Criminal Intent 9MM Truth on a Stick

By S.P. Gallatin

Tom doesn't have employees, it's more akin to prisoners.

Sam Garrison wants his freedom, but the price is stiff. He stumbled on something which could free him. If he fails, Tom's retribution could be too horrid to even consider. Death isn't the least of it. 

The little drive packs a big punch, but it is enough

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing
• Release date: Oct 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9780578634128

S.P. Gallatin

There are many Alaskans who crave privacy. It's hard to get some of them to come out from under the camo. Sean P. Gallatin has been pulled out, but not without a fight. Musician, and part of the medical field, he has lived in Alaska for most of his life. Not all of Alaska is beautiful scenery and wholesome hikes. Alaska has a dark side like any other place in the world. Sean has seen a lot of odd things from the stage and the seat of his Harley.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Dr. Clark Higgins sighed.

He knew I wasn’t quite getting it, and so did I.

"Let’s run through it again. This is not a thumb drive." The red haired, red bearded bespectacled man pointed at a thumb drive in a laptop.

It had taken an infiltration op worthy of the GIA, or an awesome long con to pull off, but we had gotten the drive past high-tech security and out of the super-secret lodge run by August Peterson just off the Denali Highway. I had managed an op which got Sandy inside the lodge, then got her, the drive, and Della Jones out without fuss.

We even scored Munk Riley a well-paying job there. I was proud of the op, but aside from what Munk paid, it wouldn’t be worth shit to me if the drive was useless. There had to be something important on it. The lodge had security which would have made Area 13 proud. They had searched all the staff, quarters, and personal effects to find the drive, to no avail.

Getting Sandy employed there and having her supervise Della, then Sandy keestering the thing out was pure genius. When I took the job of getting Della out, I gambled there might be something useful on the drive that could get me out of debt with Tom Halgren. If I could find something that could settle up with him, then I might have a chance for a life again instead of getting outright killed someday.

I looked at Clark. So, what the fuck is it?

It’s a supercomputer, and from what I can tell, a fucking quantum computer at that.

"I got that."

He looked at me over his glasses. How did you get your hands on this?

You remember Sandy?

"Allie’s beach blonde goddess sister who looks exactly like the viral ‘Girl on the Pier Selfie’ model from Criminal Intent 8 Felony Counts? But can kill me with her pinkie finger?"

The very one. I described the op. I didn’t have a lot of secrets from Clark. We went way back, and I wanted him to understand the danger he was in: Tom, government agencies, mercenaries, and Sandy—if he ever blew her cover.

Wow! Now he looked at the drive with awe. He'd met Sandy before, and to be honest, Sandy should have been a supermodel instead of a soldier. This was up her ass?

Yup. Wrapped in plastic and a condom, with a string tied to it. Which, by the way, is the closest you or I will ever get to that ass. She’s a lesbian. Or so Allie says, and so it would seem. You should see Marta, her wife. Smokin’ hot brunette, with loooong legs- and an MBA. Marta's the only person who beats my ass in chess with sickening ease.

Clark shook his head. I’m suddenly jealous of a computer.

What I don’t get is, how can it be a computer? Much less a supercomputer? Shouldn’t it be at least the size of a cell phone?

You would think, Sam. But what you’re holding in your hand is beyond next level. This changes the rules of the game. All games. Any game.

How?

What’s the most valuable thing in our universe?

Information, I said. Not just he-said-she-said type of shit, but what direction atoms spin and the way gravity and energy come together to brighten our solar system.

Surprise overtook Clark’s face. Uh, yeah. Like that.

I watched the Dr. Joltz Show the other night. I enjoyed watching Clark squirm at the thought of Dr. Michael Joltz Jolitz on TV. Clark had been passed over for the role due to his lack of people skills. When you have a few atoms doing the work for you instead of a board full of chips, you don’t need much, I guess.

He regained his composure. Uh, yes. That’s true. All joking aside, this is evolution made real, Sam.

I sighed. Just give me the breakdown, will ya? Assume I know nothing about computers.

Okay. Have you ever heard of a quantum computer?

Heard something about one on some cable show. Supposed to be the ‘coming thing.’ Is this one?

