“YOU LOOK WONDERFUL, MARIA. And your hair is, as usual, well, uh—unique.” Mark stood at the door to Maria’s apartment. She wore a dark-brown dress that highlighted her olive skin. She had a messy bun off to one side of her head with two stick-like things crossing through it like swordsmen fighting to the death.
She smiled and grabbed her coat before taking his arm. “I like to mess around with it, but never mind about my hair. It’s so good to see you again, and all in one piece.”
“Yeah. Sorry again for disappearing on you. It was a crazy time. I just couldn’t get away to call you.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” She relaxed her grip on his arm and tried not to show how much she cared for him. With what he’d been through, it could be years before they could have a real relationship.
“I have something to show you.” Mark’s eyes sparkled.
Maria smiled, happy to see him excited about something.
They stepped out of the elevator and into the dark parking garage, and Mark hit the fob on his keychain, then led her toward the lights that flashed in the corner to a sleek sports car.
She looked at the silver car, then back at Mark. “It is so cute!”
He laughed. “Cute? No way. An Ascari KZ1 is not cute. You can say it’s cool, amazing, beautiful… but not cute.”
She laughed. “Whatever you say. Take me for a ride in this amazingly beautiful, cool, wonderful car of yours.”
He opened the passenger door and helped her get in. As they drove, she tried to ask how he got the car, but Mark hushed her, telling her one day he would tell her the whole story. He winked at her. “But for now, just enjoy the ride.”
As Mark drove, Maria checked out the car’s interior, playing with every button and light she could find. She giggled when she pushed a button and the monitor for the DVD player flipped out.
“You’re having way too much fun with that.”
“Well, it’s not every day I get to ride in a fancy sports car.”
She eyed Mark, wondering if it would be proper to tell him how good he looked in the dark suit with silver pin-striping, red shirt and a matching tie. He looked like he was ready for the red carpet on Oscar night.
Just as she was about to speak, he pulled up to the front door of the restaurant, where they were met by the valet, who took the keys with eager fingers and smiled a huge smile.
Maria grinned. There was one man who was glad he didn’t call in sick tonight.
Though she’d never been to Le Cirque, she’d read it was an elegant restaurant with an exceptional selection of French food plus a great view of the city. Mark took her arm and escorted her up the stairs and into the restaurant. The waiter showed them to their table, which overlooked downtown New York. The brightly lit skyline glimmered in the evening air, transforming the dirt and grime of the city into a beautiful, sparkling gem.
After the waiter took their orders, Maria leaned toward Mark. “So, Mystery Man, tell me what you’ve been up to lately.”
He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “Well, to sum it up, I think I finally dealt with my past and with the death of my family. It’s something I can now put behind me, so I can move on with my life.”
Maria straightened. “Wow. With the state you were in the other night, I was wondering if you were going to take off and do something stupid. I’m glad you got away and thought things through.”
He looked down at the table. “You’re a great friend, Maria. More than a friend, really.” His face flushed and he rubbed at an invisible spot on the tablecloth. “I couldn’t have gotten through this last year without you.” He looked up. “So what do you think of the car?”
“It’s a little small for my liking, but if you like it, I guess—”
He laughed. “You’re a hard one to impress.”
“I’m not really into cars. All I need is something to get me where I want to go and back.” She folded her hands and rested her chin on her knuckles. ”You said you wanted to talk about something. Is this a good time?”
He tented his fingers together. Eyebrows arched, he asked, “Will you promise you won’t get mad?”
“Promise.”
He hesitated. Finally, he said, “Okay, I got a new job.”
Her heart fell, and she couldn’t help but sigh.
He held up his hand. “But, don’t worry. It’s a good thing. If we’re going to be seeing more of each other, then it’ll be better if we don’t work in the same office.”
“Well, if you put it like that.” Though she was still disappointed she wouldn’t see him every day at the office, she smiled. “Tell me about this job. If the car is any indication, it has good perks.”
The waiter appeared again, this time with water and drinks.
