The Victor Project (6 page)

     “These people are in every zone, don’t kid yourself,” Ben began.  “We have got to find these militants at all costs.  The percentage of escape attempts are up dramatically in all of the zones for this year.  To make matters worse, herds of cattle and wild horses have been sighted close to the zone barriers, which I’ll be the first to say is a wondrous sight, but it gives the wrong impression of the danger that’s really out there.

     I want to make this clear, these orders are straight from the top.  If we don’t take care of this little rebel propaganda-party that’s going on in our zones, our chief will find someone else to do it and I don’t think that will be pretty for anyone.  Last but not least, the mission discussed in this room is top-secret and on a need-to-know basis only.  We don’t want to scare these rats back under the floor and end up wasting a shit-load of time and money.”

     “Frank, keep an eye on your Travelers,”
Sherman jumped back in.  “We think that they are one of the main targets of these people, since they are one of the few who leave the zones on a regular basis.  Kruck will help you put a couple of tails on them.  Kruck, maybe you should even have a couple of your undercover guys buddy up with them and get them to open up.

     Jon, tighten up security around your department.  Limit the number of documents that float around with information that they could use.  We feel that any negative results from your studies could be easily used as ammunition for their propaganda.  How many zones studies do you have currently active?”

     “Literally hundreds,” Jonathan replied.

     “How many of them are VL6 studies?” asked
Sherman.

     “Maybe twenty or so,” he replied.

     “Keep a close eye on those.  And no new VL4, 5, or 6 studies without my permission, got it?” said Sherman.

    “Yes sir,” said Jonathan.

    “And for now, let’s limit any press from your office, good or bad,” said Sherman.

     “Done,” said Jonathan.

     “Kruck, concerning the undercover duty involving Frank’s team, I know you’ve got a good number of people posted as wallpaper already.  Do you have some extras?” asked Sherman.

     “I’ve got a lot of them assigned to non-zone immigration.  Ben can vouch for that,” answered Kruck.

     “We can’t cannibalize those groups,” said Ben.

     “How many of your wallpaper can be re-assigned quickly?” asked
Sherman.

     “I can probably scrape up enough from them to get the job done,” answered Kruck.

     “Let’s get them assigned to this pronto.” continued Sherman.  “And I want two of your people from each zone Kruck, with the dedicated mission of infiltrating this group.”

     “I want these fuckers in front of a firing squad with in two months.  Everyone got that?” said Ben.

     “I want a report on my desk from each of you at the end of every week.  That is all gentlemen,” Sherman interjected.

     Sherman and Ben were on a mission
.  That was for certain.  The tell tale sign wasn’t in their language, or gestures, or even the long drawn out speeches, those were nine-to-five for Crane and Brothers.  What made it real was Sneak, as Frank now referred to him, sitting in the back of the room, burning holes in the back of everyone’s head.  Actually, instilling a quiet sense of fear into everyone in attendance may have been his one and only purpose for sitting in the meeting.  The NSA really dug that mental torture shit.  Ben should have just lied and said Sneak was one of his cronies.  That would have been sufficient for everyone in the room.  With one last look, Frank made it a point to memorize Sneak’s face.

     This search and destroy mission was even forcing Ben to rely hugely on the CIA for support and Ben Brothers hated depending on them in any way shape or form.  Wallpaper was the CIA’s new buzz word for their people who were now living in the zones as everyday Joes, housewives, bakers, mechanics, you name it.  Everybody in the business knew they were out there and it was no doubt that the PERFs knew.  What bothered Frank and probably Ben as well, was why the department hadn’t already come up with a bad guy or a solid lead.  

     CVD was now under the control of Sherman Crane visa-vi Ben Brothers visa-vi the NSA.  It was only two years back that it was a minuscule branch hanging from the Epidemiology department tree.  It was around that time that someone higher up decided that the branch needed to be nurtured from a different soil, so they broke it off and gave it to Farmer Sherman.  On paper it is officially not a part of the NSA and officially not utilizing any funds designated specifically for the NSA, but all of that made less sense every time Frank sat in a room with Ben.

