Enemy In the Room (29 page)

The general received a note from an aide off
camera. “The short-range test missiles are inbound,” he read, and
turned to look out across the valley. As the view shifted on the
screen, he spoke. “The targets are the two red cars being driven by
remote control. They were illuminated and tagged twenty minutes
ago. The eight blue and green cars are simulating conditions on an
urban avenue, as you have directed us. They have been running in
parallel with the red cars since they were illuminated. We’ve
marked ‘intersections’ in the valley, and the controllers are
stopping the cars at each one as they might in the real world,
alternating speeds but staying in the general vicinity of the
targets.”

Mustafin and Kamali could clearly see the
automobiles proceeding along the wide valley, now green with spring
grass. North’s voice said, “We should have contact any second now.
We didn’t arm them with explosives because…”

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, one of the red
targets was demolished by an incoming missile. A split second later
the second missile hit a blue car, two hundred yards ahead of its
actual target. The general slapped his hands together and cursed in
Russian. “They were together two intersections ago, but number
seven pulled away more quickly, and the motion fooled the satellite
tracker.”

There was silence for a few moments while
the camera focused in on the smashed blue car. North quietly asked,
“Is there a solution?”

As the camera panned back to take in the two
figures on the edge of the bluff, General Beleborodov turned to
face his new anonymous owners. “To hit that kind of target it will
take more than passive reflection of energy from a satellite. We’ll
need an active tracking device in or on the car.”

“What do you mean?” Mustafin asked.

“I mean some type of GPS repeater. It can be
small. Like they use in America to track criminals’ locations. Any
transponder code that we can feed into the computer to discern the
true target in a sea of lookalikes.”

“OK. Understood.”

“We will work on this end,” North responded.
“And if our new owners have input, I think that we will quickly
find a solution.”

“Mr. Knox, it’s Victor.”

Knox was just strapping into his special
seat at the control center in his jet when Mustafin called him on
the secure videophone. It was that same afternoon, and the jet was
taxiing out to take off for a trip to Los Angeles, where Knox had
meetings with two of the last adult entertainment owners holding
out against his purchase offers. With the passage of President
Harper’s reform law, the time was right to make them a new, lower
offer. Knox had good reason to expect, given the level of funding
from USNet’s coffers, that the new laws would be tied up in court
for years. So it made sense to pressure other, less informed
owners.

As the jet began to roll, Knox answered his
lieutenant’s call on the monitor built above the custom-paneled
control desk.

“Hello, Victor. It may be noisy for a
bit.”

“That’s all right. This should be short.
We’ve seen several messages that imply that President Harper’s
summer trip to Moscow is definitely on. And it appears that it will
be around July 4th.”

“The Fourth of July in Moscow?”

Mustafin nodded. “Yes, sir. There’s a huge
celebration every year at one of the old pre-Revolutionary estates.
It centers around the U.S. business community over there, but it
includes everyone who wants to come. The weather is usually good,
and it stays light until late—it’s a big deal.”

“So it might be kind of historic for an
American President to celebrate the Fourth of July in Moscow,
particularly with a Russian President who is so committed to the
same throw-back policies.”

“Yes, that seems to be what they’re
planning.”

“OK. How are our plans coming together to
rid ourselves of this President? Will we be ready by then?”

“We’re close. Akbar and I saw a test earlier
today. We need to refine the targeting for a moving car, but we
think we have a solution. Give us another few days.”

“Victor, this
has
to work. And think
how great it would be if we could eliminate both the American and
Russian Presidents at the same time! Europe’s economy is shambles,
and China is on the verge of a meltdown. Only the US and
Russia—besides the Zionists—can oppose us. To take out both of
their leaders at once would be a great stroke. I’ll talk with Paul
Burke tomorrow about our public plans. As soon as you’re confident
that it will work, I’ll put out the bait.”

“Yes, sir. Have a good trip to L.A.”

“Thank you. This sounds promising. You know
how to reach me.”

As the plane leveled off, Knox opened a
briefing book on the last competitors left in the adult
entertainment industry. He silently thanked President Harper for
making his upcoming purchases less expensive.

It was long after midnight in Tehran, and
Omid was in his chair looking out at the lights from their
sixth-floor apartment. The television was on, but muted. He still
had bandages on his head and hands, applied by a friendly doctor.
He had been afraid to go to a hospital after the Democracy March on
Monday.

But it was not the pain from the wounds that
kept him awake. He had not seen Goli since Tuesday afternoon, when
she had left their office to buy some printer paper. Nothing. No
trace. No cell phone call. No answer to his calls. Nothing.

Their friend Ramin had also disappeared.

Omid, their parents, and his close friends
had used every connection they knew to find her. They had
cautiously approached the mullahs who earlier had approached them.
They made inquiries on the internet. One friend had even gone to
the police, who had laughed. There was no trace and no news.

Bastards
was the word that repeated
in his mind whenever he came to a dead end on how to find her.
I
should leave our apartment, but what if she comes back here
? He
tried her number again; it just rang.

I should have sent her away. The route
through Turkey. David offered to help once she got there. What now?
Bastards.

It was two Friday morning, and David
couldn’t sleep. His mind wouldn’t shut off. He was trying to work
out what to say to Kristen in a few hours.

He was replaying Kristen’s situation yet
again, when he heard a muffled thud on the floor above. He lay
still and in a few moments there were more sounds. He stood up,
feeling tired, and walked to the stairs in his pajamas. A moment
later he was quietly listening outside Rob’s door. The sounds of
Street War 2100 were unmistakable.

He knocked and tried to open the door, but
it was locked. He knocked again. The sound stopped. The door
finally opened. Rob stood before him in his full VR battle gear,
his visor pulled up and his microphone swiveled to the side. Rob
had pulled the mattress off his bed and positioned the VR floor
plate on top of them; clearly he had hoped to deaden the noise.

