Chapter 14
“Sir, she was right. Massive skew in the numbers. Thirty-one government-related officials died within the last three years. The thing is they all appear to be accidents, illness, and food allergies,” Red reported.
“What would be a normal statistic for that time range?” Steele asked, glancing at Frayer, who was also listening on the channel.
“Six or seven. Maybe as high as ten. Sir, why has no one noticed?”
“You said accidents though?” Frayer asked.
“One died of food poisoning, two choked on food, three died of anaphylactic shock from food allergies and bee stings, twenty-three heart attacks, and two drownings that might have been heart attacks while swimming. I’m shocked no journalist has put this together.”
“Red, can you pass some of this to Steve?” Frayer asked.
“Already did, ma’am. We’re delving into the particulars, but already my hackles are raised. Call it gut instinct. Some of the particulars are suspicious as hell.”
“What do you know about this?” Agent Steele asked, switching to the open network, his eyes locked on the Blake girl, who appeared to be asleep.
Her eyes opened and she looked at him, and then Frayer, and finally Chen.
“Too many to be chance. Both political parties, all with very controversial patterns of decision-making, most hated by their constituents, many implicated but not charged in corruption and conflict of financial interest. I think a single killer, moving freely around the country, highly disciplined, not a participant in group chats, social media, or the like. I doubt there’s a published manifesto.
Highly intelligent, and probably with medical training. Significant personal resources.”
“What else?” Frayer demanded.
“That would be your job, Agent. I’m a civilian and I don’t even have access to a computer,” she said, her tone even.
“Cassie, you said you wanted answers to who was after you,” Agent Steele said.
“I said that I wanted to know how they figured out where I was and why they sent both Oscar and you at me at the same time. But I already know who is after me… William Cramer.”
“Why does he want you, Cassie?” Chen asked.
“There could be any number of reasons. Clearly you all think I have value or you wouldn’t have spent several hundred thousand dollars in sending a small army to secure me.”
“But you feel it is something to do with your ability to spot patterns,” Chen pressed.
“I know that he’s spending big on Synthetic Intelligence.”
“Oh!” Red said.
“That differs from Artificial Intelligence?” Frayer asked.
“They are often used interchangeably,” Red said. “But there can also be a difference. AI seeks to replicate human thinking. SI seeks to create a whole new way of thinking.”
“But Cassie, what does that have to do with you?” Steele asked.
“William Cramer has an intense interest in neurodivergent individuals. I fit that descriptor.”
“How?” Chen asked, leaning forward.
“Well, I’ve told you I’m good at pattern recognition. Maybe it’s enough to have an overactive RAS.”
“RAS?” Kessler asked.
“Reticular Activating System,” Chen said. “The thing that you’ve trained to identify people with weapons so you can make split-second decisions on shoot or no shoot. Cassie, I think you’re holding back.”
The teen studied the sharp profiler with a calm expression.
“Of course, just as you are. You couch your reluctance to share information as necessary for investigative security. I couch mine as necessary for personal survival. Cramer is into mad scientist stuff. Cutting-edge melding of human and machine—emphasis on cutting. He already has a prototype. Calls it CATMAP.”
Both Steele and Frayer stiffened a little.
“CATMAP is supposed to predict stuff. I’m wondering if it predicted where and how I would travel. Or it could have gotten a facial recognition hit off a camera, even though I was pretty careful. But how did you guys get there so fast?”
Nobody spoke.
“CATMAP hints, huh?” Cassie said, looking back and forth at the two senior agents.
“You’re good at reading people,” Chen noted. “You kill at poker, don’t you?”
“I do alright,” Cassie answered.
“You should answer our questions completely and thoroughly,” Carmine suddenly said. “You are in our custody, headed to an undisclosed location, and no one knows where you are.”
Cassie whipped around and looked at her. “Why would you say that? Why would you think I have no one? Because my dad died? Like I don’t have anyone else, anywhere in the world? Did you assume I sat in the park waiting for you all and did… nothing? That I was playing a game on my burner phone?”
“Cassie, what did you do?” Steele asked.
“Lots of stuff. A whole hour? Come on. What couldn’t I do?” she said. “I did say hi to your sister, by the way. I like her.”
Steele froze, then reached into his suit jacket breast pocket and pulled out his personal phone. He looked at the screen and swore. “Shit. She’s pissed. Damn it.” Then he noticed another message, one from a source he’d been waiting for.
Why are you asking about RB?
He typed back a quick answer. Interested in RB’s kid.
He started to put the phone down but spotted the three dancing dots. Kid? WHY?
In custody.
Moron. Utter Moron. Why?
Safety.
Not yours. You are not safe. Is she safe?
Yes. Why?
Meet me at our place at our time. Powering off.
He stared at the still screen and then sat back, carefully not lifting his gaze to look at the girl. One of the deepest operatives in the intelligence world not only knew who he was referencing without names but was concerned enough to want an in-person meeting.
“Approaching Tiki now,” the pilot said over the aircraft network.
The helicopter tilted on its axis as it swung around, and a view of the task force headquarters filled the side window. The T3 building was code-named Tiki and did not appear on Bureau records.
Steele allowed himself to watch the girl as she took in the building and its surroundings.
“Hide in plain view? I like it,” Cassie said without taking her eyes off the sight below.
The pilot brought the aircraft in with expert control, the second Blackhawk setting down a safe distance away.
The landing zone had clearly once been a very large parking lot, one that had held hundreds of workers’ cars.
Now it held just eighty or so. The entire property was surrounded by an opaque fence, almost a wall.
The agent acting as crew chief opened the copter’s sliding door and the team began to dismount from the aircraft.
Agent Kessler led the way, followed by Cassie, Carmine, and Chen.
Steele and Frayer followed behind, both watching their new project.
“She jumps in and out of Blackhawks like she’s done it a few times,” Frayer noted quietly.
“I imagine she must have visited her dad when he was pulled back into active duty,” Steele said.
“But that’s a civilian visit. Why would she have experience with Blackhawks?”
“I have a meeting coming up that may give me the answer to that. She wasn’t kidding about people knowing where she was. I just don’t know which people.”
“Military brat, hero father, experience with helicopters, connections to a Ranger regiment,” Frayer summarized. “We should look into those calls she made in the park.”
“I suspect she already cleared the phone and destroyed the SIM card, but yeah we can have Steve and Red query the closest cell tower, plus we need to see what she’s carrying in that pack,” Steele said.