Back-Tracker
Back-Tracker
Bob Blink
Prologue
Twenty-two Months Earlier
Jake Waters thought the house looked forlorn and desolate. He’d seen it in a more positive light during the three months he and Karin had lived here together, but today the two-story residence located in a cul-de-sac in one of San Jose’s upscale neighborhoods looked downright depressing. It had to be because Karin was gone. Nothing else had changed. This would be the first time he’d spend a night in the house without her, and already he was lonesome. He’d just returned from dropping her off at the San Francisco airport a few miles up the peninsula.
Karin was headed back East for a week or perhaps a bit longer to help out her brother Dave’s wife. Annette was expecting, and the word had come that the baby would be early. Jake had initially planned to travel along with Karin, but the change in timing conflicted with his promise to be at Nate’s birthday party. His best friend had planned a big bash. Even Zack and Cheryl would be flying in from Idaho where they had moved last year. After some of the things Nate had done to help him, Jake couldn’t imagine disappointing him. As a result, Jake would be driving to Reno alone the next day, and then would take a flight in a couple of days to meet up with his wife in Philadelphia. At least they’d spent the previous night productively. Karin had always been a bit of a wildcat in bed, and last night she’d outdone herself. Jake yawned from lack of sleep, and decided that a nap might be in order. He had some shopping to do later, and he’d get an early start for Reno in the morning.
The BMW hummed quietly as Jake crossed the Bay Bridge the next day and then transitioned to the 80 freeway headed north. The sun was well over the hills and the pleasant April morning was fresh and invigorating. He’d slept better than he’d anticipated, probably because he was so tired from his exertions the night before. He smiled as he recalled how Karin had snuggled close after their third encounter.
Since today was Saturday the usual nasty traffic had been bearable, and now that he was leaving San Francisco behind Jake estimated it would be three and a half hours before he reached Reno. He’d call Nate as he passed through Truckee and alert him of his impending arrival. Unless something unexpected developed, he anticipated being in Reno no later than two in the afternoon. He turned on the radio with the intention of plugging in his phone so he could listen to music as he drove. The radio was normally tuned to one of the local news channels, which he liked because he could get frequent updates on the traffic. Today, however, he was shocked with the news alert that caught his attention before he was able to plug in the phone’s connector cable.
“To summarize,” the radio announcer said, “Senator Ted Kerns was killed this morning in his private suite at the San Francisco Ritz-Carlton Hotel. He was having breakfast with longtime friend and supporter, businessman Mark LoBue who was killed as well. As yet the police have no idea who was behind the bombing that blew up his suite, damaging nearby suites and injuring several individuals in adjacent rooms.”
Jake was shocked. He’d liked the senior Senator, despite the fact he was a liberal Democrat. Jake was an Independent, completely fed up with both parties to the point he almost had decided to skip the coming elections, staying away until more sense worked its way back into the system. Senator Kerns, however, was one of those men who wasn’t bound by the party affiliation he was known by. If something was a stupid idea, he was one of the first to say so. Loudly, and often. He had been particularly vocal of late about the terrorist problem and the silly political correctness that was aiding the enemies of the United States. He had been particularly focused on recent considerations suggesting the laws be tempered to allow Muslims to be judged by a combination of US law and their own Sharia law. He’d pointed out that the US law was binding on all, and that those who wished to extend a different set of rules to one group was misguided. His comments had not set well with some of the more radical factions of the Muslim community, and he’d received a number of death threats as a result. Jake wondered if the attack on the Senator might have come from that direction.
He hoped to hear more, but the announcer went on to other stories, promising to come back with more details as soon as they were known. Jake was also curious about the other senators he had read were in town for a series of meetings, mostly focused on planning for the November elections. Since nothing had been said, Jake assumed the attack was directed specifically at Senator Kerns, but he’d like to know for certain. Jake couldn’t recall if the other senators were staying at the same hotel, and whether the meetings were scheduled there as well. Frustrated with the lack of information, Jake decided to forgo the music, and jumped to CNN news in hopes of learning more.
“Did you hear about the bombing?” Nate asked right off as he greeted Jake in the driveway as his old friend climbed out of the car. Nate knew more about Jake and his back-track ability than anyone other than Karin.
Back-tracking was a unique ability that Jake possessed and which he had discovered by accident some years earlier. It had saved his life more than once and allowed him to influence the flow of events of those around him. It wasn’t exactly time travel, but in many ways was similar. For reasons he didn’t understand, he had the unique ability to send his thoughts back to an earlier version of himself. He could choose the time to send the thoughts to, and that earlier self would receive all of the memories that Jake had acquired by living through the days he skipped back over. He couldn’t send anything physical, just his memories.
