The Victor Project (11 page)

     “This pussy can still outrun your fat ass,” joked Frank.

     “That’s no great feat.  Hell my nine year old can run faster than me.  Your family all right?”

     “They’re doing great.  Kathy still busts my balls about working too much, but I think she’s just getting bored now that both the kids are in school full time,” said Frank.

     “She’ll get over that.  It took Beth about six months to find a couple of hobbies.”

     “Hobbies my ass.  I’m gonna’ put her ass back to work,” said Frank.  “Hey, I know what I wanted to ask you.  Have you ever heard of the Victor Project?”

     “Victor?  No why?”

     “No big deal.  I happened to see the file sitting on
Sherman’s desk.  I thought maybe it had something to do with this big stink about the rebels,” said Frank.

     “I’ve never heard of it,” replied Jon.

     “It’s not some viral study?” Frank pushed.

     “None that I can recall.  Did you get a chance to look at it?”

     “No, I just saw the title.”

     “It’s probably one of
Sherman’s personal little projects to push more funding into his pocket,” said Jon.

     “You’re probably right.  Speaking of which, did you ever find out anything more about that Seaking guy?”

     “I haven’t seen the man since the meeting.  I’ve got a feeling he’s the kind that’s there but not there, if you know what I mean,” said Jon.

     “That’s why I call him Sneak,” joked Frank.

<< >> 

     Val was late as usual.  William had already been seated for over fifteen minutes and still no sign of her.  At least his appetizer had arrived quickly.  His stomach had been growling so loudly when he first sat down that he felt that others could feel the vibration.  He never liked to wait anywhere for very long by himself especially at one of the coded rendezvous.  For some reason sitting alone in a restaurant always gave him the feeling that he was not blending in, like he was wearing a clown suit at a funeral.  Being alone in a social environment allowed people to notice you.  It allowed the common person to place a characteristic with a face.  Something he couldn’t afford.  As he focused on the vehicle just outside the window, Val plopped into the seat across from him and caused him to jump.

     “What’s wrong with you, too much coffee?” she asked.

     “Sitting by myself for extended periods of time makes one nervous.”

     “Sorry, you know I’m always five minutes late.  Just adjust your time,” she said.

     “Five minutes.  You’re consistently ten if not fifteen.”

     “Whatever.  What are you eating?”

     “It’s veggie dip.  I was starving.  Please help yourself,”  he replied.

     Val dipped a glob from the bowl and shoved the entire mass into her mouth.

     “We have encountered a problem,”  he began.

     “Not too bad,” she said.

     “The problem?” he asked.

     “The dip,” she replied.

     “Please concentrate,” William said.

     “I’m sorry.  It’s just that when you’ve said that phrase in the past it’s always been coated with a layer of levity.  You’re never that serious about anything, nothing ever gets to you.  So I don’t get alarmed.”

     “Have you been listening to what I’ve been preaching over the past few weeks?  These times are some of the most serious we have ever encountered.  What’s happening around us could cost us our lives.  The cause we’ve been fighting for up until now has had purpose and fruition, but now it’s time to ante up, to finish what we’ve started.  In the next few weeks I feel that we will either win this battle or lose with our lives, all of us.  That is how grave the situation is.  Do you understand?”

     “Yes, but you’re not painting a very pretty picture of the scenario,” she replied.

     “I never have and I never will.  Even if we are able to reveal what the government has been hiding, we could still die in the process.  There won’t be any parades for us.  No one is going to make us martyrs.  We’re just soldiers fighting for something we believe in and up until now none of us has had to sacrifice our lives.  It will happen I assure you.  It’s inevitable for any change of this magnitude.”

     “Does everyone know how serious this is getting?” she asked.

     “I haven’t exactly had this speech with all our comrades, but I believe many of them know we have been too non-confrontational.  Some of them have even conveyed to me that they feel our passiveness over the years has hurt our spirit.  We’ve been an insignificant thorn in the foot of the government up until now, a tolerable nuisance.  This bureaucracy has allowed us to live.  They’ve ignored the small pains and inconveniences that our faction has presented.  They are now planning to have that thorn removed.

     Val studied William’s face as he glanced out the window.  She had been in his presence many times, under many harried circumstances, but this time his face now revealed a burden that she had never seen.  His brow was permanently crinkled as if he had been staring straight into the sun all day.  His shoulders hunched forward as if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each.  He was dead serious about some of the group being killed.  The real thorn the government was looking to extract was him.

     “So what’s the big problem?” she whispered.

     “A few weeks ago, one of our people in the NSA, a person that holds a high rank, came across a new project that he felt we should take a look at.  Why he thought this I do not know.  The note I received from him simply said that there was something odd about the project and it was of great magnitude.  And it said that the project was hidden deep inside the government within a department called the CVD.  Somehow he acquired a disk containing information about the project.  I instructed him to pass the disk to another one of our people in the NSA who could get it out safely and not jeopardize his position.   The person followed the plan and dropped the disk into an envelope where the other mole was to retrieve it and deliver it to me.  The disk never got to the our other mole.  It’s missing.”

     “Missing as in we don’t have a clue where it went?”  she asked.

     “Exactly.  For all we know someone within the NSA intercepted the disk and is now doing everything from fingerprinting its surface to tracking the files back to the creator.”

