Sweet Dreams (32 page)

Mark left the shop and got into his car, pulling it around and down a dark alley. A man came out from a doorway to his left and stopped Mark. He was short and heavy, with a beanie on his head. He wore a nice trench coat and scarf to keep the cold out.

"Hey, I'm Mario," Mark had rolled down his window, and Mario leaned in. "I see you got yourself a new ride. Nice, all the newbie's do something like this." He laughed.

"Yeah, thought I would see who I was dealing with, you know?"

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"You'll take it back before you know it. You've got no idea, pal. You ready?" He looked at Mark with a smirk on his face. Mark nodded and looked as confident as he could, even though he was terrified.

"Hold on to your hat--here we go!"

Mario pulled out a remote from his coat pocket and hit a red button. The ground shook, and right in front of Mark's eyes, the ground opened up. A huge hole dropped right in front of him and made a ramp leading down to an underground garage. Mario waved him down, and Mark drove down the ramp leading to what looked like a parking garage with lights lining the walls.

"Just find a spot and meet me inside." He pointed to a door that led to a small office that sat off in the corner of the parking garage. The garage was concrete and even the office in which Mario went into was built out of solid concrete. Mark drove to a stall and parked next to a red Porsche. He smiled and looked a few rows down to see an Aston Martin sitting sideways, filling up two spaces.

The office was simple, with a desk that had a few computers sitting on it and bright overhead lighting. Mario took off his coat and led Mark through another door, which opened to a room that had a familiar look to it. This was definitely a WJA operation. Between the gadgets and the wall with a large glass case, it looked like something in a Sci-Fi movie. Hanging in a row in the case were what looked like wet suits.

"You've been briefed, and now I'll go over some more details. First thing is, when you get to the safe house, you'll find your weapons and equipment. If you have any questions on how to use them, or what to do, you can access the main com-

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puter in any safe house. They're all voice-activated, watch this,"

Mario put his hand on a wall sensor. After it scanned his fingerprints, a screen came down from the ceiling. Once it was in place, it turned on and a voice welcomed him, asking what it could do for him.

"I need information on suiting up for the Taxi." Mario said with his Italian accent.

"The suit is located inside the glass case and will mold to your exact dimension and density of your body." The computer went on to explain how to operate the Taxi and the importance of using it correctly. The voice that filled the room seemed to come from everywhere and yet nowhere. It was a female voice and had a calm constant drone to it that sounded very electronic.

"Cool, so the Taxi is how I'm getting to Pakistan?"

"Bingo, now I'll explain. The Taxi, as we call it, is a high tech device that is connected from safe house to safe house. It is a series of underground tubes that are sealed and are controlled from the main station you see in front of you."

He pointed to a control panel mounted to the wall. "It has settings for the place you want to go and the time you want it to take you. A list of cities and safe houses will come up, like so."

He punched in Pakistan, and five cities came up on a list. He highlighted Islamabad. It lit up and locked the location in place.

"Now, it's around ten in the morning there, so you'll need to get there as soon as you can. We will set it at top speed."

"How fast is that?"

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"Uh, you really don't want to know, pal." He chuckled and went on. "Next, you punch in your weight and height. I'd say you are just under six feet tall and, what, a buck eightyfive?"

"One-Eighty, why do they need all this information?"

Mario looked at him and tried to explain without going into too much detail. Mark grabbed a chair and sat down, trying to take in everything he had just heard. He looked at Mario and laughed. "You can't be serious." From the look on Mario's face, he could tell that he wasn't joking. "Oh, you are! Wow, give me a minute."

Mark ran through it all again in his mind. It was like a bank with the tubes where you hit a button; the air sucks the capsule up and sends it to the bank teller. Like that, but much bigger and far more involved.

From the sound of it, the underground network was based in just about every country, all leading like an underground train to stations called safe houses. Mario hit a key on the keypad, and part of the wall opened up with a grinding sound, revealing a round, metal pill-looking machine. Mark got up and looked at it a little closer. It had a small glass window on the top where you could see out as you were lying on your back. The lid opened up from the side, like a clam opening to show off a pearl. The interior was made of a soft gel and had a five-point harness to strap you in and keep you from moving.

"So I put on this suit, and then I get into this thing and strap in?"

"Yup, and then a nontoxic sleeping gas will fill the capsule and put you out. Believe me; you don't want to be awake for

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the ride!"

"I see, and when I get there, it will send in the fresh oxygen to wake me up, and that's it?"

"Yup. You'll be fine. You might feel a little sick for an hour or so, but you'll get used to it." The little man giggled and his black slicked back hair bounced out of place and he pulled out a black comb, ran it through, and grinned.

"And the suit, what does it do again?"

"It stimulates your blood by pumping your whole body to keep the blood flowing evenly, as you will be experiencing a whole lot of Gs."

"So without the suit?"

"Well, let's just say--you'd make a mess!"

"Ah."

"When you get on the other side, you will be met by your spotter and he will get you lined up and ready to go. If you've got questions, he will get you straightened out. Okay?"

Mark nodded as he undressed and pulled on his suit. It was soft, besides the cables and lumps from the small pumps imbedded in the fabric. He zipped it up and pulled the last piece over his head. Now he knew what Spiderman must feel like. He could barely move as it suctioned tight around his body.

"You ready?"

"Ha! No time like the present."

Mario helped him into the small capsule and strapped him in; making sure that everything was tight. Before closing the lid, Mario wished him luck by giving him a thumbs-up. Mark looked out of the little window and saw the top of the round tube that fit tight all the way around his little projectile. 296 AARON

He heard a beep as the same mellow female voice filled his confined space, counting down from ten. The wall went back into place as Mario disappeared from view, and a final thump made it feel like it he was buried and might never come out the other side alive.

