Infiltrator Read online

  "The others wanted to watch over you. We all feared that even if Fred wasn't setting you up, there was too much chance this could go wrong."

  "Seems you were right," Mark agreed. "But what do we do with him?"

  "Take him back to the cabin," Jessie said. "I want to know what the FBI knows or believes and if we can learn any more. We were going to have to leave there anyway. I hope you learned something useful from Fred? I wasn't able to listen in."

  "Not as much as I hoped, and be careful with this drive. I have a feeling what Fred converted could be risky for all of us who attended those meetings."

  When they reached the stolen car, Mark and Jessie both climbed in front after the prisoner was in place in the back seat, with Jessie keeping a watch on their prisoner.

  "Where's your car?" Mark asked.

  "Glen and Steph are on their way back with it. They brought me here," Jessie explained.

  Chapter 21

  Wednesday Night

  "It keeps getting better," Glen complained when they returned with Burrows as a captive. "I thought the worst I'd hear was that Mark had been captured. I never considered this possibility."

  Agent Burrows had made the same point frequently as they'd made the drive into the mountains. Jessie had simply told him they needed a meeting, and he was law enforcement's representative. Once out of town they'd found a quiet spot, stripped the agent of all his equipment. His phone they didn't even attempt to disable. She knew her organization played games with the phones, making them excellent tracking devices even when the batteries had been removed. Since Agent Burrows had an iPhone, even that wasn't possible.

  "You see where I hid it," Jessie asked the captured lawman. "It'll be safe there once you come back for it."

  The claim he would be able to retrieve the phone would hopefully serve the additional purpose of planting the idea they didn't intend him harm, thus making him a more cooperative prisoner. Claim or not, Burrows had been a cooperative prisoner, other than talking too much, during the entire ride. Of course Jessie holding her .40 Glock in the front seat the entire time probably influenced that situation significantly.

  "He got by all of us," Jessie admitted, "and arrested Mark. I think he was already in the place before even this Fred character arrived. I know he didn't come in after I followed Mark to the place. But after freeing Mark, what was I to do with him? Shoot him? Turn him loose so every cop in this part of the state would soon be after us? We spent much of the day yesterday, and part of this morning discussing how to proceed. We need information, and to see how the other side sees this situation."

  "I'm afraid I won't be able to reveal that status of the case to you," Burrows said.

  "Tough guy, huh?" Steph asked.

  Jessie waived a hand. "Perhaps not, but we have a bit of a tale to tell you. Perhaps after hearing it, you can provide your take on it, and maybe some advice. We haven't been doing too well since this thing started."

  "More of the story that Mark told Fred?" Burrows asked.

  "Much more detail," Mark agreed. "Call it a tale of eight strangers."

  They led the manacled agent into the small living area and settled him into one of the few chairs. The others gathered around, sitting wherever they could, including on the top of the blanket chests. Mark started the story while Steph headed off to make some more of the not-so-special stew.

  They took it slow, allowing Burrows to ask questions when he wished. Each had something to contribute, a detail here and there to flush out the main event line. Finally they finished.

  "So tell us it's a ridiculous story and we're never going to get anyone to believe us," Glen said once they'd finished and Burrows was silently considering all he'd been told.

  Burrows looked around the small room at his captors. "You're right, I doubt anyone is going to believe you," Burrows said with a partial smile.

  "I told you," Glen hissed at the response.

  Burrows held up his handcuffed hands to indicate he had more to say.

  "There's a lot you have said that simply is difficult to accept. However, I'm not your average listener. I've been caught unawares by events during this case that temper my thinking about what you have said."

  "What kind of events?" Steph asked.

  "Let's start with the most difficult to accept, the vanishings," Burrows said. "We arrested Monica Parker the morning Mr. Wilson here shot her. She was one on a list that Pam Chou had casually passed onto the secretary of Senator Conroy. On the way to headquarters she told an interesting story, and once in the cell, one would have though her secure. Those cells were designed to hold the most elusive of captives, and in all the time the facility has been used, no one has managed to escape. Yet, within hours of being placed there, Miss Parker simply vanished from her cell. I was on the way to check on her because of a video camera failure in the holding cell area, and was partway down the corridor when a brilliant flash of light erupted from her cell. I thought it might be an explosion, but there was no blast, no fire, and absolutely no damage. In fact, there was nothing to explain the source of the light. Miss Parker, of course, had vanished.

  "So you've witnessed a vanishing also?" Steph asked.

  "Not as directly as the rest of you," Burrow replied. "Sort of second hand. But something unexplainable had happened. Then, a few hours later she reappears, reportedly brandishing a strange weapon that fired a bolt of light."

  "So that was reported!" Mark asked excitedly.

  "Only by one witness. He claimed that the device was directed toward a fifth member of your group, who vanished in the strange swirling ball that surrounded him. As you explained, that must have been Jerry Marshal, and from your telling, the reason you felt the need to fire upon your former comrade."

  "Did you recover the weapon?" Jessie asked hopefully.

  "Unfortunately no, and none of the other witnesses interviewed saw that part of the exchange. Most were alerted when you fired your weapons. The device itself has not been found, and only the one small partial video clip supports it existed at all."

