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THE CLUBHOUSE’S BUG-out route dumped us two blocks over, safely away from the scene of so much LEO activity. It had been a shock to remember that we’d left our car in the clubhouse’s garage—the garage decimated by the Black Hawk’s .50cal gun.
“Uh, Nano? Won’t the FBI be able to trace our car back to us?”
We eradicated your vehicle’s VIN and other identifying numbers before the battle, Zander Cruz.
“Very forward-thinking of you.” I was in pain and groaned as I spoke.
We do our best to prepare for any contingency, Jayda Cruz. “The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty.”
Zander propped me up against a twenty-four-hour laundry and called a cab to come and get us. Since we couldn’t return to our apartment, the safest place for us was the house where we met weekly with Gamble and Trujillo. Zander had the cab drop us a block from the house. I agreed with his caution, but that one block seemed like a mile.
I was too exhausted to climb the steps when we reached the back door. Zander carried me up and inside. I held one hand to the burning ache in my groin and cried out when he laid me on the couch.
“Sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”
Every five minutes on our journey from the bug-out hatch to the house, he had peppered the nanomites for updates on my status. Invariably, they had replied, Zander Cruz, we have the matter in hand and are effecting repairs. You do not need to seek medical treatment for Jayda Cruz.
All I knew was that someone had stuck a hot iron low in my abdomen, in front of the right side of my pelvic bone.
“Nano, please help Jayda sleep now,” Zander whispered.
“No, I don’t thin—”
I did not get to vote on that one.
***
THEY HAD KEPT VIGIL all night, planning and giving orders for the early morning strike, only to watch in frustrated amazement as it failed—and spectacularly so. Now the woman paced up and down the room, a cold rage building with each step.
“I am appalled, Danforth. Our strike force was three times the size of the defenders inside that building. And now it is our men who are in FBI custody?”
“You watched the live feed of the battle. You saw what happened.”
She stopped and pointed her finger at him. “I told you the Keyes woman had powers—you saw them yourself when she rescued Trujillo. You should have prepared; it was on you to make adequate arrangements.”
“Adequate arrangements? Neither you nor I knew or understood the extent of Gemma Keyes’ abilities—or, apparently, that both she and her husband now have the same powers—so in what way was I to ‘prepare’ our teams for what we just witnessed?”
He mimicked giving orders, “‘Oh, by the way, Captain, your targets will deploy bullet-proof electrical shields—but, hey, we expect you to overcome those on the fly. Your targets will also throw lightning bolts and possess antigravitational powers—but we require that you prepare for and defeat those insignificant obstacles.’ Is that what you had in mind?”
“I expected strategic thinking from you, Danforth. I see that was my mistake.” She sniffed. “May I at least presume that the men in the FBI’s custody will hold their peace?”
“They are suitably distanced from either of us and can tell the FBI nothing other than they received orders to take down a terrorist nest. Moreover, NSA agents, armed with the proper legal authority, will arrive shortly to release our people from FBI custody.”
She sneered at him. “Very good, Lawrence. I am gratified that you have the recovery aspects of this debacle well in hand.”
Danforth, stung by her condescension, answered, “Despite your lack of appreciation for all I’ve done and continue to do for the cause, I believe you’ve overlooked some vital particulars.”
“Do you? Oh, please—say on, Mr. Danforth.”
“Very well, I will say on: Have you given any thought to how Jayda and Zander Cruz traced Trujillo’s whereabouts to our black site? Trujillo was clean when our operatives took her—no tracking devices—and the route into that site was a maze impossible to navigate without guidance. So how did Jayda and Zander Cruz find their way there within hours of Trujillo’s abduction?”
The woman’s eyes glittered, and her expression hardened. “Very good, Mr. Danforth, very good. You raise a valid point.”
She began to pace, to ponder Danforth’s question.
Danforth let her alone to think. This was where the woman’s brilliance often shone—and she was brilliant, the most strategic deep operative he’d ever worked with, inspiring despite her contempt for incompetence and, in particular, for failure.
Minutes ticked by before she paused. “The nanomites. It had to have been the nanomites.”
“How so?”
“Cushing claimed they had invaded her phones, her computer, even a SCIF. If they are as intelligent and pervasive as she purported them to be . . . perhaps they were able to access our satellite systems.”
“You’re saying they used our own satellites to track the vehicle from Trujillo’s house to our black site? Are you serious?”
