Off the Grid (A Gerrit O'Rourke Novel) (38 page)

He copied the IP address, then pasted it into a search program he and Joe used as a locator. They used this program when they came across websites that tried to hide their location of service, sending queries like Willy’s colliding into dead ends all over the planet. It would take time for Willy’s system to connect to where he and Joe kept these master programs. He would receive an e-mail when the site had traced and identified this unknown IP address. Until then, he would study other data collected from the Albuquerque operation.

He tried not to think about Redneck. Shock over his friend’s betrayal still left Willy numb. They always butted heads, but he thought he and Redneck shared a common bond, a common understanding. His mind began dwelling on other concerns, the main one being Joe O’Rourke. Was his friend dead or alive? He shook that thought from his mind, choosing to focus on whether Mr. G’s rescue plan might work.

Dark thoughts kept pounding away. Were they too late? Would this be one big trap they were walking into, a trap none of them might walk away from? How much did Kane know about them? Were more traitors in their midst?

He studied Alena and Gerrit for a moment. Could they also be plants? Nah. He knew for sure Al was cool. She had risked everything for them on more than one occasion. She’d left everything behind to join them. She was not a traitor.

Gerrit leaned over his writing pad. Willy studied the man, thinking back over what they knew about him. Once, he’d asked the others whether it was wise to reveal their operation to this man. Someone they barely knew. How ironic that Willy raised this concern with a traitor already in their midst.

Alena and Joe forcibly argued that Gerrit could be trusted. Look at what he suffered and the service he’d already given to his country. No. Mr. G was not a traitor. In fact, he just might be the leader their group needed to survive. Funny, Hillbilly had nothing to say about whether to trust Mr. G. This was about the first time Hillbilly had nothing to mouth off about.

Willy turned back to his computer and typed more commands. There was a wealth of information he could mine from their raid on Millennium Technologies. He was about to open another program when an incoming e-mail alert popped up on his screen. He opened the e-mail. It was from Beck Malloy.

Downloaded this from lab. Tell me what it means?

He clicked on the attachment to the message and waited for it to open.

“Hey, Mr. G. You may want to see this. Just came in from Beck.”

Willy returned his attention to the screen. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Gerrit slide into the seat next to him.

“What do you have?”

“Man, whatever we’ve got here, this file is huge. Even as a zip file, this thing is taking forever to open.”

Gerrit studied Willy for a moment. Something was troubling him. Gerrit suspected it might be related to Redneck. Better to leave well enough alone.

He leaned closer. “Mind if I take a look?”

Willy turned the laptop so Gerrit had a heads-on view. “This has to be what Senator Summers was trying to tell you that night. It spells out how they intend to use Project Megiddo.”

He nodded, studying the research paper captured on the screen. He scrolled through the verbiage, getting to the heart of what he thought the project might be about. He spotted an eyes-only synopsis from the Megiddo Oversight Committee. The members of the committee were identified by code. “Look at this. This might be what we’re searching for.” He began reading out loud:

“‘MISSION STATEMENT: Project Megiddo’s first phase of this multiphase project is critical to the overall success of the entire operation. Upon implementation, Project Megiddo will be used to aggressively monitor any resistance to our ultimate goal of global unification. Political, economical, and military associates and opponents must be clearly identified and segregated by name, company, and organization. Those enlightened and motivated to work toward global unifications will be singled out for support and assistance to achieve success within their respective spheres of influence. Opponents will be aggressively targeted for isolation, quarantine, and elimination.’”

Alena leaned over the back of his chair. “
Oy vey!
This lays out exactly what we thought Kane and the others were working toward.”

“This is why they killed my father. He was…to put it in their words, ‘targeted for elimination.’ Mom was just collateral damage.” Gerrit gripped the laptop.

She squeezed his shoulder.

He scrolled down the document until he came to the operational plan of the project. “They have already begun to implement Project Megiddo, targeting those they need to put out of business. What they don’t spell out is how they plan to achieve these goals.”

Alena removed her hand. “Willy, can you find out? This attack on those who oppose globalization?”

Willy leaned over to see the screen from a different angle. “Not from this information. All this data has to be forwarded to centralized storage facilities. I mean, it just can’t be allowed to float out there in cyberspace. We need to track where this project dumps its data—that might have been Millennium Technologies—and where the results from Megiddo’s invasive technology feeds back to storage and monitoring stations. These may or may not be the same physical location.”

Gerrit nodded. “Let’s say that the Albuquerque facility became inoperable due to our surprise visit yesterday. Where would they start up? In Harrogate?”

Willy scratched his jaw. “Maybe, but I would think they’d have secondary locations not known to us. I mean, why did they bring you to Kane’s operation in Harrogate if they weren’t sure you’d become a team player? That was taking a big risk.”

“Maybe Kane was sure he could control me, persuade me to become a part of his operation. He made a huge error, letting us know about his base of operation. Look where it is located. In the same general areas as NSA’s global electronic monitoring stations at Menwith Hill. They could tap into their fiber-optics system from Harrogate and wouldn’t need to build their own duplicating facilities. They have the one in England tied to the other allied stations like Ascension Island in the South Atlantic, Pine Gap in Australia, other suspected listening facilities in Canada and Japan, as well as many listening posts in the U.S. That is just to access communications over fiber-optics lines. Not to mention all the classified satellite surveillance capabilities of which we may or may not know about.”

Willy glanced up. “So you know about some of these places? From your time in the military?”

