The Amazon Code (9 page)

The video ended, abruptly, and Ben wondered if there was supposed to be more to it. He almost asked, but Amanda and Paulinho seemed more concerned with the files tucked away in each of the folders.
 

“What’s the ‘golden man?’ Julie asked.
 

Paulinho seemed stumped as well, so they all waited for Amanda to respond. When she did, she turned to her left to address all of the small SUV’s occupants.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. A man, completely gold-colored, that we’ve been observing.”
 

“Like
watching
?” Paulinho asked.
 

“Yes, but in our subjects’ dream-states. They have dreams, we observe the dreams and record what video we can, and then discuss the results when they wake up. But in some of our subjects we’re seeing this golden man. He’s always looking directly at us.”
 

“How is he looking at you?”
 

“Well, technically it’s an impression from the subject’s subconscious imaging. Their mind is preparing the image of the golden man, and they are preparing it in a way that the man is always looking directly at the subject — what we have been calling the ‘camera.’”
 

Ben shuddered. The research they were doing at NARATech was even creepier than he’d initially thought. Recording dreams? ‘Watching’ peoples’ memories?

“This golden man has been the subject of much debate in my company for the past month. We couldn’t figure out why he shows up in only some of our patients’ memories, and why the patients themselves have no idea who he is.”
 

Ben leaned forward in the chair. “Wait a second — the patients don’t
know
about the golden man?”
 

Amanda shook her head. “No. They’re completely clueless, and sometimes even argumentative when we show them the playback of the recording. They’re adamant they’ve never seen the man before.”
 

They sat in silence for a moment, taking it all in. They turned left onto a long, dirt road, and Amanda spoke again. “What’s more, our technology isn’t strong enough to clearly transpose all of the electrical signals output by the brain. We generally get close, and we can tell, for example, that a subject is walking down a street, or driving, or at a party, but we can’t see faces clearly, and most objects are blurry shades of light.”
 

Ben waited for her to say, ‘
but.’

“But,” she said, “the golden man — when he shows up — is
always
perfectly in focus. Every time, without fail. No matter where in the images he appears, he’s perfectly outlined, and we can even see his facial features.”
 

Ben had almost forgotten that Reggie was in the front seat, driving, until he spoke up.
 

“Sounds like you’ve stumbled on something worth killing for. I’d say you’re in over your head, but I’m no expert.”
 

14

JULIE WAS SHAKEN, BUT DID her best to keep her fears hidden. If Ben had taught her anything, it was that no good could come from broadcasting your fears and insecurities to the world. She wasn’t sure she completely believed him, but she had to admit that forcing herself to calm down, breathe, and exude confidence instead of weariness was at least helping her keep cool in the situation.
 

So far, they’d been shot at, nearly blown up, threatened, and chased, and there was no sign that it would stop anytime soon. Julie wanted to go home, to go back to their quaint, beautiful, and simple cabin in the woods deep in the heart of Alaska, but she knew she couldn’t.
 

As Ben said, there were problems you ran from, and problems you didn’t. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it always seemed to make sense in the situation. So far they’d only experienced the type of problem you weren’t supposed to run from, and this “problem,” she knew, was also that type of problem.
 

Ben was probably the most stubborn person she’d ever met, save for her father and grandfather, but Ben was definitely the closest to her. He’d made it his mission to find Drache Global, Drage Medisinsk, or Dragonstone, whomever they might be, and bring them to justice. It was a long shot, and it was likely going to get him killed, but there was nothing she could do to convince him of that.
 

She’d even tried leaving, but she couldn’t do it. Hours of arguing and slamming doors had taught her that there was
nothing
that could force them apart, except, ironically, death. It was an interesting game, fighting about something that might lead to death, but being unable to win the game without actually dying.
 

She thought about that now, as the SUV pulled onto the fourth and final dirt road, this one a long driveway that led to a run-down shack sitting in the middle of nowhere. It was unbelievably small, no more than ten feet wide, and Julie had to do a double-take when she realized it was the only real building in the area.
 