"Nine,"

The sound of rushing air could be felt as the seal sucked down against the lid making a snap as it locked into place, but as the force grew, so did the seal.

"Eight,"

Mark could feel his heart race as he imagined himself shooting underground and going under the ocean. He felt a brief regret fill his mind and a part of him wanted to scream for Mario to let him out, he didn't want to do this...

"Seven,"

He could feel the tiny pumps begin to massage his body. Now, this wasn't bad. He could use one of these at home, it felt like a Swedish massage, and he felt like a python was squeezing him to death.

"Six,"

The sound grew louder, he could feel the force compressing as it hit the tiny vessel. The air at the foot was pulling, and the air at the top was pushing; yet the machine stood still.

"Five,"

He heard the hiss of gas as it filled the cabin. It smelled like vanilla and strawberries. Mark thought how nice it smelled as he fell asleep hearing the last number ring through his ears.

"Four,"

The machine shot into the earth's crust, sending Mark fly-

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ing toward the Middle East at un-imaginable speeds. He lay soundly asleep as his craft pushed itself under the ocean. Within half an hour, he was across the other side of the ocean. The whole trip took just under two hours, but to Mark it was only a second.

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Chapter Twenty-One

THE SCENE WAS CALCULATED AND VERY PROFESSIONAL. Kirk looked at the two bodies that lay in a queen bed and nodded to the coroners, who didn't smile back as if they were all thinking the same thing: This
was a hit.
The body of Jenkins lay on its stomach with a single gunshot to the back of the head. The pillow was soaked with blood, and bits of his skull lay imbedded in the pillowcase. His wife was on her back, with her eyes wide open and a horrified look on her face staring up at the ceiling fan that spun in lazy circles with dead lifeless eyes. She must have woken up after they shot her husband, just in time to see the killer standing over her. She was dead before she could even let out a scream.

It all was so wrong
, Kirk thought. This was not supposed to happen to a young couple. For goodness sake, they haven't even had any kids yet. He had a finger of fear creep its way up 300 AARON

his spine and felt the eyes of Mrs. Jenkins haunting him, blaming him for her death, and promising never to let him rest. The CSI agents took pictures and dusted for fingerprints. They went over everything, even though they knew they wouldn't find anything such as a careless fingerprint or a shell casing. The place was just as it should be, other than the bodies lying in pools of tacky gelling blood; nothing was out of place or seemed to be broken into.

Kirk rummaged through the closet touching the suits and dresses that hung, waiting for someone to put them on, but the owners would never wear them again unless one was suitable for a funeral. His foot hit something hard, and he bent over to get a closer look. It was a small gun safe, like the ones they had in hotels to keep personal items in, nothing large, just a gold watch, or some extra cash.

He motioned for Geoff to come over and help him move it. It was heavy for a small safe, and locked.

"I think I can get in," Geoff said. Kirk didn't show any surprise at this bit of news, he was getting used to the idea that his friend had many hidden talents.

"So you were a locksmith in high school?" Kirk said with an underlying tone of sarcasm in his voice.

"No. Just was a bad kid, you know, cars and the occasional quickie mart, my dad put a stop to it right quick. But no worries; I'm retired now." He smiled with only half of his mouth and it made him look fifteen rather then his true age. Kirk watched as he leaned down, put his ear to the safe, and slowly turned the dial. In a few minutes, the safe was open. Geoff tried to look innocent, even though he was embarrassed to have even known how to break into a safe. "It's a

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standard safe. Almost anyone could break in." He tried to play off his feat as if anyone could do it.

Kirk nodded and smiled. "It came in handy this time. Just remind me not to leave my wallet around your sticky little fingers!" The case had a file and a few savings bonds in it and a clip of a service revolver, the gun was missing. Kirk looked through the file and quickly shoved it in his coat pocket before he called one of the investigators over to look at the safe. He was shocked to see the David's Island file in Jenkins'

safe, this is all wrong.
What was going on?
A thin woman with a blue CSI ball cap on came and stooped down to look at the open safe. She began dusting for prints and Kirk decided it would be a good time to leave rather then wait for the questions that were sure to come next.

"Let's get out of here," Kirk took a quick look around and walked out the front door.
This whole thing stinks. Something
else was going on.
He knew from the file and the information the FBI gave him that the WJA would not kill an innocent man let alone his wife.

"What was in that file?" Geoff wondered aloud.

"You're not going to believe it--it's the David's Island file from Cassy's Meyers office, the only file left, outside of what the FBI has,"

Geoff looked surprised as he looked back at the house that was now crawling with FBI and the NYPD who were taping off the crime scene with bright yellow
caution
tape
.

"What are you thinking?" Geoff asked.

Kirk looked at Geoff as he hailed a taxi. "I think we have a mastermind who is hiring hit men to do his dirty work, and he works for the FBI or worse, the CIA. He wants to make it 302 AARON

look like it is this WJA group but has other plans of his own."

A yellow taxi stopped and they got in before their FBI ride or anyone else inside knew that they had gone. Kirk told the driver to take them to the hotel. It was getting late, and he wanted to try to get a hold of Mooch for some more
unconven-
tional
computer work. This mole the FBI had was getting on Kirk's nerves, and he aimed to find out who it was. Even if it killed him.

________________________________________

MARK BOLTED UP OUT of a deep sleep with sweat dripping from his forehead and back. His heart was racing and felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest. He looked around, trying to see in the dark where he was. He had a bad feeling in the back of his mind that something was wrong,
did
the Taxi crash, and kill him? Was he still asleep and just
dreaming?

And then he smelled the faint, sweet sent of K's perfume. His heart leaped into his throat and for a moment, he thought he was going to cry. It was so real, just like he remembered it.
Where am I?