After a sip of wine, Maria said, “Well, mister? Are you going to tell me about the job? I’m dying of curiosity.”
He sighed and lowered his glass. “This is the hard part. Maria, I don’t want to lie to you. I want to be always open and honest with you.”
She nodded. “Same with me.”
“That poses a problem with my new job. I, uh, you see...” He looked around then took her hands. “Look… do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. Why?” She didn’t like the way he was hedging.
“I can’t tell you what I’ll be doing. But I promise you it isn’t anything evil. I’ll be doing just the opposite.”
“But—”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense, but this is who I am now, and what I will be in the future. I just want you to know up front what kind of relationship you’re getting into.”
She looked into his blue eyes and could tell he was telling her the truth, as much as possible. “You could’ve lied and made up some job that doesn’t exist. I appreciate you telling me the truth. I only ask one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Please be careful.”
“I promise.”
* * *
GEOFF SAT OUT IN the waiting area while Kirk talked with the stubby agent. He wasn’t surprised that he was taken out of the loop, being a reporter and all. He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened it up. He had a text message from his boss. He opened it and read it. Oh, great. His editor wanted something from him, soon, and he wasn’t even close to being ready with a story. He sent a cryptic message back and closed the phone.
He retrieved his laptop from his shoulder bag and logged on to the FBI website. He wanted to look up the director, get any information he could.
The director was Shaun M. Nichols. Next, he opened up a search on Captain Jacobson, trying to see what division he worked with.
Geoff stopped a man who looked like he might know what was going on and asked if he knew Jacobson.
“Captain?”
“Is he here somewhere?” Geoff asked.
“Yeah, his office is on the fifth floor. Just ask for him at the front desk.”
“Thanks.”
He put away his laptop and slid the bag’s strap over his head and onto his shoulder. At the elevator, he hit the up arrow. He should try to get an interview and do something useful while he had inside access to the FBI offices.
The fifth floor was open, with offices around the perimeter of the building and a center area filled with cubicles. The woman at the front counter asked him how she could help him.
He stood tall and tried to keep his voice firm, in spite of his nerves. “My name is Geoff Martin. I’m with World Magazine International. I’d like to speak with Captain Jacobson, if I could.”
“Do you have an appointment?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “No, I didn’t think so. Tell you what—you leave me your card, and I’ll have him call you, okay?”
Geoff could tell he wouldn’t get any further, so he took out a business card and handed it to her.
“Can you tell him it’s about his special task force?”
She nodded, put on her glasses, and went back to typing on her keyboard.
He took the elevator back down to the main floor and waited for Kirk to finish his meeting.
* * *
AFTER COVERING EVERY ASPECT of the operation they could think of, Kirk got up, shook Agent Goodwin’s hand, and started to leave.
“Oh, before you leave, what’s the story with your reporter friend?”
“He’s cool. He knows almost everything about the case involving the prison. I left out some parts about my kidnapping, since they’re a bit unbelievable.”
“Don’t let him in on too much. The last thing we need is for this to get out to the media.”
“No problem. He knows I’ll kill him if he tries to cross me.”
The agent laughed, then saw the look on Kirk’s face. “Okay, then, uh, you need anything, just ask.”
“One more question. What can you tell me about Captain Jacobson?”
“He’s the lead man on this task force and handles all the sensitive matters as far as the cover-ups go. He’s the one who started the operation ten years ago.”
“I’m just curious as to why Jacobson was given the file from Jenkins. Then after we talked to Jenkins, he ends up dead.”
“We’re looking into it, but I can assure you Jacobsen had nothing to do with the Jenkins’ death. The file was doctored to try to preserve the operation and keep a low profile.”
Kirk found Geoff in the waiting area typing away on his laptop, as usual.
“Hey, how’d it go?” Geoff asked.
“Good. I got new information that changes everything. First, I want to go out to the Jenkins place to see what’s up.”
The second agent who had brought them walked by just then. “I’m going out there now. You two can ride along if you like.”
Geoff squinted at him. “Really?” He turned to Kirk for an explanation.
