Jacques Beaumont was a small fastidious man always dressed in the finest clothes befitting a man of his stature and accomplishments. His father was French and his mother a Moor from Spain. He favored his mother with his dark skin. In public he was addressed formally as Mr. Beaumont. In the underworld, he was known as Black Jack and belonged to a secret cabal. Outwardly, he was perceived as quiet and aloof. To those that knew better, he was a dangerous, merciless man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.  Sitting back in his executive chair, he considered his next move and dialed his secure phone.

“Yes,” A voice answered.

“What kind of progress have you made in securing the technology?” Black Jack’s question sounded more like an interrogation. He had conducted many.

“We are searching everywhere. Grace has gone off the grid, but President Jarrett has pulled out all the stops. Grace’s face will literally be everywhere. We’ll find him.”

Black Jack was losing his patience. “I’m sure he’ll be found. I’m concerned about getting access to the technology. No matter what happens, you need to get me a copy, preferably the only copy. Am I making myself clear?”

“You are very clear. I’ll have a copy soon.”

“How can you do that?”

“A full copy was made of all of Grace’s files, source codes and documentation. I’ll have a copy of that shortly.”

Black Jack lifted his left hand to rub his eyes. “That’s fine, but listen to me, carefully. Dr. Grace is a very smart man. He may well have left a useless copy behind to send everyone in the wrong direction. Humor me and assume that he did.”

There was an awkward moment of silence. “If he did, the best and the brightest minds will conclude that soon. In the meantime, we will continue to hunt him.”

Patience was not a virtue that Black Jack possessed. “There is keen interest in Dr. Grace’s technology on the part of my colleagues. But there is a more profound reason to secure it.”

“More profound?”

Black Jack’s face grew dark and menacing. “Yes … like your future depends on it.”

There was silence.

“Unless he destroyed it, we will get it.”

“See that you do.” Black Jack terminated the call.

He dialed another call.

“Jack. How is the progress?” a man said.

“Interminably slow. I think Dr. Grace has escaped a very clumsy security team. The US government is engaging in a full hunt. I fear that our quest has become more … complicated.”

“We stand ready to assist in any way we can,” the man assured him.

“Activate all of your resources in Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland and New Jersey. Something has drawn him there. If we can find out what the connection is, then we’ll find him and that will get us closer to the technology.”

“What are we looking for?”

“I think the good Doctor went to the area to retrieve something or meet someone. He is alone, and he has no obvious tie to the area, so my hunch is that someone drew him to it.”

“Why do you think he is looking for anything in the area?”

“He’s desperate, and desperate people do desperate things,” Jack said.

“What makes him desperate? The government hunting for him?”

“That makes him cautious, but that’s not what makes him desperate.”

“Jack, no word games. What do you know?”

“He’s dying. He’ll be dead in less than ninety days.”

“I’ll make the calls.” The line went dead.

Black Jack looked out the window. His mind examined all the facts that he knew and created possible scenarios that would draw Dr. Grace to the Delaware Valley. He was deep in thought as he gazed upon the endless sea of clouds below him as he sat in his Gulfstream at thirty-thousand feet.

Alvin motioned Will to sit in the driver’s seat, and he sat in the passenger seat next to him, separated by a large console.

Alvin turned to look at Will. “Slim is the name of the technology. When interacting, always address the technology as Slim, and Slim will always address you as Will Parnell.”

“Is Slim a computer?” Will asked.

“Slim is much more than a computer. Slim is an artificial intelligence with many nanoparticle applications that I developed to design and produce nanoparticles.”

“Production?” Will asked with confusion in his voice.

“Basically, Slim is a nanoparticle factory with development and application functions that, before long, will be able to be used to accomplish almost anything. For example, we are invisible to the outside world right now, and we can fully insulate ourselves from outside noise or let sound flow in or in and out. Let’s get you started.”

“Do you turn Slim on with a key?”

Alvin laughed. “Heavens no.”

Alvin showed Will how to power Slim up and down. “You will probably keep Slim on all the time.”

“What about fuel or battery life?” Will asked.

“Great question. Let’s back up just a bit. Slim is mobile. The core of Slim is comprised of the boxes on the racks behind us. It can be located almost anywhere. When you travel like we can in the Jeep, you simply use this small unit, which is an extension of Slim or Slim Mobile.” Alvin pointed to a miniature black box on the console between them. It had a power cord that plugged into the twelve-volt receptacle in the dash.

“Slim runs off a car battery,” Will concluded.

