Game Changer Copyright

Game Changer – Copyright © 2017 J.T. Prescott.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher at author@jtprescott.com.

Prologue

Two black SUVs stopped in front of the small tract house. One man walked to the front door as two others walked around the opposite sides of the house. The other men took their positions as backup. The extraction wouldn’t take long; they were highly skilled professionals.

As he watched the vehicles pull up, his decision was made quickly. He scrambled down the ladder from the tree house that he had built for his kids to use when they came to visit every other weekend. It was in the back of a modest yard that bordered a small wooded area in the little development of twelve homes. Earlier he had parked his car almost a mile away in a small strip center in case he needed to make a run for it. He wondered if it was a crazy idea at the time, but not now.

He stayed in the woods, keeping parallel to the main road. The wooded area ended at a crossroad, and he crouched down and watched as one of the SUVs slowly patrolled the neighborhood. The trees were thick and provided the cover he needed, as the men hunting him cruised by. They had obviously discovered that he wasn’t home and his car was gone. He hoped they would leave soon to search elsewhere.

It all started during the impromptu office party late that afternoon at a local rathskeller where they had toasted the coming December holidays. He had a little too much to drink and spoke about things that he shouldn’t have.

“I wish I got to work on cool stuff like you do,” his colleague said loudly to be heard over the volume of music and chorus of conversations.

They both toasted each other with whiskey, having moved beyond beer a while ago.

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” he said, wedged in between people at the packed bar.

“That demo was incredible.”

“That doesn’t even do it justice. It is way beyond its time, but none of its real capability was showcased–” He caught himself, but it was too late.

His colleague stared at him for an extended awkward moment and then said, “Really? You know they’re going to want to know all about it.” The cacophony of the room was building as the drinking and merriment grew, but his colleague lowered his voice to be safe and leaned closer. “Ridley held out on them, and no one knows what happened to him.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked nervously. They huddled even closer and tried to move away from the crowd.

He could smell the whiskey on the breath of his colleague as he leaned in close.

“Four years ago right before you came on board, Bo Ridley had built a new radar application that was cutting edge, but he didn’t want it used on an offensive weapon system. Bo thought it should be used for our protection as a defensive tool only.” His colleague looked quickly to his sides and continued speaking in a loud whisper. “Bo learned that it was going to be the centerpiece for a new weapon.” He paused. “All I know is that he hated the idea. One day he didn’t show up for work. The next day his desk was cleaned out, and it was like he was never even here. We were told that he had moved on, but nobody has heard from him since. And … we were ordered not to try and contact him, because he was the subject of a federal investigation.”

He noticed a man in a suit reflected in the mirror behind the bar and wondered if he’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. The man pulling out his cell phone as he left the establishment.

He remembered overhearing a heated discussion a few weeks ago between his boss and a man he had never seen before. The words weren’t discernable, but there was yelling and it was upsetting. He’d asked his boss about it and was told to forget that he heard anything. His boss said that everything would be taken care of. The frightened look on his boss’s face had been burned into his memory. Over the past two weeks his boss had him transfer his files to a local drive that his boss kept, a deviation from the usual protocol, but he had complied. His boss was his mentor, and he owed him so much.

It was just past five when he said his goodbyes and left the bar. He drove to the Ford dealer, where he dropped off his car for a scheduled service appointment and drove out in a loaner.

  On his way home his paranoia got the best of him, and he decided to park at the strip center a little less than a mile from his house. He went into the electronics store and bought a pre-paid cell phone and disabled his own. He walked the rest of the way and entered his backyard through the woods and climbed into the tree house.

As the minutes ticked by he felt silly. What the hell am I doing, he thought. When the SUVs pulled up, such thoughts disappeared instantly.

Now, crouched in the woods in darkness, he plotted his next move. He needed to get to his loaner car and warn his boss. After that he would gather his thoughts and make a longer-term plan. Calling his boss was out of the question, they’d find out. He texted his boss’s personal computer, a computer that only he knew about. Most likely it was where the files were being kept. He erased the text after it had been sent successfully.

Chapter 1 – Discovery

Dr. Alvin Grace leaned back in his chair, taking a break from putting the final touches on his masterpiece. He had nicknamed it Slim. Years in the making, his life had been dedicated to designing and building a transformational breakthrough in the world of nanotechnology. No patents would be filed, because it was protected by trade secrets, his trade secrets. Patent filings would give a road map for development to the scientific world and he couldn’t allow that, it was too dangerous.

Alvin Grace was fifty-nine years old, of average height with a head of thick white hair that had a mind of its own. His father, of African American heritage, had been a high school chemistry teacher, and his mother, a Native American, had taught math at the same high school. He had grown up in a world of academia, and he had blossomed beyond imagination. By any measure, Alvin was a genius. If the world’s smartest scientists scored ten on the ten-scale, Dr. Alvin Grace was so far above them, there simply was no scale to measure him by, truly one of a kind. He had been a full professor at MIT until he took his current job to completely devote himself to Slim.

Recently, Alvin had demonstrated Slim for the people he worked for and they had been impressed with it, although he only showed them a wisp of its capability. Slim had potential that only Alvin understood, and he kept it that way on purpose, because he had grown to distrust the intentions of his employer.

Alvin worked for New Horizon R&D, which was dedicated to research for the military. It was solely funded by The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, better known by the acronym DARPA. The company employed scientists and engineers, but it was run by former military brass. General Benjamin Larkin, a senior man at the Pentagon, controlled the funding for New Horizon. Larkin was tasked to deliver new technology that would make the United States a safer place. In Larkin’s mind that meant new weapon systems needed to be developed constantly.

It was early in the morning and Alvin had been in his office all night, which was not unusual when he was fixated on something. His office had a sofa with a pullout bed that he used, as needed, whenever he spent the night. Alvin walked out of his office stretching his arms, heading to the kitchen for a nice wake-me-up mug of steaming hot coffee.

Staff members were milling about as they fortified themselves at the beginning of another day at New Horizon. Alvin noticed that his assistant, Blake Weston, was not among them, which was unusual. Blake was usually one of the first to arrive.

He walked out to the receptionist.

“Did Blake call in?”

“No sir,” she answered.

“Hmm,” was all he said, making his way back to his office.