Yeah. Just one problem. Supposedly, no one’s built one yet. At least, not like this anyway. It’s like sustained nuclear fusion or going to Mars, it’s always another twenty years away... until now. He released it from the computer and handed it to me.

I turned the drive/computer over in my hand. It was some form of black plastic edged in white. The white edging glowed green when it was inserted into a port. Every time I picked it up, it felt warm to the touch.

Clark continued. The laptop I plugged into has the wireless communications system physically disabled as a precaution. Sure enough, it tried every form of communication it could when it recognized there was no hard wire connection. Don’t ask me how, but the thing’s been running the entire time. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his t-shirt, shaking his head. That’s why I was able to get in so easily. It was on and open. I’ve since set us up with passwords we can use.

He put his glasses back on and told me my password. It was easy to memorize.

Here’s the proverbial rub—we don’t even have the science down yet to make the technology to make the technology it took to make the technology you hold in your hand. That computer right there shouldn’t even exist. Not for another thirty to sixty years, maybe even a hundred. That’s a production model there, something you can buy in a convenience store in wherever the hell it’s from.

For a second, I stared at him, raising an eyebrow. You saying this computer traveled through time?

He shook his head, and the big beard and ‘stache exaggerated his movements. No. Not possible. I just think someone, somewhere, with almost unlimited funding is farther ahead than anybody thought possible. Light years ahead of everybody else, but someone in our present.

Chinese, or Koreans maybe?

Maybe, but I don’t think so. Not unless they leapfrogged everybody else. Don’t get me wrong, they and the Japanese dump vast sums into research, and it’s no secret that everyone steals from everyone else. This is a completely different animal. It took billions of dollars spent over decades just to be able to create that computer, Sam. People will kill for this thing. This is DARPA, GIA, or SNA type shit here.

I’m aware. I’m not looking for billions. I just want several million, if possible, and freedom from everybody’s favorite psycho.

Sam, you have the discovery of a millennia in your hand, and all you want with it is criminal intent and monetary gain—even if it is to get away from Tom.

Clark, we’re not in a position to make full use of this thing’s capabilities. If we fool ourselves into trying to use it as such, we’ll only get ourselves killed. The mere hint that we have this thing will get us killed. So, a few quiet accounts with unclaimed millions is the most we can hope for. For me, if it means I can pull together the means to get Tom off me, I’ll do it.

The millions, that’s possible... maybe. Freedom from Tom, well, good luck with all that.

That computer is worthless to me if I can’t get out from under the fucker. I need pictures of politicians... fucking goats, or something.

Clark nodded. I’ll dig around in there and see what I can find. Maybe info or gray accounts. No guarantees, of course, but I think we should be able to find something.

What’s a gray account?

You’ve heard of ‘black budgets’?

Yeah. Off the books accounts the government or companies use to hide everything from marketing research to fighter aircraft production to satellite operations to data mining. Financial deniability.

Right. Gray accounts could be anyone. Some government or CEO whisked their money out of the country, or some dictator who stashed their money in banks that only use numbers in some foreign country, like the Caymans. You don’t need an ID, just the account number. Pick out someone who’s been dead for a long time, and shit, who knows?

I took a swig off my energy drink. Don’t banks... absorb... the accounts after a while?

Not these banks. Their whole reputation depends on account longevity and silence.

I thought for a moment. Are we likely to have someone after us?

Depends on who we hit, and the trail we leave behind. I can think of a couple of different Caribbean countries with investment opportunities. If any exist. Keep in mind I just used that as a hypothetical situation. There may be nothing, or equally as bad, information we can’t use or sell.

How much is this gonna cost me?

I’m not sure. Depends on what I find in there. Sam don’t worry about it too much. I would have lost my job at the university if it wasn’t for you. You helped me out when you didn’t have to. I always said I’d pay you back for it. Let’s just see what I find. Are you headed back to Wasilla?

I shook my head. No. Kenny Lake. Going to the cabin. I’m gonna be out of town for a few days. You can reach me on my cell, though.

Good. I’ll let you know when I have something. Sam...

Clark.

I have met other... people you’ve helped out. Turns out to be a lot of people. They all swear by you and the help you’ve given. I’ll help you out however I can here.

Clark, I trust you as much as I can trust anyone.

A puzzled look appeared on Clark’s face. How much is that?

I smiled. Not shit.