“No. I hooked Slim Mobile into the RV’s electrical system to make the connection a little more efficient. Slim is powered by hydrogen, and shortly there will be no benefit from plugging it in to the car battery. A very abundant source is water. To refuel, which is necessary periodically, you simply place the vehicle in a large body of water and Slim will extract the hydrogen in one of its many factories and feed it into its power plant.”

“Do I do anything?” Will asked.

“Slim, provide Will Parnell with your dashboard to control the RV.” A hologram of Slim’s dashboard appeared over the center console, tilted towards Will. “Once Slim takes control of a vehicle, which is a matter of a seconds once the command is issued, you can access this dashboard by voice.”

Will examined what looked like several joysticks that Alvin explained were for vertical and horizontal movements allowing forward and backward motion and altitude changes. There were many controls and gauges that Will would learn about in time, but a rectangular button switch caught his attention and illuminated in green, marked ‘Stealth’.

“You can verbally command Slim to take you to a specific destination or a general area. For now, let’s try some manual movement. See if you can turn the RV to head out to the ocean.”

Carefully and slowly, Will took the controls and turned the RV perpendicular to the beach and went forward over the ocean. He adjusted the elevation to three hundred feet and did some slow turning maneuvers.

“This is like playing one of my nephew’s video games … better, actually.”

Alvin chuckled. “It’s the same eye-hand coordination, but you also have Slim to safeguard you. Consider this as the ultimate self-driving vehicle.”

Alvin showed him the fuel gage. “Let’s get some fuel. Issue a command to Slim to get fuel and set the RV on the bottom of the ocean wherever it is safe.”

Will looked at Alvin, tentatively. “Do I just say it?”

“Yes. You have the control.”

Will spoke each word distinctly. “Slim, get fuel. Put the RV safely on the bottom of the ocean below us.”

The RV descended slowly into the ocean and came to rest on the bottom. The fuel gauge glowed in green and the word fueling appeared above it.

Alvin watched as Will stared into the dark ocean. “Slim’s nanoparticles have covered the RV and sealed the structure giving it great strength. The RV can descend safely to any depth.

They rested on the bottom as Slim filled the power cells with hydrogen extracted from the water.

Alvin watched Will’s reaction as the fueling process took place. “Slim’s factories constructed fuel cells that I designed that use hydrogen. A tank of fuel should last you for a month or more depending on your activities. You just need a body of water–fresh, brackish or salt. You’ll need about thirty minutes to fill up when you are low. To be safe, Slim will remind you whenever your capacity is one half or less. The fuel is to power your vehicle. As time goes on, Slim will become more and more efficient and will require less and less fueling because it will be able to manufacture its own fuel.”

“Self-sustaining?”

“Pretty much. We should also talk about Slim Mobile.”

“Isn’t this mobile?”

“Yes and no. Slim is in the RV so that is the base or mother ship. When I met you on the pier and demonstrated the stealth mode in your apartment, I was using Slim Mobile. The box that I use in the Jeep or any other vehicle that leverages Slim is also a version of Slim Mobile.” He showed Will a small titanium case the size of a stack of ten credit cards. “When you are authenticated all you need to do is have it on your person. I am the only person that is authenticated for now.”

“How long does authentication take?”

“Not long, and only an authenticated person can grant another authentication. So, if the mobile unit is lost or stolen it’s useless to anyone else. Now, you will have the basic capabilities of Level One–invisibility, flight and a protective shield. You also have Level Two, which is more complicated. Here is a short primer on the scheduled development and a description of Slim’s capabilities.” He handed Will a bound report that he had prepared. “Study that later.”

A soft alarm sounded indicating that the fueling was finished.

“That was quick,” Will said.

“We just topped it off, so I could demonstrate fueling. Let’s take a trip to show you the travel function. Where shall we go?” Alvin smiled.

“Since it’s late, let’s just cruise up to Atlantic City,” Will said.

“Slim has a unique ability to transport us quickly since the development of Level Two has been completed. Why don’t you pick any destination anywhere in the US, and I’ll demonstrate. You can read about this function in your manual.”

Will thought for a moment. “How about Niagara Falls?”

“Okay. That’s an interesting choice. We can be there in minutes. Let’s buckle our seat belts, just to be safe.”

Will opened the manual to Level Two and read about transportation functionality. Slim’s technology could separate the atmosphere before it like layers of sheets and slip between them eliminating the force of friction, allowing great speed to be achieved by its host vehicle. Slim’s radar functionality guides it safely through its chosen route between points A and B.