 

The second complete day without hearing from Blake came to an end, as Alvin put on his warm, wool coat and scarf. He was worried and could tell that others were, too. Just as he reached the front door, two uniformed policemen greeted him.

“We are looking for Dr. Alvin Grace,” one of them said.

“I’m Dr. Grace. How can I help you?” he answered with concern.

“Is there somewhere we can speak in privacy?”

“Certainly.” He showed them into a conference room off the lobby and shut the door.

Once they were seated, the lead officer took off his hat. “I’m sorry to tell you that Dr. Weston was in a fatal car crash–”

“My god …” Alvin’s hands began to tremble and his chin quiver. Tears came quickly.

The officer gave him some tissues as he tried to compose himself. “What happened?” he managed to ask, his voice barely audible and shaking.

“He was found in a ditch off the George Washington Parkway, just outside of Arlington. No other vehicles were involved. It looks like he was intoxicated. His blood alcohol was over the limit.”

Alvin buried his face in his hands with his elbows on the conference room table.

“We contacted the next of kin, his sister, who lives in Indiana. She said that she thought you were not only his boss but also a good friend. I hate to ask you this but we do need to formally identify the body, and we were hoping you might be willing to do that. His sister has given her consent.”

“Give me a minute.”

“Of course, we’ll wait outside. Thank you.”

Alvin steeled himself for the task before him. He took a deep breath and joined the officers to follow them to the morgue and identify Blake’s body.

Silent tears streamed down his face as he looked down at Blake’s lifeless body. He had taken his trusted assistant for granted all these years, so dependent on him. Now, in a flash, he was gone.

After filling out some paperwork, he drove home, numb.

 

Sitting down at his desk in his study, he decided to bury himself in his work to try to take his mind off his grief. Alvin needed to accept the fact that Blake’s propensity to carouse had finally caught up with him.

He opened the secret compartment in the wall behind his desk, a removable piece of base molding, and pulled out his laptop. The laptop housed his documentation for Slim.

Once he booted up, a message notification appeared.

That’s odd, he thought.

After opening it, he froze as he read the text from Blake.

I’m on the run. Two  SUVs showed up at my house, but I managed to get away. They overheard me talk about Slim. I’m so sorry. Look up what happened to Bo Ridley. Be careful. I’ll contact you when I can.

Tears gave way to shock. Eventually, his gifted, disciplined mind took control and raced through the implications. He had done the right thing to remove Slim and leave behind a lot of files and programs that would ultimately mislead the scientific teams that would be ordered to commandeer Slim. None of the scientists would be able to quickly discern that they did not have a working version of Slim. Alvin’s level of knowledge was so far above theirs that they simply had no way to understand any of his work, so they would be analyzing his files for weeks, if not months, before they realized what he had done. He was convinced that no one would be able to carry on with his project after he left, which would now be as soon as he gathered his necessities.

As he went about assembling his things and readied himself to flee, he physically felt very strange. He was distressed over Blake and the whole situation, but this was something different.

Something doesn’t feel right, something else is wrong, he thought to himself.

He decided to run some blood work on himself. The tests were fine on the surface, but when he viewed one slide under his electron microscope, he saw it. A few tests later confirmed it. Somehow they had infected him with neurotoxin XF–18.

My coffee, he thought.

He sat down at his lab table and propped himself up with his elbows, burying his face in his hands. Motionless, he stayed at the table as the acceptance of his impending death swept over him.

Earlier in the day, a secretary had brought him coffee, which he usually got himself. They must have done it then. He knew all about the weaponized neurotoxin, since he had opposed its development.

Blake’s death disappeared in his mind, as he became possessed with the fact that he had ninety days left to live. That gave him ninety days to find a caretaker for Slim, or destroy it.

Alvin had been planning his exit as a contingency plan for a while, so many arrangements were in place. He had new identification–driver’s license, bank account and credit card. There was a vehicle in storage in his new name, and he had twenty thousand dollars in cash that he had managed to withdraw and stash over the last six months. He only had to pack his laptop and some basics; most everything else was taken care of. After looking out windows in the front of his house and seeing nothing suspicious, he slipped out the back door and made his way to the mini-storage facility nearby.

The hoodie covered his face from the security cameras, as he punched in the code that would be recorded as Owen Jeffries entering the facility. He opened the door to unit 108 and drove out in a dated white VW Beetle.

It was about a three-hour drive to the sleepy town of Princess Anne on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. He had rented a small house and barn on a large property that was owned by an elderly couple. They were more than happy to get the timely rent check every month from Owen Jeffries. He pulled up to the house and parked his car. He entered the barn to find the extra-large van just as he had left it. The van had been customized to allow for a workspace, cot, and stacked shelving where Slim was secure.

After entering the special code and following the complex protocol, he put Slim in the startup mode and lay down to get some rest.

Chapter 2 – Unfair

At thirty-two-years old, Will Parnell was just shy of six feet and in good shape, working out regularly. He wore his brown hair on the long side and most regarded him as good looking. By profession he was an accountant, and he’d passed the CPA exam. Diligent and hard-working, he’d recently earned a law degree from Temple’s night program and passed the bar. He thought he had achieved significant professional accomplishments, but he was still in a dead-end position career wise, at least that was what his wife of four years, Claire, told him every moment that she had a chance. His father and older brother chimed in with the same tune in support of Claire, whom they liked very much.

Will and Claire had been high school sweethearts in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio. They went to the same college together, Ohio State, and settled in Philadelphia where Will worked as an accountant and Claire, a journalist, was hired as a reporter for a local news station. Her attractive looks and engaging presence on camera helped her career to flourish. Will was proud of his beautiful wife and her successful career. They saved their money and finally married four years ago. Soon after that, the trouble began. Will wanted a family and Claire wanted a career. They weren’t on the same page.

As time went on, Claire’s opportunities grew, while Will’s never seemed to materialize. Yet, he was very supportive of her, so when an opportunity came to move to a news station in New York City, he supported her decision to take it, because he knew she wanted it badly. She commuted at first and then got a pied-à-terre, coming home on weekends. After eighteen months, she came home every other week, and then every three weeks.

During the recent holiday party at her news station, he watched his wife dance with a colleague, a little too closely. They fought about it afterwards, and he ended up going back to Philadelphia, alone. Arguments had become the norm, but this one had been different.