     Once
Sherman announced the meeting was adjourned, Frank didn’t hesitate to head straight for the door.  Sitting around and talking shop with Sherman and the boys after hours was last on his list of kicks.  After a quick stop in his office to exchange his notepad for his briefcase, he headed for the elevator.  Jon was already waiting when he stepped around the corner.

     “Ben didn’t collar you for a post meeting pep talk?” joked Frank.

     “Are you kidding?  I was eating your dust running out the door,” replied Jon.

     “Hey, how about a drink?” asked Frank.

     “I don’t know,” replied Jon.

     “Come on.  We haven’t been to your favorite bar in a while,” said Frank.

     “My favorite?” said Jon.

     “All right, it’s mine.  Let’s not get picky.  I’ll buy all your drinks,” said Frank.

     “You’re on.  I might just drink more than my standard two tonight,” joked Jon.

     “I’ll take my chances,” said Frank as he held open the elevator door to finish his comment.

     “I’ll drop my stuff in the car and meet you back at the front door,” said Jon.

     Running into Jon post-meeting was a good sign.  Over the past year, he wasn’t sure how much of a company-man Jon had become.  Jon had said a few things here and there that made him think he had been sticking his nose up the boss’s ass, but on other occasions, he let his feelings be known that he could take the job or leave it.  Seeing him out of the meeting quickly provided Frank with a little reassurance that the latter was still true.

     Among other things, Frank wanted to get Jon’s opinion on what the hell was going on with this Sherman-Ben tag team extravaganza.  Jon would be straight with him, he knew that, but it was quite possible that Jon was in the dark as much as he.  He was already standing out front of the building when Frank returned through the doors.

     “Where the hell did you go?  I was two floors below you,” said Jon.

     “I’m getting slow in my old age.  What did you do, jog to your car?” joked Frank.

     “Actually, my car was right next to the elevator,” replied Jon.

     “So let’s hear it,” said Frank as they started walking toward the bar.

     “I assume you want my input about that locker-room covert bullshit we just heard,” said Jon.

     “All of it,” said Frank.

     “OK, here’s my take.  Somebody’s scared, you can tell that.  I don’t think it’s due to just some rise in escape attempts either,” said Jon.

     “I’m with you on that,” said Frank.

     “And I also think that they already have a suspect.”

     “You mean a spy?” asked Frank.

     “Yea, that or they know someone who is talking covertly to these freaks.  Either way they know more than they were saying,” he continued.

     “That’s always the case.  What do you think about Mr. Sneak?” asked Frank.

     “Who?”

     “Seaking.  The way he sat there quietly in the back of the room, I started calling him Sneak,” said Frank.

     “Cute.  Sneak must be someone else’s boy, maybe FBI.”

     “No, not FBI, but definitely someone else’s set of eyes, someone important enough and interested enough, but someone that can’t attend a meeting like that one,” said Frank.

     “Someone that wants control, but can’t be associated with this mission,” said Jon.

     “Especially if it goes sour,” remarked Frank.

     “Right, so if it’s not FBI, then whom does he work for?”

     “You know, there was a rumor that Sherman reported directly to the president,” said Frank.

     “Don’t give me that shit.  You know the president doesn’t care about your little measly operation.”

     “Thanks, Mr. World Epidemiology,” said Frank.

     Frank held the front door to allow Jon to enter the bar first.  The place was somewhat empty, but then again it was a Tuesday night.  The waitress was standing at the table before they were both seated.

     “Two Caraboos,” said Frank.

     “One of those will be enough for tonight,” said Jon.

     “I know what I’m doing when I offer to pay,” said Frank.  “Let’s answer another question.  Why are Sherman and Ben so scared?”

     “Hey, this place could be bugged,” said Jon.

     “Give me a break.  You sound like Kruck.  You actually think that they have every booth in this bar bugged or were we just that unlucky to sit in the only one?”

     “I just try to watch what I say in public,” said Jon.

     “I do too, but I think we’re safe here.  So what’s got them shaking?” Frank continued.

     “I don’t know,” answered Jon.

     “Think of it as if you were Ben.  Why would you care if some group out there didn’t think the way you do?  There’s always some left wing faction for every right.  But what if they had information, information that you knew would hurt you?  Information that you knew was true and could be backed.”

