The Orphan Factory (The Orphan Trilogy, #2) (11 page)

Kentbridge counted the red dots.

Only
twenty two!

He hastily expanded the satellite image to display a map of the entire state and then all of mainland America.

Still only twenty two red dots!

The special agent realized he’d been duped. He felt like screaming out and cursing, but kept his emotions in check in front of the orphans. Even if Nine had been run over, or murdered, his microchip would still reveal his location.

Kentbridge knew the ninth-born orphan had somehow blocked the transmission signal, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how. Short of chopping off his arm – or cutting his arm open and removing the chip – there was no known way he could conceal his whereabouts. Resourceful though Nine was, Kentbridge didn’t for one second believe the boy would resort to such drastic action to hide from his Omega masters.

As he’d instilled in his charges, Omega’s tracking system was foolproof and impossible to evade. And he’d always believed that – until now.

Kentbridge hid his disbelief as he returned his cold stare to his captive audience. “Do any of you know where he went?” Again only silence. This time he stared directly at Seventeen. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“He acted alone, sir” Seventeen said. “Never told any of us about his escape plans.”

“Wait a minute,” Kentbridge replied suspiciously. “How do you know Nine’s trying to escape? Couldn’t he have had an accident, or be sheltering from the blizzard?”

Seventeen shook her head, then pointed toward Nine’s bed. “He took his backpack with him. And his wallet.”

So there it was. Kentbridge knew beyond any doubt that for the first time in the history of the Pedemont Project, one of the doctor’s creations was trying to escape. He also knew Naylor would blame him and hold him personally responsible. In all his years with the agency, this would be the first blot on his copybook.

It didn’t bear thinking about the consequences if Nine, or any of the Pedemont orphans for that matter, went public with what really happened at the orphanage.

Unable to hide his fury any longer, Kentbridge turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving the remaining twenty two orphans in no doubt there’d be hell to pay for not blowing the whistle as soon as they’d suspected Nine had done a runner.

As he strode back along the corridor, Kentbridge prepared to break the bad news to Naylor. He wasn’t looking forward to that. However, he had the satisfaction of knowing Naylor would make all the agency’s resources available to him to catch the rogue orphan. 

19

Omega Agency director Andrew Naylor could feel a headache coming on. He and Senior Agent Marcia Wilson had been seated in his office at Omega’s headquarters for hours trying to solve a problem caused by the agency’s arch rival, the Nexus Foundation.  

Naylor had been tipped off that the equally secretive Nexus Foundation had planted one of their own in the Omega Agency. He and Marcia were going through the records of all staff and contractors hired in Omega’s various sub-stations in the last six months to try to identify the mole. That he’d summonsed his senior agent to drop what she’d been doing and fly out to meet with him at HQ was an indication how seriously he was taking the tip-off. Fortunately, the blizzard had not yet grounded flights in and out of Chicago when Marcia had received the call earlier in the day. As it turned out, hers had been the last outbound flight.

Omega’s headquarters served as a home away from home for Marcia whose time was otherwise divided between the Pedemont Orphanage and the CIA command center in Langley, Virginia, where she was also an employee. Unlike the CIA’s hub, Omega’s HQ did not show up on any maps or satellite images. That was because it was a subterranean facility hidden deep beneath an abandoned hydro dam in south-west Illinois. Built in 1978, the existence of the underground facility was unknown to the American public. More importantly, it was unknown to the US Government, or any other government for that matter.

However, that could all change if there really was a Nexus mole in their midst.

For Naylor, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Omega was on the verge of securing lucrative mining contracts with a handful of new Eastern European and central Asian republics – all former Russian territories that had recently gained independence following the downfall of Communism in the region. If the sensitive intelligence Omega’s operatives had gathered was shared with Nexus, that organization could easily get the jump and beat Omega to the multi-billion dollar deals.

Marcia studied the file of a female computer technician Omega had hired a month earlier. She handed the file to Naylor. “This one could be worth investigating, sir.”

The telephone on Naylor’s desk rang as the director took the file from his senior agent. “You get that.”