 

As he sat in his small office, depressed, his phone rang. It was the receptionist telling him that a process server was in the lobby looking for him. The firm was always getting served on behalf of its clients who opted to do battle with the IRS. Many of those clients were accounts that Will generally worked on.

He walked out to the lobby, signed for it and walked back to his desk. It was from a small law firm in town. Sitting down, he opened it and stared at the first page, as the air rushed out of his lungs. The law firm represented Claire, and she was suing him for divorce. It encouraged him to have his legal representative contact them so the matter could be settled amicably. Tears welled up in his eyes, and there was a huge lump in his throat.

How could you do this? he cried to himself.

The firm’s managing partner stepped into his office and shut the door. “I heard that you got served by those jerks. My ex used ’em …” she said. Word had spread fast throughout the firm.

He couldn’t respond, frozen in shock. Finally, through the pain, he managed to blurt out, “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”

“No. I have work …” his voice broke, but he caught himself.

She sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “Will, you are one of the most valued employees here. Everyone depends on you. You make them all look good–”

He abruptly cut her off. “Then why am I never promoted? I’m not a partner. I outwork everyone. The sacrifices I’ve made have just benefitted everybody but me!” Will was more surprised by his outburst than the managing partner. He truly liked her and regretted the tone of his voice, but he desperately needed to vent.

“Will, you don’t bring clients to the firm. You do good work, and that’s why you have job security with us,” she said sternly.

He took a cleansing breath and looked at the ceiling. “I think I’ll take the afternoon off after all.” His mind was still numb as he tried to decide what to do or feel next.

“Good. Come back when you feel fresh and ready to go.” She was unsettled by their exchange and left quickly.

He blew his nose and collected himself before grabbing his briefcase to leave.

When he reached the lobby one of the partners, an athletic looking man, said, “Yo, Parnell. Sorry to hear about the wife … She came on to me once, you know.” The partner’s large mouth framed by thick lips smiled showing a broad array of artificially veneered teeth under a bulbous nose.

Will bristled as he walked past the receptionist, saying nothing on his way to get his coat out of the closet. Once the partner disappeared, the receptionist ran to Will’s side. “He’s an asshole, Will, and everybody knows it. I’m so sorry about Claire,” she said sincerely.

Will thanked her and left.

It had been years since Will had been out during the day, except on business. Even though it was early afternoon he stopped at a bar and had a drink, followed by several more. He watched the sports news as he drowned his sorrows, and ate a burger to soak up the alcohol. After a while, he decided to leave before the cocktail crowd arrived.

He walked back to his ground floor, one bedroom apartment in the Art Museum area.

Once inside, his cell rang. It was Claire. He answered with no emotion. “Yeah.”

“Did you get my package?” she asked.

My package, he thought.

“I got your divorce suit,” he responded.

“Will, I’m sorry to serve you at work, but I needed to be sure you got it, and you work all the time. Anyway, I’d like to do this as quickly as we can, and as simply as possible. You keep your money, and I keep mine. We both go our own way.”

He wanted to engage in a real discussion, but he knew it was hopeless.

“Did you hear me?” she said.

“I heard you. I’ll be in touch with your law firm tomorrow.” He hung up the phone. He’d never hung up on her before, but he was experiencing a lot of firsts lately.

The cell rang again. It was Claire. He turned it off, kept drinking until he fell asleep.

 

The next day he slept in and eventually got up, showered, shaved, and dressed. Over a cup of coffee, he called Claire’s lawyer and explained that he was a member of the bar and would represent himself. They were finished in less than an hour.

He dropped by the law firm, which was five blocks from his office, and executed the no-fault divorce papers. Claire signed as well in New York and scanned the signature page and sent it back while Will was still with her lawyer.

Leaving the law firm, life felt bittersweet. He knew he had done the right thing and that he’d be better off, but he was leaving behind all that history with Claire, some were memories he cherished. However, as each minute ticked by he felt more and more relief. He’d hated their life together since she took the job in New York. He tried to support her decision, but he hated himself for doing it. Their marriage was over, and he knew he had to learn to be glad that it was.

He stopped at a corner coffee shop and got a small coffee to go. As he sipped it while walking to the office he had another epiphany, and he decided that it was time to make more changes.

He walked into the office passing the receptionist. She smiled and he smiled back, just as the asshole partner was passing through. “Parnell, I need the Brodsky cash flow and tax projections for my meeting first thing tomorrow morning. You’re gonna’ need to work all night. We have a strategy session on Brodsky in the main conference room in thirty minutes. Be there.”

“Got it,” Will said as the asshole partner marched off, taking himself very seriously.

Will went to his office and gathered his files on the Brodsky account and prepared a document for the meeting.

By the time he walked into the main conference room there were people standing and talking in small groups. Four of the partners were there, in addition to the managing partner, the asshole partner and four associates. The Brodsky account was the firm’s largest and its most lucrative.

Will cornered the managing partner and said, “Can I have a few minutes before we get–”

The asshole interrupted, “We need to jump on the Brodsky matter now,” he announced loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Any personal crisis you have can wait.”

The managing partner glared at her asshole partner who pulled a mea culpa. “Brodsky is big business, and fees that we dearly need.”

She looked kindly at Will. “Is it okay with you if we deal with the Brodsky matter first and then talk?” she asked.

“Certainly,” he replied, always professional.

The asshole stood at the head of the table. “All right. We will show our client the resulting cash flow and tax benefits in the form of a projection concerning the merger that he is contemplating. He has chosen our firm because of the analysis that I did on his existing business last year, which gave him a roadmap to improve his bottom line by twenty-three percent. I might add, that is how we got the account to begin with. Now, the relationship is building, based on the solid foundation that we have. Parnell will fill out my template with the necessary modifications to give our client another roadmap to prosperity, and we’ll have that by eight o’clock tomorrow morning, so that we can be ready to present at ten.” He looked at Will. “I need you to commit to that timeframe, Parnell.”

All eyes turned to Will.

After a pause that everyone noticed, Will calmly said, “I don’t think so.”

There were gasps and chatter.

What?” the asshole’s voice boomed.

Will waited until he had everyone’s attention. He spoke boldly with confidence. “A year ago, you came to me with the Brodsky matter. You didn’t understand how the parent company and its subsidiaries functioned. I spent weeks analyzing the cash flow and tax impact of recommendations that I ultimately made to change their business structure. When I showed it to you, you didn’t understand it, so we had to go over it many times.”