“It’s hard to fathom. Does this work for Slim Mobile, too?” Will asked.

“That’s a good question. Level Two gives the host vehicle the benefit of rapid transport. Soon, Slim Mobile will provide the same. Go ahead and issue the command to Slim.”

Will tightened his seat belt and took a deep breath. “Slim, transport the RV to Niagara Falls using the maximum speed allowed with Level Two.”

The dashboard glowed as a three-dimensional map formed before his eyes and a red line showed the path to their destination. Will felt the RV move and slowly accelerate until they were enveloped in a gray fog.

Alvin watched Will as he studied the scene as it unfolded. “This is what it looks like when you slip between the sheets,” Alvin said.

Will looked at him. “Are we safe from other objects?”

“Yes. Slim’s radar function is very advanced. We won’t be close to any airborne object like a plane or helicopter. If an object is thrust upon us like a missile and Slim couldn’t get around it, the force fields would deflect it away.”

Will tried to comprehend such capability.

In less than ten minutes the RV began to slow and Niagara Falls came into view. They came to a stop and hovered about one thousand feet over the Falls.

“Let’s get some sleep, so we can get an early start,” Alvin said.

“That’s a good idea. I’m suddenly exhausted.”

They perched above the Falls in stealth mirror mode with exterior noise eliminated, wrapped safely in Slim’s force field. Will fell asleep watching one of Mother Nature’s wonders in majestic silence.

Cal Dixon let out an unconscious groan as he put down the plan that had been hurriedly assembled. It was basically a bureaucratic piece of garbage.

Years ago, before he entered the political world, he ran an international consulting firm. He made lots of things happen. It was business, not politics. He’d always chosen the best person for the job. Decisions were not burdened with compromises just to get a chit to be cashed in later for a much-needed favor. Then, everything in his life changed when his close friend Dan Jarrett asked him to be his chief of staff when he was elected governor. He answered the call from his dear friend. The governor’s office was soon recognized for its accomplishments based on Jarrett’s vision and Cal Dixon’s ability to make things happen. They were a great team and that teamwork propelled them to the White House.

He decided that he needed to reboot his effort, turn the clock back, and make things happen. The solution was to handpick a small group of people, his people, if he was going to accomplish what the president wanted. Opening his contacts, he set about the job of forming such a group that he designated Task Force X.

 

They gathered in a small room deep in the bowels of the nest of tunnels and passageways that made up the Washington Metro. Cal Dixon had learned about the existence of the room from a friend who owned one of the construction companies that routinely performed maintenance on the Metro. That woman, Marguerite Simpson, known as Megs to people close to her, was the first person he reached out to. She had served in the intelligence community out of college and took over her father’s construction company when she was in her mid-thirties and grown it tenfold into the thriving business it was today. Megs accepted Cal’s offer without asking any questions. It was enough for her that he had asked her for help. She would serve as his surrogate leader of Task Force X.

The room was dimly lit but it was enough for their purposes.

Cal Dixon sat at the head of the table with Megs to his right.

“Thank you all for coming. The task before us is daunting, and it’s one that needs to be run off book. I’ve chosen all of you because your loyalty and trust are without question and your abilities are second to none.” No one smiled. They knew themselves well. Accomplishing objectives was their focus. “We need to move quickly and quietly.”

He passed out a single page briefing that each person read and committed to memory. At the bottom of each person’s customized page was a task to be performed.

“After you digest the situation and the task I need you to perform, pass the paper back to me for destruction.”

After everyone had thoroughly studied the material, the papers were back in his hands. He would destroy them later.

“Megs will coordinate with each of you. We’ll meet back here whenever I pass you the word through Megs.” He waited, looking at each person in turn, individually. “Your country thanks you for your willingness to help in this hour of great need.”

He stood and left. The others followed dispersing through different passageways that had been pre-prescribed for entry and exit.

Will awoke to the noise of Alvin preparing some breakfast for them. Looking out at Niagara Falls, it was just as majestic as it was when he had fallen asleep.  Watching Slim’s lights aglow, and Alvin busying himself with small tasks was an interesting juxtaposition.

“Coffee?” Alvin asked.

“Please,” Will said as he yawned and stretched.

“These are strange times but a good cup of hot coffee helps,” Alvin said.

“Thanks.” Will nursed a few sips. “I’ve been thinking all night, and I just want to confirm that I’m in. I’ll take care of Slim. I can do it.” There, he’d said what he fell asleep thinking last night.