As Marcia answered the phone, Naylor didn’t know it, but his headache was about to get a whole lot worse. Marcia mumbled something into the mouthpiece then handed the phone to Naylor. “It’s Kentbridge for you, sir.”

“Tell him I’m too busy to discuss any of his ankle bitters.”

“He says it’s urgent.”

A disgruntled Naylor snatched the phone from his subordinate. “What is it, Tommy?”

Observing her boss, Marcia immediately knew Naylor had a problem just as big as identifying the Nexus mole. As the director listened to Kentbridge, his pockmarked face turned red with rage and his lazy eye revolved in its socket like a spinning plate.

“What do you mean he’s attempting to escape?” Naylor roared into the mouthpiece. At the same time, he switched on the speaker phone so that Marcia could be a party to the conversation. He wanted her to hear this as, next to Kentbridge and Doctor Pedemont, she had the most to do with the orphans.

Kentbridge’s voice came over the secure line loud and clear. “He’s been missing two hours now and has somehow blocked the transmission signal from his microchip.”

“That’s impossible!”

“You’re right sir,” Kentbridge acquiesced. “But he’s done it anyway.”

“Which kid is it?”

“Nine.”

“Annette’s son?” Naylor asked, referring to Nine’s deceased mother.

“Yes,” Kentbridge replied. “If you can spare a dozen operatives, I’m confident we can soon rein him in.”

“It’s bad timing, Tommy,” Naylor replied. “We have another situation we are dealing with here. Most of our operatives are currently on assignment, so I can only spare five men. That’s it.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Well, if that’s all you can spare, sir, that will have to do.”

Marcia could hear the underlying frustration in Kentbridge’s voice.

“Meanwhile, you get on the case,” Naylor barked into the phone before abruptly ending the call. Turning to Marcia he said, “The blizzard hasn’t yet shut down all of the roads to Chicago. So you’d better go and help Tommy. After all, you know those little brats almost as well as he does.”

Taking her leave, Marcia collected her papers and stood up. “I told you the ninth one was trouble.”

“You were right,” Naylor replied as he escorted Marcia from his office. “Hurry, if you leave now you can be back in Chicago before nightfall.” He gently nudged her forward. “And take two operatives with you. The other three I’m loaning to Tommy are in Chicago now.”

The pair walked out onto a mezzanine floor. It overlooked a large, open plan operations room where Omega personnel performed their specialized roles. Looking down at them, Marcia thought they could have been the employees of any corporation anywhere in the Western world. In fact, she knew they were the best in their respective fields, they’d sworn an oath of secrecy to Omega and they were knowingly working to help the agency achieve its aim of being the power broker in the New World Order.

Naylor wished Marcia a safe journey back to Chicago as he walked her to the open elevator that would whisk her to the surface a mile above. She entered the elevator. As the doors closed, Naylor added, “Help Tommy sort this rogue orphan problem then get back here quick as you can.”

Marcia nodded and then she was gone.

Naylor returned to his office to find an older gentleman waiting for him. Fletcher Von Pein was one of the twelve founders of the Omega Agency. He was also a powerful banker and a majority shareholder in the US Federal Reserve which, despite its misleading name, had zero government ownership and was actually a private corporation owned by the global elite.

Von Pein’s family was a little known, but highly influential entity within American banking circles.
Banking Royalty
, some called it. Fletcher Von Pein’s grandfather had been one of the chief orchestrators of the Federal Reserve Act of 1913, which effectively took ownership of the bank from the American people.

As the elderly banker studied Naylor, he recalled that shortly before being assassinated President Kennedy had begun formulating a new Federal Reserve Act, which would have restored the Fed to a fully-fledged US Government bank. Instead, what remained was a central bank only nominally under the Government’s control.

Von Pein understood the entire monetary system was a gigantic Ponzi scheme and could be tampered with accordingly. He and his Federal Reserve cronies controlled interest rates, inflation and the printing of paper money. Thanks to him, funds from the Fed could be consistently funnelled into the Omega Agency via a multitude of offshore bank accounts. Even so, those same cronies expected results and didn’t like being viewed as a bottomless pit.