But all Kirk said was, “Great, it’ll save us a cab.”
* * *
MARIA WAS WATCHING FROM her second story window as Mark drove away. He waved and smiled. She was a wonderful friend and person. He just hoped he could keep her in his life. At this point, he wasn’t sure of tomorrow, let alone what was going to happen next week or next year.
He made his way to the smoke shop he’d been told to visit and pulled up to the curb in front of the store. He looked around. This side of town was dingy, and if a guy didn’t keep his wits, he would be a prime target for a mugging or worse. All of a sudden his shiny new sports car felt like a trouble magnet.
As he opened the shop door, he heard a tiny bell bang against the glass. The place was dim, almost dark, and filled with choking smoke.
The solitary customer was looking at cigars. A grey-haired man stood behind an old-style till with a short, fat stogie hanging from of the side of his mouth.
“Can I help you?” he grunted, as if it he was a bit annoyed by Mark’s presence.
“I’m here to meet someone. Uh, I was told to be here at eleven.” He glanced at his watch and saw it was eleven, right on the nose.
“You Mark?”
“Yeah.”
“Take your car around the side, in the alley, and Mario will tell you where to go.” He puffed a thick cloud of smoke into Mark’s face before turning back to the television that sat behind the counter.
Mark drove behind the shop and down a dark alley. A short, heavy man wearing a beanie on his head, a scarf around his neck and an expensive trench coat stepped out from a dirty doorway and held up his hand.
Mark rolled down his window, and Mario leaned in. “I see you got yourself a new ride. Nice. All the newbies buy top of the line.” He laughed and held out his hand. “I’m Mario.”
“Yeah, thought I would see who I was dealing with, you know?”
“You’ll take it back before you know it. You’ve got no idea, pal. You ready?” He looked at Mark, a knowing smirk on his face.
Mark nodded and looked as confident as he could, even though he was terrified.
“Hold on to your hat—here we go.”
Mario pulled what looked like a cell phone from his coat pocket and hit a button. The ground shook, then opened into a huge, gaping hole with a ramp leading downward.
Mario pointed toward the hole. “Just find a spot and meet me at the office inside.”
Mark drove down the ramp, which led to what looked like a lighted parking garage.
He aimed for a door in the corner of the underground parking garage and parked next to a red Porsche 911. He looked a few rows down to see an Aston Martin sitting sideways, filling up two spaces. He shook his head. That’s how those sports car owners were—always worried about dents and scratches. Not that he was any different.
He followed Mario into the small, simple office. Several computers sat on a counter on one wall, but that was all, other than chairs. Mario took off his coat and led Mark through another door, which opened to a room that had a familiar look about it. This was definitely a WJA operation. Between the gadgets and gauges and the wall with a large glass case, it looked like something in a science fiction movie. Hanging in a row in the case were what looked like wet suits.
“You’ve been briefed,” said Mario. “I’ll go over the details. First thing is, you’ll find your weapons and equipment at the safe house. If you have any questions on how to use them or what to do, you can access the mainframe computer in any safe house. They’re all voice-activated. Watch this.”
Mario put his hand on a wall sensor. After it apparently scanned his fingerprints, a screen came down from the ceiling. Once it was in place, the screen flashed on, and a voice welcomed him, asking what it could do for him.
“I need information on suiting up for the Taxi,” Mario said with his Italian accent.
The droning electronic voice seemed to come from everywhere yet nowhere. “The suit is located inside the glass case and will mold to your exact dimensions and body density.” The computer went on to explain how to operate the Taxi and the importance of using it correctly. The female-sounding voice was calm and devoid of emotion.
“Cool,” Mark said. “So the Taxi is how I’m getting to Pakistan?”
“Bingo. The Taxi, as we call it, is a device that connects our safe houses by a series of sealed, underground tubes controlled from the main station you see in front of you.”