Alvin sat across from him at the small dining table, looking at him as though he could read his mind. “I’m glad. No herculean feats are required, just keep Slim a secret and keep Slim safe. Eventually you will need to have people you can trust in your life that you can share with Slim, but that’s for later, if it comes to be at all. Let’s head to your home, we have a little cleanup to do.”

 

The government was desperately looking for the terrorist Dr. Alvin Grace and his face had been spread over conventional and digital media. Anyone with knowledge of him was asked to call the FBI.

Will walked into the Museum Shack and was pulled off to the side by the hostess. In a hushed voice, she said, “I’ve been hoping to see you. That man that you were with the other day looked like that Dr. Grace the FBI is looking for.

Will was ready for her. He appeared confused. “When?”

“The last time you were here!” she said in an anxious whisper.

“Owen Jeffries?” Will acted astounded.

“Yes, Jeffries was his name. Look!” She directed Will’s attention to the TV over the bar that was showing a full screen of Alvin’s face.

Will pulled out his phone and pulled up a photo of Alvin and him at the Liberty Bell that Slim had heavily doctored. He enlarged the picture of Alvin and showed it to her.

She didn’t need to study it for very long. “Yeah, it’s not him. God, I’m so paranoid. This manhunt is nationwide. My friend in San Francisco said the media is relentless, just like here.”

“I’m freaked out, too. Wait a minute … what do you think I’d be doing with a terrorist?” Will laughed.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I’m an idiot.” She shook her head and pointed him towards a table, leaving him to greet the next customer.

Alvin and Will had discussed the hostess as a possible issue. They had Slim alter the security footage at the restaurant with the revised image of Owen Jeffries and produce a photo for Will’s phone. She bought it completely. They were safe, for now.

 

In the ensuing weeks Alvin taught Will about Slim’s current capabilities and those that Slim was developing. Will became more and more comfortable working with Slim, almost second nature to him as he entered a new world that he would never leave. Every waking moment spent outside of his business time was devoted to Alvin and Slim.

“Where is the technology you were to get a copy of?” Black Jack demanded.

“We are searching for Dr. Grace. There is a nationwide manhunt, the likes of which we have never seen before.”

“I know that. I watch the news. Where is the work that is being done by the rest of the scientific team that Grace left behind?” Black Jack was fuming.

His caller knew that when he got that way, people that were perceived as troublesome were never heard from again. “The team that he left behind has not been able to duplicate his work … yet. They are working day and night to produce it. The president has made it a priority–”

“Silence!”

Jack considered the caller’s message. Although he hated politicians, if the president used the force of his office to get something done then that was probably good enough, for the moment. He calmed himself.

“Get back to me in twenty-four hours.” He terminated the call and placed another.

“What’s happening in the Delaware Valley?” Jack inquired.

“We are searching for a contact, but, as I said during our last call, Grace has no verifiable connection to the Delaware Valley–no family, friends or colleagues. We’ve scoured his phone calls and emails, going back years. Following your suggestion, we started looking for people that might stand out. Our sources have compiled a list of people that have had big changes during the last year in their lives, like promotions, firings, established new businesses, or received large infusions into their bank accounts. Our initial list was over nine thousand but we whittled it down to just over four hundred. We have teams of people out interviewing them now under the auspices of a wide variety of reasons.”

“That sounds logical. I hope it bears some fruit.”

“Jack, we all want this, and we are doing everything we can to find Grace.”

“I know you are. I just have difficulty waiting. I’m fearful that he is slipping through the cracks.

“We have no choice but to stay the course. I’ll contact you if we find anything.”

“Very well.” Jack terminated the call and walked back into the formal ballroom.

Will decided that he needed a small office that was well-located to transportation and easy for his clients to get to. He decided to stay in Philadelphia, lease space in the Old City area, and move to an apartment nearby. He spent the next few weeks taking care of the move and finally settled in.

The sun was warm as he walked into the office building on Chestnut Street. He entered the small office of Parnell & Associates. He had a part time bookkeeper, Anna, who also answered the phone when she could intercept it before the fifth ring when it was routed to the answering service.

  

Anna looked up and smiled. “You had a call this morning from the Brodsky team, as usual and a woman from a research firm doing an analysis on new businesses.” She handed the messages to him.

“I’ll give them all a callback this morning.”

He went to his desk and looked at his emails as he enjoyed a cup of coffee. Eventually, he got around to calling the woman from the research firm.

