The Victor Project (18 page)

     “You know the P300 only receives to three-hundred yards.  Even then you can get a lot of interference,” remarked Pete.

     “Yea, I helped you test the damn thing, remember?” said Frank.

     “Yea, I remember.  You tested it by pointing the god damn thing towards my bedroom one night.  I still owe you for that,” said Pete.

     “For the number of laughs I’ve gotten from that over the years, I owe you big-time,” remarked Frank.

     “When you need it?” asked Pete.

     “Tomorrow,” replied Frank.

     “Tomorrow?  You sound like
Sherman,” said Pete.

     “Sorry.  I just need it quickly.  I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” said Frank.

     “Yea, Yea.  I’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow at Bernards and you’re buying,” said Pete.

     “I’ll buy you everything on the menu,” said Frank.    

CHAPTER 10

      Even though Frank hadn’t mentioned it, Pete had easily guessed that the reservations were under the name of Belker and had already taken a seat at the table.

     “Punctual as always,” said Frank as he approached the table.

     “What else do I have going on that would cause me to be late?” joked Pete.

     “Since when did you start drinking wine?” asked Frank.

     “Since these ritzy places don’t carry shit for beer,” said Pete.  “So what’s new with the department.”

     “There’s something heavy going down right now, something I can’t put my finger on,” answered Frank.

     “What do you mean?” asked Pete.

     “Remember that faction that was always trying to convince the masses that they should live freely outside the zones?” asked Frank.

     “Yea, they were called PERFs,” remarked Pete.

     “Well, Sherman and Ben have gone on an all-out hunt for them.  They’re holding nothing back,” said Frank.

     The waiter appeared from out of nowhere and startled Frank.

     “Can I get you something to drink?” asked the man.

     “Just some tea please,” said Frank.

     “They’ve been chasing those guys for years,” said Pete.

     “Yea, but this time everyone’s looking, all the resources, CIA, NSA, CVD, everyone.  It’s like they have some deadline,” said Frank.

     “Maybe they’re tired of dicking around with this group?” said Pete.

     “No, it’s bigger than that.  I can feel it.  It’s almost as if they’ve become scared of this group.  Like these PERFs have discovered something that can topple them,” said Frank.

     “Have the PERFs’ numbers grown?” asked Pete.

     “No, not that we know of.  You heard anything?” asked Frank.

     “Are you kidding?  I’m out of that bullshit.  You’re the first government employee I’ve spoken to in three years,” said Pete.

     “You know I’ve always had a sixth sense about Sherman.  I’m not imagining this.  They’ve become scared and as a defense mechanism they are sending out the dogs,” said Frank.

     “So, they finally catch these guys and the world lives happily ever after,” said Pete.

     “I don’t care if they catch these guys or not.  It’s whatever is pushing them to the edge of panic that is scaring me,” said Frank.

     “And that’s why you need this receiver,” remarked Pete.

     “Well, I’m not sure I’m on the right track with that.  It might just be a coincidence,” said Frank.

     “And this coincidence involves one of your employees,” said Pete.

     “Yea, I caught her copying one of the Travelers tasks lists, so I followed her.  She met up with the guy, but I couldn’t get much from watching them from a distance,” said Frank.

     “Could be just a love thing,” said Pete.

     “That’s one of my possibilities.  But I can’t piece together when or where they would have previously met.  And if they have met before, why didn’t they just exchange phone numbers instead of her having to track him down using the list?” remarked Frank.

     “Could be just a coy little game she’s playing.  Women love that shit,” said Pete.

     “That’s what the P is going to tell me,” said Frank.

     Just as Pete was about to reach into his breast pocket for the P300, the waiter returned. 

     “Do you know what you would like to order?” asked the man.

     “We haven’t even looked at the menus yet.  Can you give us a few more minutes?” asked Frank.

     “I’ll come back,” said the man.