“I needed to vet–”

Don’t interrupt me.” Will said firmly. He was on a roll. “Then you presented it to the firm and the client as your own work product. Now, you want me to analyze a merger deal using that template. The bottom line is that you don’t understand the work involved, you performed none of it. I’m not about to wet nurse another one of your clients.”

“Are you quite finished?” The asshole was fuming, his face beet red.

“Not quite.” Will carefully scanned the people in the room. They were in shock.

Perfect, he thought.

“You are one of the most uninformed and incompetent accountants that I have ever met. I will no longer brook your bad behavior or your ignorance.”

“You won’t be at this firm much longer,” he seethed.

“That’s correct.” Will stood and handed an envelope to the managing partner. “That is my resignation, effective immediately.” He gathered his briefcase as people began to deal with the shocking performance they had just witnessed. He held up his index finger to get everyone’s attention. “Oh, one more thing. If I hear one word of slander from you, or anyone at the firm for that matter, I’ll haul you into court right along with your insurance carrier.”

Will left to pack up his things.

Word spread like wild fire throughout the firm. People were talking. Will Parnell was becoming a legend in the making.

The managing partner walked into his office. “Wow,” she said.

“Yeah. That’s been brewing for a while.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll figure that out later. I have a CPA and a law degree, so I’ll find something, somewhere.”

“No transition?” She was concerned.

“I have a running commentary on every account that I work on with all source documents and a work plan that I’ll send you. If you need anything else, just call me–just you and you alone.”

“Have it your way, Will. Take care of yourself.” She left confused and angry.

Will only packed a few things. It all fit in a small box.

Walking through the lobby the receptionist gave him the thumbs up and smiled. Will smiled back.

Chapter 3 – The General

General Benjamin Larkin paced the floor in his large office as he lectured the man seated before him, Chet Hackett.

“Chet, you’ve served me with distinction, which is why you are running New Horizon. So, you can imagine my shock, when I discovered that one of your people is keeping an advanced technology from us, for whatever reason.”

“Sir–”

The General raised his hand to silence him. “Let me finish. I realize these scientists have a mind of their own. But, I don’t need to remind you, everything they produce, their entire work product, is owned by DARPA per the terms of our funding agreement. Keeping information from us that is vital to this nation’s welfare is illegal and treasonous.”

“Sir, how do you know that someone is keeping information from you. Certainly, you don’t think that I would.”

“Of course not, Chet.” A tired smile crossed his face. “We monitor anyone that we have reason to be suspect of. You know that.”

Hackett nodded.

“We have suspected for some time that Alvin Grace has had another agenda, and we confirmed it the other day. You and I need to decide what to do about it,” the General said.

“What do you think it is?” Hackett asked, totally surprised.

“We’ve learned that Grace has built a technology that’s a breakthrough in nanoparticles–exactly what, we don’t know.” The General took a moment to gather his thoughts. “The good professor keeps virtually all of this to himself, and that makes him dangerous,” he emphasized.

“How do you want him handled?” Hackett asked, fearing the worst.

The General’s brow furrowed. “We are taking steps to secure all of his research, and when we have it, we won’t need him any longer.”

“What do you need me to do?” Hackett asked.

“You just be prepared to get your scientists all over his work. No one is indispensable,” the General said with conviction, but Hackett wasn’t so sure when it came to Dr. Alvin Grace.

Hackett left, and the General’s next appointment arrived, five minutes later.

“Good morning, sir.”

Reed Logan closed the door and sat across from the General.

“Tell me where we are,” Larkin ordered.

“We have secured all of Grace’s research, and we infected him with the neurotoxin earlier today.”

“How long will it take?” the General asked.

“It takes ninety days. There are virtually no symptoms. On the ninetieth day, it hits like a bolt of lightning, and it’s over.”

The General nodded. “Well done. Get me an update before the end of the day.”

“Yes sir.” Logan left.

 

The General neatened the few objects on his desk. Everything in his life had a purpose and a place. Larkin was a complicated man. Educated at West Point, he had served his country with distinction. At just over six feet and square jawed, he was in good shape and cut a dashing figure for his fifty-six years.  Married twice and divorced, he had three grown children with families of their own that he only saw once a year, if he had to. The altruism and kindness of his youth had given way a long time ago to a practical reality and brittle hardness, which caused him to cross lines from which there was no return. He had grown comfortable with all his life’s choices.

 

Reed Logan was back, providing an update. “I confirmed that Grace went to the morgue and identified the body of Blake Weston. We learned that he was very upset.”

“What do you think happened?” the General asked.

“I can’t prove it yet, but I think Weston somehow got word to Grace. Remember, we caught Weston while he was running from us. We learned that the technology has massive capability, although Weston couldn’t give us anything other than a general statement that it can render a subject invisible.”

What!” the General gasped.

“Unbeknownst to Grace, Weston saw him use it two weeks ago. It’s not at all like the crude attempts that have been made to date. This is the real deal.”

“What else did he say?” the General asked, anxiously.

“His heart gave out. We couldn’t bring him back,” the man said with resignation.

“Heart? What did you do to him!” the General erupted

Logan looked down at his hands. “We didn’t touch him. After a little digging, we learned that Weston had a bad heart condition. The stress of the situation killed him. It was just too much.” Logan frowned and shook his head.

“So, Dr. Grace is spooked and on the run, but in ninety days he’ll be dead?” the General asked.

“That’s right,” Logan confirmed.

“We need to find him before he does any damage!”

“We’re trying, but he went off the grid. He systematically withdrew twenty thousand over the last six months, so he’s been planning this for some time.

The General slumped in his chair. “He could be anywhere. We’ll need to go public that we’re looking for him.”

“Do you want me to handle that?” Logan asked.

“No. I’ll get my staff on it. They’ll find him. I just hope it’s in time.”

 

The General called a meeting of his trusted staff. They were gathered in his spacious conference room.

“We have confirmed that Dr. Grace has committed treason, and he is on the run. We need to find him. That man possesses secrets that are vital to this nation,” the General said.

“Sir, shall we’ll alert NSA.”

“Yes and if we don’t locate him by this time tomorrow, I want you to unleash the FBI,” the General said.