“This is Will Parnell returning a call from Bea Griffin.”

The call was transferred.

“Mr. Parnell, thank you for returning my call. I’m doing an analysis of basic data on new businesses in the Delaware Valley on a no names basis. I was wondering if I could visit with you briefly. Maybe this afternoon? I guarantee it will be painless.”

“Sure. Let’s do it at two.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

 

He had just returned from the bathroom when Anna let him know that his two o’clock had arrived.

He met her in his small conference room that had a simple table and six plain chairs. “I’m Will Parnell. Pleased to meet you.”

“Bea Griffen,” she said as she shook his hand and took a seat, pulling out a pen and small spiral notebook.

“How can I help you?” He smiled.

“First, let me thank you for seeing me. I really appreciate it. I know these kinds of things can be a pain.” She let out a soft giggle. “I’m working on an analysis of new businesses in the Delaware Valley that will be used to secure grant funding for all kinds of endeavors.”

“How can I help?” Will asked.

“Let me ask you, what led you to form Parnell & Associates, LLC?”

Will laughed. She had an easy way about her, and it made him comfortable. “I was working my ass off and getting nowhere. My wife, make that ex-wife, left me, and I realized that I wanted more than my job could give me, so I ended up forming my own business–taking control of my life, I suppose.”

She smiled. “Wow. That is motivation. Do you think you are happier?”

He thought about her question. “I don’t know, but I think that I will be, no matter what happens with everything.”

She hesitated. “Everything?”

He became slightly uncomfortable. “No matter what happens to me … my business.”

They talked some more, and she continued to probe him, but to no avail. Eventually, she finished her interview, thanked him, and left.

Once she was several blocks away she dialed her boss. “Will Parnell warrants a closer look.”

“Talk to me,” he said.

“I just felt something. It could be nothing, but he’s hiding something. I’m sure of it.”

“Okay. I’ll add him to the list. You send me your report, and I’ll have the observation team take it from here, immediately.”

“Will do. I’ll write it up and send it to you within the hour and head to my next appointment.”

 

Will called Anna into his office. “I want you to check her out.” He handed Bea Griffin’s card to her.

She squirmed a bit. “I sort of already did.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I was concerned about someone coming in here to talk with you about … well … personal decisions, so I contacted her place of business just to confirm the appointment.”

“And?”

“Something didn’t seem right. I asked a friend of mine from a Midwest phone company to check it out. She did. It’s a call center that handles government contracts.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” he asked.

“Maybe not, but maybe,” she said.

“What’s that mean?” Will was now getting nervous.

“My friend said that she was blocked from making any inquiry about this company. A colleague told her unofficially that the company has ties to NSA as in the National Security Agency.”

Will felt a tingling all over. “Well, let’s be careful, but I’m sure everything is okay.”

Anna chuckled, “Of course it is. I mean … you’re an upstanding accountant and lawyer.”

“Right.” Will forced a small laugh.

She went back to her desk, and Will decided to wrap up what he had been working on and leave early. He needed to talk with Alvin. Something was wrong, very wrong.

As he walked up Chestnut Street towards City Hall, he felt that he was being watched. He decided to take a cab trip in a circuitous route and get dropped off blocks from his apartment.

I’m being paranoid, he told himself. Nevertheless, he looked behind him sporadically as he directed the driver into south Philly and back to Society Hill where he got out on Front Street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

The people watching him were doing so via satellite at NSA.

“Parnell just took a silly trip to south Philly and back to within five blocks of his new apartment. It looks like he’s going there now,” said the analyst assigned to follow and research him.

His supervisor watched the feed over his shoulder. “That is strange. Get a team on the ground to watch him. I want his cell, conversations in his apartment, everything,” she said.

“I’ll dispatch a team right away,” the analyst said.

 

Reed Logan’s firm received the job to do field research on Will Parnell. Logan had a full complement of operatives and support already in the Delaware Valley. They went to work.

Slim’s development had more than met Alvin’s expectations. The capabilities were increasing by the day, and they were in capable hands–Will Parnell’s hands. Alvin was satisfied that Will had progressed to the point where he could continue alone. Will had been the right choice. A fast learner and dedicated, Alvin couldn’t have been more pleased. His plan was on schedule and now he needed to leave, it was time.

The government or one of their contractors had been watching Will so they had developed a precise protocol for meeting. Today would be their final one.

Alvin traveled with ease in stealth mirror mode twenty feet above the nighttime traffic in Cape May. His destination was five hundred yards off the beach over the Atlantic.

