Pop Travel Page 12
As he scanned the street for a good drop spot, he felt a million eyes on him. Like everyone knew his intentions. He even sensed the cameras tuning in on him, but that wasn’t just his guilty paranoia. Sweat dripped from his temples and above his lip. He had to get rid of the thing somewhere out of view of the scrutinizing onlookers, in person and above.
When he glimpsed the golden arches, he made his choice. He crossed the street and slipped into the busy McDonald’s, shoving his package into a compactor receptacle near the entrance. The perfect opportunity, with plenty of consumers walking in and out to cover him, and he completed the performance by picking up a bottle of water. As he exited, he breathed a sigh of relief and went to the park.
The run loosened Cooper up. The fresh air and full trees, with the high-rises in the background, reminded him of when he had first moved to Atlanta. Starting his new job with high hopes. There had been so many possibilities and no responsibilities. That was a long time ago and so far away. He never knew how good he had it back then.
After his energizing run, he was ready for breakfast. When he reached the elevator, he pressed his floor number and felt a prick on his neck. As the doors closed, he saw a flash of almond eyes and fell to the floor, out cold.
11:30 a.m., Friday, July 26
Cooper woke up on his bed. His fingers felt the spot on his neck where he’d been pricked, as he remembered what happened. Looking around his room, his things were not quite as he left them. Seeing his QV on the nightstand, he reached into his pocket for the loose stick drive. It was gone. Well, maybe they won’t bother me anymore, now that they have what they were looking for. And I’m still alive, so they must think I’m not worth killing.
Double-checking his jacket over the webcam, he inspected his QV. The stick drive remained in its hidden link. Cooper smiled. Gotcha.
Waiting for room service to bring his breakfast order, he considered the coincidence of meeting Geri and their discussion at the library café. After dealing with a hit man and being knocked out, doubts about her innocence crept into his thoughts. Why would a beautiful woman like her take such an interest in him? A firm disbeliever in chance, he opened a frame to search for info on her.
“People search Geri Harper, Atlanta, Georgia, college student, age: early thirties,” Cooper said. The frame brought up several photos to choose from. He selected her pretty face and an array of articles popped up.
“Geraldine Louise Harper,” he said out loud. First, he chose an interview of Geri’s father, Dr. Joseph Lee Harper, a philanthropist and retired pediatrician who worked with inner city children and served as a board member of the Historical Preservation Society of Georgia. Apparently, the only family he had left was his Southern Belle daughter whose mother, Celia, died when Geri was young. Cooper felt a pang for her. He understood loss.
Cooper opened another article, about Geri. She briefly attended Emory University and participated in a couple of protests against the Econ Car Revolution. Interesting. A real rebel. Dawson wouldn’t like that.
The article described Geri as a modern-day debutante, whatever that was. She belonged to a long list of women’s groups and children’s organizations, softhearted like her father. He finished reading and smiled. Impressive resume. So maybe she wasn’t out to get him. Maybe meeting her was a sign he should start dating again. Either way, Geri Harper would be hard to forget. He hoped he would have the nerve to look her up when he resolved this mess. If he was still around.
Cooper logged off the Qnet and turned on the news feed. He moved on to his next order of business, to plan out his strategy for the party. He retrieved the page he had gotten at the library from under the ice bucket, and unfolded it. Apparently, paper wasn’t part of the search and seizure mission.
His head jerked at the light knock on his door. When he realized it was probably the breakfast he pre-ordered, he dropped the paper on the dresser and nodded. He was starving!
“Who is it?”
“Room service.”
Cooper opened the peephole on the imager. An older gentleman stood holding a tray of food high up on his shoulder. Preparing himself for a surprise attack from the unassuming man, Cooper opened the door.
The waiter took his tray to the table and set it down. Surveying the spread of covered dishes, Cooper inhaled the savory scents. Less suspicious, since he and his room had just been searched, he confirmed the tip with his thumbprint and led the waiter out.
“Sir, Blake is reporting,” Nate said.
“Good. Let’s see what he has.”
Nate opened the vid phone connection.
“Hey, chief.” Blake pulled off his false nose, camera glasses, and messy gray hair.
Nate loved Blake’s disguises.
“Blake. Good to see you. What did you find?”
“After knocking him out and scanning the place for stick drives, I found one in his pocket. There were no pertinent downloads on his QV and no sign of any other drives. When I returned with room service to check his status and do another quick sweep, I saw a piece of paper that wasn’t there before. It looked like a hand-drawn map. I sent you video recorded from my glasses. I didn’t get a great shot of the paper, as it was partially folded.”
“Interesting. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Okay, then. Check out. Your next assignment is on its way,” Ed said.
“Roger.” Blake nodded and disconnected.
Nate pulled up the picture. The folds in the paper distorted the image, making it hard to decipher.
“Do you think the map is of Beasley Hills?” Nate asked. “Should I search for it online?”
“I don’t doubt it is Beasley Hills. You can search it, but I’m sure it’s nothing. Cooper has no bait now. And even if he continues, that compound is overprotected. There’s no way Cooper will get anywhere without their Security handling him. I’ve seen it for myself. It’s impenetrable.”