One side of the woman’s mouth quirked. “Oh, it sounds so improbable, does it not? And yet from the beginning, General Cushing insisted that the tiny machines would be able to penetrate, to insinuate themselves into any digital system—as long as they had a means to reach it. These possibilities, Lawrence, these fantastic possibilities have fueled our efforts to acquire the nanomites from the beginning.”
She shrugged. “Are they not the technological breakthrough for which we’ve expended so many resources and lives? Imagine the NSA in possession of the nanomites. Imagine—and grasp the staggering implications!”
“If all you assert is true, then I am imagining the implications—the advantages these people possess, and we do not. Until these nanomites are under our control and our direction, we are at a distinct disadvantage and should be concerned for our own operational security. You say they invaded Cushing’s phone?”
“Harmon said Cushing was convinced, yes.”
“Then they could be listening to us at this very moment.”
“Lawrence, we have taken extreme precautions, and I can conceive of no means for them to have discovered who we are. Furthermore, this room is shielded. No signals in or out.” She lifted her chin. “I did think you knew that.”
“Yes, of course. I forgot . . . momentarily.”
“Now that we’ve quelled your concerns—”
“Quelled them? Hardly. What is to keep these . . . nanomites from invading our phones when we leave?”
She turned her head toward him, but her thoughts were elsewhere—a chess master considering not her next move, but the ten beyond that. “What indeed . . .”
“Then you agree that our operational security could be compromised?” Danforth grew more agitated. “Makes me wonder . . . The White House experienced a norovirus outbreak two weeks ago. Four of the six or seven affected employees were our inside agents. An unusual coincidence, don’t you think? Now that we know what these people and their nanomites are capable of, what’s to say the virus wasn’t their work?”
She didn’t answer.
“And if they identified and targeted our agents within the White House, they may have connected them to the Secret Service’s Deputy Assistant Director—and if to Morningside, then to me.”
But not to me, she reminded herself. I have been much too circumspect for that.
“Yes, yes. I can put two and two together, Lawrence. Do let me think.” She put one finger to her lips, silencing him, and resumed her pacing. Back and forth across the carpet she walked, her head bowed in contemplation while Danforth fidgeted.
Thirty minutes elapsed, then an hour. When Danforth could hold back no longer, he blurted, “It is my opinion that we should ditch our phones and institute a communications blackout.”
She stopped her pacing and faced him. “Oh, dear. No. Quite the opposite, Mr. Danforth. This is our opportunity to employ classic countermeasures.”
“What countermeasures?”
“Misinformation, Lawrence. A short-term distraction.”
“You have something in mind?”
“Hmm? Yes. What of the two covert FBI agents embedded in your organization? You have stymied their efforts to date without their suspecting we are on to them. I suggest that we let slip to Jayda and Zander Cruz a few select breadcrumbs that implicate the FBI agents in Wayne Overman’s disappearance. Within those breadcrumbs, an actionable gambit. If Jayda and Zander Cruz act on our ‘intelligence,’ we will know they have, in fact, penetrated our communications.”
She outlined the scenario she wanted Danforth to devise.
“Why Overman? Do you think Jayda and Zander Cruz are concerned with his disappearance?”
“Immaterial. Our objective is to sidetrack Mr. and Mrs. Cruz with this bit of misinformation. If they ‘bite’ on our lure, it will serve two purposes—to confirm, as I said, that they have penetrated our communications, but it will also keep them busy while we focus on the execution of a more effective and longer-term distraction.”
“Why do we need a longer-term distraction?”
“Today we witnessed a true demonstration of the nanomites’ formidable powers, not merely a small sampling of it. Good! With adequate time to study the helmet cam videos, I will identify the nanomites’ strengths—and more importantly, their weaknesses. And when I have ascertained their vulnerabilities, I will formulate a suitable trap. Hence, a longer-term distraction is needed to buy me the time I require.”
She studied Danforth. “You will create that distraction for me, Lawrence. I wish you to locate Mr. and Mrs. Cruz’s closest family and loved ones. Not too many. Gemma Keyes’ elderly neighbor and his foster child and Zander Cruz’s sister and parents should do. Sweep them up and spirit them away.
“The disappearance of Mr. and Mrs. Cruz’s family—and the implied threat of imminent harm to them—should prove adequate to our needs, don’t you think? Jayda and Zander Cruz will turn their attention and efforts to saving those they love. While they do so, I will be devising a nanomite-proof trap. When our trap is ready, we will bait the snare’s tripwire with their loved ones. Mr. and Mrs. Cruz will come to us. Willingly, I should think.”