He entered the RV and greeted Will.

“Well, I’m glad you avoided all of your fans that are watching you now.”

“They get better and better at it. I’ll go dormant for a while which should, hopefully, satisfy them and send them home,” Will said.

Alvin considered Will’s situation and the status of the government’s relentless search. “I think you should assume that they are always going to be watching. They may never give up the hunt for Slim. Don’t give them any reason to suspect that you are connected. If you do then your life will be like mine, and I don’t want that for you.”

Will nodded his head as they got underway for their island destination off the coast of Maine. Alvin had chosen it as his final resting place. He would have his final nano-cocktail that Slim had prepared when the sun set tomorrow, and as he peacefully and gently drifted away, his remains would disappear as the special ingredient in the cocktail took effect.

Will had just crossed the border from Maryland into West Virginia. The storage facility that Alvin had told him to go to was within an hour’s drive. He planned to enjoy it.

Alvin wanted him to get a duplicate documentation of Slim’s design–the only one. It was Alvin’s back up plan should he have had to destroy Slim to keep it from getting into Larkin’s hands. The documentation would have allowed him to rebuild it efficiently rather than starting from scratch. Alvin had written the documentation in a secret code but codes can be broken, and he did not want to take the risk. So, the plan was for Will to retrieve it and destroy it.

The rolling countryside was beautiful, and Will wasn’t paying any attention to his speed when he noticed the blinking lights and siren of a West Virginia state trooper behind him.

Shit, he muttered to himself as he continued driving on the curving road.

He realized that getting stopped could pose a problem, and he made a quick judgment to go into stealth mirror mode as he rounded the next curve. Once he was invisible, he pulled over as the police cruiser flew passed him.

Officer Gridley was surprised that he hadn’t overtaken the speeding motorist. He radioed dispatch and another trooper entered the same road two miles ahead coming the other way. With no turnoffs or intersections with other roads they would have this yahoo soon.

As the officers came into view of each other they pulled off to the side of the road and talked to each other with their windows down.

“Son of a bitch disappeared,” Gridley said.

“How you gonna’ report that in?” the other officer asked.

Gridley thought and then said, “I’m simply going to tell the truth.”

“Good luck with that.” The other officer laughed as he drove away.

Gridley reported that he had been in pursuit of a vehicle doing seventy in a fifty, but it eluded him. It just disappeared.

“Come again?”

Gridley repeated himself.

For clarification, the dispatcher repeated what she heard. “So, Officer Gridley, the vehicle just disappeared?”

“Yes.”

“I think we’ll just conclude that it got away from you. Stay with ’em cowboy.” She laughed as she signed off.

 

The analyst at NSA called his boss. “We have a West Virginia state trooper reporting a vehicle that disappeared.”

“Did he identify the vehicle?” the boss asked.

“No sir. They’re writing it off.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Within minutes after the call from Larkin, Reed Logan was on a chopper to West Virginia.

He landed adjacent to the West Virginia State Police Barracks near Berkeley Springs. Officer Gridley met him in the conference room.

“Thank you Officer Gridley for waiting for me,” Logan said as he shook Gridley’s hand.

“No problem.” Gridley was anxious and uncomfortable. His comment that a vehicle had disappeared had gotten attention that he couldn’t understand and didn’t want to.

“Tell me exactly what you saw.”

“I was looking at my instruments and the vehicle passed my station at seventy in a fifty. I pulled out and got a quick look as it followed a bend in the road and left my sight. I radioed dispatch that I was in pursuit and another officer came at the vehicle from the other direction. There are no side roads or intersections in that stretch of road. The other officer and I met up in little more than a minute. There was no vehicle in sight.”

“What can you tell me about it?”

Gridley didn’t have much, and he felt stupid. “I only saw it briefly from behind as it left my line of sight going around the bend. It was a small car. It was a dark color, I couldn’t really tell.”

“It wasn’t silver.”

“No,” Gridley answered.

“Could it have been a PT Cruiser?” Logan asked, even though he knew he was grasping at air.

“I really couldn’t tell, but I can’t say that it wasn’t.”

Logan was at least pleased with the non-answer rather than a flat no. “Thank you Officer Gridley.” He turned and left. There was a lot of work to do.

 

Will pulled away slowly over the treetops as he watched the two policemen converge. He could hear the report to the dispatcher, and he was relieved that the officer didn’t get his license plate and couldn’t describe the vehicle. He was also glad that he had Slim change the color from silver to dark blue as a precaution. Slim was racing through the network of surveillance and either erasing the vehicle or generally corrupting the data.

