The Paranoid Thief (18 page)

Dressed and checked out of the hotel,
Randolph dropped off all the unusable equipment at a handicap facility, making
a bee-line to his first acquisition. Three hours later, with a rented vehicle
loaded with military police clothes and acquired equipment, Randolph was
waiting in the law offices of a local documentation attorney for the weasel
behind the desk to down load his credits for a private viewing of documents
he’d need to pull the job off. After paying the exorbitant fees, Randolph was
escorted with a fake smile to a private booth, where he proceeded to hack into
the system to over write its security measures and bring up Colonel Anderson’s
files for printing out with only slight detail changes, like his video picture
and hair color. Next came legal wording which would get Jill released into his
custody and orders to transport her over state lines. Next
came
introduction orders to the local military base with added orders for the
colonel in charge of the military police to aid in his assignment. Carefully
comparing his drafts to real orders on file in public records, Randolph
polished them up and printed them out. After he received the required stamps,
for a fee, Randolph slipped them into his briefcase and proceeded to his next
goal. By 1:15 p.m. Randolph held a valid ID and driving credentials; by 2:30
he’d lifted a bag and seating tickets form an incoming flight to add to his
ensemble and rented a vehicle suited to his new position.

A little past 5 p.m., coming to a rest in
the
visitors
parking space in the underground
structure, the no-nonsense corporal in the passenger front seat got out and
opened Randolph’s door. Once on the concrete floor, Randolph straightened out
his hip equipment, and started moving with his two man escort, for the double
door entrance into the police building.
Thus
far all is working as planned; now if I can keep up this facade of a hard-nosed
colonel,
he reminded himself as he walked into the lion’s den to extract
Jill from the jaws of justice.
With luck,
we’ll both be lost in the city after disembarking the atmosphere skimmer I’ve
already booked, dressed like any other low-level corporate manager and
secretary.
Head held at an arrogant level, Randolph passed uniformed
officers on all sides as he and his men entered the building, while he mentally
hoped his deodorant held up its promise. He was jumpy as hell on the inside,
like a bright fledgling chef offering up his best dish to the city’s most
acclaimed food critic. And in a way, that’s exactly what he was doing, save he
hadn’t the time to properly prepare his dish for this display. With a wish he
could adjust the itchy military
collar,
Randolph
folded his hands behind his back to keep them from showing his anxiety and
allowed the two corporals to escort him deeper into the lion’s maw, hoping no
one would look past the uniform to place his wanted photo over his face. Still
rigid, though trying as hell to look relaxed, Randolph rode the elevator to the
twentieth floor,
then
walked past cubicles not
un-similar to any corporate operation until he arrived at his destination. He
allowed his subordinate to knock before opening the door and then entered the
master lion’s den.

Regardless of knowing everything could go
wrong, Randolph knew now was not a time of worrying, and reestablished his airs
of superiority to walk up to the man in charge, extending his hand to the
captain as the man stood. “Captain Russell,” Randolph began, projecting his
voice to sound hard as plastic-steel, “My name is Colonel Don Van Hasting of
the military police.”

“Colonel,” the captain acknowledged,
clasping Randolph’s hand with strength, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m here on a matter of some
embarrassment. Apparently a woman by the name of Major Jill Wander somehow
survived her execution and vanished from our mortuary.” After receiving his
hand back, Randolph extracted the documentation he’d made from his briefcase
and handed it over. “I’m here to correct that mistake by escorting the major
back for completion of her sentence.”

“I see,” Captain Russell said, receiving
all the legal papers and motioning Randolph to the chair in front of his desk
while he read through the ten sheets of legal wording which could have been
reduced to half a sheet if it weren’t for all the “whereas, first party, second
party,” and countless other double talk words used to make the legal system
near impossible for normal people to understand.