As frustrating as she often was, Danforth had to admire her. “An inspired ploy.”
She smiled. “Thank you. With the assets of the National Security Agency at your disposal, it shouldn’t take you long to pinpoint the targets. The old man and the child are in Albuquerque; I believe Cruz’s parents live elsewhere in New Mexico. Locate them and send operatives to apprehend them at once.
“And now, Lawrence, I have somewhere I need to be.”
She strode out the facility’s door toward her car, and Danforth followed her. At her vehicle, she spun on her heel; Danforth nearly ran into her.
Laughing to herself, she added, “Goodness. How forgetful of me, Lawrence. I have a team already on the ground in Albuquerque. They can move on the Albuquerque targets as soon as you locate them and give the word.”
“They will hear from me within the hour.”
“Excellent.” She smiled again. “We are close, Lawrence. On every front, we are so very close to our goals. Jayda and Zander Cruz have the nanomites. When we apply the proper inducements and lure them to us, we will have them and the nanomites. The nanomites are our means to full surveillance and control of our ‘democratic’ processes. And when we have that control, nothing can prevent us from taking the remainder of the nation.”
***
JAYDA CRUZ. ZANDER Cruz. We have received an updated report from Danforth’s nanobug array. He has left the shielded facility and is returning to the NSA.
“I’ll take the report, Nano. Jayda needs to rest.”
“I’m . . . awake.” I’d slept only an hour or so and was so groggy I wasn’t sure if I could function, but the nanomites’ message had roused me.
Zander helped me sit up. “How do you feel?”
“I’ll live.” The pain low in the right quadrant of my belly had eased some. What remained felt warm. Swollen, perhaps? “I want to hear the nanobug’s report.”
Zander nodded. “Go ahead, Nano.”
The nanomites hesitated. It is an odd report.
I let Zander ask the obvious, “Odd? In what way?”
It contradicts the facts as we know them, Zander Cruz.
“Well, let’s hear it.”
Danforth texted a message to an unknown confederate in which he tasked the associate to pass on instructions concerning the final disposition of what we inferred is Wayne Overman’s body.
I was, suddenly, a lot more awake than I’d been a few moments ago. “Wayne Overman’s body? Do we know where it is, Nano?”
No, Jayda Cruz. That portion of the text reads, ‘move WO remains tomorrow 2300 hours.’ It does not provide the location of the remains at present.
“Then we’ll follow whomever got the text. Catch them in the act. Not only will we have hard evidence on Danforth, but the President will also be able to give his friend an honorable burial.” I was wide awake and plenty excited now.
Zander put up a cautioning hand. “Wait a sec. Nano? You said the message was odd. Contradictory. What did you mean by that?”
The full text of the message flowed to us.
direct colón tellerman
move WO remains
2300 hours
39.0397° N 76.9341° W
I gaped. “Direct Colón and Tellerman? As in Kiera and Rob? But they’re FBI . . . aren’t they, Nano?”
They are, indeed, Jayda Cruz, which is why the message contradicts what we know to be true. However, we believe the entirety of the array’s report provides context necessary to determine that the text is a ruse, what is called misinformation or a ‘false flag.’
The woman with Danforth devised this ruse to trick you into determining whether or not we are monitoring their communications. The number to which the text was sent belongs to a phone used to call Danforth two months ago, one of the single-use, throwaway phones.
“Huh. What is the location referenced in the text?”
The coordinates pinpoint a spot within a heavily wooded, multi-use municipal park with hiking trails, twelve and a half miles from the NSA compound.
Zander asked, “Why there? Does Danforth plan to capture us in this park?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” I said, holding my aching side. “The open, uncontrolled environment of a wooded area? Danforth and the mystery woman have seen us in action twice. No, I think . . . I think the nanomites are correct. Danforth and the woman have to suspect that we are surveilling them. They can’t be certain, but if we were to show up tonight, it would prove their theory.”
Zander’s chin bobbed. “I get it.”
I added, “It’s a ploy we might have fallen for if we hadn’t already discovered that Rob and Kiera are FBI.”
The ruse has more than one purpose, Zander and Jayda Cruz. While your attention is focused elsewhere, Danforth will be giving instructions to abduct your family members and loved ones.
