Chasing Ghosts (16 page)

“
Maybe he picked up the wrong
briefcase. After all, he reached down without looking,” Skizzy
explained.

“
That’s weak, even for you, Skizzy.
Once the cardinal got on the plane and opened his briefcase, he
would know he had the wrong one.”

“
Maybe that was his plan…to switch
briefcases,” Skizzy argued.

Dagger wasn’t convinced. “Zoom in on that guy
again.” From a side view it was clear the man was wearing
sunglasses. His hair was cut short, though not military short. The
suit looked expensive but the man had been careful to appear
casually dressed, withholding a tie and keeping the shirt open at
the collar. “Does he have a scar?”

“
Nope. Already checked
that.”

Dagger looked for birthmarks, nervous ticks,
but didn’t see anything that would help him remember the man should
he run into him in the future. As the man walked back to his seat,
Dagger noticed a slight limp.

“
Keep digging, Skizzy.”

“
Damn slave driver,” Skizzy
mumbled.

“
Either way,” Dagger said, “something
important must have been on that flash drive, enough to die for.
Any of the cameras pick up the guy’s face?”

“
Not yet. I tried to see what flight
he’s taking so I can zero in on those cameras.”

“
How about the camera over that woman’s
shoulder? Maybe you can zoom in on the passenger list.”

“
Tried that.” Skizzy pounded on the
keys. “His name is J. Smith. Fat chance it’s his real name. But he
wasn’t taking a commercial carrier. He’s sailing on a private
jet.”

“
Get a tail number,” Dagger
said.

Sara leaned back to get a look at the man on
the screen. “He’s not the one who was in the cardinal’s hotel room.
He’s too tall.”

Skizzy’s eyebrow jerked up. “And how would
girlie know that?”

Dagger jumped in. “Camera from the cardinal’s
room.”

Skizzy’s other eyebrow narrowed giving his
face a comical look. “Paper said there weren’t no cameras on the
floor or in the room.”

Dagger dragged a hand across his five o’clock
shadow and winced when he touched his bruised cheek. “Martinez
doesn’t tell the reporters everything.” He turned his attention
back to the monitor in hopes of changing the subject. “Padre
confirmed the guy at the hotel had the same DNA and prints as the
guy you dumped in the quarry.”

Skizzy’s hands hovered over the keyboard,
then dropped to his lap. “Wait a minute.” His eyes widened, growing
in size like two alien orbs. “I was right! He’s a clone. Didn’t I
tell you?”

“
Twins also have the same DNA, Skizzy,
so don’t start popping pills yet. Just keep on this other guy and
see if we can I.D. him and the private plane.”

“
Yeah yeah. It’s going to take me
awhile.This facial recognition software I stole isn’t as quick as
you see on television.”

“
Skizzy, can you solder this back
together?” Sara held up the black cord necklace. “I think if we
keep using the metal clasps it’s only going to break
again.”

“
Let me see.” Skizzy took a seat at the
work table and examined the multiple strands of wire under the
leather wrap. “Yeah, but it might be best just to solder the thing
onto Dagger then wrap the cord around it. That way he won’t lose
it.”

Sara picked up what looked like a small pen
light and pushed a button. Nothing happened. “What is this?”

“
Detects bugs.”

“
Thought you already have one of those
that checks to see if someone planted a bug in your store,” Sara
said.

“
Not for the store.” Skizzy grinned, a
self-satisfied smile that lit up his face. He plucked a round metal
item from the top drawer and set it on the table. “Point it at
that.”

Sara pointed it and pressed the button. A
loud buzzing and whine was emitted from the instrument.

“
That’s the tracking chip that was in
that guy’s head, that Demko guy we tossed into the quarry,” Skizzy
said.

“
What are you going to do, scan
everyone you meet?” Sara said with a laugh. She pointed the
instrument at Skizzy and ran it slowly down his frame.

“
If I have to. Gotta know who you’re
dealing with. Gotta know who’s working for The Man.”