Clark nodded. That’s the big reason I like you, Sam. You’re honest about who you are and what you are.

I found myself saying, Thanks. It’s all that’s kept me alive. But never forget this—the day I’m forced to be truly honest with the world about who and what I am, we will all have worse problems.

I won’t fuck you over, Sam. I owe you too much.

Again, thanks.

I had just passed the last exit at North Pole, headed to Kenny Lake for drugs, guns, booze, music, and a three-way with both my girlfriends when Clark called me on my cell.

Yeah.

You have to get back here. You’re going to have to see this to believe it.

Just nutshell it.

The goat you wanted? It just danced through the door, wearing a tutu. It’s everything, Sam. It’s everything we wanted. Everything. Now.

The tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes and angled my way across the median, the morning dew making it easy to power slide Mandy Mustang around into the right lane of the other side of the highway, toward Fairbanks and Clark’s house. Clark, I find your imagery disturbing, but I'm on the way.

Dory answered when I called Allie.

Your girlfriend has a longer tongue than you do! She was pretending to be wound up and horny.

Dory, since you might not give Allie her phone back, could you tell everyone I’ll be late?

What! Sam… she mock- whined.

Business, baby, business. I had something come up I can’t ignore.

What the fuck could make you not be here?

Freedom.

Dory was telling Kelly, Allie, and Willy to be quiet in the background. Go on.

From the only person who really might take over from the devil someday. From Tom.

Dory was quiet for a few seconds. Sam, baby, you do whatever you have to. Do you need us to roll north?

No. Have fun and stay where you are for now. I don’t expect much action right away. That may be later.

Not too much later, Sam. Don’t make me come looking for you with that gun you gave me.

I laughed. Dory, sweetheart, if you have to come looking for me, get Oscar and Sandy first, then get lots of bigger guns, ‘cause I’ll have bigger problems. Anything computer, get Kelly.

Kelly? Our Kelly?

The same. She’s smarter than I am and has a degree in computer sciences from Caltech.

I bet she’s a better lay.

I laughed. Got me there. Can I talk to Allie?

In the background, Dory called, Allie, baby! Come up for air! It’s Sam! I could hear general laughter ensue from everybody, and then Allie picked up.

Sam! Come home to me, baby.

I will, I promise. Remember the business we talked about? It’s popping up, and I have to go deal with it while I have the opportunity and I’m in the area. Is that cool, baby?

Yeah, I get it. Kelly misses you bad, though, and it’ll be a hard sell to her. I love you.

Where’s my man? Kelly asked after she took the phone from Allie.

Doing business, honey.

Do what you gotta do, but make sure you come back to us.

Kelly, I might need your help.

How, baby?

Computer stuff.

I’m all yours. I love you.

I love you. I gotta go, baby.

Call us soon. Give you back to Allie?

Yeah.

I love you, Sam.

Allison, I love you. I hung up before it went too far from there. Then, I let the 302 wind up on the way back to Fairbanks with my foot on the floor.

Look.

I am looking. What the fuck am I looking at?

Everything, Sam. Everything!

Okay. You’ll have to excuse my lack of computer geekabilty here. What the fuck am I looking at, Clark?

Everything we talked about.

I broke out with laughter from the circle this was taking. Fuck, yeah! What’d ya find?

Clark took up the wired mouse and began to click on things as he spoke. This is a list of gray accounts from the last two hundred and twenty years. The newest is fifty years old. Since we don’t want to attract the attention that would come from the large accounts, I looked into the smaller accounts. I’m working on a way to get to the newer accounts, but some of the older ones should prove relatively easy. He clicked on another file. This is a list of all the people previous state governors have secretly pardoned in Alaska for the past fifty years.

A name caught my eye. Is that..?

Yup. And look at the names under his.

Scanning down, I read more names on the list. Holy shit. That’s—

Yup.

The list read like a sicko’s guide to some of the most prominent names in Alaska. Moving my hand over the laptop’s touchpad displayed a complete dossier on every single politician, judge, lawyer, and celebrity in the state. One by one, I began opening files. One of the few politicians I thought might be worth even a little respect turned out to be on video with two girls and a meth pipe; I would never be able to vote for her again.

If Tom ever sees this video, she’s dead.

