Flightsuit (8 page)

Sowyer was already at the meet-up location when Taylor arrived. 
I should have guessed
, thought Taylor, irritated. 
No time for a nap to push the migraine back.  He's dangerous.  I should be at my best for such a delicate situation
.  He would have to make do.

He pulled his car alongside Sowyer's in the deserted parking lot.  They'd agreed to meet in the lot of an abandoned department store to ensure there were no cameras.  There were no pleasantries exchanged.  Sowyer hated Taylor and Taylor couldn't name a single person he actually liked.  He nodded anyway, just an acknowledgement. 

Trying to see past Sowyer into the interior of his car, he asked, "You have it?"  He was intent on keeping communication to a minimum if possible. 

Sowyer seemed to have the same objective.  "Yes," he replied. "I have it.  As much as I hate dealing with you in any way, I'll give you this, your damned plan worked just like you said."

Taylor nodded.  Of course it was a good plan.  He'd set to work on a plan to acquire the artifact immediately following the session with Samuels' research team.  He removed himself from the consulting schedule and spent two weeks tracking the project's security agents.  He'd followed them to coffee shops for lunch and bars on some afternoons.

Without knowing why at first, he'd begun to suspect that Agent Sowyer and the attractive Agent Walker were having an affair.  Perhaps he'd unconsciously picked it up via timesharing, he wasn't sure.  He'd followed them to a coffee house and sat in a booth with high walls close enough that his ability told him the details of their interactions. 

He'd left a note on Sowyer's windshield a week later and laid out his demands.  He'd also offered Sowyer what was a nice, financial bonus to mitigate his anger.  He didn't want Sowyer's pride to overwhelm his self-control.  Sowyer would have no reluctance to kill him if he thought he could do it without harm to his own family or career.  A little upside financial gain siphoned enough of his anger to prevent this. 

Taylor guessed that the research team would have scanned the artifact to produce 3D mocku
ps so researchers could use models for physical tests while the actual artifact underwent the long term tests for electrical, chemical and UV data.  When they needed a fixture made to hold the artifact in place, they sent the plastic models to the fabrication department rather than the artifact itself.  The models were created by a laser-etching process from a plastic material.  The plastic models wouldn't serve Taylor's purposes, but the mapped 3D data coordinates would.  He instructed Sowyer to download them.

From these coordinates, Taylor contracted a machinist to
create a perfect Aluminum duplicate.  Aluminum was a little heavier than the glass-metal artifact, but Taylor knew the artifact would be out of the lab for the next several months as Samuels carried it to secret congressional sub-committee meetings.  The NSA needed additional funding and everyone was fascinated by the artifact's potential.

Photographs copied by Sowyer ensured similar surface features and gloss for the duplicate. 

The artifact was routinely transported within the research facility 2-3 times per week.  Sowyer and the other security agents handled all transport.  Years of routine repetition lowered attention to detail and gave Sowyer opportunities to switch the original and duplicate.  Sowyer sent the duplicate to himself via overnight delivery to arrive on Saturday.  Sowyer and the other agents alternated Saturday coverage and they typically carried Saturday mail to the inspection facility themselves. 

Sowyer picked up the package
.  He opened and scanned the other items and hid the fake artifact.  A week later, he had an opportunity to switch out the artifact as he picked it up from the research lab and put it into its travel case.  Major Samuels palmed the case closed.  The duplicate was so close in appearance that even for the few seconds that Sowyer had both in hand, he could only perceive a slight difference in the weight.  Samuels hadn't noticed anything in the second between Sowyer laying the artifact in the case and palming the lock.

Sowyer
fought back adrenalin shakes after the high-stakes experience, but sitting in his office later, it began to sink in that Taylor's plan had actually worked.  As much as he hated Taylor's smug satisfaction and disregard for anyone else, he rationalized that the money Taylor offered would give him a chance to make amends.  He'd broken off the affair with Walker shortly after receiving Taylor's note.  Fear of losing his family and career provided a pause and resurgent clarity and he now wondered at what he'd almost lost.  Walker didn't seem overly concerned.  He suspected her attention might now be focused on Samuels.  "Good luck," he thought – not sure which of them might need it most.

Taylor was so excited it was hard to contain his reaction.  He held his checklist folded in his hand, for reassurance more than anything else.  He'd read
this list so many times, he could rewrite it from memory if necessary.  He was currently working on "13. Keep Sowyer calm.  He is inclined toward anger and has tendencies toward solving problems with violence – do not argue with him about anything!" 

