The Eighty Eighth Key Ch 64

Chapter 64

Callahan knew they were being tailed; he could feel it -- something almost like a tingling on the back of his neck. The sensation started as soon as they docked in Kahului and continued during the short taxi ride to the airport, and even as they boarded the United 757 for the flight back to SFO he found he wanted to turn and look over his shoulder. He asked Brendan's father if he could sit with the boy after take off, then he joined Eisenstadt while the crew got the main cabin ready for departure, but he watched people boarding to see who might look in any way out of place, or even like a threat.

"Do you feel it too?" Debra asked as he buckled-in and settled in his seat.

"Yeah, ever since we docked." He looked at Brendan across the aisle and the boy was lost, kind of smiling as he gazed up at the overhead bins, almost like he was entranced by something only he could see up there, and the sight actually puzzled -- and for a moment actually revolted -- Callahan. It was like the kid was tuned-in to an entirely different universe, one Callahan would never be able to see or experience, but he just couldn't tell if the things the kid was experiencing were real or a complete delusion.

"What's with him?" Eisenstadt added, nodding at Brendan. "He seems more agitated now than he did on the boat."

As they looked on, Brendan lifted a hand and the began using his fingers to work out a problem on a blackboard only he could see, and even one of the flight attendants looked at the kid and rolled her eyes. Brendan's father leaned over and looked at Callahan, his eyes full of fear-filled questions he was still too afraid to ask.

So Callahan leaned across the aisle and whispered in the kid's ear: "What is it? What do you see?"

"Seat twenty-six A," Brendan whispered in reply.

So Callahan leaned back in his seat and nodded. Could it really be? -- that whoever was following them was in seat 26A. 'Okay...so what now?' he asked himself. 'Oh, right, I call DD at the Cathouse...and we get a tail on our tail...' So with that decided, Callahan stood and put his carry on in the overhead bin, chancing a quick glance to the huge economy section -- but the cabin was packed and there was no way to tell row numbers from up in First, let alone who was sitting back there.

But then, just as Callahan took his seat again the kid leaned over and whispered again, and this time all he said was "Mossad."

+++++

Once the 757 leveled off Callahan walked back to the economy section and when he saw that row 26 on the left side was vacant -- save for a middle aged woman next to the window -- he went and sat down next to her, in the middle seat. She was wearing a scarf and huge sunglasses, but Callahan could see the woman had been seriously burned on her face and neck -- then she pulled her glasses down and turned to him.

"Hello, Harry," Didi Goodman said.

"Jesus, Didi, what the hell happened to you?" he sighed. He could see the results of reconstructive surgery -- both on her face and in her eyes -- and she seemed more than a little self-conscious of his reaction then, like she had expected it.

But she just shrugged. "How've you been?"

Callahan shrugged right back at her. "Okay. What are you doing here? I mean, I assume this isn't a coincidental meet?"

"You've been attracting a lot of attention. Some bad actors, I think you could say."

"Anyone I need to know about?"

She smiled evasively, then threw in another shrug -- just for good measure, he thought. "This isn't the time or the place," she said.

"People on this plane, I take it?"

And she nodded, carefully, slowly.

He shrugged, because he wasn't about to give up any information yet, and she still hadn't mentioned the baby, or why she was here.

"How's your father," he asked -- reluctantly -- not really wanting to open that can of worms.

"Frail. He's had two heart attacks, and he spends a lot of time at home."

"Retired?"

"Oh, he'll never retire, Harry. He's put all his eggs in your basket." Callahan must've thought that was an odd thing to say, at least that's what she saw on his face. "Can you have a helo pick us up at the gate?" she added.

"Sure."

"I need to go off-grid for a while, and I may need to take Brendan with me. You'll also need to get some additional security around your house."

"Well, sorry, but I guess I've blown whatever cover you had," he sighed.

"Oh, they know I know they're following me."

"I see."

"I don't think they were counting on Taggart heading straight to Seattle, however."

"Taggart?" he said, smiling blankly.

"You don't know him?"

Callahan shook his head. "Someone I should know about?"

"I'd assume so, yes, but they really want the boy."

"Oh? Why? I mean, he's a bit of a geek, if you get my drift...?"

"Not many people can see the things he can, Harry. He's actually rather important, as these things go."

"That's kind of hard to believe."

