. He might have taken extra precautions.”
“Passwords were made to be cracked. The Chinese have a whole division of military hackers. Back in June of 2007 they were able to get into the Department of Defense database and download submarine navigation schedules before the DOD was able to shut down that part of the system.”
“I never heard that before,” I said.
“That’s because, according to both the Chinese and U.S. governments, it never happened.” More tapping at the keyboard. “I’m at least as good as the Chinese. Stay on the line,” he said, “this’ll only take a minute.”
“I’m stepping on the elevator,” I said. I looked at my watch.
Terry was fast, let’s see how fast. “Call me back in three.”
Victor Drake slammed the door to his office.
He’d just left a useless-completely useless-meeting at the aquarium with that imbecile Warren Leant. The man was clueless, and he would soon be jobless.
Cops were all over that stupid aquarium. All over it.
From the very beginning of the project, Victor had demanded that the Project Rukh researchers keep only hard copies of their files and leave nothing sensitive on their computers. After all, anyone with half a brain knew how to hack into someone else’s system these days, and on a project like this, you couldn’t take those kinds of chances.
Thankfully, it looked like Ms. Lillo had followed protocol and only kept printed notes and then sent them by courier to Building B-14. However, while the idiot cops were dinking around on the lower level, through his own ingenuity, Victor had managed to sneak in and erase Ms. Lillo’s hard drive, just in case.
Victor assessed his situation. He still didn’t have the information pulled together for the general, who would be arriving in less than forty-eight hours, and he still had no idea where Austin Hunter was-or where that little wench Cassandra Lillo had run off to.
Not good. Not good. Not good.
He needed to get a handle on this whole situation. Maybe meet with Dr. Kurvetek and those two gorillas, Geoff and Suricata. Figure out what to do if Austin Hunter or Cassandra Lillo decided to go to the authorities.
Victor picked up the phone, and, as much as it annoyed him to have to rely on other people to help solve his problems, he punched in Geoff’s number.
Less than a minute and a half later the elevator doors opened and my phone rang. Terry. “The last email Hunter received has a video attachment,” he said intensely. “And… you need to see this one, Pat.”
“Tell me.”
“You’re going to have to watch it.”
I stepped into room 311, and I signaled with my finger to Ralph that I’d be off the phone in a moment.
“Terry-”
“I’m sending it to you right now.”
I was getting exasperated, but I didn’t want to waste time arguing. “All right. Thanks-”
“And, listen. There’s a lot of chatter out there right now. I figured if you haven’t heard yet you will soon enough. I wanted to be the one to tell you. He’s back.”
“Who is?”
“Sebastian Taylor. He was sighted last week in DC.”
Terry’s comment almost made me forget about the video. Taylor had been the governor of North Carolina until a few months ago.
Before that, he’d officially worked as an overseas diplomat for the state department. However, in October, Terry had helped me uncover Sebastian Taylor’s other, not-quite-so-official job with the CIA. As a result, I’d outed Taylor as an assassin and he ended up murdering a man in cold blood, and almost succeeded in killing me too. He’d been on the run ever since.
“Any leads?” I asked.
“No. But believe me, they’re looking.” He paused and then he continued, “Watch the video, Pat. Find this woman. Do it fast. You only have till eight o’clock.”
His tone of voice chilled me. “Terry, when I hang up, call me back for a video chat. I might have some questions for you after watching this thing.”
I ended the call and turned on my computer’s video chat camera.
Then I positioned myself next to Ralph and gave him a quick update on the arsonist case and Cassandra’s disappearance. He nodded.
Listened. Took a few quick notes. Then I told him that Sebastian Taylor had been sighted.
“I had a feeling he’d be popping up again,” Ralph grumbled.
“I just hope he shows up here somewhere near me.” Ralph took a moment to redirect his thoughts. “By the way, I called Lien-hua.
She’s on her way over.”
I nodded and then connected my computer to the large high-def screen on the wall so that both Ralph and I could watch the video.
Then Terry’s face appeared on my laptop screen. “Be prepared,” he said. “It’s intense.”
I opened his email’s video attachment and pressed “play.”
39
The video began with a close-up of a human eye. Dark brown.