I’ve got to be more careful. Jesus!, Will chastised himself.

He touched down inside the perimeter fence of the mini-storage facility and had slim disable the security cameras while he retrieved the box with the manuals that Alvin had prepared. In short order, he was on his way back to Philadelphia.

 

Where is Parnell?” Logan asked the surveillance team.

“He’s in his apartment,” his agent answered.

“What about his car?” Logan thought it was worth a shot.

“I don’t know but we’ll look.”

They pinged the tracker that they put on the car, which Slim picked up immediately.

“Will Parnell. They are trying to locate the PT Cruiser,” Slim reported.

“Put the PT Cruiser at a dealership north of the city and insert an order into their system to change the oil and rotate the tires. Get us there so we can deposit it on their lot as fast as possible.”

Logan received a report that the car was at a dealership. Something still wasn’t right about Parnell, he just felt it in his bones

Will managed to get home using the stealth mirror mode and simple flight application that propelled him like Superman. He put down on his balcony that was camouflaged by trees and plants. Slim’s nanobots opened the lock on the sliding doors, and Will slipped inside.

After reviewing the monitors that Slim set up it was clear that a team of four people were watching him. There was no end to this pursuit.

The weight of Slim, all of Dr. Alvin Grace’s work, and keeping it out of the wrong hands was on Will’s shoulders. He needed time to ward off his pursuers. Should he lay low for a while, take care of his business and satisfy his watchers that he was a boring accountant?

Suddenly, his phone rang. It was the front desk.

“Mr. Parnell, I’m sorry to disturb you but there is a gentleman and a lady who would like to see you.”

Will saw them on his computer screen from one of the nano-cameras that Slim had set up.

“I only accept scheduled appointments, and only at my office. If they have some sales materials, they can leave it with you.

“Very well, sir.”

Will watched as the doorman and security saw them out.

Who are these people? How many are there? The questions were crawling through his mind as he tried to rest in his living room.

Maybe it’s time that Slim and I looked at these people and learned a little bit about them. I guess if they can come into my house then I can go into theirs–General Larkin and whoever else is after Slim.

Will left his apartment in full knowledge that a fresh team of four was watching him. He ignored them as he walked to his office. Once inside he gathered some papers and announced to his assistant that he’d be heading out to run a few errands and meet some potential clients. After that, he said that he was planning a much-needed getaway to someplace off the beaten path. He wanted a trail that would lead his pursuers nowhere.

He caught the subway at Fifth Street and took it to City Hall. Once in the crowd he followed the main corridors and then branched off to some less traveled corridors and entered stealth mirror mode when he was certain that he was alone.

He elevated himself several feet above the tallest of humans and waited. Sure enough, two of the watchers were coming from behind him. He followed at a safe distance and overheard one of them speaking into her communication device.

“We’ve lost the target.”

The target, he thought to himself. It’s time to learn who you are.

Carefully he floated out of the subway system and headed to the RV storage lot in Chester County. It was time to take action.

Once he maneuvered the RV with the Jeep trailered behind it out of the lot, he followed Slim’s directions to a remote location where it was safe to enter stealth-mirror mode. He elevated to three hundred feet and began the pursuit of information about the pursuers.

“Slim, find out information about General Benjamin Larkin. He is hunting for Slim, and Will Parnell needs to know who is helping him.”

Slim went to work invading everything to do with Larkin.

Meanwhile, Will guided the RV into the airspace near the Pentagon, near Larkin’s place of business.

After a short while, Slim was ready with some information. “General Larkin has a relationship with a contractor named Reed Logan. Logan’s company has been hired to track Will Parnell, and the objective is for Will Parnell to lead them to Slim. General Larkin has thirty-eight people being followed. They are frustrated that they can’t find Dr. Grace, and they can’t find Slim. General Larkin is worried because the president is pushing to understand that the country is safe and the General is unable to convey that Slim is not dangerous. He believes that he must control Slim.”

Will listened intently as Slim went on to detail information that was collected from phone records, emails and secret recording devices throughout the Pentagon, the White House and NSA. Slim found others, many were looking for Slim, but they weren’t connected to Larkin, at least directly. They were trying to stay off the grid. They all were searching in earnest, but they were spinning their wheels. They wouldn’t stop unless they had a reason to. Will decided that it was time to give them something to focus on that would get them out of Philadelphia at the very least.