“We can have a BOLO put out, if you want that.”

The General stood up. “If he’s gone to ground, then we are best served by having all of the government’s resources at work. Grace is a smart man, and we must never forget that. We must make sure that he never shares his technology with another soul or god forbid–one of our enemies.”

His staff left to broaden the hunt for Dr. Grace. It was a national priority.

Chapter 4 – The Search

Alvin Grace woke up after a fitful sleep of five hours. He stretched and looked at Slim, which was operational. He made some instant coffee and sat down at his workstation. He began to interact with Slim using a keyboard.

Dr. Grace needs to find a trusted person to act as a caretaker for Slim.

When?

Soon.

Slim will create a list of people with the right profile for Dr. Grace to choose from.

How will Slim find the people?

Connect Slim to the Internet. Slim will scour the psychological profile and personnel files of all data bases of all relevant companies, federal, state and local governments, charities, and educational institutions. Slim will then review all personal digital records. Recommendations will be made to Dr. Grace.

Alvin had provided for Internet access in the barn and the house when he rented it earlier in the year. He also had the van rigged for high-speed mobile Internet access.

He drove the van outside of the barn and connected Slim to the Internet, and he switched to voice activation.

He placed a small black box in the console to the right of the driver’s seat and plugged it into the 12-volt outlet. The black box functioned as a control center for Slim.

“Slim, I want you to scan the area and let Dr. Grace know when it is safe to run the stealth mirror application.”

“At the moment, there are many people in the viewing area,” Slim responded.

“Let Dr. Grace know when it is clear.”

Alvin drove out to the main road, U.S. Route 13, and turned north. When he got to U.S. Route 50 he turned east and headed to the coast. His destination was Ocean City, Maryland, where he would turn north and cruise through the beach towns of Delaware.

As he pulled into Ocean City, Slim gave him an update. “A preliminary report is available. There are just over sixty-two thousand people that meet the profile. There will be a short list finalized by evening.”

Alvin smiled. Slim’s artificial intelligence dwarfed that of anyone or anything he had ever experienced. He needed to get Slim into the right hands. The stakes were high.

 

As they drove north on Delaware Route 1 through the beach towns, Slim spoke. “It is clear to activate the stealth mirror application.”

“Please activate now,” Alvin responded.

Within seconds the van was rendered invisible, and all sounds from the van were muted. This was a basic application in Slim’s arsenal.

“How is the development of the flight application?” Alvin asked.

“There is functionality of sixty-three percent. Would Dr. Grace like to try it out?” Slim inquired.

“Yes. Commence.”

A hologram of a dashboard with multiple control levers appeared near Alvin’s right hand. Alvin drove the van into one of the parking areas for beach goers and continued to one of the access trails to the beach. It wasn’t long before the van became stuck. He gently touched one of the levers and moved it up slightly and the van rose three feet above the beach. Next, he tilted one of the levers and the van moved forward, maintaining its height above the beach. They cruised up the beach–invisible and three feet in the air. As they approached a rock jetty, Alvin increased their altitude by fifty feet and turned right, cruising over the ocean and then continuing north.

“Reaction?” Slim inquired.

“It’s very good. When will the Level One development be complete?” Level One was comprised of many potent applications.

“Slim estimates that it will be complete in less than twenty-four hours.”

They continued to cruise parallel to the coast. As they neared Atlantic City, Slim said, “It is time to turn left and plan to put down on the road.”

“Why? Dr. Grace was planning to go to Montauk Point,” Alvin said.

“A leading candidate on the list is in Philadelphia. Does Dr. Grace want to meet this candidate soon?”

“Yes.”

They found a deserted road off the Atlantic City Expressway and touched down. After exiting the stealth mirror mode, they proceeded to Philadelphia. It was dark and the roads were crowded as they approached the Delaware River.

“Tell me about this person and the characteristics that caused Slim to choose him or her,” Alvin said.

“It’s a him, and his name is Will Parnell. He is of above average intelligence, and of very high moral integrity,” Slim said.

Alvin considered what he heard, and he was not comfortable. “Does Slim need someone with a high IQ to do this.”

“Slim will provide the intelligence. Trust, loyalty and above average intelligence are what’s needed. Dr. Grace designed and built Slim to perpetuate itself. That part is over. Slim needs a trusted caretaker.”

“What qualifies Will Parnell?” Alvin asked.

“Will Parnell has chosen trust and loyalty above his own self-interest time and time again. Per multiple employee reviews, he is dependable. Multiple psychological profiles consistently show that he places morality above all else.”

Alvin thought for a moment. “What if all of the information is wrong?”

“It could be, but that is why Dr. Grace will interview him.”

“Interview?” Alvin squawked.

“Dr. Grace will observe Will Parnell and interact with him and form an opinion.”

“Is there anything else about this Will Parnell that Dr. Grace should know?” Alvin asked.

“Yes. Will Parnell is recently divorced and left his job as an accountant. Within the last year, he passed the bar exams in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.”

Alvin shook his head. “He’s a quitter.”

“Monitoring of his communication and that of others suggests otherwise. Will Parnell is an unusually gifted man. He is available and looking for something new to commit his life to.”

“Let’s decide where to go for the night,” Alvin said.

“The government has issued a nationwide alert to be on the lookout for Dr. Grace. I recommend for tonight that Slim enters the stealth mirror mode and perch above the Delaware River next to the roadway of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge.”

“Is your power module loaded?” Alvin asked.

“No. Once Slim goes into the stealth mirror mode again, Slim will take on hydrogen from the Delaware River.”

“Commence.” Alvin said.

They exited I-676 into Camden, across the river from Philadelphia. As they got close to the river, Slim scanned the area and determined that it was safe to enter the stealth mirror mode.

In an abandoned crack house, one of the junkies was looking out of a broken window at the large van as it vanished.

Shit! I saw a UFO, man.”

“A UFO? You’re high, man,” the dealer said.

“I ain’t high yet, man. Fuck!”

“What exactly did you see?” the dealer asked.

They walked over to the window and looked out together. “There was a van right by the corner lot, man. It disappeared, poof. Aliens took it, man.”

