The Hazing Tower (7 page)

She looked at the gun sitting on the beautiful dresser. Her gut told her she wouldn’t be needing it, at least not yet — not for Alex or Godfried. Minutes before, she had intended to arrest both of them and somehow take them to the police station. She had decided to wait. Memories were starting to return, memories of both of them helping her, not hurting her. The recollections were not clear yet, but something told her there was much more to all of this. And Dianne had said she – Nikki — was in danger if she returned home. Dianne always knew when something was off, when someone was bad. For some reason, Nikki felt safer here for now.

Godfried had given her Alex’s satellite phone after he passed out. She wondered if he had one here the whole time; for some reason, that made her smile again. She remembered she had to go outside to use it; she had used a sat phone a couple of times on the force for raids when no cell phone service was near. Sat phones needed a clear view of the sky to work well.

“Mikey, it’s Nikki — the crazy girl from the gas station today.”

“Nikki! Is everything OK?”

“Yes. I’m fine. You don’t need to call my friend.” She could hear him laugh. “Sure, this is like a spy movie! It’s the most excitement I’ve had in, well, forever!”

“Thanks, Mikey.”

She suddenly felt exhausted. She’d been running on pure adrenalin all day and it was starting to wear off. And for the first time in forever, she was in no pain. None. It felt like heaven. She walked back inside, locked the huge doors and went to the bedroom.

She looked to her side at the other bed. The room was huge. She must be crazy, totally crazy. She walked over and picked up the gun.
Just in case,
she said to herself.

She pulled the sheets over her. She hadn’t felt this good for as long back as her memory went. No pain. Her eyes started to close as she tried to focus on Alex in the bed next to hers.

Sleeping next to her abductor — Nikki, what are you doing? Then she remembered she was already dead. She fell asleep.

• • •

At first he had a reason, he had hope. Hope drove his obsession. That was long gone; now, there was no reason to continue. But he did, he always did. The radio snapped to life. He slowly pressed the selection for classical music; if he pressed too hard, it would go out again.

He didn’t even remember the drive. He had taken this route so many times.
Stupid,
he thought to himself. How could he be so stupid! He drove past the site and snapped back into focus. Had he been followed? Twenty years with the CIA and he forgets the drive; he really had lost his edge.

He drove in circles until he was sure he had no tail, then went back to the site. It looked like a normal warehouse from the outside.

He cleared through gate security and pulled into the “hangar,” as they called it. A couple of old airplanes, never used, were parked around him.

Walking through the side door, he stood in a dark hallway and waited. After about a minute, a door slid open where no door had been obvious before.

He was in.

“Sir! Wait until you hear this.” It was Jeremy. He tended to get very excited, but he was a genius with anything technical.

“Like I said, this better be good for 2 a.m.”

They walked over to a huge complex of computers. It was just the three of them, Hunter, Jeremy and Leonard, another tech guru who had the advantage of being able to translate geek talk into English.

Jeremy was beside himself. “OK, sir. So you were right about Dianne. I mean tapping her phone, sir. I don’t know how you knew, but it’s shocking.”

“Can we speed this up,” Hunter asked. He was starting to become interested.

“Sorry, sir. We got a hit; she got a call. And the voice, the voice you gave us, Nikki— the ESU member. Sir, it’s a 100 percent match — which is impossible, of course. She’s dead.”

Hunter didn’t seem bothered by that statement at all. “Did you trace it? Where was the caller?” He sat down now, fully involved in what he had just heard.

“It was
spiffed
, sir! And I mean spiffed in a major way.”

He sighed. “English, please.”

Leonard took over. “It was blocked. And by blocked I don’t mean caller ID; it was rerouted through an encrypted subnetwork. Sir, in summary, whoever did this, they are good.”

“How good?”

Leonard looked over at Jeremy. “Sir, it’s the best we have ever seen. The person that did this would be a genius. It’s a work of art; it’s better than anything we have at the agency, anything.

“It gets better. There’s more. So, we couldn’t trace the call, but we could do one thing, one of Jeremy’s tricks.”

Jeremy spoke excitedly. “We holed out and cold-called it.”

“What he means is,” Leonard added, “we were able to get the call that came from the same phone seconds before this call. It turned out it wasn’t a call. She picked up and started to dial, then stopped; that’s how we got it.”

“Play it.”

Jeremy started the playback.

Miss? Is the phone broken again...
Miss! Are you OK?

You! What’s your name?

Mike, everyone calls me Mikey.

Mike, Mikey, is this a sick joke?

It’s 2013. What is this?

Miss. I don’t understand. It is 2014.        It’s September 2014.

(Then the sound of a buzzer and a door closing,

then the call ended.)

Leonard and Jeremy both smiled with pride. They played the full call to Dianne for Hunter three times.

“Sir, here is where it gets really weird. So we figured it must be a tape of her, a recording, since she is dead. Get this. It’s not. It’s not a recording, not a copy; we ran the software on it, it’s real. Sir, that’s not possible; we read her file, just like you. She had a terminal genetic disease. She couldn’t be alive when this call was made; it’s not medically possible.”

“It’s possible,” Hunter responded, rubbing his eyes.

“Sir?” Jeremy asked.

“She isn’t dead.”