“Partly. And some of it comes from my research at MIT before my last military duty overseas. Because of my work, they gave me a high security clearance to be able to access some of these intelligence sources. Kane knew this. I guess that was one of the reasons he tried to recruit me. To get access to what I already knew. And to have my clearance reinstated so I could continue to feed him information.”

Alena sat quietly listening to the two men talk. She finally broke into the conversation. “What is our game plan?”

Gerrit continued to scroll through Project Megiddo, looking for anything that might lead them to their next target. “Right now, nothing has changed. We need to get inside Harrogate, get Joe out of there, and tear that place apart to find out more about Kane’s plans. To find out more about who he’s working for.”

Willy leaned back in his chair. “And what if Kane is just the tip of the iceberg? What if this is greater than his organization, however big that might be?”

Gerrit eyed him for a moment. “You can count on there being many more Richards running loose out there, layered organizations upon organizations. But I believe above all of them are a select few, an elite, those we may never discover. They’ve covered themselves with protection, allowing people like Kane to take all the risks.”

“But if we can just find one of those strings, and follow it back to those shot callers.”

“Shot callers?”

Willy grimaced. “That goes back to my days in the gangs. It was always hard for the popos to take down the shot callers. Too many homeboys and soldiers willing to lie down to protect them.”

Gerrit smiled. “Popos? Homeboys? These are the terms you learned in college?”

“Yeah. The school of hard knocks. Not something you pick up in places like MIT, Mr. G.”

“Willy, you bring a practical approach to this operation. I appreciate it.”

Willy studied Gerrit for a moment, as if trying to determine whether he might be joking. “Thanks, Mr. G…I think.”

Alena tussled Willy’s hair. “You always made my day interesting. From the second we first met.”

“Likewise, Al.”

Gerrit watched the two of them for a bit before turning back to the computer. “Okay, enough of this, everyone. We need to figure out how to save Joe and get our hands on Kane.”

His words dampened their brief moment of camaraderie. They would touch ground in less than an hour. It was time to pull things together.

He just hoped that whoever met them on the ground would be able to get him the resources needed to pull this operation off. Otherwise, they might be spending the next few years in a British prison or buried in a nearby graveyard.

London, England

T
he pilot taxied to a part of Heathrow Airport reserved for private international flights. Gerrit knew they were all carrying solidly built documents that would support their aliases through Security and Customs.

Still, he was on edge when these documents and their faces became subjected to vigorous facial-recognition programs and document searches. Joe had assured him that between his security measures, his contacts inside certain federal agencies, and Alena’s expertise, these documents would hold up under intense scrutiny. However, Joe had been captured by Kane, somehow alerted to Joe’s illegal entry into this country after Redneck sent a warning. There had to have been a breakdown, and right now they were going in blind. There was no time to back out and try another approach.

Joe’s life depended upon them. No second chances when time was a matter of life and death.

The pilot cleared the cabin and made his way toward them. “There is someone from security coming on board. Says he needs to speak to one of you.”

Gerrit looked at the pilot. “Do you know who he wanted to speak to?”

The pilot jutted his chin toward Gerrit. “He mentioned your name.”

So the pilot knew who he was? Jack had not mentioned that he gave out Gerrit’s real identity. “Did you get this guy’s name?”

The pilot shook his head and returned to the cockpit. Willy looked at him. “Shall I let him in?”

Gerrit shrugged. “What choice do we have?”

A moment later, Willy popped open the exterior door and pushed outward and a power-operated ramp edged to the opening. Heavy footsteps came up the ramp and a familiar face popped through the hatch.

James Stafford, MI6 agent from Vienna.

“Gerrit, rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated.” Stafford stepped into the cabin, grinning at the expression on Gerrit’s face. “Back from the colonies, Doctor?” To the others, he said, “James Stafford, of her Majesty’s Secret Service. At your beck and call.”

Gerrit felt peculiar. The last time he met Stafford, the British agent had not been cordial. “I thought you worked for—”

“Lawton?” Stafford laughed. “He just thinks I work for him. Like I said last time, Gerrit, I work for a lot of people. At least I let them think that. Been working with Beck Malloy and Joe O’Rourke for years whenever they come over to my side of the pond. Come, let me help you get through security.”

Gerrit and his team grabbed their belongings and followed the muscular man off the plane. They walked across fog-drenched pavement and approached a dreary gray building with a red brick facade. Stafford punched in a security code and opened a heavy metal door, rusted hinges squeaking.

Stafford gestured them inside. “I’ve arranged the VIP tour for our guests in the most exquisite part of the terminal.”

They shuffled across an almost empty warehouse, their footsteps echoing through the building. Passing through another ancient door, they emerged on the far side along a roadway where a single vehicle sat parked, running. Under most circumstances, airport security would be all over this vehicle.

Stafford pointed toward it. “Here’s our ride. I’ve got you set up for the night in a house we maintain on the outskirts of the city. Tomorrow, we’ll get whatever you need before your visit up north.”

Gerrit raised an eyebrow. “You know about that?”

Stafford gave him an offended look. “You think I don’t know what you Americans are up to on my own island? Ever since that trouble we had with you colonists, we’ve always made it our business to keep tabs on you rebels.”

Gerrit smiled. “And I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t, Doc. We just happen to be on the same side in this fight.” The British agent grinned before opening the driver’s door. “Climb on in, everyone. On our way to the safe house, you can fill me in on what I need to know.”