That was primarily why Von Pein was checking in on Naylor at this moment. And Naylor knew it.

“Please, sit down, Fletcher,” Naylor said politely. He massaged his temple in an effort to ease his pounding headache then took a seat himself and faced his important visitor.

Von Pein could see something was troubling his opposite. “What’s wrong, Andrew? Is it this damn Nexus business?”

“It’s partly that. And I’ve just learned one of our orphans has run away.”
And I’ve got a bitch of a headache and I’m in no mood to be cross-examined
. Naylor was tempted to voice his thoughts, but diplomatically held his tongue. 

“We need to resolve these issues quickly.” Von Pein leaned forward in his seat to add weight to his words. “Those Nexus vultures are just waiting for the chance to put us out of business.”

“Don’t worry, we’re onto it,” Naylor replied defensively.

“What about this runaway? What’s being done to reel him in? Or her?”

“Him. It’s the ninth-born orphan. He’s always been a bit different.”

“I’m not interested in his personality type, Andrew. I want to know what’s being done about him.”

Bristling, Naylor said, “Tommy’s handling it personally.”

“Kentbridge?”

Naylor nodded. “He knows everything about those kids and will sort it out, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.” Von Pein stood up. “Well, I’d better leave you to get on with it.”

Naylor stood and ushered his visitor out.

“Keep up the good work,” Von Pein said in an effort to ease the tension.

Naylor managed a grimace before the banker stepped out of the office. The pounding in his head was intensifying. He cursed the ninth orphan for adding to his woes and promised himself he’d personally make an example of the brat when Kentbridge caught him.

20

Kentbridge conversed with Doctor Pedemont as they strode downstairs to the ground floor of the orphanage. The special agent was done up in his winter coat, gloves and headgear, all containing thermal protection, in preparation for departing the orphanage in search of Nine. “Why would he feel the need to steal the White Gold?”

Doctor Pedemont had to hurry to keep up with the younger man. “I have no idea. Maybe he wants to stay healthy.”

“No. It must be directly related to his escape.”

The doctor thought on it for a moment, then looked up as if remembering something of great significance.

“What is it, doc?”

“Remember that classified document detailing experiments the military conducted using White Gold?”

“Yes, vaguely.”

“Well, the report said planes and vehicles became invisible to radar when smothered in White Gold.” The doctor looked Kentbridge dead in the eye and added, “Signals from their transmission devices were also blocked.”

They reached the ground floor. Waiting for Kentbridge by the front door were three of the five Omega operatives Naylor had promised. All thirtysomething men, they looked fit and professional. Each nodded respectfully at the special agent as he walked along the hallway toward them.

Kentbridge stopped walking and restrained Doctor Pedemont. “How does that explain Nine’s disappearance? None of the orphans know about those experiments.”

“I’m afraid they do.” The doctor suddenly looked uncomfortable under Kentbridge’s piercing gaze. “Marcia showed the document to the orphans.” Ignoring his opposite’s incredulous expression, he continued. “You were away at the time. She felt it important the orphans understood the full power of White Gold.”

“When was this?” Kentbridge resumed walking.

“About two years ago. You were visiting Langley at the time with Andrew.”

As they reached the waiting operatives, Kentbridge reviewed this latest bombshell. He cursed Marcia silently. He also cursed Nine as he realized the crafty little orphan had found a loophole in Omega’s sophisticated tracking system.

Kentbridge bid Doctor Pedemont a curt farewell and stepped outside in the company of the other operatives. Pausing on the top step, he checked his handheld computer device to reconfirm where Nine’s signal last showed up on the grid. As before, it revealed an unspecified location on 137
^th
Street.

The operatives hurried to a Range Rover parked at the front gate. Kentbridge climbed in to the front passenger seat. Next to him, one of the operatives got behind the wheel, while the other two piled into the back seat. The Range Rover took off in a squeal of tires.

As the vehicle fishtailed on the icy road, Kentbridge looked in the side mirror and saw the spinning rear wheels were spraying snow and ice in all directions. He glanced at the driver. “Make sure you get us there in one piece, Jason.”