With his fat in the oven now, Randolph sat
down stiffly before Captain Russell, and crossed his legs, trying to look
comfortable, though every neuron in his brain was screaming for him to take the
first emergency exit out. Although he’d done stunts like this before in
commerce buildings, Randolph never imagined such a stunt where he sat in a
building filled with hundreds of law officers while using two military trained
police grunts as an escort.
I hope if
there’s such a thing as gods of audacity, they were paying attention to my
exploits this very day. Damn, my antiperspirant had better live up to its
guaranty. And if it does, I’m buying stock in the company.

“
Mmm
…” Captain
Russell responded in his chair, apparently reading every word on every page
Randolph had handed over; what he’d created in hours, what should have taken
days. “Colonel, could you clarify something for me?” Captain Russell asked,
eying Randolph over the papers. “According to our files, we only identified
Miss Wander two hours ago, so how is it you’ve had time to cut these legal
documents and arrive here from Fort Chasing in that short of time?”

Not having his entire story intact,
Randolph began slowly. “As with any good organization, we keep tabs on all
local and foreign news videos. When the major’s picture hit the news cast, our
facial recognition program tagged her face with military records. Once done, my
office was notified and the appropriate orders cut.”

“But what if she turns out to be just
someone who has a striking resemblance to this woman?”

So
far so good, he’s asking only reasonable inquires,
Randolph thought. “A
plausible outcome, Captain, and if that were true you’d be showing me the
results in which I’d apologize for taking up your time and be on my way.
However, as you haven’t, after I returned her to our base, she’ll undergo some
intense identifying procedures and interrogation before her sentence is carried
out.”

Randolph watched the captain’s face as he
tapped on his terminal, noting his expression changed not at all in reaction to
whatever he was reading.

“You’re in luck, Colonel; all work-up on
Miss Wander has been completed and conforms to your documentation. As she is
then a military prisoner under a harsher sentence then our prosecution can call
for, your claim supersedes civilian laws and saves our tax payers the expense
of a trial.” Captain Russell hit a couple of buttons and assured Randolph,
“She’s all yours. Presently she’s resting comfortably in her assigned cell, so
I’ll clear you for entry. It’ll take me a few moments to go over her file and
print out a hard copy of her disposition. So why don’t you and your men head on
down and I’ll have it delivered to you there?”

Randolph acknowledged the request by
standing as the captain’s door opened and an officer stepped in.

Without looking up, Captain Russell
instructed the lieutenant, “Please see Colonel Van Hasting and his men to
holding block 27J.”

“Yes, Captain,” the lieutenant answered. He
looked to Randolph and asked, “If you’ll please follow me?”

Randolph acknowledged the captain one last time,
clasped his hands behind his back and followed the lieutenant out as warning
bells rang out in his mind, screaming.
This
is far too easy! He knows! Quick, get out while you can!
However, instead
of taking such credible suggestions from his experienced brain, Randolph
dutifully traveled along the corridor to the elevator where their guide pressed
underground level 14. While descending, Randolph pondered what might he have
done wrong besides stepping into a building filled with people who’d toss his
sorry butt out the highest window were they allowed. On the 14th floor below
ground level, the hallway encircled the elevator shaft with plastic-steel doors
set mid wall to each designated holding block. ‘J’ block sat directly in front
of the elevator doors with a key pad, slot card identifying plate and call box.
The lieutenant escorting Randolph and company waited till all were off and the
doors closed before using proper security measures, by blocking the panel to
his company’s view as he tapped in his identifying pass number and slipped his
card in the slot.

Without obvious interest, Randolph watched
a red bar of light over the door turn yellow, signifying thus far procedures
had been followed correctly. Next the sound box squawked with a tin voice. “Who
is it, and what
business have
you here?” The
lieutenant answered the required questions and was instructed to bring his
party into the next hallway while his claim was authenticated. The bar over the
door turned green and a pressure release valve sounded a warning. This allowed
the hydraulically sealed door to rotate open by remote.