“Shoot up, man. Don’t worry ‘bout no aliens.” The dealer shook his head and left the crack house. If there was a stakeout of one of his houses, he needed to know. He slithered between buildings and back alleys, careful not to be seen if anyone was watching from the road. Crawling up the side of an old vacant garage with broken out windows, he peered over the roofline where he had an unobstructed view of the corner lot and the blocks around it. He waited patiently for ten minutes. Nothing. He lowered himself to the ground and walked to the corner. The filth from unclean streets, trash and debris was soft under his feet from the recent rain. As he got closer his eyes told him that a vehicle had been there. He walked part of the way to the river following the tire tracks until they just stopped abruptly.

Later, in the backroom of a Camden bar, the dealer was settling-up with his supplier.

“Crazy night, bro.”

“It’s winter and a full moon, man,” the supplier said.

“Yeah, I know. One of my solid customers said he saw a van disappear. He thought aliens took it,” the dealer said.

“A junkie saw something disappear. Come on, man.”

“I know. I know. But listen, I thought that maybe the cops or feds might be watching, so after I left the house I went to look. I found tire tracks in the area that just fuckin’ stopped close to the water.”

The supplier put down his beer. “Just stopped?”

“Yeah … like it disappeared.”

“Shit, man. Who was the customer that saw this?” the supplier asked.

“Horseshoe. Been solid, man. He’s not a crazy shit like them rest.” The dealer looked at his hands.

“Keep your eye out. Could be the feds. They got new wild shit all the time. I’ll get the word out. Be careful.” The supplier left with a worried look on his face.

Chapter 5 – Life Goes On

Will Parnell had just finished breakfast when his cell phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Will. It’s Jared Coombs from the Governor’s office in Harrisburg. The Watson firm in DC referred me to you. Apparently, they worked with you on a relocation analysis for a public relations firm that helped them lure in a big tenant for their landlord client. Anyway, they thought that you might be interested in helping us in a similar situation. I called your old firm, and the receptionist informed me that you were no longer there, and she was kind enough to give me a number for you.”

Will smiled. “Sure, how can I help you?”

Will and Coombs talked for the next hour about the situation. They agreed that Will would be placed on a retainer by the State of Pennsylvania and receive a success fee if the company decided to locate anywhere in the state from its current location in LA.

After a shower, Will checked his email. There was an invitation to his class reunion, number fifteen. There were also several emails from his old friends asking him to attend. They had heard about the divorce and felt this was the right thing for him to do. He groaned and responded to his friends that he’d think about it. It wasn’t until September, which was six months away, so he had plenty of time to decide.

He settled in at his workstation and formed a limited liability company online in Delaware, Parnell & Associates, LLC. Next he sent Jared Coombs a basic services contract reflecting the terms of the deal they made.

Less than an hour later he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was signed and returned.

That was fast, he thought.

His cell phone rang again. It was the receptionist from his old firm. “Will I’m going to connect you to the managing partner in a minute, but first just listen. Brodsky is going to fire the firm unless they can get you to work on the account, at least that’s what I heard at the water cooler.” She paused, “You ready for me to connect you?”

“Sure … and thanks.” His mind sorted through several possibilities.

The managing partner came on. “Hello Will.”

“What a surprise,” he said.

“Not really. We have been working for the last four weeks on the Brodsky account, and we have learned that your work was very important to the project, so I have a proposal for you, if you’re interested.”

“I might be, depending on what it is,” Will said.

“The firm is willing to pay you as a contractor at the partner rate to spearhead the work on the account.”

“What’s the status of the relationship with Brodsky?” Will asked.

“I want to get the original team back in place … for continuity.” She ducked his question. Her lines were well practiced.

Will thought about it.  “Here are the terms that I would proceed with. You tell Brodsky that the firm’s original work is mine. Furthermore, I would be willing to have my new firm, which I control, contract with them and pay your firm a referral fee of ten percent of the revenue my firm receives. Additionally, the referral contract with your firm will require that asshole partner of yours to stay away from the client, any work related to it, and me. I’ll write the engagement … and this is non-negotiable.”

“I would have to take this to the partners–”

Will had had enough. “You have twelve partners. You have until five to accept my offer, which I’ll have to you within the hour. If I don’t hear from you or you don’t accept it, I’ll contact Brodsky at 5:01.”

There was a momentary silence. “What the hell happened to you?” She asked angrily.

“I woke the fuck up. You have until five.” He hung up.

Will prepared a referral agreement and sent it to the managing partner.

He put on his sweats and went for a jog.

Life was changing fast. There can’t be any more changes in store for me, he thought.

Chapter 6 – A Clue

The General stood in Chet Hackett’s office at New Horizon R&D. “I can’t believe that with all these scientists that you have not been able to put any of Grace’s work in an analyzable format.”

“General, our team has been working on this around the clock. Dr. Grace’s work is very complex and cutting edge. We just need more time.”

“Chet, get it done!” The General stormed out of the office.

He got into his chauffeur-driven car and sat next to Reed Logan.

“Anything, yet?” the General asked.

“Nothing official. Grace is off the grid.”

“How about unofficial?” the General asked.

“We get a lot of stuff that I don’t tell you about because it’s a waste of your time. We have to run it down, and that takes time,” Logan said.

“Give me your best of the unofficial,” the General ordered. He was desperate for information.

Logan sighed. “We have some intel from the underworld that a junkie saw a large van disappear in Camden a few nights ago. We’ve dispatched a team, but they haven’t reported in yet.”

The General sighed. “I see what you mean. Is that all we have right now?”

“It is, and we are all over it. If this junkie is the least bit credible, we’ll smother the area, but there is nothing in the information we have that ties Grace to Camden or the Delaware Valley.”

 

Two dark Chevy Suburbans pulled up to the out-of-the-way bar in Camden. Eight heavily armed men got out. The leader was greeted by a large man and escorted to the back room.

The leader sat at a table with the supplier, the dealer, Horseshoe and a young boy, no more than thirteen years old. “Who is Horseshoe?”

“I am.”

“Tell me what you saw,” the leader said.

Horseshoe squirmed in his seat. “What I git if I do?”

The dealer grabbed Horseshoe by the neck, “You want to know what you git if you don’t.”

“K, K, man!” Horseshoe yelped. “I saw a big van disappear before my eyes, down by the corner lot.”

“Did you see what color it was or anything special about it?”

“No, man. It was dark.”

