The Trigger (9 page)

Dallas interpreted that to mean Spencer and his brother had probably built a bunker but didn’t want anyone else to know about it. “You’ve got enough land, but the excavation would be overwhelming.”

They were traveling up a gradual incline, and Spencer glanced out to the right where the ground rose more sharply. A rush of adrenaline made Dallas almost giddy.

The bunker was in the hill.

Wednesday, May 8, 6:35 p.m.

Randall showered and dressed for the gathering at the community center, annoyed with the intrusion. Why had his brother invited a new member into Destiny just as they were planning to trigger the collapse? Spencer needed a new partner, of course, so he could finally have children, but with Emma missing and the FBI still snooping around, it seemed damn risky. His brother was thinking with the wrong head at the wrong time.

Earlier, he’d watched Spencer take Sonja on a tour of the property, and he’d been hit with a pang of jealousy. She was so young and pretty, and he could tell by the way she looked at his brother that she was into him. Randall hoped she wasn’t an idiot or a flake like so many of the women who found their website and wanted to join. Most of the female applicants were running from something or looking for someone to take care of them. The few men who applied were usually angry, immature, or trying to avoid paying taxes or child support.

Randall felt lucky to have had a sexy wife like Emma in his life for a few years. He’d first met her in a restaurant in Redding, and it had taken a while to convince her to marry him. But she’d come to love Destiny and see it as the perfect place to raise the kids they wanted. Randall’s first wife had left him after a short time on the property. The other homes hadn’t been built yet, and she’d grown bored, then angry at all the money they were spending on stockpiles and equipment. She’d had no vision, and they’d fought constantly. The crazy cunt had even called the police on him once for grabbing her. But they’d never had great makeup sex to hold them together.

Randall stopped in the kitchen and downed a beer to put him in the mood for socializing. Now that they were finally implementing their plans, he just wanted it to happen so they could be on the other side. He hated the uncertainty.

Randall crossed the patch of grass between his home and the data center, planning to check in with a couple of his conspirators, then head to the gathering. Just as he sat down at a keyboard, his cell phone rang. Randall glanced at the number. It didn’t seem familiar but the area code was New York. Randall picked up. “Who is this?”

“Damon Estes. Sorry for the call, but I’ve hit a snag and wanted to discuss it.” The man, whom he’d never spoken to in person, kept his voice low.

“What snag?” It was dangerous to discuss their plans on the phone. Until now, they’d used Google chat because the company didn’t keep logs of IM conversations, so authorities couldn’t wiretap or subpoena transcripts.

“They started changing the code on the ninth floor twice a day. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get in and get the explosives close enough to do the job.”

“You mean the candles?”

A heavy pause. “Right. That’s what I should have said.”

“Can you get close to the person who changes the code?”

“It’s computer-generated.”

“Shit.” Randall pounded his palm against the mouse pad. If the network hub at 60 Hudson Street didn’t go down, their operation wouldn’t be as effective. That center was pivotal to most of the internet communication in the United States. They had other similar attacks planned, including one in the Google building in New York, several in Silicon Valley, and two in Europe. He’d done the best he could to recruit people who were close to important digital targets.

He remembered the tech guy Spencer had brought in. “We have someone here who may be able to hack into the building’s security system and disable the lock or rig the codes. I’ll get back to you.”

“Are we still aiming for the thirteenth?”

“Yes. I’ll be in touch.” A new layer of tension wrapped around his chest. They had to pull this off soon.

“Hack into what system?”

The voice made him jump and he spun in his chair. Raff stood near the interior door with a beer and a peculiar grin. Randall tried to sound casual, despite his racing heart. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to be curious about what you mean by candles.”

“I can’t talk about that.”

“Am I the hacker who’s supposed to help you get into the building’s security system? What building?”

Randall’s heart slowed a little. “I considered asking you.”

“Your brother doesn’t know about this part of the plan, does he?”

“No, but like his project, this is just a test of the system. We want to give this country a wakeup call.”