     “OK, so they know something important.  Like what?” asked Jon.

     “Like maybe there really is no reason that we can’t live out there.”

     “Come on Frank, you talk like that and you’re going to end up disappearing one day.”

     “No listen.  That has to be it.  This PERF group has some creed that says people should be free to live outside the zones and they base their crusade upon some mumbo jumbo about the government not being honest about past epidemics, future outbreaks, whatever.  You’ve heard things like this for years, but now all of the sudden, Ben and his cronies got the dogs out and are loading the shotguns.  Someone has found something out, or someone from the inside leaked something out.”

     “Yea and it could be that it’s just a political year and that one of the parties doesn’t want any negative cultural events to impact the election,” said Jon.

     “Pretty thin,” said Frank.

     “About as thin as yours,” said Jon.

     “Tell me you haven’t heard someone else talking like this,” said Frank.

     “Yea, but I keep my mouth shut and go on surviving in this screwed up world.  Screwed up like it has been for hundreds of years.  I’m not going to change that and neither are you.  I get up in the morning, kiss my wife and kids goodbye and come home in the evening.  Not too bad I say.”

     “You turned company-man on me?” asked Frank.

     “I’m as much a company-man as you,” said Jon.

     “Don’t think I didn’t hear that yes sir crap in the meeting,” joked Frank.

     “Yea and you were practically saluting the son-of-a-bitch every time he spoke to you,” joked Jon.

     “Bullshit,” remarked Frank.  “I’ll tell you what, they are scared.  I can feel it.  Something bad is going to come out of all this.”

     “Now you sound like some militant yourself.”

     “No, I got a bad feeling about this one,” replied Frank. 

CHAPTER 4

     Val entered the bakery and headed straight for the counter where the clerk was ringing up the bill for the only customer in the place.  She kept an eye on the door as she chose a couple of pastries to purchase and listened to their casual conversation.  He wouldn’t dare enter a place as empty as this, she thought to herself.  But he would definitely pass in front of the place to keep his target in check. 

     “Can I help you?” asked the clerk.

     “Yes, could I please have one of those and one of those,” she replied.

     “We have a special.  You can purchase any four of our pastries for seven dollars.  That saves you ninety cents,” he said.

     Val tried to keep track of the people on the sidewalk as she listened.

     “All right, give me two of those please,” she said.

     “Is everything all right mam?” he asked.

     “Yes, everything is fine.  I just don’t want my friend to pass by without seeing me,” she lied.

     “I understand.  I’ll try to hurry,” he said.

     Val dug the money from her purse and handed it to the young man.  As he placed the items in the bag, Val contemplated hanging out in the place for a little while longer with the pretense of eating one of the pastries, but she was cutting the time close for her meeting with William.  Bag in hand, she slowly made her way towards the door.

     “Have a nice day,” said the clerk.

     Just as she was stepping out the door, a man darted inward from the sidewalk rather quickly and the two abruptly collided. 

     “I’m sorry,” he said.

     Val looked him straight in the face to see if he was the one.

     “I’m so clumsy, forgive me,” she replied.

     If that would have been him, she wasn’t sure what would have happened.  She was so nervous she probably would have screamed.

     The block was rather empty for eleven o’clock in the morning.  She paused and pulled a pastry from the bag as an excuse to glance around.  The face she had thought was following her was nowhere in sight.  Where did he go?  She was sure she was being followed this time.  William would be livid if he found out she allowed herself to be tailed.

     She caught the man less than twenty minutes ago staring at her in the bookstore.  The display of new novels sat in the immediate path between the front doors and the counter.  To the right was a small area of appropriately placed couches and chairs to give the joint more ambiance.  She didn’t see him enter the store because she became engrossed in Winton Sholes’ latest novel about the old west that had just hit the shelves.  Sholes had written numerous non-fiction pieces about the history of the United States and Val had read all of them.  Her favorite to date was his novel about the French Revolution.  As she grabbed the
The Untamed Territory
from the shelf she saw a man standing in the Religion section, pretending to read a book he had retrieved from the shelf.  Clearly his eyes were on her when she saw him.  Something about the man told Val he wasn’t the religious type and he certainly did not look like a professor.  He looked more like the type that would be reading self-help literature.