Nothing is impenetrable. Nate shook his head. He should know. He used to be a professional decoder and hacker. He had broken into several impenetrable bank holdings before being forced to work for the FBI and spy on people.
“Is Geri all set for the party?” Ed asked.
“She will be outfitted here at 1300 hours, sir,” Nate said.
“Good. Fine. And they did a nice job on her bio, didn’t they? Let me know if Cooper changes his course. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.” When Ed left, Nate took a closer look at the picture of the map. How tasty would it be for Cooper to have found something Ed missed!
Cooper studied the map while he ate. The book claimed the ancient artifact to be a two-hundred-year-old drawing by a slave of the Beasley Hills plantation. It sketched the main house, the detached kitchen, the slave quarters, the infirmary, the stables, and the kennels. The focus of the map was a jagged, dark line from the outer kitchen to the stables on the remote southeast border of the plantation grounds. According to the book, the line represented a tunnel used to smuggle slaves out to the stables, then they could cross the river just past the property line and connect with the Underground Railroad.
This was the only map Cooper had seen in all his searching. He blamed PTI for that. They probably had erased all information about the plantation for security reasons. Cooper wanted to know the ins and outs of the place. He wished he had a more recent layout of the grounds. Searching Spy Sat and any other satellite world-viewing programs had been a waste of time, with so many restricted zones.
Geri said PTI had worked with the historical society to preserve the original layout. Assuming they had included a kitchen in the main house, among the refurbishments, he wondered if it reached over to the old outer kitchen where the tunnel started. That would be quite a stretch.
He considered his plan. To get any real answers from the Creator, he would have to corner the guy without any PTI people or security guards around. Once he arrived and surveyed the grounds, he would be able to assess the situation and figure out exactly what he could do.
FBI – Atlanta Division
1:00 p.m., Friday, July 26
eri strutted into headquarters wearing a silky, amethyst, haltered evening gown that flowed to the floor, with a high side slit, and sparkly, purple pumps. Fulfilling her duty to look smokin’ hot, the whistles and comments, like “Where you gonna hide your gun?” told her, mission accomplished. Her Muskel classes were paying off. She played along, giving them an exaggerated catwalk swagger, pleased with her new outfit. The perfect disguise, alluring yet comfortably functional. One of the perks of the job she loved.
When she reached the techie lab, her favorite geek met her, Claire Frosnick, a pale young woman with white-blonde, spikey hair and a wide mouth. Her lab coat hung open to reveal a colorful Jabadou cartoon character with oversized head and feet, the latest Japanese online game craze. A stylus stuck out from behind her ear, and she clutched her plate as if it were an extension of her hand. A genius at her craft, Claire cleverly forced bulky weapon power into the tiniest, most unassuming objects.
“Welcome, Geri. That is a beautiful gown.” She had less emotion in her voice than an android receptionist. Always all business, Claire acted as if Geri had met the standard uniform requirement. “Follow me.”
She turned on her tennis-shoed heel and led Geri into the lab.
“How are you, Claire?” Geri asked. At five-foot-eight plus her heels, she could see straight over Claire’s head. She loved working with Claire. They had cracked several codes together. Such a sweet nerd.
“When’s the last time you reached the surface?” Geri teased.
“You must be referring to my complexion. I use SPF 90. Very sensitive skin, you know,” Claire answered. Nothing ruffled her, except a stubborn hard drive. “Let me show you what you will be accessorizing with this evening.” She gave a little snorty laugh.
Geri laughed with her, but more because Claire had attempted some humor.
“Sounds good.”
They stopped at a table filled with an array of shiny jewelry. In her head, Geri jumped up and down, giving little claps, rejoicing she would finally be able to don some of the cool gadgets Claire always talked about. Geri could not conceal her wide grin and eager eyes.
Claire didn’t notice. Picking up a flower-shaped, diamond brooch, she reached to pin it on Geri’s dress and had trouble finding a proper spot. She gave up and handed it to her.
“Here. Attach this somewhere.”
Geri easily pinned it at a gather between her breasts.
“That is a camera; try not to block it. Now watch the imager over there.”
She pointed and turned on the camera with a remote. They saw a picture of Claire’s ear.
“Let me adjust the zoom.” She fooled with the settings. “There, that’s better.”
It zoomed out to show Claire’s profile.
Geri panned around the lab. Nifty.
Claire shut it off and directed Geri’s attention back to the table.
“Okay. Here are your matching earrings and necklace, i.e., earpiece and microphone.” She held them up respectively.
“What if things get rough and I lose something? Is there a backup system?” Geri asked as she put on her spy bling.
“Of course.” Claire looked over her glasses with a hand on her hip. “If you had some patience, I was getting to that.”
She gave a heavy sigh and picked up a syringe gun.
Geri’s eyes bugged.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Stick you, of course. It has a very sophisticated tracking device. Worldwide.” Claire spoke to Geri like a mother who’d lost patience repeating herself. “Now hike up that skirt and bend over.”
“Seriously?”