Raff laughed, a nasty sound. “You’re both full of shit. You aren’t planning tests, you’re planning a doomsday scenario. Only you’re a couple of amateurs. You’ll do some damage for sure, but you won’t bring civilization to its knees.”

A long silence made them both look around to see if anyone else had slipped into the room.

Randall’s brain raced. The hacker didn’t know everything they had planned, but would he go to the FBI? What would it take to stop him? Finally, he asked, “Will you help me?”

“Why should I?” Raff took a seat, as if negotiations had begun.

“Because it’s the right thing to do. Human-caused global climate change will wipe out the species if we don’t shut it down. The pace is accelerating at a rate no one predicted.” Randall didn’t understand why this wasn’t obvious to everyone. “With our financial system running on borrowed money, it’s just as vulnerable. We need a reset.”

Raff chuckled again. Randall wanted to slap him.

The hacker held out his hands in a questioning gesture. “Who do you think I am?”

Randall started to respond, but Raff cut him off. “None of those issues concern me. Other than my family, I care about three things: money, pussy, and fun. And by fun, I mean hacking into electronic systems where I’m not wanted. If you’re willing to pay me a nice chunk of change for doing something fun, I’m on board.”

Randall tried to hide his relief. Of course the hacker wouldn’t go to the authorities. He was probably on their cyber most-wanted list. Rafferty probably wasn’t even his real name. “How much?”

“Fifty thousand.”

Oh shit.
They didn’t have that kind of cash anymore. He remembered that Sonja claimed to have gold being transferred here. It was one of the reasons Spencer had decided to bring her in so quickly. “I can give you ten grand now and another ten in gold bars after you’re successful.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with gold?”

“After the financial collapse, the value of gold will double.” No reason to add that his paper money would become worthless.

“I want all cash. Transfer half to my bank account today.”

“What if you can’t get in?”

“Which building?”

“60 Hudson Street in New York. Where all the network hubs are.”

“You want to take down the internet?” A wicked grin.

“Just long enough to cripple certain industries.”

“You know why the internet is still running?” Raff smirked. “Because without it, hackers wouldn’t have a playground. But I’ll get you the codes. I want the money, and I don’t think you’ll pull it off.”

Randall bristled with resentment. The dickhead didn’t know how extensive his plans were. “I’ll transfer the funds, but you can’t tell Spencer. I will inform him, but not yet.”

Raff shrugged. “Not my concern.” He pointed at the nearby computer. “Send me the cash—I want to get back to the party. That new chick, Sonja, is hot.”

Randall resisted the urge to laugh back. Sonja was light-years out of Raff’s league. But not his. He could win her over if he wanted to. Hands trembling, he accessed both his personal account and their business account to pay Raff. Soon the money wouldn’t matter.

* * *

Still wearing her black skirt from the lunch date, Dallas felt overdressed. Most of the members wore shorts, T-shirts, or casual sundresses. Everyone had a warm smile, but no one stopped her as she headed for the wine table. To jumpstart her social wheels, she drank half a glass of red, then filled it again before turning to find Spencer. He was with Grace and another couple, who were in their mid-thirties.

Spencer squeezed her hand briefly as she walked up, then introduced her. “This is Tina and David Blackwell.”

Dallas shook their hands as Spencer kept talking. “Tina has a master’s degree in education and runs our school program. David is a biologist who keeps our fields and greenhouses thriving. Their two teenagers are members as well.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dallas gave a sheepish grin. “I don’t have your backgrounds, but I hope to make a meaningful contribution here too.”

Tina laughed softly and patted the engineer’s shoulder. “Grace is the brilliant one.” She glanced back at Dallas. “But we’re happy to have an educated and enlightened person want to join us.”

“Where did you go to school?” David’s tone was casual, but his eyes were serious.

“Arizona State. I majored in political science.” The truth was easy but not as much fun.

“Have you worked on any campaigns?” Tina asked.

“No, I got distracted by social media and ended up as a consultant to small businesses.”

Tina smiled. “Maybe you can use your skills to help us recruit others.”

“Why not?” Dallas gave it some thought. “I’d probably start by using Facebook’s new search filter to find specific postings about future scenarios.”