"Well, believe this: if they can't get to him they'll take him out."

He stopped and thought about that for a moment, then he started to get up -- but Didi stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Harry, could I ask you something?"

He sat again and sighed, then nodded slowly.

"You haven't asked about Ida. I assume you will never forgive us?"

"Oh, I think you could say that."

"We were trying to protect you, Harry. I know you'll never believe me when I say that, but it's the truth."

He wanted to ask her if she knew who'd shot him, but then he thought better of it. Knowing, in this case, might be more painful than not knowing, so he let that question go -- for now -- and nodded. "Okay, you say so," he said dismissively, and with that he stood abruptly and walked away, forward all the way to the head. He suddenly felt dirty as he stepped inside, but he did his business and washed his hands, then he looked down at his stainless steel leg and tried not to let his hate for her hate boil over -- because he knew then that she'd shot him.

Shaking with a rage too long repressed, when he got back to his seat he took the phone out of the seat back and dialed the Cathouse, then, while he waited for DD he asked himself -- again -- why hadn't Didi asked about the baby? Was it possible she didn't know? And...would Taggart's plan actually work -- or would the whole thing blow up in all their faces?"

+++++

She seemed to like riding on his back, holding on with her legs and playing with his ears as he walked through the marina. Sumner Bacon followed along a step or two behind, carrying their bags from the fishing boat and trying to keep up with Henry as he jog-walked out to the general's Swan 65, but the feeling of walking on solid ground was unexpectedly nauseating. After two weeks at sea, Bacon was homesick for the feel of terra firma underfoot, yet now here it was and he felt out of his element...

Not so Henry Taggart. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, Bacon thought.

Dana was still a little kid but she was growing fast, and now Henry resolved to spend more time with her -- just in case...

The three of them -- Sumner, Dana, and himself -- had remained onboard the sportfisher, concealed in the forward compartment while Callahan and Brendan's entourage disembarked in Kahului. A few minutes later the boat pulled away from the quay and returned to the open sea, heading out and around the west end of the island, bound for the tiny marina in Maalaea on the south side of the island.

The General had left the Swan there after the last Vic-Maui race, planning to sail out to Midway with his son after the race -- but almost predictably those plans had fallen through and the boat had been gathering barnacles there ever since. When Henry called the General and went over current circumstances, the Old Man had generously offered use of the Swan as part of the subterfuge, and it now appeared as if the plan might work, because so far there'd been no sign of a tail.

And there he was, just as Henry expected.

The General stood on the quay above the Swan, and ever the organizer he was waiting to get everyone spirited down below as quickly, and as unobtrusively, as possible.

Henry put Dana down on the pier and jumped aboard, then the General took her hand and helped her aboard...

"Henry? I thought you said you were dealing with a baby?" the Old Man asked as Bacon handed their bags to Henry.

"Are we ready to cast off the lines?" Taggart asked, avoiding the question.

The Old Man shrugged. "All tanks topped off and enough food for six weeks. We in a hurry?"

"Yessir, and we'll need to keep an eye out for bad guys until we get well offshore."

"Okay. I'll handle the bow lines. You got the stern?"

"Can't we stay just a little longer?" Sumner Bacon pleaded. "I was kinda hoping..."

"Sorry," Taggart said as he started the diesel and cast off the lines, gently backing out of the slip while he switched the radar to standby. He zoomed out on the chartplotter and found Ketchikan, Alaska, then the green number one buoy marking the Dixon Channel Entrance, and he set that as waypoint number one as they motored out of the marina.

Bacon and the Old Man helped Dana down to her very own stateroom while Taggart found binoculars and pulled it out of the cubby, and he scanned the marina and the few buildings in the area -- he saw nothing unusual, and no sign of a tail.

"And why would anyone follow us here?" he wondered aloud. "Who'd be crazy enough to finish up a 2,300 mile crossing and hop on another sailboat to make an additional 2,700 mile crossing?"

"I know I'm not. At least I wouldn't if I had any say in the matter," Bacon said as he crawled up the forward companionway, now shaking his head as he looked at the remnants of the hurricane speeding their way.