“As this is a secured area, Colonel. All
weapons must be relinquished and placed in this holding bin,” the lieutenant
instructed once in the hallway. Already being prepared for such normal
measures, Randolph nodded approval for his escort as the pressure door behind
them closed and he sensed a slight tingling as body scanners gave the group a
once over. Never having tried a stunt like this, every understandable security
procedure implemented had Randolph that much more certain they knew exactly who
he was and
were
allowing him to crawl deeper into the
web before springing the trap. Covertly watching the lieutenant for any signs
of recognition, Randolph felt a sigh pass over him as the lieutenant pressed
the button which locked all batons and fire arms from the party members,
including the lieutenant’s. With all weapons securely out of hands’ reach, a
second scan was made, followed by a yellow light above the far door they were
facing changing to green. Once more Randolph heard the hiss of pressure valves
releasing as the door rotated open. The lieutenant motioned for them to follow
while compounding the unnecessary gesture with the spoken words, “If you will
follow me, Colonel?”

Randolph nodded for him to lead, and
followed him into a twenty-by-twenty white-gray room furnished with
uncomfortable hard plastic chairs and harsh lighting to illuminate everyone in
the room from all angles. Given no time to adjust to the room, Randolph was led
up to the guards station with the guardian sitting easily behind a protective
plastic-steel glass panel set in the steel wall some feet from a reinforced
door.

“Colonel, if you'll inform Lieutenant Bran
who you’re here for, he’ll help you from here.” So saying, Randolph’s escort
walked back into the hallway, allowing the pressure door to close behind him.

Randolph eyed the lieutenant as he left,
hearing more warning bells go off in his head as he now had no escort out of
the building.
Which
very well could mean I’m not leaving!
He tried to swallow. With all
options but one left to him, Randolph squared his shoulders, still clasping his
hands in back lest they start shaking in response to his nervousness, and
walked up to the duty officer.

“I’m Colonel Don Van Hasting. I’m here to
claim Major Jill Wander.”

“Right, Colonel,” the wide-awake lieutenant
answered, ringing more warning bells in Randolph’s head. “Captain Russell has
informed me of your coming arrival. If you and your men will have a seat, I
have a couple of notations to make before I can release her into your custody.”

As sitting down was the last thing he
wished to do, Randolph had to reason with himself.
If I’ve blown this, there’s nothing I can do.
And admitting this,
all he could do was play out the scene till whatever happened, happened. Trying
to radiate confidence, Randolph sat as suggested, crossing his legs in a casual
manner to help with his deception, whether blown or not. His two muscle men
remained standing in the middle of the room, quietly conversing to one another
about some sporting event and why the outcome had happened, as if they owned
the team.
A rather
useless activity.
Randolph rolled his eyes, in an effort to help
steady
himself
.
Some
psychiatrist insist
it’s a good way to stimulate the
brain in problem solving. If that were even remotely true, our society would
already be colonizing other worlds instead of still stumbling on problems with
the twenty-year-old moon base.

Randolph decided to put his own mind to
better use, like nonchalantly looking the room over for vulnerabilities, but as
he started, he heard the pressure door open and glanced that way, somewhat
knowing already what was going to happen. His escort mildly turned to look, and
watched in surprise as ten hard-nosed officers sporting hypo dart guns
hurriedly came in and spread themselves about, ready to fire. The
military-trained muscle men, perceiving danger, though a bit late, reacted in
self-defense instead of rationalizing they were nowhere near the jungles and
this was not a fight to the death. Even so, Randolph had to give them credit as
they dropped two men and were engaging two others as he sat, apparently calmly,
eyeing a pistol leveled at his chest and very unwilling to give the holder a
reason to use it. Regardless of his guards’ valiant attempt in a situation
which had gone afoul by their simply stepping into the building, the two MP’s
sagged to the polished floor from the tranquilizer darts as the officers picked
themselves up off the floor, or straightened out there clothes, while the two
covering Randolph spread out a bit more in-case he should be so foolish. The
next sound Randolph heard
was higher-quality shoes
treading on the hard floor. To this Randolph turned only his head and watched
Captain Russell walk in.