The ability wasn’t without limitations. He could only reach back a week to ten days in a single jump. The jumps were usually associated with headaches, sometimes severe. The longer the transition, the more severe the headache. He’d learned much later that it was possible to piggy-back the jumps which allowed him to send his memories back farther than the ten-day limitation. There were complications with that and the headaches became increasingly severe as multiple jumps were linked together. Jake also could only make the jump back if the earlier version of himself was within a limited physical distance from his current location. That wasn’t an entirely fixed parameter, but usually meant he had to be within twenty-five miles of his former self or the back-tracking couldn’t be initiated.
Jake had confided his ability to his closest friends a couple of years back, and twice had involved Nate in adjusting a situation that required some special help. Nate had been key to resolving the attacks in San Francisco that had gotten Karin killed until the damage could be undone. As a result, Nate knew this could be the kind of situation that Jake might decide to get involved in.
“Caught it on the radio as I was passing through Vallejo,” Jake replied. “I spent most of the drive trying to learn the details, but mostly they repeated the same sensational story over and over. It doesn’t sound like anyone has any idea who was behind it. Also, nothing was said about how the perpetrators managed to get the bombs inside the Presidential Suite where the Senator was staying.”
“They didn’t use regular bombs,” Nate said. “Just a little while ago CNN had a report that claimed a pair of miniature drones were used to fly the explosives to the hotel and right into his room. I guess the first was detonated right outside the window of the suite’s private dining room, which probably was enough to have killed the Senator given the size of the blast, but less than a minute later the second one flew into the now open room and detonated inside. The damage to the hotel is apparently substantial. Two others have died as well.”
“None of that was on the radio,” Jake said. He considered the approach. It sounded like something a terrorist might have done. They were getting more sophisticated all the time, and they would like turning the tables on an American Senator, using aerial bombing to take out someone they had targeted for removal.
Jake couldn’t tell if he was eager or concerned. He might wish to help, or he might be afraid that Jake would have to leave and miss the party.
“I don’t know enough yet,” Jake admitted. “Probably, but my involvement will be simple, nothing that will require any action or change my schedule. I’ll just call Susan Carlson at the FBI and warn her of what will happen.”
“You haven’t done that yet, have you?”
Jake knew that Nate sometimes got confused how the back-tracking worked.
“No, of course not. I don’t know enough yet, but if I had, then the attack wouldn’t have taken place. At least the Senator wouldn’t have been killed.”
“Oh,” Nate said. “I thought maybe you could recall telling her, and they are pretending so they can see who reacts.”
“I don’t think they would have allowed the drones to damage an important place like the Ritz,” Jake pointed out.
“I suppose,” Nate admitted. “I wondered if maybe they were unable to stop them, even if they had relocated the people out of the area.”
During the next few days, Jake gathered what information he could. When he back-tracked and called Carlson, he wanted to have as much information as possible. Most of the time was spent with Nate, Zack and Cheryl, and Nate’s new girlfriend, an attractive oriental woman named Brenda Fong. While the others knew of Jake’s ability, Brenda didn’t, which limited what they could talk about in her presence.
Jake had almost forgotten what it was like to be around people he was so close to. It had only been three months since he’d seen Nate, but was sneaking up on a year since Zack and Cheryl had uprooted and moved to Idaho. The last fourteen months had seen a lot of changes for them. He and Karin had gotten married just over half a year ago, and the opportunity her real estate firm had offered her had resulted in their own move to San Jose. Nate was the only one of the old gang who still lived in Reno, and during their occasional phone conversations, Jake could tell his old friend missed the old days.
“Have you been back-tracking a lot?” Cheryl asked during one of those periods when Brenda wasn’t around.
“Hardly at all,” Jake admitted.
There was another thing that had changed. When he’d moved to California, he’d left a lot of his special gun collection with Nate. California took a dim view of many of the items he had, and Karin wasn’t entirely comfortable with some of his activities either. He’d finally made her realize that when one considered all the moral aspects of the problem, was it more moral to allow a number of innocents to be killed, or to end the life of the single bad guy? Fortunately, the situation had changed significantly when Susan Carlson, the FBI agent with whom he’d worked to save Atlanta had figured out who he was, and secretly came to him for help. After that he had a friend, and when things came up, he could usually simply call her and she’d see that the matter was dealt with. A few simple, and usually local matters, which he could deal with without violence, he’d handled on his own. Nate knew about Carlson, but he hadn’t seen the others in the months since she had surprised him with the telephone call. He told them about his new arrangement.
“You really have her personal number and can call her whenever you want?” Cheryl asked.
“That must make Karin happy,” Zack added. “She was always very uncomfortable with what you were doing.”
Jake nodded. When Karin had found out about his ability and how he used it, the knowledge had almost ended their relationship.
“I’ve sent a number of warnings to her in the last six months,” he explained. “All of them were dealt with. I’m not sure how she explains them to her superiors, but that’s not my problem. We use a phony identity whenever we talk, although she figured out who I am some time ago. Only twice have I needed to help her out personally, and both times I was able to do so without revealing to anyone besides her who I am or what I could do.”
