Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 (37 page)

The colonel's team had done a thorough job
of collecting fingerprints and evidence, all of which had been
delivered to Malik Ghazini, who was Eddie's forensic scientist, at
the workspace he was given on base. It had most of what he needed,
but some of the more detailed analyses would require more
specialized equipment. Doctor Alan Gentry, the team’s medical
examiner, had wasted no time at the local civilian hospital
conducting an autopsy on Captain Benny Walsh.

“Agent Perez, Colonel Talbot needs to see
you at the Quik Mart, sir,” a young eager- looking lieutenant
informed him.

Eddie took one last look around. “Very well.
Get this place cleaned up so they can open the road.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he arrived at the store, he saw several
trucks on the lot. There was a tent near the front door of the
building where the drivers were being detained. Dozens of Air Force
personnel scurried about doing various tasks. As he got out of the
car, Eddie noticed that one of the semis was parked next to the
building where the secret entrance was.

Talbot met him at the car. “Okay, Special
Agent, the scene is yours and I am at your disposal,” he informed
Eddie stoically, accepting the order to turn the investigation back
over without question.

“What have you found so far?”

Talbot smiled. “I’ve found some relief that
all this is back on your shoulders. Other than that, we had to
break into the store. It was deserted. We dusted for prints and
found … well, a lot. It
is
a convenience store.”

“Well, all the employees were your people.
They probably buttoned things up and went underground.”

“No, sir. Not my people. I knew nothing
about this place. We did find this, though.” He handed a laminated
parchment to Eddie.

“A bankruptcy notice?”

“Taped to the front door.”

“Not very convincing.”

“I figure somebody just put it there to fool
imbeciles,” the colonel stated matter-of-factly. “We found what we
think is one of the entrances to the complex inside an office, but
we haven’t figured out how to open it yet.”

“Mather’s office. It has to be opened from
the inside.” He looked at the colonel. “Do you have any C-4?”

“Left it in my other suit.”

Eddie headed toward the truck on the east
side of the building. “I never went in through the office. But I’m
pretty sure I can find the other entrance.”

Watching Eddie, Talbot followed. “All the
civilian drivers claim they're just working stiffs. But something
about them just don't smell right.”

“Trust me, Colonel. They don't know much,
but they know something. They're all civil service. The driver of
this truck knows the most.” Eddie gestured to the semi parked next
to the building's east side. “You didn't check inside?”

“It's all civilian property. We can't touch
it without probable cause.”

“I can,” Eddie assured him.

“This many people, this well organized. How
high up does this thing go?”

“To the stratosphere, Colonel.”

“Call me Jim.”

TIONG AWOKE WITH A
pounding headache.
He could tell, even through the chemically induced haze, that he
was in a dimly lit room.
Was it a room?
It felt like it was
moving. There was a high-pitched hum. Maybe truck tires speeding
down the highway. He could hear the sound of a compressor as it
kicked on somewhere behind him. There was a vibration, shaking now
and then, and it was cold enough that he could see his breath.
Through the brain fog, he tried to recall and make sense of the
recent events as they had happened.

Someone had alerted him and told him that
Rob was in some kind of distress, and then there was a mad dash to
get him and the newly awakened clone out of the complex, and get
Rob to a hospital. He and the professor had been left behind, along
with most of the security personnel, and two of the NCIS agents,
Geri Hughes and Cal Warren. The captain and the others had left in
the transfer truck. Soon after, four armed men dressed in black and
a fifth man in a business suit had entered the facility. They had
taken Stan and Jackie captive, and then they had herded everyone
into the parlor where they tossed in canisters that spewed some
kind of gas, choking them and then … he was here. He rubbed his
eyes and then immediately regretted it as the residue of the gas
that was already stinging his eyes intensified. Then he noticed the
soreness in his left arm. As he rubbed his bicep and inspected the
area as best he could in his dim surroundings, he discovered
multicolored welts as well as several needle marks that had scabbed
over. A single incandescent bulb in the center of the ceiling
illuminated the enclosure.