Claire tilted her head. What a dumb question. Geri assumed the position, leaning over the table, and Claire stuck her high on her hip. Ouch!
“Just a little pinch.” Claire set the syringe gun back on the table.
Geri rubbed her butt. Shouldn’t you have said that before you stuck me?
“What about weapons?” Geri asked. Now she would take pleasure pushing Claire’s buttons.
“Cool your semiconductors, young lady,” Claire said and held up her palm.
“Sorry.” Geri grinned.
Spreading her arm across the table like an impatient car model, Claire showed Geri the remaining items. A fat cubic zirconium ring, a silver bangle bracelet and a glittery, jeweled comb.
“The ring is a miniature grenade. You set it as soon as you put it on. When you take it off, you have five seconds to get clear before it blows up.”
“Oh, I like that.” Geri reached for it.
Claire swatted her hand.
“Please wait until I finish. You need to pay attention, Geri.”
“Sorry.” Geri gave her a smirky pout.
“Really. There are only two more things.” Claire picked up the bracelet and demonstrated as she spoke. “Push this indentation and it springs into a disk of thin, sharp blades. Like this.” Fwing! It popped open. Geri nodded, impressed. Claire showed her how to reset it, then replaced it on the table.
“If you twist this green jewel on the comb, the points will extend and a paralyzing liquid will flow out the tips when you jab your enemy with it.” She picked it up and showed her, then returned it to normal and handed it to Geri.
“That won’t poke me while I’m wearing it, right?” she asked, cautiously turning it over in her hand.
“Of course not. You’ll be perfectly safe,” Claire said, but her eyes glared, “How dare you ask such a question!”
“Great!” Geri smiled at her.
Claire let Geri take the gadgets to affix them.
“Got a mirror?” Geri asked.
Claire pointed at a nearby wall. When Geri finished her adjustments and inspected her appearance, she smiled, satisfied, feeling invincible.
“Thanks, Claire. Wish me luck.” She waved as she started to walk out.
“Uh, Geri.”
“Hmm?” She paused and looked back.
“Please don’t use them unless absolutely necessary. Save them for emergencies only,” Claire said and pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“Of course. Don’t worry about a thing, sugah,” she answered with her accent. With a wink over her shoulder at Claire, Geri strolled out of the lab.
Ritz-Carlton Hotel, Atlanta
2:15 p.m., Friday, July 26
As Cooper stepped into the lobby, his charcoal gray suit expressed the façade of a suave and confident man, but inside, his stomach cringed with nervousness. While getting ready, he had struggled to keep his mind off the impending pop. Now it consumed his every step.
The Peachtree Street transport station loomed closer, like an underworld laboratory where victims were experimented upon at their own peril. Cooper’s heart raced under his jacket. Concentrating on keeping his breathing under control, he took one stair at a time and passed through the automatic doors. The last thing he needed was to rouse suspicion by acting like a panicky first-timer. Though his face remained stoic, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. As he approached Security, he repeated over and over to himself, You can do this. You can do this.
Giving a nod to the guards, Cooper eased through the scanners and breezed past the dogs. After a quick scan of his surroundings, he wandered toward the check-in counters and chose the longest line to wait in, putting as much distance between him and the inevitable as he could.
The travelport lobby felt like another classy hotel with fine art, groups of plush
couches and chairs, and a fountain partition gurgling in the middle. A giant imager monopolized a whole wall, with patrons choosing their own frames to open and watch. All these comforts were a great distraction, putting travelers at ease before they risked their lives being zapped. Too bad it didn’t work for Cooper. He still couldn’t believe he was going through with it.
When he reached the counter, the travelport agent scanned his thumbprint, bringing up his photo and ticket information. He barely listened to the scarily pretty android as it rattled through the pre-travel procedures and noted his departure gate, B15. Why do they have to be so damn polite?
Cooper tuned back in at the mention of the pre-medical exam. He had forgotten about that and now had something else to worry about. How had this concept caught on so easily? No one likes going to the doctor.
Catching him in another worried daze, the unflappable robot repeated her last statement.
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Please avail yourself of our amenities and relax in the waiting area until your gate is announced.”
Cooper blinked, then sneered at her.
She flashed her dimwitted courtesy smile. The heartless creature had no clue as to what fate had in store for some unlucky travelers. He scooted off, afraid she might say it again, like an auto-flushing toilet, shooing someone away to make room for the next customer.
At least he didn’t have a long wait to dwell on his foreboding journey into the unknown. Scenes from the video flashed into his mind, making him reel and want to run. A soft ding chimed, helping him steady his equilibrium for a moment as elevator doors opened, letting out some travelers who must have just arrived. Lucky them. They made it through alive.
Resigning himself to a seat, Cooper surveyed the other waiting travelers. They looked so relaxed, casually chatting, reading their plates, watching the broadcasts on the wall imager, or talking on QVs. They all seemed oblivious to the fact that they might explode into a gazillion nano-particles. But why should they care? They trusted this crazy concept. Probably done it a hundred times. No reason not to trust it. Not a worry in the world. Blind faith.