“So what do you do while Karin is busy running the local office?” Cheryl asked. “I sure wish she’d been able to come with you?”
“I’ve got a special game coming out in a couple of months,” Jake replied. It was going to be his masterpiece. He almost wished he had brought along some of the code so he could demonstrate it to his friends. “Oh, and Karin wanted me to ensure everyone was still planning on the week in Yosemite this June. We can all catch up then.”
Four days later, Jake was back in San Jose. From what he had heard on the radio during his drive back, little progress had been made in finding who was behind the killing and where the drones had been launched from beyond the fact they appeared to have come from a boat out in the harbor. Surprisingly, no one had come forth to take credit, something that many expected to see given the predominant theory was that one of the Mid East terrorists groups was at fault. Various reports had made a number of suggestions, but none had anything solid to support the theory that suggested them. All investigators agreed that the Senator was the target, and that Mark LoBue, who almost certainly was an unfortunate bystander, had been meeting with the Senator who was looking for financial support for the election coming later in the year.
Jake walked into his empty house. There was no point in unloading the car. When he back-tracked this reality would cease to exist, and the earlier version of himself would progress forward until this date and time. Nothing he did now would remain. He had come to dislike the reliving of his life, knowing what was to happen for the next several days and trying not to reveal what he knew, nor to do anything that might change the progression of things other than the one incident that had brought him back. When he was busy trying to resolve a problem, at least he was busy. This time he would be a bystander. He would contact Susan at the FBI, tell her what was going to happen, and she would handle it from there. At least he would get to spend time with his friends, even if it was a rerun of what he’d just completed. They would probably guess what he was doing. They knew about his ability and would catch him up in something that would reveal he’d passed through the days once already.
Before making his move, he went into the computer room and spent an hour looking up everything he could find on the incident, as well as the Ritz-Carlton hotel. He looked at a lot of pictures and videos, and he knew exactly what path the drones had taken as they approached the hotel. He even had found blueprints and knew how to access most areas of the hotel. Old habits died hard, and even though he wouldn’t be taking any action, he felt compelled to understand the layout.
It didn’t take long to convince himself he knew as much as he was going to. Short of waiting another week or two, little more information was likely to come available. He toyed with the idea of calling Carlson to see if she had anything he should take back, but then decided against it. If she had, she probably would have called him by now. He wanted this behind him so he could go and meet his wife. If he went to her now, he was certain he would no sooner get there than he’d be summoned to Washington.
He hesitated somewhat when he considered what date he wanted to back-track to. Finally he decided he’d go back to the morning he’d dropped Karin at the airport. That would give the FBI a full day to make preparations. It would only take a warning to ensure the Senator wasn’t even in the hotel the morning of the attack. They might even be able to locate the source of the drones knowing what he could tell them.
Jake didn’t want to go back any farther than that morning. To do so would mean going back before the wonderful night of passion he’d shared with Karin before she left. He knew it wouldn’t be repeated if he did so. By now his wife was adept at detecting when he’d lived through a time before, and that would spoil the mood for her, and as a consequence, for him. She hated it when he knew exactly what was going to happen. Especially if it involved their sex life. He’d hold that in reserve, and only surrender that time under the most unusual circumstances. Satisfied with his choice, Jake sat in his chair and closed his eyes.
The memories struck
hard as Jake stepped out of his car after returning home from dropping Karin at the airport. He was still tired from the night before and was halfway toward the door when he staggered with the knowledge that blossomed in his brain and he realized what was going to happen the next day. Just a moment before he was feeling lonely, and now this! As always, with the knowledge came the headaches, although they were less severe these days than they had been in the early days. Still, they were not fun, and he headed inside the house toward the medicine cabinet.
After taking several aspirin, he headed toward his study. He would have to call Susan immediately. He open the lower right drawer of his desk and withdrew one of the cheap cellular phones he had acquired, slipping the charged battery into the one he selected. There was nothing illegal in his call, but using one of the throwaway phones was one thing they did to help keep his identity secret. If Carlson called him, she would do the same.
Jake had Carlson’s personal cellular number memorized, and he punched it in and triggered the call. He had activated the phone some time ago and used the name Trask, which would show in her caller ID. Mathews was the name he’d used when he first contacted her, but that was a name they never used anymore. Stan Mathews was the alias Jake had used to commit what amounted to crimes, and who was still being sought. While Carlson knew who Mathews was, she had accepted what he had done and the reasons for it.
Carlson would recognize the Trask name and realize it was Jake calling. That alone would alert her that the call was urgent. He heard the ring repeat five times, then six. There was no response. Finally her phone switched him over to allow the option of leaving a message. He hung up. There was no need to do so. His name would tell her enough. She must be somewhere or involved in a meeting where she wasn’t free to respond. That seldom happened, but he knew it was possible. He’d wait for her to call him back.