Scanning around, his eyes came to rest on a
bottle of aspirin that was on the metal floor next to the mattress
he was laying on. He removed the blankets that covered him and
slowly sat up, making the throbbing in his head increase. Wrapping
the blankets around him to ward off the cold, he picked up the
aspirin and scanned about. “I’m in a truck.”

He was still unable to completely focus. He
rubbed his temples, and then heard an unfamiliar voice with a thick
southern drawl. “Take some aspirin. It'll help.”

Startled, he looked unsuccessfully for the
voice, immediately regretting the sudden movement. “Who is
that?”

“I guess ya can call me … Schultz. Yeah,
call me Sergeant Schultz.”

“Sergeant Schultz?”

“Yeah, like from
Hogan’s Hero's
.
Wadn't he the one who always got tricked into doing all the dirty
work?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Where am I?”

“Oh, don't worry, Doc. Yer among
friends.”

Popping the lid off the bottle, Tiong dumped
a few of the pills in his hand and looked around. “Well, that's
good to know. I'd hate to be in the back of a truck, waking up from
a chemically induced coma”—he glanced at his bicep—“having been
drugged against my will, going who knows where with a guy who
wasn't friendly. That would be tragic. I don't suppose that you
have any water?” Before he finished speaking, he heard something
sliding across the floor. A bottle of darkly colored Gatorade
bounced off the mattress. “I only like the green kind.”

The disembodied voice chuckled. “That
stuff's better for ya 'n water.”

“I guess it would be kind of pointless to
ask if it's safe to drink.”

“If we wuz gonna poison ya, we could’a done
that while you wuz asleep. Don't worry, Doc. Where y’all are goin',
they made it real clear they want you alive and healthy.”

“Oh yeah, and where's that?”

“To be honest, I don't know where y’all are
gonna end up. But if I did, I'm perty sure they'd want me to keep
it a surprise.”

Tiong smiled. “You know, you said I was
among friends and I have to admit that, although I've never been
kidnapped
before, you have to be the friendliest
kidnapper
in the state, if not the entire country. Really,
if any of my friends ever wants to be
kidnapped
, I'm
recommending you. Do you have a resume' or something I could take
with me?” When he finished, his eyes, finally adjusting to the low
light, came to rest on the man sitting on the floor about ten feet
away leaning against one of four large crates stacked two high and
marked “Caution: Live animals.” He was wearing blue jeans and a
plaid button-down shirt. Lying on the floor next to him was some
kind of long gun. A rifle or shotgun, Tiong guessed.

“Aw, Doc. That stung just a little bit. I
didn't kidnap ya. I'm just keepin' y’all company fer the ride. Are
ya hungry? I've got some jerky and granola bars.”

“No, thanks. Don't have much of an appetite
just now.” Tiong looked around the trailer. He noticed what he
thought was a pile of blankets in the corner, but upon closer
inspection he saw a hand sticking out from under them. He started
to crawl towards it and checked to see if his captor would
object.

“I hope he's okay. Don't know what they used
on the little feller, but he hasn't moved since they put him
there.”

Tiong checked for a pulse as he pulled the
blankets off of the unconscious form of Professor Yeoum Chi.
Finding a strong, steady heartbeat, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“How long have you had us in here?”

“Tsk, tsk, now, Doc. You ask a lot of
questions. Are you always like that?”

“Only when I don't know things. I'm funny
that way.”

“Well, just relax. We got a long way to go.
I got some cards and a checker board so we don't get too bored on
the way.”

“To where? Oh, I forgot, you don’t
know.”

Schultz shrugged. “They never said where
they wuz takin’ y’all. I just know we’re droppin’ y’all off at the
docks.”

“The docks … as in a shipyard?”

“Yup.”

“What shipyard?”

Schultz took a swig from his own bottle of
Gatorade. “We're headin' to the sunshine state, Doc.”

“Florida?”

“Naw, California.”

“That would be the golden state, Sarge.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Why California?”