“Is this real important to you?” the supplier asked.

“Yes.”

“How much important,” the supplier asked.

“Cash money important,” the leader answered.

The supplier considered the answer. “Okay. This is Junior Jimmy.” The dealer nodded to the boy. The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to the dealer. “Junior Jimmy is one of our team of spotters. We look for cops, competition, anything that ain’t right that could affect business. Check this out. This is the van that Horseshoe seen.” He handed the phone with a video on it.

The leader hit go and his spine stiffened when the van came into view. As the van drove by the spotter, there was a clear close-up of the driver. It was Dr. Alvin Grace.

“Does it help?” the supplier asked.

“Send this to this email address.” He handed him a card with the email address on it.

“Done,” The supplier said.

The leader handed the supplier ten, one hundred dollar bills. Nodded and left.

The supplier smiled. “Pleasure doin’ business whichya.”

The Suburbans left Camden.

The leader called his boss, Reed Logan. “We found Grace. I just sent you an email with a video attached. He was in Camden driving a van that disappeared.

“Stay in the area until I contact you,” Logan said.

Logan pushed the speed dial on his phone.

“Talk to me,” the General said.

“We have a video of Grace driving the van and a witness that says the van disappeared.”

“Get a net over the area.”

“Roger that,” Logan said.

The General looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Finally.”

Chapter 7 – Contact

Alvin awoke to the sounds of rush hour traffic pouring into Philadelphia. Slim could insulate inbound and outbound sound one-way or both ways. Alvin decided that he wanted to hear the sounds from the outside.

After making instant coffee and eating an energy bar he focused on Slim. “How should Dr. Grace contact Will Parnell?”

“Will Parnell has formed a new business. He is about to become very busy. Dr. Grace should contact him and meet him under the auspices of hiring him.”

“Sounds easy,” Alvin said.

“It may not be. The government and their contractors have somehow identified Dr. Grace and the van. They saw them in Camden. They are beginning to search the Delaware Valley.”

“What does Slim suggest?” Alvin asked.

“Slim recommends that Dr. Grace acquire a recreational vehicle and a smaller vehicle to tow behind it. Slim has identified an ideal twenty-five foot recreational vehicle in Ohio, and a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Slim will assist in the acquisition of both and change the colors. Slim will also properly register them.”

“How will Slim pay for them?” Alvin asked.

“Slim will create money digitally and feed it into the appropriate accounts.”

Alvin thought about the change that was required. “Okay. The recreational vehicle, which we will call the RV, will provide the extra room we need. Can Slim enable the flight mode while towing a Jeep?”

“Yes. Level One enables that,” Slim answered.

“Has the Level One development been completed?” Alvin asked.

“Completion is scheduled for thirty-four minutes from now. Slim’s factory for nanoparticles will be fully operational six minutes after Level One is completed.”

“Let’s go get our RV and our Jeep.”

The transfer of Slim to the RV took more time than Alvin thought it would, but it was done. With the Jeep in tow they flew back to Philadelphia in stealth mirror mode.

“Dr. Grace must plan for the security net that the government will place on the Delaware Valley. The public will be told that a terrorist threat is imminent and a picture of Dr. Grace will be broadcast using all media.”

Alvin expected something like this, but it was upsetting nevertheless. “How much time do we have?”

“Plans are being made to execute this within twenty-four hours,” Slim reported.

“Touchdown in Philadelphia. Contact Will Parnell and set up a meeting somewhere out of the main stream,” Alvin said.

They landed near an abandoned building in North Philadelphia, after Slim had reconnoitered the area carefully.

Alvin issued several commands. “Change the color of the Jeep to navy blue. Tint the windows. Register the vehicle with the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation and create a license plate.”

As the lights on Slim’s control panel came to life, Alvin walked back to the 3D printer that soon began to produce the Pennsylvania license plate. Once that was finished he watched one of Slim’s monitors as Slim put the final touches on the Jeep’s exterior as the flood of nanoparticles changed the color from white to blue.

Alvin took the Jeep out of stealth mirror mode and released it from the RV, which functioned as a mother ship. He sat in the Jeep and activated Slim Mobile, providing full access.

“Is a meeting set up with Will Parnell?” Alvin asked.

Slim’s voice came through the Jeep’s speakers. “Yes. You have a lunch meeting scheduled on Green Street less than one block from his apartment. The name of the restaurant is the Museum Shack.”

Alvin put the RV in stealth mirror mode and elevated it to fifty feet above the surrounding buildings where it would be safe. He drove off to get familiar with the area on his way to meet Will.

Lined with upscale townhouses, the Art Museum area is a very popular residential neighborhood. He parked his Jeep on the 2100 block of Green Street and walked a short distance to the Museum Shack.

Alvin walked in the front door and was greeted by the hostess who was standing at a lectern with a book of reservations. “Hi. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes I do. Mr. Jeffries, for two,” he answered.

She brightened. “Oh, yes. You’re with Will Parnell. Right this way Mr. Jeffries.”

The hostess guided him to the table. His guest was already seated.

“Mr. Parnell, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeffries. Please call me Will.”

“Fine, as long as you call me Owen.” Alvin smiled.

The waitress handed them menus and put out water. They ordered and she left.

“What type of engagement did you have in mind? Your email was very general.”

Alvin nodded slightly. “It’s a bit unusual, but I’m looking for someone very special that can oversee a unique technology.”

Will rubbed his chin with his right hand, and his face twisted with confusion. “I’m an accountant and a lawyer.”

“I’ve done a lot of research on you. You are a good fit for what I need.”

Will looked him over with penetrating eyes, skeptical of this strange man. “Really?”

“Oh yes, I believe that your background is in line with the type of individual that I am searching for–integrity, a solid moral compass.

“Okay. I don’t know how you would know that.”

“You’d be surprised,” Alan said.

Will considered his words. “Let’s move on for now. What can you tell me about the technology?”

“I can tell you quite a lot, but first I’d like to demonstrate it. However, we need to do it in privacy.”

“Do you need anything special to do the demo like a computer monitor or something?”

Alvin chortled. “No. I have everything I need. We just need privacy.”

I don’t have an office right now, but my apartment is right down the street. We can go there.”

“That sounds fine.”

They finished their lunch. Alvin paid the bill with cash, and they left.