Another woman walked up. Her gray shoulder-length hair didn’t match her smooth, tanned face, and she wore a draped purple caftan with little underneath. “You must be Sonja. I’m Marissa Collins.” She held out a hand covered with rings.

Dallas shook it. “Beautiful turquoise.”

“Thanks. I love to wear my rings when I have the chance—most of the time I have to wear latex gloves.”

Spencer put an arm around Marissa. “This wonderful woman helps me take care of Lisa, in addition to working at a health clinic.”

Tina cut in. “We all help you take care of Lisa.”

Dallas thought she detected resentment.

“So true.” Spencer touched Tina’s arm. “I’m grateful to live in such a supportive community.”

David spoke up again. “And we appreciate the financial support you contributed to building our house.”

Interesting.
Dallas suspected the Claytons kept ownership of the land and homes. “How long have you been here?”

“Six years.” Tina turned to her husband. “We wanted to raise our boys in a safe, sustainable environment.”

Dallas wasn’t sure if she should ask the next question, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Do people ever get disillusioned and leave?”

Tina started to speak, but Spencer cut her off. “Not really,” he said. “Sometimes people have family situations that demand their attention, and one member left for a career opportunity she couldn’t pass up.”

Grace’s eyes flashed and she shuddered. “Remember Bruni? We had to kick him out because he couldn’t get along with anyone. That was our worst year.”

Dallas smiled at everyone. “Don’t worry. I play well with others. I promise.”

* * *

Randall strode down the path to the community center, waving at Marissa, who was coming from another direction. He usually enjoyed these gatherings, but this one—with Emma missing and so much on his mind—would be awkward.

Inside the no-frills building, about twenty Destiny members stood around chatting, some with drinks in hand. The student desks had been pushed to the back wall and padded folding chairs formed a circle, but no one sat in them yet. Bottles of wine were open on a front table, along with appetizers, but Randall headed for the kitchen area to grab a cold beer.

The members were chatting in small clusters, and everyone kept glancing at Sonja, the point of the gathering. Admitting a new person was a rare and important occasion. Everyone thought they had a vote, but the truth was, he and Spencer always made the call. This time, his brother had already made up his mind and pressured him to go along. It was time to meet Sonja in person.

She stood with Grace and the Blackwells near the refreshment table. As Randall walked over, he heard children’s voices in a side room that was stocked with toys and books. Randall experienced an unexpected longing for his baby son. He pushed it away.

Randall walked up, waited for an opening in the conversation, and introduced himself. He stuck out his hand and the young woman took it with a smile.

“Sonja Barnes.”

Damn, she was pretty. And familiar. “Have we met before? I used to be in politics.”

“I don’t think so.” She tilted her head. “Local or national?”

“I was mayor of Santa Carmichael, then ran for Congress. So a little of both.” Randall had mixed feelings about his past career. He’d been proud of his accomplishments—right up to the day he lost the election because of a hot-headed moment caught on camera.

“I studied political science at Arizona State,” Sonja said. “But I’ve become rather jaded about the effectiveness of our system.”

“We all have.” Then it hit him. Sonja looked like Spencer’s wife. Or like Lisa had before her battle with cancer. He glanced at his brother. Had he noticed?

Tina Blackwell jumped into the conversation but Randall wasn’t listening. The back of his neck prickled. Was it a coincidence that someone who looked like Spencer’s wife showed up at the community two days after posting on their blog for the first time? Was she a scammer, looking for a sugar daddy? A darker thought hit him. Could she be a federal agent looking for Emma?

Randall excused himself and hurried to find his brother. Spencer was in the small kitchen, pulling more appetizers from the refrigerator. Randall whispered, “We need to talk privately.”

“Now?” Spencer’s face was mellow with alcohol.

“Yes.” Randall stepped out a side door and Spencer followed. The sun was still bright on the horizon. “I know you like her, but I think we should hesitate before admitting Sonja.”

“Why?”

“It’s happening too fast. We’ve always taken more time and done a psychological evaluation.” Randall didn’t want to share his theory. Spencer would call him paranoid.