+++++

Debra had no clue. No idea who the middle aged man was, the one with the daughter, the one who had hopped aboard aquaTarkus at this last minute. She was only too glad for the help, yet whatever happiness she might have hoped for was cut short when she learned the man had only limited sailing experience -- as in sailing hardly anything, ever. But Henry had already laid in the course and the hurricane did indeed appear to be moving more to the north-northeast, so maybe they'd miss the worst of the heavy weather, and so what if she finished up the voyage without Henry. He'd been distant almost the entire trip, and the easy familiarity between them had given way to strained bits of odd silence here and there. She'd ended up spending almost the entire crossing holed up in her stateroom with Dana -- but now Dana was gone too, and all of a sudden she realized that Brendan was gone, too -- so that left these two strangers with her...

"I suppose we'd better introduce ourselves," the man said -- almost apologetically. "My name is Ralph, Ralph Richardson, and this is my daughter Dana..."

"Dana?" Debra stated, though perhaps a little too quizzically.

"Yes, that's me," the girl said, but Debra could see she was hiding deep pain behind her flat brown eyes.

Debra held out her hand and Dana took it, then Deb shook Ralph's as well. "So, you want to get me up to speed on all this, Ralph?"

But Ralph was turning green now and Deb recognized all the signs. "Here, take the wheel and concentrate on the horizon. Have you taken any seasick meds?"

"Nope," Dana sighed. "I think we're all out of stuff to throw up, anyway. It's just been the dry heaves for the last hour or so."

Debra hopped below and picked up a fresh box of omeprazole and a couple bottles of GatorAid, then she popped back up to the cockpit. "Here, take two of these," she said as she handed over the bottles.

"Heartburn medication?" Ralph asked. "What gives?"

"Seasickness starts when stomach acid ramps up as a result of all the unusual motion, so cut back on stomach acid and guess what happens?"

"Really?" they both cried.

"Yup, it works. Just keep focused on the horizon while the med gets to work." She took the wheel and resumed her course to clear Molokai, and she watched them suck down the electrolytic fluids and nodded. "You'll feel better in a half hour," she added. They were heeled pretty good to starboard so she let out the main a little and fell off the wind, too, and the motion settled down some more.

"The crash in LA?" Ralph said a few minutes later. "Were you there when that happened?"

"Yes?"

"My wife was the pilot in command."

"What? You mean...?"

He nodded.

"Jeez, I'm so sorry, but how on earth did you end up here?"

+++++

The General had brought along a friend, a twenty-something looking girl with long legs and wavy red hair, and Henry guessed she was the latest secret in a long line of secrets, but she was, apparently, a wizard in the galley and that was that. The General could have his peccadilloes, Henry thought, as long as he didn't have to lie about the matter.

But, as it happened, Tracy Abernathy was a bit more than a galley slave, or even a mistress, for that matter. She had been a graduate student interning at a "small software concern in Redmond" when she came up on the General's radar one evening. Her area of interest was AI, and as she was an emerging superstar in the field he had arranged for their paths to cross. He'd wanted to get her together with Taggart ever since, let Henry think on the matter for a while, but the General had been wanting someone to have a crack at decoding the flight control systems in the UAV -- and Abernathy might be the one to do it.

Then Henry had gotten pulled into Debra Sorensen's intrigues so he'd taken her out to the air base and shown her around, and yes, she'd been interested. After she'd freaked out for a few days, anyway.

She'd been working on capitalizing a start up before the crash hit in October, working with a broker at Lehman named Ralph Richardson, and he'd even been out to visit a couple of times before the bottom fell out and things went to Hell. Then she heard about his wife and the crash, and she'd called him. She found out he was headed to Goldman Sachs, and she'd wondered if he was still interested in putting together a deal?

She called him when he got back to New York, and of course he was. "Could you come out to Seattle?" she asked. "There are a few people I'd like you to meet."

"As long as I can bring my daughter. She's having a tough time right now..."

Then Henry had called the General. Henry told him all about events out on the Vincent Thomas Bridge. All about this weird baby thing. And because The General was always looking at The Big Picture he thought he saw a new pattern emerging in the chaos. He called friends who talked to friends at Goldman and suddenly Richardson was on extended leave, working on a special project for the Pentagon. He asked Tracy if she had any interest in sailing, and by the time Richardson and his daughter made it out to Seattle the rough outlines of a plan were taking shape. He'd known someone was going to have to get set up to capitalize on certain alien technologies, and while Boeing and Lockheed were well positioned to move on technologies surrounding flight, why not start up a new venture to cover...whatever of interest came up? Like flight control systems, maybe?