They entered Will’s apartment and walked down a long hallway that passed several rooms and went down a staircase to an open living area with a kitchen at the end.

“Okay, this is fine. Why don’t you have a seat,” Alvin said.

Will sat on his couch and looked at Alvin. “I’m ready.” He smiled, filled with anticipation

“Will, this is a very small example of its capability.” With that Alvin disappeared.

Will was stunned. He was starting to panic when Alvin said, “Can you see me?”

“No. … No.” Will said in a dazed tone.

Alvin popped back into Will’s view. “I didn’t mean to scare you. This is called stealth mirror mode.”

Alvin sat in a chair across from Will. He decided to wait until Will said something.

Moments later, Will said, “What is stealth mirror mode … and what’s this all about?”

Alvin was pleased with the question. He hadn’t known what to expect. “Will, let me take your question in two pieces. Let me tackle the second part first. What’s this all about?” He stopped speaking to formulate his thoughts and continued. “My real name is Dr. Alvin Grace. I invented a new technology using nanoparticles. It’s a world-changing technology. It has vast capability.”

Will tried to gather himself. “Why did you use the name Jeffries?”

“Originally, I was studying nanoparticles and applied material science at a host of universities. My work gained the attention of many people. I was contacted by The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, better known as DARPA. They have funded many cutting-edge technologies. I was offered the chance to pursue my work with all their resources behind me. It’s what I’d always wanted to do–bring my thoughts into reality.”

“What happened?” Will was getting over his shock, and, despite his fear, he was interested in this bizarre old man and his tale.

“I joined New Horizon R&D, which was dedicated to research and heavily funded by DARPA. It was fine for many years. I was immersed in my work, and I’d never felt more fulfilled. I was in paradise.”

“What happened?” Will was intrigued.

“I started to see things that didn’t settle well with me. There were attempts to weaponize technologies that were meant to help, not hurt mankind. Eventually I sensed that they would be doing the same with me–”

“Who are they?” Will interjected.

Alvin smiled to himself. Maybe this was the right person. “They are the people charged with administering DARPA. Basically, DARPA is an agency under the Defense Department. The man handling the funding for New Horizon R&D is General Benjamin Larkin, and he works at the Pentagon. The CEO of New Horizon R&D is Chet Hackett. He’s a military man and really works for Larkin–”

“I thought he was the CEO of your company.”

“On paper, but he really reports to Larkin. The day came when I learned that one hundred percent of the funding for the company comes from DARPA, and that funding is controlled by Larkin.”

Will was nodding his head, taking it all in.

“Hackett came to me one day and told me that I had to demonstrate my work such that it could be analyzed against conventional weapons systems. After that discussion, I started preparing to take my work away from them as soon as I was finished to a point where it would be self-sustaining.”

“Self-sustaining?”

“Yes. It can continue to develop on its own to accomplish the goals that I laid out for it. Basically, it is a very advanced form of artificial intelligence,” Alvin said. “As to the first part of your question, let me explain stealth mirror mode. Basically, the way to visualize it is to imagine a panel on your back recording what the view is behind you and transmitting it to a panel on your chest and projecting that view. Its effect is to create the same view for someone looking at you from the front even though you are theoretically blocking the view. It also works in reverse allowing the same for someone viewing you from the rear.” Alvin could easily see that Will was becoming mesmerized, and that made him even more enthusiastic and animated than he usually was when he explained the functionality of Slim. “Now, imagine millions of nanoparticles covering you or any object for that matter and performing that same function on a nano level from all positions and angles. The net effect is to render you or the object invisible to anyone looking on from any vantage point.”

“That’s remarkable,” Will said, clearly in awe.

“It is, but as I mentioned, science and technology can be used to harm instead of help.

Will remembered the terminology that Alvin had used earlier. “Do you know of other technologies that were … weaponized?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I do. In fact, that is why I am here now.”

“What do you mean?”

Alvin explained about the toxin and his mission to find a caretaker for Slim.

Will was speechless.

Alvin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Will, I know this is a lot to absorb, but the well-being of our country is at stake here, and I don’t have the luxury of time. I need to determine very quickly if you should be the one to take Slim forward. If not, I must move on. If you are the one, there is much to learn.”

Will stood and walked to the bookcase along the wall and leaned on it with his left hand while he rubbed his neck with his right. “I don’t know. I can’t answer you right now. I need to think about it.”

Alvin expected as much. “We don’t have much time. The government will put the area under intense surveillance in the name of Homeland Security. My picture will be broadcast throughout the country.”

Will was bowled over by one bombshell after the other until he was on the verge of shock. “Intense surveillance? How do you know?”

“Slim can access any computer network with ease. The plan has already begun because someone reported seeing a vehicle disappear. A review of surveillance cameras in Camden showed me in that vehicle.” Alvin took a few breaths. The dizzying pace at which events were developing was hard to handle. “I’m new at this, but I’m learning fast, and Slim is learning even faster.”

“When will this intense surveillance begin?” Will asked.

“It will start within twenty-four hours and take a few hours to really ramp up.”

Will thought about the situation. It was loaded with danger.

“Share your thoughts with me,” Alvin said.

Will hesitated. This is crazy, he thought. “Disappear again,” Will said.

Instantly, Alvin disappeared.

Will looked at the space Alvin had occupied and saw no sign of him.

“Okay. Where are you?” Will asked.

“I’m here.”

Will spun around. Alvin was in the kitchen behind him.

“How did you move without me hearing you?”

“I floated past you. It’s another function. As I mentioned, there are many.” Alvin answered.

Will sat down as Alvin walked back to the chair he had been in. “You floated–as in flew?

“Basically, yes” Alvin answered.

Will was struggling to believe what he had seen. “You can fly and be invisible.”

Alvin smiled. “Yes. These are basic functions that Slim provides.”

Will needed time to think this proposition through. “If you give me until tomorrow, I’ll give you an answer.”

Alvin studied the confused young man before him. “All right. Where shall we meet?”

“We need someplace away from people and the intense surveillance.” Will paused to think about the possibilities. “Meet me on the beach in Cape May at the south end of the promenade on Beach Avenue. There is a covered sitting area. I’ll be there at 8:00 p.m. sharp.”

Alvin liked his thinking. “I’ll be there.”

They shook hands and Will walked him out of the building.