“Slim, identify the people that are involved and develop a secure way for Will Parnell to contact them and eliminate any way for the communication to be tracked.”

Before long, Slim produced a report with names, phone numbers, background and a statement about the interrelationship among the people that were hunting Slim.

Will studied it.

Holy shit! he said to himself.

As White House Chief of Staff, Cal Dixon was always busy with never a free moment. Yet he managed to slip away to join Task Force X for a late-night meeting to follow up on their progress. The meetings were always scheduled quickly around Dixon’s availability.

He walked into the non-descript room in the bowels of the Washington Metro system. Marguerite Simpson, Megs, was already there with the assembled group.

He sat at the head of the table and looked at Megs. “What do you have?”

“Not much I’m afraid. We–”

Her phone buzzed loudly, which startled her because she was sure she had turned it off as she entered the room. She looked at the screen and saw the caller ID–Unknown.

Who the hell is this? she thought.

“Expecting someone?” Dixon snapped with an edge to his voice, clearly irritated. “I disassembled my phone, which is in my briefcase in the corner of the room.”

“Absolutely not,” she responded quickly. “I know I turned this off on the way in here.”

“I saw you do that,” said one of the people in the room.

“Are you going to answer it?” Dixon prodded.

Hesitantly, she spoke to her caller, “Yes.”

The voice was disguised with a mechanical robot-like sound. “Please put Chief of Staff Dixon on the phone.”

With her eyes wide, Megs looked at Dixon. “It’s for you.” She handed him the phone.

He looked around the room. Everyone was unnerved. “Cal Dixon. Who is this?” he demanded.

“I’m the one that you are looking for Mr. Dixon.”

Dixon’s jaw fell and his mouth hung open. Moments later he gathered himself and said, “How do I know that?”

“Put me on the speaker.”

“Turn on the speaker,” he said to Megs. She did and put it in front of Dixon.

”Go ahead,” Dixon said. Everyone leaned in towards the phone in front of Dixon on the conference room table.

“Dr. Alvin Grace created an artificial intelligence that he named Slim. The capabilities of this technology are almost beyond comprehension. General Benjamin Larkin demanded that Dr. Grace submit Slim to be weaponized. When he resisted, he was poisoned with neurotoxin XF–18, presumably at the direction of Larkin. For those of you who don’t know about the poison, it strikes precisely in ninety days after it is administered. Thus, Dr. Grace is no longer with us. However, I am here, and I am the caretaker of Slim.”

There were shocked looks on everyone’s face including Dixon’s.

Will broke the silence and continued. “From what I can tell, none of you have any knowledge of the facts I just recited. A decision was made to communicate with Task Force X instead of the Situation Room in the White House, because there are people who can’t be trusted in that room, like Larkin.”

“We have all of Dr. Grace’s work, so it’s only a matter of time until we reconstruct it.”

“You don’t. Dr. Grace planted the information, and it will never allow you to reconstruct Slim.”

Dixon felt a tightening in his gut. He had been afraid of that. He looked at Megs and passed her a note.

He knows about Task Force X?

She nodded and shrugged to convey her surprise and helpless feeling.

“The nation has nothing to fear from Slim. I couldn’t say that if it fell into someone else’s control.”

Dixon was extremely anxious. “What are you saying?”

“There are bad people trying to acquire Slim so they can turn it into a weapon.”

Dixon thought for a moment. “You’re talking about Larkin.”

“Certainly, he is a problem. But, there is an effort from the underworld that’s every bit … as enthusiastic as you are to acquire Slim, and their motivations are not in the best interest of the United States.”

Dixon looked around the table. “Do you know who is leading this?”

“Yes. A man they call Black Jack. He is connected to the underworld.”

Dixon cringed. Only very few people knew that name, a name that was often dismissed as a myth.

“Why are you contacting me?”

“That’s an excellent question Mr. Dixon. I want to build trust with you and be of help, if needed.”

Dixon was flabbergasted. “What should I call you?”

There was silence.

“Are you still there?” Dixon asked.

“Yes. You can call me Game Changer.”

“Game Changer, I need to speak to the president. How can I contact you?”

“You can’t”. If you need me, we’ll find a protocol that works. For now, I will contact you tomorrow at midnight.”

“But how will you know … never mind. Midnight it is.” Dixon couldn’t believe the interplay with Game Changer. He had to find the connection to this Black Jack. For some time he had felt something was very wrong. Now he knew his concerns were justified.