A chill of dread washed over me. “What?”
Please access the array’s audio, Jayda and Zander Cruz.
Zander and I pulled up the nanobugs’ entire report, including the audio. We listened to Danforth and the woman’s conversation from within the shielded facility—every nuanced word of their wicked schemes.
Then, even though we’d just heard their conversation for ourselves, the nanomites felt it necessary to break it down for us. The abductions will further shift your attention away from Danforth and the mystery woman. You will be preoccupied with locating your family members and unable to adequately interfere with Danforth and the woman.
“Yeah, we’ve figured that out,” I muttered.
The ultimate goal of the abduction is to buy the woman time to devise a trap for us.
Zander ground his teeth. “We get it, Nano.”
The nanomites weren’t finished. The woman has a two-man team in Albuquerque ready to carry out the abductions, Zander Cruz. Immediate action is required.
I was hurting too much to leave the couch, but that didn’t keep me from begging my husband to act. “Zander, call Abe. Izzie, too. Please hurry! Get them into hiding before Danforth’s team reaches them.”
“I’m on it, but where do we send them? Where can they go that the resources of the NSA wouldn’t sniff them out? Where could we safely stash them on such short notice?”
“We know a place in Albuquerque, Zander. Remember?”
My meaning became clear to him. “Right—but what about my parents in Las Cruces?”
“We have a bit more time to consider the best options for them. Our immediate concern is Abe, Emilio, and Izzie—and the team that is already on the ground in Albuquerque. Call Abe now, Zander!”
Zander’s hands shook as he dialed. “Abe?”
“Zander! It’s good to hear your voice, son.”
“Abe.”
“What is it, Zander?”
“Has Emilio left for school yet?”
“You almost missed him. We just finished breakfast and—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Abe, but the situation is urgent. You and Emilio are in danger—as are my sister and my parents. I need you to gather a few things and get out of your house. Now.”
Abe didn’t waste time by asking for the particulars. “How much time do we have, and where do we go?”
“Not much time at all; our enemies already have a team in Albuquerque, and they are on their way.”
Abe put his hand over the phone and bellowed, “Emilio!”
Emilio, eyes wide, ran to Abe. “Yes, sir?”
“Grab your duffle bag. Pack a few changes of clothes and your toothbrush. Hurry.”
Abe turned back to the phone. “Where do we go?”
“Uh, get to DCC. I will coordinate the rest of the arrangements. Park behind the fellowship hall and stay out of sight.”
“Okay. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”
“Abe?”
“Yes?”
“Take whatever staples will sustain you for a few days and wear sturdy shoes—hiking shoes.”
Abe blinked, but he didn’t argue. “I will.”
Zander hung up. The next call would be more difficult. His sister Izzie was not as compliant as Abe.
“Iz?”
“Zander! You caught me on the way out the door to work. I’m so green with envy! I would have come with Abe and Emilio to D.C. if I’d known they were going to spend the Fourth with you guys.”
“Iz—”
“They told me all about it. They had such a good t—”
“Izzie, stop talking and listen to me. You need to do exactly what I tell you.”
“Zander? What do you mean?”
“Shut up and listen, sis. I need you to pack some clothes, put on some sturdy shoes, and meet Abe and Emilio behind DCC. Most important? I need you to leave your apartment in the next five minutes. Do you understand?”
“Zander, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. I need you to be scared enough to do exactly as I’ve told you. Five minutes, Izzie. Get out of your apartment inside of five minutes.”
“What about my job? Should I call in sick?”
“No. Don’t call anyone. No one, hear me? Just go. Meet Abe like I said.”
“O-okay, I will.”
“Promise me? Don’t dawdle. Grab a bag, put on some hiking shoes, and go.”
Izzie must have been sufficiently rattled, because she whispered, “Yes, Zander.”
He hung up and made his third call. “Dr. Bickel? Zander Cruz. We need your help.”
While Zander and Dr. Bickel finished their hurried arrangements, I blew out a breath. I’d just come up with a crazy, outrageous idea for protecting Zander’s parents.
I grabbed my phone and dialed another number. “Gamble?”
“Yeah?”
“You already know that our covers are blown; we’ve just discovered that Danforth is dispatching operatives to Las Cruces to take Zander’s parents into custody.”
“What about Abe and Emilio?”
“We’re handling their situation, but we need an escape plan for Zander’s mom and dad.”
“What can I do, Jayda?”