“Shoot! That's a easy one,” Shultz laughed.
“We're goin' to California 'cause that's where I'm gettin'
paid.”

* * * * *

THE NEEDLE ON THE GAS
gauge was
floating between empty and the one-quarter full mark as the Torino
passed the sign in the darkness that read “Apalachicola City
Limits: Population 2,207.”

Rob whispered the Lord's Prayer just loud
enough for June to hear as he guided the car down the street. He
had an eerie feeling of familiarity, seeing the sights and smelling
the salty air. It brought back memories of his exploits in the
Navy, as well as childhood vacations at the beach.

Against June’s initial objection, they had
decided it would be best to drop the dog off around the corner from
the convenience store before they had resumed their trip. He could
have been good company, and he may have been useful if they ran
into any undesirables, but he had a family. They couldn’t take the
kid’s car and his dog, too.

The clock on the archaic instrument panel
was broken, its hands stuck on 4:29, but by June’s reckoning, it
was sometime after 11:00 p.m. She watched Rob scanning the town, a
puzzled look on his face as they moved at a snail’s pace down Prado
Street. Thankfully, the traffic was light, even for the tourist
community on this summer evening.

“Anything familiar?” she asked.

“Everything's familiar. I just don't have
any idea why.” The feeling in the pit of his stomach was guiding
him, and nothing else. He could feel an approaching intersection
beckoning him to turn north. He clicked the turn signal on.

June remained silent as he turned on to 25th
Street and proceeded nine more blocks, turning left onto Bluff
Road. Rob’s eyes searched the signs above the businesses on the
right side of the road, squinting to see in the low light. Before
long he found what he was looking for and turned into the
driveway.

June read the sign. “Bluff Road
Storage.”

They came to a stop in front of a metal
gate. Out the driver’s window was a small keypad on the wall with a
sign that read “24 Hour Access. Input Your Pin Here.”

“What’s your pin?” she asked.

He gave her an uncomfortable smile. “I have
no idea.”

All at once, a series of numbers flashed
into his head. He tapped them in, and to their amazement, they
heard the sound of an electric motor as the gate slid open.

The place was dark. There were some lights
mounted to the metal structure, but most of them were broken or
burnt out, making them dependent on the headlights of the Torino.
They drove slowly in, taking note that the gate closed again once
they were clear.

“How did you—?” June started.

He shrugged. “Look around for a
flashlight.”

“How did you know that code? Have you been
here before?”

Rob turned his attention to the numbers
painted on the locker doors, not sure which one he was looking for.
“Apparently.”

They reached the end of the driveway and
followed the building around to the right. June found a flashlight
underneath the seat. She clicked the button and shined its light at
the numbers over the doors as they passed them.

Rob was getting frustrated. He had no idea
how he knew the pin code to open the gate. He repeated the numbers
over and over to himself, trying to find any significance to the
combination, until he realized that there was a familiar pattern.
He stomped on the break, bringing the car to a stop with a jarring
jolt and looked into June's wide eyes.

“Did you find the one that you're looking
for?” She asked, just a bit unnerved.

“Four, six, zero, two, four, zero.”

“Huh?”

“Zero, four, two, zero, six, four.” He said
the numbers in reverse. “April twentieth, nineteen sixty-four! Holy
cow. That's Carol’s birthday!”

“Carol … your wife, Carol?”

“Yup. I
have
been here before. But
when?”

“Are you getting your memory back?” she
asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “I don't know. On the
road I was having flashes, images of things here in town.
Buildings. Signs, like the one out front. But I can't make sense
out of most of them.”

“Any idea what unit you're looking for?”

“Not a clue,” he answered as he inched the
Ford forward.

They completed another circuit, and then
they rolled to a stop in front of unit number forty-eight. Rob shut
off the lights, but left the car running. He climbed through the
window with June following close behind. She was hoping for another
keypad, but instead, hanging there on the latch was a heavy-duty
combination lock.

“You must know it. Maybe it’s the same as
the gate,” she said.