He found this challenging.  He didn't like Sowyer and would have loved to make him feel worse
, if possible. 
Focus on the big picture
, he reminded himself. 

He said, "T
hat's good, Agent Sowyer, I knew that you would be successful.  You're extremely capable." 

Sowyer said nothing,
staring at him like a bug in need of a heavy boot.

"This is going to be just fine Agent Sowyer, you have nothing to fear.  Major Samuels is making rounds with the artifact for the next 35 days taking it from one end of government bureaucracy to another, allowing congressional committees to see the artifact first hand.  He has to keep his superiors happy so the research funds keep flowing".

No response. 
Reassure him.  Keep him calm
.

"By the time the artifact returns to the lab, it will have traveled from sub-committee to sub-committee, been handled by dozens of bureaucrats – making it impossible to track down exactly when and where it was replaced by our forgery," said Taylor, smiling
and excited.

"They'll have hundreds of possible leads with no surety as to how long they've held the forgery.  And they'll want to keep it quiet.  Their investigation will be hamstrung by their desire to avoid disclosing to anyone that the artifact has been replaced.  It will take months and produce no results."

Grinding his teeth, Sowyer prompted, "What about me?  What about my family?"

"You have every reason to trust me Agent Sowyer," assured Taylor.  Sowyer huffed at this and shook his head, but Taylor pretend
ed not to notice. "Our interests are the same now.  We both want to keep our relationship confidential.  You will be free to refocus your attention to your wife and family.  There's no reason for her to ever know about the situation with Agent Walker."

Reaching into his back seat, he said "I have the money." 
Show him the carrot, get his mind off the stick
.

"This is not blackmail," he said.  "We're doing business.  It's good for both of us."

"It's blackmail alright, you're not fooling anyone.  Give it to me."

He reached into the bag and thumbed through the cash stacks without pulling them out.  When he finished, he held the bag up.  "This your idea of a joke?" he asked, looking at the "Mr. Wonderful" stencil.

Standing face-to-face, Taylor regretted the tease.  "A little levity hurts no one Agent Sowyer." 
At least I hope not
, he thought remembering #13.  Sowyer was a soldier with hand-to-hand combat training and sixty pounds on Taylor. 

"It's going to be fine Agent Sowyer.  As soon as you give me the artifact, we will never meet again.  You'll be free to live your life with a nice little bonus to boot."

Sowyer reached into his passenger seat and handed Taylor the artifact.  Holding it for just a second too long in order to draw Taylor's eyes up to meet his own for a last stared threat. 

Taylor sat in his car as Sowyer drove away.  Threats were unnecessary.  Taylor had the artifact now.  He held it.  Somewhere far back in his mind, he tried to understand
why
he'd wanted it.

He opened his checklist, looking for #14.

Leo blinked several times.  There was barely any difference in what he saw with his eyes open or closed
.  It was dark.  He sat up quickly, horrified to be alone, in the woods, at night.  He looked about him trying to see everything around him at once. 
Oh no.  Oh no, no, no, No!  I've got to get out of here
.  He knew his mother would be frantic, and he would be in serious trouble.  He sat up fast, forgetting the briars hanging overhead.  Having also forgotten the sleeve, he lifted his left arm up to push them away.  Lowering his sleeved left arm into his lap he pressed thorns away with back of his right arm with a small whimper escaping his throat.

The sleeve and the stream were the brightest features in the darkness.  The sleeve reflected moonlight scatter as did the stream's rolling wavelets as they slid across dark stones.  He shifted himself to sit more upright and touched the back of the sleeve's forearm with his right hand.

A faint blue pinpoint of light was visible as he raised his fingers back off the surface.  Squinting at it, he was unsure if it came from the sleeve or was a moonlight reflection.  The pinpoint was right where his fingertip had touched.  He raised the forearm closer to his eyes, just as the pinpoint started to move.  It followed a slowly swirling arc and left an even fainter blue phosphor trace behind.  The phosphor trace faded as the pinpoint moved.  Leo judged by the trace's pattern that the pinpoint was following one of the designs he'd seen etched into the surface.

The slowly moving pinpoint separated in
to two lines, with each traveling in opposite directions across the forearm.  When they were three inches apart, both changed direction and traveled on parallel paths toward the sleeve's fingers.  After five inches, they changed direction again and came back together – leaving a rectangular trace on the forearm.  This rectangle brightened and a new pinpoint appeared in the center.  This one was orange.  It flared brightly for a second, then faded in intensity and began to flash on and off every two seconds.