  "Damn it!" Mark cursed.

  "And Jerry hasn't reappeared?" Glen asked.

  When the others looked at him he shrugged and said, "Johnson showed up at work after being shot and burnt to nothing. Monica vanished from the jail and reappeared with the weapon that removed Jerry. That suggests he might return again as well."

  "The reappearances are an interesting thing," Burrows said. "Why do you think she was after you? She'd been one of your group up to then?"

  "Whoever is behind this appears to want us eliminated," Glen said. "They got Pam, and then Jerry. Mark got Monica, who looks to have been tasked with getting the rest of us."

  "Hmmmm," Burrows said. "Can we discuss Mr. Johnson, who was first. Miss Carter and I both interviewed him in New York. A very interesting meeting. "You all claim to have seen him killed by the street hoods, and then vanish in strange fire. Miss Carter then discovered him alive and well in New York, but with an interesting set of memories. Unlike the rest of you, he supposedly claimed to recall the meetings, even an interaction with Miss Carter, but insisted he took his usual flight home and didn't see any of you after the meeting. Isn't that what you said usually happened?"

  Jessie nodded. "So?"

  "When I spoke with him, he claimed that he hadn't gone to Washington on the date this happened, and in fact had never attended such meetings. He had no idea what I was talking about. He was quite open, and everything I know about interviewing a suspect says he was being truthful. Yet, somehow, I knew it wasn't the case. Mr. Johnson's memories appear to be quite flexible, and appear to be wholly believed by him. I wonder why he reappeared, and why those behind this didn't simply let him vanish?"

  "I don't think they knew what had happened, and were simply filling the gap that had been created when he was killed," Stephanie said without thinking.

  "And they were able to come up with an identical replacement with all the appropriate memories essentially overnight?"

/>   "As you said," there are parts of the story people simply aren't going to accept," Mark replied.

  "There are other interesting anomalies," Burrows said. "All of you claim to have visited this facility and seen one another before. You have no consistent reason for why you went there, and none of you can recall what happened there. Your memories are faulty, just as Mr. Johnson's are. It took some time to figure out who all of you were, but a trace on your cell phone activity is very interesting. Of course, after the incidents with Bud Johnson, you all disabled your phones, but even before there are very strange gaps in the cell coverage. All of your phones show no tracking data during the day you were supposedly at these meetings, in a facility that has been closed for some time. There is nothing to suggest you have been there. Looking back at the last 18 months, as long as I could recover data on you, there are a couple of other dates when this happened. That supports your story of having these unexplained meetings every six months or so. Each occurrence, all of your phones were affected. The next day they operated normally, and I'm certain you had no idea it happened."

  "Who could do that?" Steph asked.

  "I'm certain Miss Carter's organization could purge the data if they wished," Burrows said. "But in light of what we have been discussing, I wonder if the data wasn't purged, but simply turned off somehow."

  "Who could get to our phones?" Glen asked.

  Burrows glanced at Mark.

  "Mr. Wilson's friend tonight had made an interesting discovery. If what he claims is true, your phones all have been somehow altered, with internal code and commands that might do just that. Some very qualified experts would need to have access to your phones to try to determine whether my suspicions are correct."

  "That's easy enough," Mark said.

  Burrows nodded. "It is one place where you have physical evidence of something unusual taking place. I'd like someone to have a look at those audio files as well. You all claimed to have been affected by a strange language that you understood but couldn't identify when the dying Johnson spoke to you. Those files might be other commands that control your actions without your being aware of it. Wilson here is right to urge caution on your listening to those files."

  "Why would we be the only ones influenced by those words?" Steph asked. "Maybe it would affect everyone?"

  "Unlikely," Mark said without thinking, but somehow he knew each of them had somehow been programmed to be manipulated by what was in their devices.

  "Sounds like with what you have discovered, there is a least a partial case to help exonerate us," Jessie said.

  "A start, but there are lots of questions, with the most difficult to address is who has the technology to do some of these things? And why? What is the purpose that you eight strangers are brought together?"

  "Both questions we have been asking ourselves since this all started," Steph said.

  "Perhaps Mr. Wilson's friend Fred has the answer," Burrows suggested.

  "Aliens?" Mark asked. "You can't tell me you believe that."

  "The man was right when he said it is the easiest explanation, except for why they would be bothering to use you. I'm not a strong supporter of little green men conspiracies, but one thing I believe is certain, however. Whoever is behind this has decided it is best that you be removed. I would suggest you have been marked for extermination."

  Mark looked at the others.

  "The facts do suggest as much," he agreed. "But what can we do. We have no idea who is behind this and who to approach to end it."

  "I believe your only recourse is to get some official help. You need support, and staying out on your own as fugitives simply ensures you will eventually be taken down."

  "I wonder if there are more like us?" Stephanie asked softly.