Henry was working at the chartplotter when the Old Man came topsides carrying a plate loaded with fresh, hot pastrami sandwiches -- Henry's current favorite -- and he sat down across from Henry and passed over half a sammie.

"Set your course for Hilo," the Old Man said.

"Hilo?"

"Yup. We won't be staying."

"Hell, sir, there ain't no place to stay there." He punched in the numbers and set the autopilot to steer while he munched on his pastrami.

"So. What's with the girl. Dana, you said?"

"Yessir. And she says I'm her father."

That was good for an arched eyebrow. "Her father? Well, obviously she's not quite human, is she?"

"Well, she's sure not a machine," Henry said, his feathers ruffled a little.

"So let me get this straight...you feel something -- for this...child?"

"You know, I haven't really thought all that much about it, but yes, I suppose I do."

"You've been out of the loop, Henry, so you'd better let me get you up to speed. The DoD is working overtime trying to figure out what happened out there on the bridge. There are videotapes, by the way. Classified, of course. The metal on the bridge was ionized in places. Theoretically impossible, I'm told. The EMP took out half of LA, from Oxnard to Dana Point, anyway. And a shitload of people saw that baby arrive."

"Okay," Henry said, still wondering where this was going.

"And you show up with a baby that looks, to my out of practice eye, to be about seven years old."

"You forgot to mention that she's cute as hell."

The General slowly shook his head. "Henry? She ain't human. Okay? You reading me?"

"Loud and clear. Who's the red head?"

"An expert in AI, DoD cleared. I want to bring her in on The Project, let her help you decipher the ship's computers."

"And...?"

"And then I want to capitalize on what we learn."

"I hear a discrepancy there, sir. Between the 'I want' and the 'we learn.'"

"None intended. You'll be in on the ground floor."

"Okay. What else don't I know?"

"Let's just say the situation is fluid right now, Henry. The more we learn about this situation the more complicated the way forward appears."

"Complicated? Why do I not like the way that sounds?"

"Well, it turns out there are at least two more ARV projects in the works. One in Israel, and the other in, well, a German enclave in Argentina."

"German enclave?"

"Well, you know the story. A bunch of Nazis bugged out when the Russians were closing in on Berlin, and a lot of their scientists settled in and around Bariloche. We recently found out there's an advanced ARV project down there, one with peculiar ties to shadowy groups both in Europe and here in the U.S."

"I'm sorry, but does Indiana Jones have anything to do with this? Or James Bond, perhaps?"

"What's with the cop?" the Old Man asked. "Can we talk around him?"

Henry shrugged. "He's smart, he listens, and he has balls. And Dana likes him, for whatever that's worth. I assume he'd be a liability if he returned to his old job."

"Okay. So, do we take him in or do we let him swim for it. Your call, Henry."

"Jesus, life isn't always so black and white..."

"The Hell it isn't. You know what's at stake here."

"Okay. He stays with Dana from now on. Call him a bodyguard, and make him an offer he can't refuse."

"Done," the Old Man said.

"What's with that Callahan character?" Henry asked. "How'd he get pulled into all this?"

"Apparently that kid, Brendan, called him. Callahan called the boy's parents."

"Okay. So...how'd he get here?"

"He called me."

"He called you? Like...out of the blue?"

"Uh-huh."

"What am I missing here, sir?"

"He knows stuff, Henry. I don't know how, but he does. I put people on him and then the Israelis get mad as hornets and tell us to back off. He's got clearances higher than mine, too, so I'm keeping my hands off him for now."

"No shit? You think he's a part of this Israeli project you mentioned?"

"Doubtful. He's holed up north of San Francisco. Spends most of his time playing piano, as far as we can tell, anyway."

"Any intel on the guy?"

"Standard package," the Old Man said. "You wanna read it, it's on my MacBook."

"Not important," Henry said, just as rolling thunder crashed overhead and lightning acred along the southern horizon. "You do know that going into Hilo will take us right into the middle of that goddamn storm, right?" he said, pointing at a band of dark clouds.

"Can't be helped," the Old Man sighed before he yawned. "You need a nap or anything?"

Henry thought about that for a split second, then he grinned. "Anything going on between you and the red head?"