Sara turned and pointed the instrument at
Dagger, running it from his ankles up to his head. When she pointed
it at his neck, the buzzing and whine was loud and persistent. Sara
was too shocked to move the instrument as it kept buzzing. Dagger
was too shocked to pull the thing from her grasp.

Skizzy bolted from the chair, stumbled back,
and fumbled in one of the drawers for a gun. He raised a shaky arm
at Dagger, the gun pointed at Dagger’s chest.

Stunned, Sara pulled the instrument away and
stepped in front of Dagger. “Skizzy, stop.”

“
Move away from the enemy, girlie.” He
clamped his left hand on his right to keep the gun from
shaking.

“
You know Dagger. You know there has to
be an explanation. There must be a malfunction.”

“
Quit hiding behind a skirt, you
sonofabitch.”

“
Sara.” Dagger placed his hands on her
forearms and tried to move her aside.

“
No!”

Dagger thought Sara was taking this
protection thing way too seriously. “Skizzy, put the gun away and
let’s think this through. It’s possible it isn’t working right. Why
and when would I ever get a chip implanted?”

“
Maybe in the military. I don’t know.”
Skizzy’s eyes welled up and his hands shook so hard Dagger was sure
he would drop the gun.

“
STAND DOWN, SOLDIER!” Dagger shouted.
Something changed in Skizzy’s eyes. He snapped to attention and
dropped the gun to his side. “RELINQUISH YOUR SIDEARM.” Dagger
nudged Sara and whispered, “Get the gun.”

Sara cautiously approached and pulled the gun
from Skizzy’s hands.

“
AT EASE, SOLDIER.”

Skizzy stepped to one side and clasped his
hands behind his back.

Dagger eyed all the guns on the wall. Every
one of them, he was sure, was loaded. His hand instinctively went
to his neck.

“
Let me look,” Sara said as she shoved
Dagger onto a chair. “Skizzy, do you have a flashlight down
here?”

Skizzy blinked several times as though
awaking from a nap. “Next to the can of pencils.”

Sara grabbed the flashlight and snapped it
on. She moved Dagger’s collar length hair aside and shined the
light. There was a scar starting just above the hairline at the
base of his neck and running at least two inches long.

“
Oh my God,” she whispered, wrapping
her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead against the back
of his head. “It’s there, Dagger. A scar, almost identical to the
one Demko had.”

CHAPTER 20

Dagger felt a cold chill race through his
body. This couldn’t be right. “I need two mirrors. I have to see
for myself.”

“
Skizzy.” Sara looked at the squirrely
guy. He wasn’t moving, or even blinking. Just frozen in place mouth
breathing. “Skizzy, someone did this to him. We have to
help.”

This snapped Skizzy out of his trance.
“Mirrors, yeah, I’ve got some.” He produced two hand-held mirrors.
Skizzy held one behind Dagger’s neck while Sara pulled Dagger’s
hair to one side. Dagger held the other mirror and turned it to see
the reflection in Skizzy’s mirror.

Sara was right. It resembled Demko’s. Anger
swelled. Who the hell did this? He saw Sara’s reflection in the
mirror. Silent tears were streaming down her face.

“
Are you going to die?” she
whispered.

“
Better question is, why hasn’t he died
yet?” Skizzy whispered back. “When’s the last time you were in the
hospital?”

“
Haven’t been.”

“
Prison?”

“
No.”

“
Military?”

“
I…” Dagger knew he went through
Special Ops training and Navy Seals, but when? “I would have
known.”

“
Right. Put you to sleep and you don’t
know what the hell they are doing.”

Dagger could picture his field training,
parachute jumping, reconnaissance. But why couldn’t he place a
timeline on any of it? He clawed the back of his neck, trying to
feel what was under the skin. “I have to get this out.”

“
Not here you ain’t.”

Dagger pulled out his cell phone and scanned
through the numbers. He punched the one he was looking for. They
emerged from the bunker and waited for Doc Akins in the back room
of the pawn shop. Very few people knew about the bunker downstairs
and Skizzy wanted to keep it that way.

Twenty minutes later a tall man with
silver-streaked hair entered the pawn shop. One could have easily
mistaken him as a college professor with his wire-rimmed glasses
and preppy attire. He placed his black bag on the kitchen table and
opened it. “Going to give me a little background info? Not
necessary, but might help.”