  Chapter 22

  Thursday Morning

  Technically, Agent Burrows remained their hostage that night. He wasn't free to leave had he wanted, and they maintained control of all the weapons. He slept in the common room with Mark and Glen, but in reality it didn't matter much. While a formal vote and decision was planned for Thursday morning, giving each of the four fugitives the chance to consider their own future, it seemed pretty clear when they'd retired that they would be turning themselves in to the agent come morning. Whether the agent was a particularly clever talker, or whether he really represented their only hope for escape from the entanglement in which they found themselves, Mark wasn't certain. But he'd already decided he'd had enough, and would be going back to D.C. when they took him home in the morning. If any of the others felt otherwise, they'd disappear in the Jeep, a vehicle the agent hadn't seen, before Mark and whoever voted with him headed in to town to meet their fate in the stolen vehicle. Jessie had already offered the remaining cash she and Mark carried from the cache to any who chose to flee.

  As it turned out, all were of similar mind, and the vote was unanimous. It was clear that they all saw no future unless this matter could be resolved, and clearly they weren't closing on it by themselves. The guns were turned over to Burrows, other than the shotguns, which were unloaded and secured once again in the safe where they had found them. Jessie left a thousand dollars in the pantry along with a note critical of the stew, suggesting restocking with something a bit more palatable. It was early, and still quite cold when they set off just after seven in the morning. The snow was receding, but hadn't disappeared, and weather reports were raising the possibility of another storm moving in during the next couple of days. Jessie and Steph led the way in the Jeep, with the three men following in the borrowed Toyota.

  "There's the spot," Jessie said pointing, to direct Steph toward the location they'd hidden the agent's phone the day before. It had been exposed to multiple hours of sub zero temperatures, so she wasn't certain if it would still function properly, but Steph claimed it would, and once they passed it to the agent he nodded that it was still functional, if a bit low on charge.

  "Let's stop somewhere and get breakfast, and I'll call Duke and explain the situation. My partner can contact the office and make people aware you are coming in of your own choice, then meet us and help escort you in, and help avoid any unpleasantness or misunderstandings. These situations can be tense at times."

  The call to Burrows' partner required multiple rings for an answer. They were sitting in a small diner, the only customers in the place at the moment.

  "It's not like him," Burrows explained to the group as he listened to the rings. He had the phone on speaker so they could listen to the exchange. "He usually answers right off."

  Finally, just as Burrows expected to get the voicemail message, the phone was answered.

  "Duke, it's . . ."

  "Tom," said a voice finishing for him. It took him several moments for him to place the unexpected voice.

  "Sully, where's Duke?"

  Without answering Burrow's question, Sully asked, "Where have you been Tom? We've been trying to reach you for almost four hours."

  "Sorry, phone problem," Burrows lied. He wasn't sure why he didn't just explain his situation, but something was clearly up and until he knew just what, he was hesitant to reveal who he was with.

  "Are you coming in to work now?" Sully asked.

  "Yeah, I'm on my way in. I've been out of town, so it'll take about an hour. Why?"

  "Come to Duke's place, okay?" Sully directed.

  "Sure, no problem. But let me speak with Duke. I've got something to I'd like to discuss with him."

  "I can't do that," Sully said.

  "Damn it, Sully! What's going on?"

  "Duke's dead, Tom. Shot three times in the face at close range. Just a couple of hours ago. Someone used a .22 on him. Forensics says it's a Colt Woodsman. Like the one you have."

  "You know that already?"

  "One of the bullets was trapped under the skin close to the surface. We asked for a rush analysis. That's what came back just a few minutes ago."

  "And you are suggesting I shot him?"

  "Did you? Some people have sai
d you two haven't been exactly working the case you are on together. I know there has been occasional friction between you in the past. From the scene here, Duke clearly knew who it was who shot him."

  "That's bullshit, Sully! We were trying to cover extra ground by splitting the duty."

  "Well, be prepared to answer a few questions when you get here. Duke was a bit of a rough character, but was well liked. If you don't show, you know you'll have a lot of eyes looking for you."

  "I'll be there in just under an hour," Burrows shot back.

  "Oh, was Duke working anything besides this Chou case?"

  "No, that's been our sole focus the past few days."

  "Okay. We'll see you soon," and Sully hung up.

  "Someone shot your partner and they think you did it?" Jessie said. "Well, you've got four alibis. You were with us the entire night."

  Burrows shook his head. "I appreciate that, but I can't see it being necessary. Sully is just being an ass. He's like that. But it is interesting that someone might have made an attempt to make it look like I could have done it. The timing, however, suggests it is related to your situation. I can't say how, but I think the situation has suddenly become more complicated. I don't think you should come in with me until I have this under control. It will be difficult to deal with Duke's murder and your situation simultaneously, and no one else is going to have the same perspective as I do about your involvement."

  "Monica disappeared on your watch," Mark said. "Do you think someone is trying to make it look like you are involved with us in some way?"

  "I hadn't thought about that," Burrows admitted. "Be difficult to do."

  He passed back the collection of personal weapons he'd been given back at the cabin.

  "I'll take the Toyota and head in. You four better find someplace else to hide for a time. How can we stay in contact?"

  "Our phones will potentially change if we suspect they have been compromised, and will generally be powered off if we are together," Jessie said. She wrote down a website on a napkin. "This site will be a point of contact. Its initial function has been overcome by events, but we can pass messages there."