I took another deep breath. “Do you remember the commandant at White Sands?”
“I talked to him once. My team interfaced with him when they were investigating the house where Dr. Bickel was held.”
“The missile range is close to Cruces. I thought if the ‘right’ person were to speak to the commandant, then he would take Zander’s parents into his protection.”
Gamble made a grunt of agreement. “I had intended to call and update Kennedy anyway. I’ll . . . I’ll request that the President arrange for the commandant to send an armed guard to fetch Zander’s folks, escort them to White Sands, and keep their location on the range on the q.t. Zander’s mom and dad may be scared half silly when soldiers show up to their door, but it’s the fastest, most effective means of getting them under wraps.”
I exhaled in relief. “Thank you. I’ll text you their address, Gamble.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I dropped my phone and put my hand to my side. The ache inside hadn’t fared well under the last stressful minutes. I still felt that unnatural warmth deep within.
“Nano? What’s going on in my body where I took that bullet? Infection?”
No infection, Jayda Cruz. Omega Tribe has surrounded the injury and will facilitate its healing.
“Is that why I feel heat? Is it because Omega Tribe is surrounding the injury?”
Yes. Our clustered members are producing warmth. Do not be concerned.
“Okay. Glad to hear it.”
Zander touched my arm. “Did I hear you talking to Gamble about my mom and dad?”
“Yes. I had an idea, and Gamble was willing to put it into play. He’s going to ask the President to order the commandant of White Sands to pick up your folks and keep them hidden on the missile range.”
“I can’t see an officer refusing a Presidential order. That’s great thinking, Jay. Thank you.”
Zander and I stared at each other, our expressions subdued, maybe a little bleak. We hadn’t foreseen the President’s assignment blowing up like this and endangering those we love.
I wondered if Zander had snapped to the ongoing ramifications. Would we have to start over? Create new identities and new lives? Leave our families behind?
I was first to speak. “The situation is spiraling out of our control. I think the only way we can ultimately keep our family safe is if we take out those who are threatening them. Evidence is important to getting convictions in a court of law, but not as important as stopping this coup. I think we have to change our strategy and go all-out on the offensive.”
“Yeah, but on the offensive against whom? Danforth is obviously not giving the orders—this mystery woman is. Who is she, and why haven’t the nanomites been able to identify her?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. Did you notice that Danforth never calls her by name? She calls him Lawrence, but he never addresses her. She has to be Danforth’s caller who uses a phone once and then throws it away—which tells us she is very savvy and very careful.”
“All those hours with Danforth, and we haven’t an inkling of who she is.”
“The nanobugs recorded their conversations and snooped through Danforth’s digital data, but that didn’t provide them with an image of the woman they can ID.”
Zander pondered our dilemma. “But we did glimpse part of a face—just for a moment—on the other end of the video call when we were rescuing Trujillo. Did anything about that face ring a bell?”
Zander had touched on what had been nagging at me in my subconscious mind. When I called up my remembrance of the partial face, it was tinged with faint familiarity, but it frustrated me.
“Something’s bugging me, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Maybe the nanomites can help us?” Zander suggested. “They may have better recollections than we do.”
“Nano. Bring up Trujillo’s rescue, when we took out her captors.”
We stepped into the warehouse, and the nanomites replayed what they had “heard” and “seen.” Their take was more complete than what I had noticed—you know, while I was preoccupied with zapping the crud out of Trujillo’s captors.
The nanomites played back the audio of our attack: We heard us breaching the mess hall, heard the crackle of current building and the loud ‘snap/pop’ of bolts shooting from me to stun Trujillo’s interrogators, first the man and then the woman. Soon after, the nanomites showed us the digital feed they’d captured from the video chat: A partial image—one side of a face—appeared for an instant within the tablet’s screen, before the image was replaced by a hand slapping a laptop lid closed.
The nanomites “rewound” and zoomed in on the half face: It was a woman whose features appeared to be a mix of ethnicities, her one visible eye an unusual color.
Zander did not make the third connection—how could he have? But I did, and it hit me like a fist punch to the sternum, stealing my breath away.
A serpent’s head rose from the mist, its golden eye fixed on me. While I watched, the serpent’s image slid over the woman’s face, eye upon eye. A perfect match. The same color.
Every nerve in my body screamed, and my jaw clenched so hard I had trouble speaking.
“Sh-she-she . . . it’s her. The head of the snake!”
~~**~~