“Rob, we agreed to four hours on the
weekends. It’s Friday morning. What are you doing?”

Rob hung his head, then looked up into his
father’s face, and a note of defiance crept into his voice. “They
need me, and USNet offered me a special deal because I’ve been
playing so long. These hours are free, so I’m playing.”

“But it’s late and you’ll be a wreck
tomorrow. And, more importantly, we agreed to four hours until you
bring up your grades.”

“I know. But this is too good a deal. It’s
free! I’ll sleep late and do my homework in the afternoon. I
promise. It’s no big deal.”

“I…We’ll talk about it tomorrow. With your
Mom.”

“I left my squad in a mess. I gotta get
back.” He pulled down his virtual reality visor and headed back to
the special floor plate. “Blue Three, Blue Nine is back. Did they
go down that street?”

David watched for a moment as his son went
back to his virtual playground.
We really are losing him
. He
pulled the door closed and retreated downstairs to their darkened
bedroom. Elizabeth was breathing quietly. He lay down beside her,
another issue separating him from rest.

Friday morning David was in his office
early. He had not slept at all. The day before he had alerted Human
Resources, so the paperwork was ready. He checked his screen and
reread the salient points that he was required to go over.
I
can’t believe this
. As he read through the clinical-sounding
end to Kristen’s career at USNet, his mood deepened.
At least
most of the others are traveling this morning, so she’ll be gone
before they get back
.

He had asked Julie to let him know when
Kristen arrived, and her call came just after eight-twenty. Ten
minutes later Kristen appeared at his door. She looked tanned and
healthy, her hair a shade lighter. She held a magazine in her left
hand, and her face was troubled. He motioned her to come in, but he
stayed at his desk.

She walked toward him, and as she spoke she
raised the magazine. “David, I got back late last night and only
looked through this new copy of
Journal
by chance as I was
checking my mail. I know it probably looks like I told this
reporter about our studio acquisitions in L.A., but I
promise
I didn’t. She already knew about them.”

He didn’t smile and motioned her to take a
chair in front of his desk. “But, Kristen, you must be the ‘real
estate executive’ who confirmed that a ‘senior member’ of our team
had been working there. Isn’t that you?”

Her face grew red and more troubled. “I…uh,
I
did
talk to the reporter—Ms. Coleman. But I told her that
I had
no
comment for the record, that I didn’t make policy
here
or
comment on it. Just like you asked me to say.”

“Well, what
did
you talk with her
about?”

She was silent for a moment, looking at him.
“I gave her my general views on pornography and the media, but
none
of that is in the article. They were my personal
comments, and she knew it.”

“But
are
you the ‘real estate
executive’ who gave credence to her whole story by telling her that
I was in L.A. working on it?”

“I—I guess I am. Unless she talked to
someone else.”

“Not likely.”

“I know.”

He stopped and looked at her.
She’s such
a good person and great real estate exec. And she’s helping me with
Callie
. After some silence, as they looked at each other, he
said in a low and measured voice, “Kristen, I have to let you
go.”

She sat back and put the magazine in her
lap. “What?”

“You’re leaving our real estate group.
Leaving USNet. Effective immediately.”

“Because of this?” She held up the magazine
again.

“And the earlier statements. And the
problems on the Capital Tower project.”

“What ‘problems’ on the Capital Tower
project?”

For the first time he looked down at his
desk. “We had the high bid, but we didn’t buy the property.” He
looked at her again. “It was your project. You were responsible. We
should have bought it.”

“David, that’s ridiculous and you know
it!”

“We still haven’t bought it.”

“Because Bill Porter stole it!”

“It was your project. You should have
foreseen it.”
This is killing me…

“Is that in my personnel record?”

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“It will be.”

She paused, her anger obvious. “So that you
can always say that you fired me because I didn’t perform well. And
not because of those articles.”

“Both, I imagine.”

She turned her head and looked out the
window. “You’re really firing me over those two articles?”

“And Capital Tower.”

She turned back to him. “David, who’s
really
firing me?”

“What do you mean?”

She paused. Then suddenly her expression
changed. “Come with me, David! Let’s quit together.” She leaned
forward, excited. “We’ll start our own firm. The corporate types
will hire us in a minute to outsource their problems. We’ll make
good money! You won’t have to worry about Knox, or anyone.”

If only I …
He stopped, deeply touched
by her enthusiasm and excitement for working with him, even as he
was firing her for no real reason. Finally he said, “Kristen, I
can’t. I have too much invested here. And too many bills to pay to
take the chance.”

She slumped back. “Fired. Not because of
what I did, but because of what I said. Or what you think I
said.”

“Kristen, I’m genuinely sorry.”

She stood up. “I bet you are. Who’s going to
do all that I’ve been doing? You don’t have enough people here
now.”

David rose to meet her. “No, I mean about
you.”

“I hope that’s true, David. But I’m not
sure. This is such a scam. How can you put up with it and not quit
yourself ? Don’t you have principles any more? All of this just
because I spoke out once as being personally opposed to
pornography? David, you of all people, ought to support me, not
fire me!”

“I understand. I’m going to try to get us to
scale back our adult movies, working from the inside.”

“Good luck. Look at me. This is absurd and
you know it!” She quickly brushed her eye.

They were silent.

“How long do I have?”

“You have to go now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, it’s corporate policy. You’re due one
month’s severance and you have ten days of vacation coming. If
you’ll quietly resign, I’ve prepared a memo to HR to pay you for
three months, which is the maximum I can do under corporate policy.
I hope you can find a job in that time.”

“Me, too. What sort of a rec will you
write?”

“It will be very positive.”