     It was one of those gut feelings that she had gotten in the past.  Whether it was about ordering food or buying a piece of furniture, her gut always seemed to steer her in the right direction.  At that moment her gut told her to get the hell out of the bookstore and lose the man.  To make it less obvious, she allowed a few more moments as she thumbed through some of the authentic pictures of the old west.  Val loved the photos, they brought life to the characters giving her imagination that extra charge and allowing herself to get lost in the book.  For now her imagination and her favorite author had to wait.

     Returning the book to its place on the shelf, she marched out the door and picked up the pace as she drew further from the door.  She wanted desperately to purchase the novel, but carrying or wearing an item that would make a subject easily identifiable was forbidden.  As she approached a bakery, she decided to use it as the place to confirm her suspicions.  First she would walk passed the entrance to the bakery and after one block would quickly double back.  There was no way a tail would do the exact same double-back, it was too risky.

     At the end of the block, she had crossed the intersection and allowed herself to go another twenty feet before spinning around with a gesture that suggested she forgot something.  As she completed her about-face she saw the bookstore man again.  He played it cool and passed her close enough that she could smell his cologne.  Within a few steps of him passing, the cross-light turned green and Val darted through the intersection, continuing a brisk pace all the way to the bakery.

     Now looking back at the event, she was proud of the way she handled the threat.  From the perspective outside the bakery, her double-back seemed to have forced him to give up.  He most likely knew he had been made.  Val took a deep breath after swallowing a bite of the pastry to adjust her nerves.  Now she had to make sure that he wasn’t part of some team.  The double-back was just one trick that William had taught her.  She needed another trick just to make sure she was free.  Over time each of the PERF members had also developed their own extra gimmicks to throw a tail, such as taking a taxi one block, exiting it and getting into another in the opposite direction or asking a stranger a question and hoping the tail would follow them.  There were many she had learned and all were effective.  Her favorites were walking down an alley or driving in the wrong direction on a one-way road.

     Over the course of traveling the next few blocks, Val kept a constant visual for familiar vehicles or faces.  But as she neared her meeting place, it now seemed evident that the bookstore man was working alone, if he really was a tail.  Slowly she bent down to tie her shoe in the doorway of the building where she was to meet her contact.  The tying the shoe trick allowed her to glance left and right quickly to see if anyone had frozen in their tracks.  This morning’s sidewalk traffic continued as usual.

     On this occasion, she was to enter the building and head straight for the stairwell, making her way to parking level P4 and entering the passenger side of a green B4G, which was to be parked exactly seventeen spaces down on the right.

     Val decided before she got to the building that she would keep the story of being tailed to herself.  Besides, she wasn’t really sure it was a tail, it could have just been her imagination.  That’s probably what William would say to her anyway if she brought it up.  Even if he did believe her, there’s nothing they could do about it now.  The only outcome of telling him would be that he would become upset and proceed into a lecture.  

     Her contact today was simply known as William, at least that’s what his code name was.  She had always just called him William and nothing more.  He was Mars vice president, so to speak, but from the gentle way he carried himself you would never guess.  The William she knew had a quiet demeanor and gave the impression that he commanded no one, much less all of the PERF underground for the seven zones. 

     Mars was the true leader of the PERFs, the unknown faceless leader.  Of all of the PERF members she had worked with, not one had ever seen his face, or at least none of them would admit to it.  He communicated only through computers, phone calls and messages and never to anyone directly.  People in the underground also gossiped that he was once head of one of the government departments, someone very high up.  The story was that around ten years ago he escaped the system by faking his death, which allowed him to begin his new life as a crusader for the people.  If all that was true then he couldn’t afford for anyone to see his face, a face that would easily be recognized by an old government peer.

     It seemed that there was always one mysterious visionary behind any non-conformist group.  Someone who had somehow gained the respect and loyalty of a number of others who wanted to bleed for his cause.  Mars was that visionary, but when Val looked at William, she saw that same stereotype persona.  Unlike Mars, there were no rumors floating around about William and any questions to extract the history from the man were tactfully averted.