He pointed to a control panel mounted to the wall. “It has settings for the place you want to go and the time you want it to get you there. A list of cities and safe houses will come up, like so.” He punched in Pakistan, and five cities appeared on the screen. He highlighted Islamabad. With an audible click, the computer locked the location in place.
“It’s around ten in the morning in Pakistan, so you’ll need to get there as soon as you can. We’ll set it at top speed.”
“How fast is that?”
“Uh, you really don’t want to know, pal.” He chuckled and went on. “Next, you punch in your weight and height. I’d say you are just under six-feet tall and, what, a buck eighty-five?”
“One eighty. Why do they need all this information?”
Mario tried to explain without going into too much detail.
Mark grabbed a chair and sat down, striving to take in everything he’d just heard. “So, it’s like a bank with the tubes and the canisters. And I’m the sucker inside the canister.” A sucker in more ways than one…
“The suction picks the capsule up and sends it to the bank teller. It’s like that, but much bigger and far more involved, right? It’s an underground network based in just about every country, leading to multiple stations called safe houses.”
Mario nodded.
Mark shook his head. “You can’t be serious.” But, from the look on his new friend’s face, he could tell he wasn’t joking.
Mario hit a key on the keypad, and part of the wall opened up with a grinding sound, revealing a round, metal, pill-looking machine.
Mark got up to take a closer look. It had a small, glass window on the top. Apparently, he would lie on his back. The lid opened from the side, like a clam. The interior looked like was made of a soft gel. He noticed it had a five-point harness, probably to keep passengers from shifting as they shot through the bowels of the earth.
“So I put on this suit, and then I get inside this thing and strap in?”
“Yup. When you close the top, a nontoxic sleeping gas will fill the capsule and put you to sleep. Believe me—you don’t want to be awake for the ride.”
“I see. And when I arrive at my destination, the capsule will send in fresh oxygen to wake me up, right?”
“Yup. You’ll be fine. You might feel a little sick for an hour or so, but you’ll get used to it.” The little man giggled. “The first time is always the hardest.” His slick black hair bounced out of place and he pulled a black comb from his pants pocket to run through his shiny helmet.
“And the suit. What does it do again?”
“It stimulates your blood by pumping your muscular system to keep the fluids flowing evenly. You’ll be experiencing a whole lot of Gs.”
“So, without the suit?”
“Well, let’s just say… it’d be messy.”
“Ah.”
“When you arrive on the other side, you’ll be met by your spotter. He’ll get you lined up and ready to go. If you’ve got questions, he’ll answer them. Okay?”
Mark nodded, stripped down, and pulled on the suit. It was soft, except for the cables and lumps from the small pumps imbedded in the fabric. He zipped it up and pulled the hood-like piece over his head. Now he knew what Spiderman must have felt like. He could barely move as the fabric suctioned tight against his body.
“You ready?”
“No time like the present.”
Mario helped him into the small capsule and hooked him in, making sure the straps were tight. Before he closed the lid, Mario wished him luck with a thumbs-up. Mark looked out the little window as Mario pushed him into the round tube, which encased his little projectile body like Spandex.
He heard a beep just before the same mellow, female voice filled his confined space, counting down from ten. The wall went back into place and Mario disappeared from view. A final thump made it feel like he’d just entered his own casket.
“Nine.”
The sound of rushing air could be felt as the seal was sucked against the lid, making a snap as it locked into place.
“Eight.”
Mark’s heart raced as he imagined himself shooting beneath the surface of the earth and traveling under the ocean. Regret teased his mind. Part of him wanted to scream for Mario to let him out.
“Seven.”
Tiny pumps began to massage his body. Now it wasn’t so bad. He could use one of these at home. It felt like a Swedish massage, but as the pressure increased, the sensation was more like a python squeezing him to death.
“Six.”
The sound of rushing air grew louder; he could feel the force of it compressing as it hit the tiny vessel. The air at the foot was pulling, and the air at the top was pushing–yet the machine stood still.
“Five.”
He heard the hiss of gas. It smelled like vanilla and strawberries. Mmmm. The final numbers rang in his ears.
“Four...three…”