“But, sir . . . ”

He cut them off, “Here is what I want. One of you focus on the call. I want every sound analysis we have done on it. I want to know what season it is, what angle the sun is, what type of shoes she was wearing, everything. By the end of the week I want to know who manufactures that buzzer and where they are used. The other — you can draw straws to decide — I want to focus on Dianne. I want every resource we have watching her. She told Nikki to contact her again; when she does, I want everything. Make sure her cell is owned by us, nothing left out, nothing.”

They both nodded. He knew they were the best; that’s why he pulled them onto his team. If anyone could do it, they could.

“Sir, there’s something else,” Leonard added, almost whispering. “One thing we could track were pings, I mean people. There was another person tapping that phone.”

“Dianne’s phone at the station?” Hunter asked.

“No, sir, the mystery phone. The phone Nikki called on, someone had it tapped.”

Hunter nodded his head. “Let’s keep that part between us, OK?

“Guys, listen. This second tap: well, let’s just say I already had started to feel this was heating up. We need to go to level two.” The two techs both nodded.

“I understand if you want to move onto something else. I know you have kids, wives. This could get dirty fast.”

“No way,” the pair both said at once. “We need to see this through.”

Hunter walked slowly into his private office and shut the door. He pulled the blinds and swung out the board. He posted a picture of Nikki on the board. In the center was a faded black and white photo of a man and next to him a color picture of a gorgeous woman.

He talked to the wall almost every week. “Nikki, how are you involved in all this?” He actually felt he might be getting closer after all this time.

And clearly so was someone else. It could be CIA; it was very possible. They could have a whole separate team on this; doubtful though, they had given up on this a long time ago, considering it a dead end.

He looked back at the board. Maybe he should give it up as well. His reason for all of this was gone now. He sat down and pulled out the bottle. He had been mostly sober for a year now. His son would have been 10 in two days. He took a drink and closed his eyes.

• • •

She raised her gun, “Hey!”

Alex turned around, “Nikki, you’re awake.”

“Where’s Godfried?”

“He’s here. He never works on the weekend, but he insisted he be here today.”

As he spoke, Godfried entered the kitchen.

“Miss! I’ve been making you a special breakfast.”

“Godfried, I want to take a shower. Can you show me?”

“Oh, miss. I’m sure Sir Alex can help you . . . ”

She cut him off. “I want you to show me.” She realized she was using her gun as a pointer and lowered her weapon.

He beamed with pride at her comment.

“Of course, let me show you. I have a favorite shower, I think you will like it.”

Favorite?
she said to herself. So there are probably a hundred showers here.

She met Alex’s eyes. He looked worried, almost sad. She scowled at him. She felt bad after she did it, but what the hell! He went back to his work with the food.

Godfried showed her to a huge room, the most awesome shower room she’d ever seen. If she wasn’t in this situation she would kiss the floor.

“You don’t trust Alex, miss?”

“I trust you more.”

“I see.” He beamed again. “I assure you, he would never harm you, not in a million years.”

She sighed. “Would you mind waiting outside? I mean, by the door.”

“Of course not. Take your time. I put some clothes in the closet for you. I think they will fit; let me know if they suit your style.”

Godfried shut the door behind him. Nikki stepped out of her bright pink pajamas and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked good. Actually great. Her body was tone and tan. How was it possible? She was so sick before. Her skin had been pale. She had stopped looking at herself in the mirror toward the end.

Her gun was really becoming annoying. She set it on the vanity, figuring she might as well just give it to Godfried. She clearly had lost her mind and wasn’t going to shoot either of them; she still wasn’t sure why. She looked at herself again. It was like she was looking at a model; it couldn’t be her.

The water was like heaven, the perfect temperature. She lost track of time. The steam and heat filled her senses. Her mind slowed down a bit as she tried not to think about the insanity for awhile. Her mind had told her to run, run now! But something else told her the world had changed. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling; it made no sense. She was different. Something had changed inside her. She felt alive, energized. Her emotions seemed amplified, and then her senses, almost like a volume knob had been turned all the way up.

She thought about Alex. She actually hadn’t stopped thinking about him since she woke up the other day. He clearly could have killed her. They let her drive away, why? Was it a long con? A way to gain her trust? But that made no sense. She didn’t have any money; she was worth no ransom. None of it made sense.

Then there was the most pressing matter. She was dead. She tried to block it from her mind. The diagnosis had been clear; there was no cure. It had been almost a year, and yet she was stronger, healthier than she had ever been. It wasn’t possible.

She focused on slowing down her breathing and it calmed her. She focused on the steam and the glorious water, her mind clearing, the racing thoughts slowing down. She closed her eyes and let the water surround her.

Almost an hour must have passed. She shut the water off and stepped out onto the warm floor. She dried off and pulled on a thick white robe that was waiting for her.

It was like a wave, a huge wave hitting her all at once. She started to cry. She fell to her knees, put her head down and cried, uncontrollably. She saw it as if it was happening right then. She saw his eyes as he pulled her back to the ledge — the look of fear in his eyes, fear that she would fall.

“Miss! Are you OK in there? I’m going to call Sir Alex!”

Alex slowly opened the door. “Nikki, it’s me, Alex. May I come in?” He looked inside.

She nodded her head, she was sobbing and it shot through him like a knife.