     When the waiter was a few steps away, Pete removed a six-inch box from his jacket, placing it on the table near Frank’s right hand.  Frank quickly snatched the box and opened it ever so slightly to get a view of the device.

     “That’s not the same P300 that we tested a few years ago,” said Pete.

     “What do you mean?” asked Frank.

     “I added a few mods to it,” said Pete.

     “Like?” asked Frank.

     “Like I took a filter from another bug your guys have been working on.  This filter can take any jamming signal it picks up and break it down, kind of like an algorithm.  Once it finishes compiling the correct algorithm, it distinguishes the dirt from the signal you want and cleans it, so to speak.  What I’m trying to say is that thing is a super P300.  Nobody has one like it and no one can jam it,” said Pete.

     “You’re still dangerous,” said Frank.

     “That’s what my wife says.  You know, with the ear-piece being wireless, you can hide the main unit anywhere up to a few feet,” Pete remarked.

     “I was thinking of a rolled up newspaper,” said Frank.

     “Try inside an empty cup,” remarked Pete.

     “Not bad,” said Frank.

     “Remember, no more than three-hundred yards.  I can guarantee you won’t hear anything beyond that,” said Pete.

     “Got it,” said Frank.

     “And I don’t want to hear that you used the damn thing on me again,” said Pete.

<< >>

     “We can’t keep turning up zero, as you put it,” said Ben.

     “It’s not some game Ben.  I can’t just say I give up and they all come out of hiding,” said
Sherman.

     “How many people we got under surveillance right now?” asked Ben.

     “About thirty-six,” answered Sherman.

     “Add at least three more to that,” said Ben.

     “It’s bad enough that we have to worry about this PERFs., but now these terrorists,” said Sherman.

     “Either one can make life rough for us,” Ben remarked.

     “The only consolation is that we will leave those fucks behind to rot.  After I’m gone, they can run naked through the fucking forest for all I care,” said Sherman.

     “The ones that survive this virus just might do that,” said
Sherman.

     “No one has lived so far,” stated Ben.

     “Except the terrorists,” said Sherman.

     “I’m not sure what we’ll do when the time comes to return.  I’m sure GEP has some sort of satellite that can detect human life-forms on earth.  Given that they could still carry a strain of the virus, we might have to terminate them,” said Ben.

     “And if there are thousands of survivors?” asked Sherman.

     “That will be a difficult decision my friend,” answered Ben.  “First we need to get to that space station and survive the virus ourselves.”

     “I got my tag sheet last night.  It says something about my living quarters being on B-deck,” said Sherman.

     “Yea, that’s what mine says.  It’s probably the common part of the station where everyone lives,” remarked Ben.

     “Pretty scary concept, us living in space for a few years.  Especially without any training,” said Sherman.

     “What kind of training do we need?  You just get up there and survive.  The entire time we’re in that crate, we’ll all keep busy planning the new government for our return,” said Ben.

     “Looks like it might be a one government world,” said Sherman.

     “Democracy wins at last,” said Ben.

     “Speaking of which, how many are going from D.C.?” asked Sherman.

     “With the House, Senate and Congress so small, I would guess all of them,” said Ben.

     “You know it’ll take years for us to get just one of the zones functioning again, the nuclear plants, water and sewer service, trash pickup, you name it.  I estimate it will take about a thousand years for the population to grow enough to fill just one city,” said Sherman.

     “Never thought of it like that.  Maybe we WILL need a certain number of people on earth to survive this thing.  I can’t imagine this planet without a few million people fumbling about,” said Ben.

     “Then, by the time we get one zone running, the other abandoned ones will be so run down that we might as well start from scratch,” said Sherman.

     “What are you all of the sudden, some social scientist?” asked Ben.

     “No, I guess all of this is hitting me kind of suddenly,” said Sherman.

     “Well you’re painting a pretty bleak picture Sagan,” said Ben.

      “OK, I’ll change the subject.  What’s the status on the virus?” asked Sherman.