Faint blue triangles appeared around the orange pinpoint.  The triangles were different sizes with different heights and bases.  When a squiggled, wavy line appeared beside the orange pinpoint
, Leo realized the rectangle was a map.  The wavy line was the stream and the triangles were the mountains surrounding him. 

As he watched, a line dropped from the apex of each triangle to its base.  Another line extended from the intersection of the vertical line
with the triangle's base, and swept a radius, leaving a contour trace as it spiraled back to the apex of each triangle.  The movement stopped with contours of each hill around Leo marked on the map. 

Another orange pinpoint appeared two inches outside the rectangular map and began flashing in time with the original one.  Leo thought the second marker must be another piece of the sleeve.  After a minute when nothing new was added to the map, Leo remembered the spike in his arm. 

Can I pull it back out?
  He felt along his arm in the dark, his fingers coming to the wet skin, punctured by the spike and still slightly bleeding.  He was glad that at least it hadn't bled much.  Feeling around the point where his skin met the spike brought cold sweat to his forehead and he felt himself swim and sway.  He pulled his hand away fearing that he might pass out again.

He noticed how fast he was breathing.  His breath was catching and rebounding too quickly.  He forced a long inhale that helped. 
Don't want to pass out again
.

He looked again at the other orange pinpoint. 
Should I walk over to see that other orange marker before I go home, or get out of here before something worse happens?  It's not bleeding anymore, and only hurts if I raise my arm too high. 

He looked at the lights on the sleeve
, wondering what powered them.  If the batteries, or whatever, died before he found the other piece, could he find it himself?

He decided that if the sleeve was worth something, it would be better to have two pieces than just one.  Once other people saw it, there might be a lot of people looking for the rest and he might not get anything else.

He stood up unsteadily, stooping to avoid briars and squinting cover for his eyes.  Stepping back into the water helped wake him up.  The stream's refreshing coolness during the hot day felt cold and clammy in the moonlight. 

After a few careful minutes wading
, crouched through the briar tunnel with a patchwork of additional scratches on his back and right arm he stepped out of the stream onto the cracked asphalt.  He looked at the map again to get his bearing, trying to locate the other sleeve piece and noticed that a red pinpoint had appeared on the map.  Leo looked up at the dark silhouettes of the mountains to figure out where the red pinpoint indicated.

A loud exhalation broke the quiet darkness.  Leo froze.  Black bears were common in East Tennessee's mountains.  He'd come across a couple after his initial encounter.  They usually sensed people from a hundred yards away.  They blew warning blasts of air from their nose, warning people to stay back.  Leo didn't move and didn't breathe.  Seeing a bear in your back yard or crossing a road was one thing.  Seeing a bear after you'd hiked miles out into a quiet forest was another, and hearing one in the woods at night that you couldn't see was worse. 
Listening so intently, it felt as if he was almost reaching his mind out to "feel" what caused the noise. 

Another loud snort and then fast shuffling of leaves that meant something was running
.  His heart raced. 
Which way?
  Realizing he couldn't actually see the bear regardless of how hard he might try through the dark woods, Leo looked at the map. 

He breathed in again when he saw the red marker moving away from the – his – orange marker.  He stayed still and quiet, terrified that the red marker might
move closer again. 

He watched the red light travel outside the rectangle and move along the outside of the
sleeve's forearm.  After it moved three inches outside the map, it winked out.   Leo listened but couldn't hear it shuffling through the leaves any longer.

He waited a few more minutes watching apprehensively for the red dot to reappear, wiping old sweat from his forehead and eyes.  He realized he was sweating a lot even though he shivered from the night's chill.  Sliding his feet to avoid tripping over upturned asphalt pieces, limbs and grass patches, he made his way along the cracked old road.  The stars and moon sliver provided just enough contrast to make silhouettes of the familiar hills and trees surrounding the road.  Having traveled this same route in the daylight many times helped him navigate. 

Leo came to a point on the road he judged to be closest to the other orange pinpoint and stopped.  The dark woods lay quiet and forbidding in the direction the map indicated.  Judging by the distance he had already covered on the map, the other object must be up the hillside, less than a few hundred yards more.  In the daylight, he could probably see the spot from here, unless it was around the curve of a hill – but when he stepped into the woods, he'd block out even the dim moonlight he had on the road and it would be really, really dark.

But it was
so close.  He listened for shuffling leaves or cracking branches. He looked again at the faintly-illuminated map and wondered how long its power would last.  Without the map, there'd be no hope of finding the other piece. 
I've got to see what it is
. 

He stepped into the shadowed trees.