Surely we’re not going there?
 

A large hill rose up from behind the house, casting it in an even deeper shadow than the night was able to provide. Set a good distance away from the house, Julie could see a lone light, affixed to a tall pole, gently illuminating a tiny four-walled structure, in a pale yellow glow. This building, too small to be anything more than a simple storage shed, sat next to a long, covered area lined with picnic tables, plastic chairs, and chest-high wooden benches.
 

“The shooting range is to the left, and the survival course’s main camp is directly behind the house, going up and over the hill.” The man driving, the former Army sniper Paulinho had introduced as Reggie, motioned with his head as he described each station. “We use the range year-round, but I’m only running a winter course right now. Better weather for it, I guess, so people were only signing up then.” He chuckled, then grinned. “Kind of seems pointless to me, to only prepare for the worst during the best time of year.”
 

He pulled up to the shack, and Julie could see that it was completely dark inside. The only light in the entire area, actually, was the light pole near the shooting range. Reggie put the car in park, then turned to address the occupants inside with him. “Stay here a sec, while I disable the defense system. Shouldn’t be any trouble, but it’s outdated, and I can’t afford an upgrade right now.”
 

While he said it, he pulled out his phone and opened an app. “Also,” he added, flicking around on the screen of his phone with an outstretched index finger, “let there be light.”
 

With a dramatic flourish, he poked at the screen and the entire compound was brilliantly lit up in daylight-bright white light.
 

Julie involuntarily brought her arm up, shielding her eyes, while Amanda and Paulinho gasped audibly.
 

Reggie laughed again. “Impressive, no? One of the best home defenses you can invest in is great lighting. Anyone sneaking onto my property in the middle of the night will have to be invisible if they don’t want to be seen.”
 

He tilted his head to the side. “Actually, I take that back. They’d still be seen. They just wouldn’t know it until the
other
defenses kicked in.”
 

No one in the SUV asked what the ‘other defenses’ were, and Julie was partly glad they didn’t. She hadn’t been able to decide if she trusted Reggie or not, though he had been the one who’d saved them from the terrible onslaught at the hotel. Part of her wanted to trust the man, but another part of her seemed to sense the hesitation in Ben, and borrow it from him.
 

After a minute of playing with his phone, Reggie finally looked up and unlocked the car doors. “Great. I think that’s most of them. Home sweet home.” He pulled the handle and exited the vehicle. Paulinho did as well, followed by Amanda, then Ben and Julie. It felt good to stretch her legs, but she could also feel the fatigue of adrenaline and lack of sleep finally setting in. Whatever the plan was, she hoped it involved sleeping — safely — for a few hours at least.
 

“Let’s get you all inside, then figure out this ‘golden man’ stuff,” Reggie said. He led the way into the miniature home, the four others trailing behind, still skeptical. He paused at the front door, turning around. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” Reggie poked out a sequence of numbers on a tiny numerical lock control mounted above the door handle, and the door clicked and swung open.
 

Julie reached the door next, followed by Ben and the others, and she stopped at the threshold. Reggie had disappeared.
 

She stepped a foot into the building and then saw a staircase to her left, strategically hidden from view from outside the house. Reggie popped his head up the stairs. “Come on,” he said. “Ain’t got all night.” The man’s head disappeared again from view, and Julie followed.
 

The stairs turned once, then opened up a flight below the floor into a strikingly different setting. A basement room, easily three times the size of the main building above her, awaited. A couch, two armchairs, and a well-appointed bar faced her, spaced out nicely against the backdrop of a beautiful, early nineteenth-century English decor. Wallpaper, crisply glued and in perfect condition, covered the three walls she could see, and an arched entryway led further into the dwelling.
 