     “Last I heard there are only two uninfected zones left outside the
U.S., but that was a couple weeks ago.  They could both be ghost-towns by now,” he replied.

     “But no status on the cure,” he remarked.

     “No.  I think they have pretty much given up on it,” he replied.

     “Maybe the CDC will come up with something after we evacuate,”
Sherman remarked.

     “Not likely, just about all the CDC staff is going with us, at least all the ones capable of beating this thing,” Ben replied.

     “At least all the other species will survive,” remarked Sherman.

     “Yea, if I could change my DNA structure, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” said Ben.

      “Poor bastards,” said Sherman.

     “You talking about the ones staying or leaving?” asked Ben.

     “We’re all poor bastards,” said Sherman.

     “Well the ones we’re leaving behind certainly are,” Ben remarked.

     “How much longer do you think we can keep this virus a secret?” asked Sherman.

     “I don’t know.  Until it hits the
U.S. I suspect.  So far we’ve done a pretty good job.  What I’m concerned about is which U.S. zone the terrorists strike first,” Ben remarked.

     “This has to be their primary target, with the CDC and all,”
Sherman remarked.

     “I always considered D.C. the primary, but you’ve got a point,” said Ben.

     “There’s always the space station,” said Sherman.

     “You mean to infect C-Orbit?  There’s no way they have any knowledge of it,” said Ben.

     “Pull your head out of the sand Ben.  First, we don’t know how secure the other governments have been about C-Orbit.  Second, we don’t know what information the terrorists have acquired from these ghost-towns as you put it.  They could have read the entire Victor Project file after everyone in the zone expired.  Third, we don’t know who these terrorists are.  They could be ex-CIA or NSA for all we know,” remarked Sherman.

     “Come on Sherm.  You know these freaks aren’t one of us.  They’re probably a bunch of rogue Euro-CDC chemists who convinced themselves that they’re the modern day messiah.  I can’t believe our Tactical Defense squads didn’t terminated them months ago,” said Ben.

     “That’s what I’m saying.  Why can’t we find these guys?  Why don’t we know more about them?  Hell Ben, you know if these were a bunch of amateur fuck-ups we’d already be covering up their deaths.  I think these guys got their shit together and I hope someone’s being proactive about protecting this space-station,” said Sherman.

     “Well, I don’t think there is much we can do about it now, with the adjusted launch in four days,” said Ben.

     “You know I just thought of something.  Do you realize that if the only people that board this space station are U.S. inhabitants, that there will be entire races of humans lost.  I’m talking about languages, cultures and traditions,” said Sherman.

     “Yea, I think about it,” said Ben.

     “All of us,” said Sherman.

     “All of us what?” asked Ben.

     “We’re all poor bastards,” said Sherman.

<< >>

     When Val turned the corner, Rick was sitting at the bus stop looking like a normal urban commuter waiting to begin his journey home.  From the description she had given him, he recognized her car and immediately darted from the bench toward the edge of the sidewalk.

     “That was subtle,” said Val as he closed the car door.

     “What?” asked Rick.

     “You jumped up like somebody was shooting at you,” she said.

     “Maybe you are my wife and I am excited to see you,” said Rick.

     “Then you should have kissed me the instant you slid in,” she said.

     “I’ll remember that next time, spy-teacher,” he joked.  “Where are we going?”

     “William picked an old warehouse south of the city,” she answered.

     “I’m kind of nervous,” remarked Rick.

     “Don’t be.  William is really sincere.  You’ll like him instantly,” she said.

     “I just hope he likes me,” said Rick.

     “He will,” said Val.

     Frank had been following Val since the time she left her apartment.  She had made only one stop on the corner of Sheffield and twenty-ninth to pick up another passenger.  That passenger was none other than Rick Mallory.  So far it seemed that all the pawns in his spy game were playing some part.  The manner in which Rick had jumped into her vehicle made it appear that he was extremely nervous.  So far it didn’t seem like a  playful romantic interlude.