He allowed himself a few seconds of horror, imagining what kind of death that would be, helplessly watching your plane and passengers fall to destruction while you flailed at dead, useless controls, unable to do anything. His mind flashed back to the gut-wrenching story of the Germanwings crash, and his own unbearable rage thinking about the terrorized captain of that flight, locked out of his own cockpit and pounding helplessly on the door as his suicidal copilot descended into the Alps.
To a lesser extent, Dan was fighting that same kind of rage and frustration, and he forced himself to slow his breathing and concentrate. He had a bit more than three hours, and he had to believe that anything that could be engineered into place could probably be reverse engineered. If only it wasn’t booby-trapped.
He slid down to the floor alongside the thing, watching it for a minute, letting his subconscious have a crack at his feelings, which were running amok.
The wave of hopelessness washed over him again, but for some reason he felt himself swim through it, rejecting its nihilistic conclusions. After all, an hour ago they weren’t even aware there was an offending cabinet full of control-stealing electronics. Now he was staring it in the teeth.
Wait a minute!
The new thought came unbidden, but the recognition was powerful and it caused a sharp intake of breath and a surge of hope at the same time. Dan sat up a bit straighter and followed the logic trail.
People don’t put warnings on invulnerable things! If it was impervious to disconnection, there would be no placard.
He could see the wires going in and could trace at least some of them to racks outside the cabinet that he could reach and wouldn’t shock him. If he could find the right wires, the right controls, and figure out which of the boxes inside the cabinet were connected to which ones on the outside, he had a chance.
No. No, it’s more than that! he thought, eyes widening. There is a key here, and something that they were afraid would be discovered. Something that CAN be discovered. It’s a freaking Easter egg hunt.
In other words, it wasn’t “if,” it was “how.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Beltway Plaza Mall, Greenbelt, Maryland (8:00 p.m. EST / 0100 Zulu)
“I’ve got you in sight, Jen. Take the first parking place and lock it up.”
She had to admit, Will Bronson’s voice was reassuring, not that she had the slightest idea what was happening, or whether she was falling into a trap like some silly little girl with daddy issues doomed by her own search for paternal protection. She had promised herself that she would never, ever be that girl.
“Okay.” She punched off the phone, slid the car into an empty space, and got out, locking it with her remote and then standing there feeling very off balance. She could see no cars with drivers looking for her. Where was he?
Will Bronson’s deep voice reached her ears from inches behind.
“This way, Jenny.”
She yelped and whirled around, wide-eyed.
“Oh my God!”
“What?”
“Don’t EVER sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry,” he said, taking her arm and moving them toward an entrance to the mall.
“There are about twenty-one different movies playing tonight,” he said somewhat breezily, “…but I thought we’d eat first. What would you like?”
“Seriously?”
His head was on a swivel, looking in all directions as they crossed the lane to the entrance, and she was certain he wasn’t just scanning for traffic.
He held the door open, smiling as she moved inside.
“I thought we’d duck into one of the restaurants in here,” he continued, “…or if all you want is McDonald’s, we can do that as well.”
Jenny took his arm and stopped him, turning him around to face her.
“Really? This is a flash date?”
A virtual anthology of reactions played subtly across his face, the dominant one a shadow of sadness as he shook his head no and replied yes.
“Of course it is. I have friends who own this mall, so there’s a private entrance into my favorite place. Come on.” She followed him at an accelerated pace down the half-empty corridor, keeping pace in her high heels to an unlabeled side door which he held for her, slipping in behind as it closed.
Before them was a loading dock and a black SUV waiting with engine running and no one else in sight. Will opened the right side door and Jenny climbed inside, and just as quickly they were moving out of the loading dock into the night.
“Okay… I owe you some explanations.”
She turned to face him, eyes wide. “Ya think? Your favorite restaurant? This is the strangest pickup I’ve ever had!”
“Jenny… please. Another place, another time, I’d give anything to just take you out. Right now we have a mutual problem.”
Dammit! she thought, tears welling up for about a half dozen reasons as she struggled to hold them back. “Okay… Will… if that’s your real name…”
“It is. Will Bronson. And I am with DIA, just as I told you.”
“So, what haven’t you told me?”
“The signal we were chasing together all afternoon?”
“Yes?”
“It came from NSA’s building.”
She was nodding, and it was his turn to look puzzled. “I know.”
“You do?”
“I figured it out just before you called. I traced the coordinates but didn’t put them on a map until I was in the car. I saw that report, too, that the airliner’s pilots can’t control the direction of the aircraft. But… how did you know?”
“Later. Jenny, there’s more, and this is shaping up to be a very big problem. The White House is alerted, my people at DOD are on high alert, and to find that the initiating signal came from our own NSA is what sent me out the door.”
She stared in his eyes closely, uncomfortably for a few seconds. She’d always been told that trying to read the soul of a trained agent by looking in his eyes was a fool’s errand, but she had to try.
“You’re not sure who to trust either?”
He was nodding. “DIA is a bit of a schizoid agency. Our overlords wear uniforms with high rank, we’re controlled by the civilian side, and I’ve seen us sent on useless errands before to keep us busy while the brass does whatever the brass wants to do.”
“In other words, this could be a clandestine military operation not even you guys know about, and an illegal one at that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m worried, and you and your boss are targets if so.”
“Whoa. You mean… we’re in physical danger? From our own government?”
“I doubt… physical… but clearly professional danger.”
“And, you’re the one who’s going to keep me safe, right?” she shot him a slightly incredulous look.
“I’m damn well sure going to try.”
“Why?”
Seeing such a confident man suddenly flustered, even for a second, was startling. He recovered as quickly.
“Two reasons. I like your insight, and this is a puzzle one does not solve alone. Second, if you’re a damsel in distress, it’s my nature.”
“Thank you, Lancelot.” It was only half sarcastic, and clearly he took it right.