“My ex-wife put most of the furnishings in here. I’m a stickler for order and cleanliness, so I probably would have made it look like a hospital room if it were up to me.” Reggie was already behind the bar, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He swished it around in the glass as the others joined Julie downstairs, and he held it up to them. “You’d actually be surprised at the quality in beverage choices here,” he said. “Good enough to make any American proud.”
 

He held up the glass, a signal of offering to the rest of the group, but only Ben obliged. He stepped up to the front of the bar, pulled out a gorgeous solid wood barstool and sat on it. Reggie seemed more than pleased to pour the man a drink, and Ben held it up, inspecting the color.
 

Julie thought the two of them might completely disregard the rest of the team, consumed by their love for fine spirits, so she cleared her throat.

Amanda walked closer to the bar. “Mr., uh — Reggie…” Reggie looked up but didn’t offer his last name to the woman. “Sorry… I mean, thanks. Thank you for what you did back there.”
 

He nodded, scrunching his face slightly to exaggerate the expression.
 

“But, we, uh…” her voice trailed off.
 

“I know,” he said, interrupting the awkward silence. “You need to find out who wants to kill you.”
 

Her eyes widened slightly, probably surprised at the man’s bluntness, but then she nodded.
 

“Yep, working on it.”
 

Julie watched the man pour himself another glass, then refill Ben’s. He carefully placed the bottle back on the rack it came from, the unlabeled decanter facing perfectly out toward the room. He turned back to Ben. “That’s a 1970, and it goes down about as well as anything twice the price. I know the guy who makes it — local, actually.”
 

Julie watched as Ben closed his eyes and took a long sip.
 

Unbelievable.
 

Ben was the type of man who could so focus on one thing she often thought there was something wrong with him. She often told him he’d die one day pushing himself too hard, unable to quit when he needed a break. The only two things she’d ever known to be able to break him from his focus was herself, offering something he couldn’t provide on his own, and a good glass of whiskey.
 

And this glass of whiskey must have been particularly good. He’d essentially blocked out everything else around him, taking in the aroma, then the taste, then the feel of the liquor.
 

He looked at her, and she raised her eyebrows.
Done?

He snapped out of it. “Sorry, just… it’s good.”
 

She wanted to smack him. “I’ll get a bottle of it for you before we leave.”
 

“No, can’t do that,” Reggie said, unaware of the unspoken fight going on between Ben and Julie. “It’s local, but it’s not actually for sale. Sorry. I might be able to —“

“Listen, Reggie Whoever You Are. We’re really thankful that you’re here and all, and that you’ve taken us in to your underground safe house, but we
really
need to figure out who’s behind all of this. And I —“

Reggie held up his pointer finger, giving Julie the immediate urge to smack him as well. “We’re already working on it.”
 

This time, Paulinho, Amanda,
and
Ben seemed surprised.
 

15

“I FORWARDED THE FILE FROM Amanda’s phone to my own online storage system when you were sleeping.” He reached below the bar and pulled out a shiny silver remote control. Pressing buttons on it, Julie watched as a huge projector screen rolled down from the ceiling and onto the wall nearest Ben, opposite the couch. “Wasn’t any trouble, since it wasn’t encrypted anyway. Still wouldn’t have been, since I’ve got…”
 

Reggie realized the others were staring at him.
 

“Look, I’m not a hacker. It was easy enough. The point is that I wanted to have it ready to queue up here in the house, so we wouldn’t have to wait around any longer. Grab a seat, let’s figure this out.”
 

He grabbed his glass and headed over to one of the armchairs. Ben and Julie followed, and soon they were all seated facing the giant screen. True to his word, Reggie had gotten the video and other files downloaded onto whatever computer he had hidden in the house, and the main video was loaded up and ready to go.
 

“We don’t need to see this again, correct?” he asked to no one in particular. When no one answered, he hit a button and went back to a directory listing of the other files. Clicking the first one, he sat back in the chair, relaxing into the comfortable plush of the upholstered furniture piece.