“
Yeah, especially if you don’t want to
blow up,” Skizzy snarled.

“
What?” Doc’s wire-rimmed glasses
almost popped off his nose when he turned his head. The streaked
hair gave him an older, more distinguished look than his thirty
plus years. His lanky body towered over Skizzy.

“
Don’t listen to him,” Dagger said. He
gave him an abbreviated version of Skizzy’s paranoia and the
detector Skizzy had invented that discovered something in Dagger’s
neck.

“
Would have been easier if I could have
just X-rayed you at the office,” Doc said.

“
I’m not sure what an X-ray would have
done to it.” Besides, he wasn’t too keen on stepping outside. What
if someone were able to track him? But again, why hadn’t they by
now or were they just keeping track of his whereabouts and waiting
for… what?

Doc jammed a needle into a vial. “Let’s
freeze this first and then we’ll open you up.”

Dagger felt a sting in the back of his neck.
Thoughts of Demko floated through his head so he tried to shove
those aside. “How are the cats and dogs?”

“
Doing good. Have a lot of animals up
for adoption if you want to add any to your house.” Doc Akins’
medical license had been suspended when he had admitted to giving
marijuana to cancer patients to ease their nausea during chemo
treatments. He decided to change to a veterinary practice. He also
taught part- time at the local college.

“
It would be nice to have a kitten,”
Sara said.

“
Kittens grow up to be cats,” Dagger
replied. “Although it would be a nice snack for
Einstein.”

Skizzy laughed at that, a nervous laugh but
at least the nutty guy wasn’t spouting off about Dagger blowing up
in his pawn shop.

Doc was cautious when making his incision.
Dagger didn’t feel anything but saw Sara and Skizzy edge closer as
though curious exactly what was in his neck.

“
Just dab the gauze to keep the blood
flow down so I can see what we’ve got,” Doc told Sara.

Dagger could feel something touching his neck
and unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists. What if
whatever Doc was doing triggered something? His mind raced again,
trying to figure out when a chip had been planted. He had never
been in a hospital, that he knew of. Skizzy had created such an
elaborate background on Dagger that even Dagger wasn’t sure where
the truth started and the lies ended. How could this have
happened?

“
Well, well,” Doc said.

“
What is it?” Sara asked.

“
No flashing numbers on it. Not like
that other guy’s that had a timer,” Skizzy added.

“
What other guy?”

Dagger winced. He was hoping not to get into
the details of Demko. Skizzy was usually tightlipped around people
outside of his small circle. Given the unusual circumstances of
Demko’s death, Skizzy suddenly acquired diarrhea of the mouth.

Doc’s scalpel hovered as Skizzy got into the
details of the timer, how Demko exploded and a portion of the chip
and timer separated from the body. Skizzy pulled Demko’s tracking
chip from his pocket and showed it to Doc.

“
Doesn’t resemble this one at all. This
one is long and narrow, like a fuse for your car lights,” Doc said.
“Matter of fact…what on earth?”

“
What?” Dagger tensed. He saw Sara and
Skizzy move even closer. “What is it?”

“
The damn thing is connected to your
brain stem somehow. A researcher friend of mine read where they can
insert a computer chip into a petri dish of neurons and it just
adheres, they become part of it. Then it gets inserted into the
brain.”

“
I knew it!” Skizzy shouted. “Told you
they can do this.”

Doc straightened. A look of concern clouding
his face. “Except he read it in Future Science magazine. The
article was on genetically engineered soldiers.”

You could have cut the silence with a knife.
Sara slowly sank onto a kitchen chair. Skizzy wrapped his arms
around his chest as though artificially cocooning himself from his
surroundings.

Dagger tensed even more. His dark eyes
appeared darker with the irises turning as black as the pupils.
“It’s impossible. I haven’t been to a hospital much less a doctor’s
office.”

“
The bizarre thing about this,” Doc
said, “is that there is a lot of scar tissue here. This chip has
been in your head for at least twenty-five years.”