     One crystalline trait of William’s was his plain and simple charm.  In particular, Val always thought he was ruggedly handsome.  He was the kind of man that you could stare at for hours without him saying a word.  It was as if his face emanated feelings and thoughts like a bulb emitted light.  She had never met anyone like him and could see how hundreds who follow him with relentless loyalty.  In the back of her mind, she had always thought that William was really the mysterious Mars.

     William was already seated in the driver’s seat of the B4G as she approached.  Even with the windows tinted his image was still slightly visible in the poorly lit garage.  The vehicle was also parked with its nose facing inward to preclude any passerby from taking notice.   As Val opened the passenger door and slipped into the seat she noticed that William’s mustache had grown.  She always thought it had been a disguise.  Either way she hated it.   

     “You weren’t followed,” asked William.

     “No, you ask me that every time.”

     “And I always will.  It is good to see you again.  How have you been?” he asked.

     “Fantastic,” she replied sarcastically.

     “See, why do I ask?”

     “I’m sorry.  I’ve been fine.  I just don’t like meeting as often as we have,” she said.

     “Neither do I, but our adversaries have become restless and now we must begin a more aggressive approach to completing the overall mission of our group,” he continued.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I mean we have come across information that will help us expose this corruption and free the people, but we need to act on a more accelerated scale than ever before,” he answered.

     “And I have a scary feeling that the accelerated scale involves a faster me,” she said.

     “Correct. You made a contact a couple of days ago.  His name was Rick Mallory?” he asked.

     “Yea, I made the contact.”

     “So what is your analysis?”

     “The potential is there, but I need more time to get him to open up, find contacts, ties, things like that.”

     “There is no time,” said William.

     “That’s what you guys always say.”

     “Yep, and this time we really mean it.  This Rick Mallory is our only real chance of breaking into the department computers.  Unlike you, standard protocol gives each of the Travelers their own individual system ID.  I think with his computer access, we can get our hands on enough data to expose the government.” 

     “So I just drag him in here and get him to listen,” she said.

     “It will be difficult, but I recall that it took minimal persuasion for you to make a commitment,”

     “OK, OK, so I convince this guy that he’s marching to the wrong beat.  Then you’re going to convince him to breach a government secured system and possibly get himself killed?”

     “I am confident that he will see the truth,” William replied.

     “You’re crazy.”

     “Actually, we are rebels and we are desperate,” he replied.  “Can you convince this Rick Mallory to see the light?”

     “Yes, I think so,” she replied.

     “And do it quickly?” he asked.

     “Maybe.”

     “That’s my girl.  Here’s the plan that Mars has put together.  With our time table being short, we will have to move with what little information we have.  We know of a large project that the government has increasingly committed more of its time and money toward.  From what our people inside tell us, it is probably the biggest project the government has ever undertaken.  The project is called Victor and it is classified at the highest level.  Only a handful of people know its true purpose.  When something is that top-secret, its dangerous.”

     “So how did we find out about this Victor Project,” she asked.

     “What I have told you is all we know.  Ordinarily our protocol would require working one of our people into the project, but we are not afforded that much time.  The one thing I haven’t told you yet is that we’re pretty sure the outcome of this project will occur sometime within the next few months.” 

     “Like maybe the entire population of the planet has only three months to live?” Val joked.

     “What you joke about is quite possibly the truth, we just don’t know and we can’t afford to wait.  Tonight one of our people is going to attempt to copy a disk holding information of the project and get it outside of the department.  If they are caught, the impact could be two fold against us.  Exposure of such espionage could also mean that the government would move up the timetable of the project, tighten security, pull it from the department our people are in, or simply shut it down all together.”

     “So where does Rick Mallory fit into this?” she asked.

     “The second part of our mission is to hack into the Department of Epidemiology’s main computers.  For the past two years we have been working a PERF into DOE and they have been somewhat successful in supplying us with information.  A little bit here and a little bit there, but nothing substantial.  Given time that person could probably gain enough clearance to steal the results of all the recent viral studies.  Given time he could gather information that I think would solidify our stand that there is a whole safe beautiful world out there that we should enjoy freely.  My fear is that now there is no time left and Rick is our only hope providing that clearance and that information.