     “Can they track the creation of files?” she asked as the waiter arrived.

     As the waiter took their orders, William studied Valarie’s face for a glimpse of the character that he always felt would prevail in situations such as this.  From the moment she had arrived he had studied her eyes for a reflection of severity that he had preached.  That austerity was not to be found in her child like face.  William waited for a moment for the man to move to a safe distance before revisiting her question.

     “I’m not sure.  If our man followed our procedures they shouldn’t be able to, but we have questionable knowledge of the kind of applications this government now has,” he replied.

     “Our mole hasn’t heard anything?” she asked

     “Nothing, but it’s only been about twenty-four hours.  Even if the disk was discovered and turned over to a department head, they might not say anything.  They might keep quiet and wait for one of us to make the next move, the wrong move.”

     “So what is that next move?” she asked.

     “The next wrong move is to go back to our man in the NSA who found the project.  He’s done for, kuput.  If his identity has been compromised, he will be bugged from head to toe,” replied William.

     “Will he roll on us?” she asked.

     “No, he’s probably the most loyal member I know,” said William.

     “Is he Mars?” she asked.

     “You know better than to ask such a question,” he replied.

     “So we know the wrong move, so what’s the right move?” she continued.

     “That I am not sure of,” he replied.  “I’ve got a feeling about that disk.  I think it contained what we have been looking for and unfortunately I think we will never get a chance at it again.  What I need is a few days to think, to make another plan.  What I don’t have is the time to think or make another plan.  Something serious in our world is about to occur.”

     “But you and Grunt have been saying that for months.  What does Mars think?”

     “He concurs.”

     “So the consensus is that we may only have a few days left.”

     “The consensus is that we must discover what this something is before they get to us.”

     “Who says they’ll get to us?” she asked.

     “They will.  I know they will,” he replied.

     “But what if this big thing is something like building another zone or another mass inoculation?  Maybe even something good like allowing field trips outside the zones?”

     “You know it’s nothing like that.  I’ve seen too many communications that tell me otherwise.  I need you to find out when this Traveler, Rick Mallory is coming back to our zone.  I need you to pull out all stops in persuading him.”

     The two halted their conversation as the waiter once again approached the table.

     During all of her time spent with William’s group, Val had never engaged the thought of actually risking her life for the cause.  She believed what William had said about his dislike for possibly sending someone on a doomed mission.  She also believed that the situation was becoming desperate.  Moreover she began to regret the difficult character she was portraying.

      “So, when can you meet this guy?”

     “I don’t know.  The last time I was part of the list.  Now I will have to make my way around the department to try and find one.  It will involve some risk.”

     “Don’t get caught,” he answered.

     “Times have changed,” she said.

     “Sorry.  Was it worth it?” he asked.

     “What do you mean?” she replied.

     “I mean, are you sorry you joined up with us?  Would you do it differently if you would have known this moment was coming?” he asked.

     “No, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.  I’m sure of that.  I just want to see us win this.  I want to run free out there.  I want the earth returned to us.”

     “That’s what I want also,” he said.

     “What about Mars?  Does he have reservations, I mean ever?” she asked.

     “Mars?  Never.  You pretty much quoted him in your last statement,” he said.

     “You know you have never told me anything about the man,” she said.

     “It is not by accident,” he replied.

     “Look if I’m going to die for this cause, you can at least give me History 101 on the man,” she said.

     “He is not cloaked in the mystique that you imagine,” he said.

     “But he is an ex-government guy,” she said.

     “Yes, over the years he had seen too many things about our government that he disagreed with.  Along the way he made a few enemies trying to change the views of the government and they subtly asked him to resign by planting a bomb in his car.”

     “A bomb?” she said.

     “Yea,” he said.

     “What happened?  How did he survive?” she asked.

     “His wife took his car that morning,” he replied.

     “Oh my god,” she exclaimed.

     “The time is late, we’d better return to the subject at hand,” he said.  “Meet Mr. Mallory quickly.  Convert him.  I’ll even speak to him if necessary.”

     “I will,” she said.

     “This man is one of the few chances we’ve got left,” he said.

     “I know,” she replied.  “Hey, I meant what I said earlier.”

     “What?” he asked.

     “About wanting everyone to be free,” she said.

     “I know you did,” he replied.  “Let’s hope this Mr. Mallory feels the same.”

<< >>

     When Sherman spun around in his chair, the first thing he noticed was that Ben had somehow snuck into his office and had plopped down into one of the chairs across the desk.  Ben’s silence was the signal to end his telephone conversation and address his presence.  Sherman obliged and ended the dialogue with an instruction to call back tomorrow.

     “Sorry about that,” said
Sherman.

     “Let’s get on with this.  I’ve got to get home at a decent time tonight,” Ben dictated.

     “The preliminaries on the first five have come up with zero.  By Monday we should be finished with background checks on their friends, family and such.  Monday I’ll pick the next five,” said Sherman.

     “Give me the first five names you checked,” said Ben.

     “Gerald C. Pointer - CVD, Kathleen C. Gant - CVD, Darrel M. Treshner - Epidemiology,”

     “I would have thought that guy was dirty,” interrupted Ben.

     “David R. Carter - FBI, Valarie G. DeDory - CVD,” said Sherman.

     “No one from the NSA, or CIA?  What about that Cratcher guy?” asked Ben.