She’ll have earned it. Just watch. Sam, I won’t lie, this video is some sick shit.

Astonished, I watched. One of the girls moved to the politician while the other sucked on the pipe. There was no audio, but the video quality was top notch. The girl sucking on the meth pipe fell over onto the floor, twitching, shitting herself, and then going suddenly very still. Since the other two were busy licking each other, it took them a moment to realize something was wrong.

The young girl, who was wearing a strap-on, looked like she started screaming. In contrast, the older woman first seemed calm, then looked like she was yelling. When that didn’t work to still her companion, she calmly opened a drawer in her dresser, pulled out an automatic handgun, and shot the young girl with the strap-on through the back of the head. Putting the gun down, she lit a cigarette, picked up her phone, and made a call.

A few minutes later, a clean-cut guy appeared. He didn’t seem bothered by the mess, nor did he seem surprised.

He made a call. Soon, an old woman came into frame and cleaned up first them, and then the mess, in a quick, professional manner. Together, they put the corpses in body bags. I had heard of cleaners before, but this was the first time I’d seen one in action. With a shake of my head, I decided Tom needed to see this video after all. When I clicked on the little X to close the file, it was like clicking the woman’s life away.

Copy this. For Tom.

Will do. Think that’ll buy your freedom?

No. But it’s one hell of a down payment.

It got worse. Several people I knew were on the list. Some had perversions and desires beyond decadent or gross. The more morally superior they were reputed to be, the worse their tastes got.

It gets better.

I looked at Clark. Oh?

He reached for the touchpad then clicked on another file. Behold. The FCJ.

FCJ?

Fucking Crown Jewel, man. Well, so far. His wicked giggle accompanied the click of a file. It took me a minute to realize just what it was I was looking at. Every person on the list—

Yup. Elected. You pay half a million dollars, and you simply won’t lose. A wry kind of laugh escaped him. They call themselves The Group. The Group, in turn, call it the Angel Fund.

Incredulous, I looked from Clark back to the list. What’s that file there?

I’m not sure. Heavy math, got to be the most complex equations I’ve ever seen.

For what?

I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it.

I pointed at another file. What’s that one?

With a wolfish grin, Clark opened the file. A bunch of code moved across the screen, but I was clueless, and said as much.

I have no idea what I’m looking at.

This is the code.

Code? What code?

Clark looked at me like I was the dumbest student he’d ever had. You’re kidding, right? You really don’t get what’s happening here?

I run drugs, man-whore on the side, play bass, and try hard not to shoot motherfuckers. Put this in respectful terms I can understand.

Dropping the holier-than-thou act, he explained This is the source code to all the voting machines in Alaska.

Clark, are you fucking with me?

I wish. Sam, this is what you need to be free from Tom. There’s just one thing.

That is?

I didn’t have to look for any of this. The computer had all of it on display when I got back from getting a beer and a sandwich. Without me even touching the laptop it’s plugged into.

At least some of the implications were clear to me as soon as he said it. Fuck.

Sam, this shit scares me more than Tom ever could. There’s even mention of an armed tactical satellite network.

I pulled out a joint and lit it, shaking slightly at the mention of the network. It was called ARCHANGEL, and I had accidentally learned about it a couple of years ago doing a job for someone. Out of self-preservation, I’d kept my mouth shut, ensuring my then employer didn’t know about my knowledge of it. As far as I knew, no one knew that I knew what I knew. A lot of scary shit goes on in Alaska, where the only other eyes may not be just the wildlife, and people disappear all the time. I offered the joint to Clark, knowing full well he didn’t smoke weed.

He waved it off, somewhat offended I’d lit up in his house. I offered it again with my exhale.

As scary as giving Tom control of all the elections in the state? I asked.

Okay. He took the joint and a big drag. Thanks. Thanks for reining in a stupid idea.

Think nothing of it, Clark. That’s what friends are for. Find us a good idea instead. Something I can use. Soooo... this thing had the shit all laid out and on display for you when you got back from making a sandwich?

Yeah. But the creepy part is, I hadn’t even plugged it in yet. It all popped up as soon as I plugged it in. It was like it... heard us.

I thought about that, and sighed. Verify as much of this as you can. This has too good to be true written all over it. Don’t move on anything until you do, and don’t move on anything until you check with me. Tom’s connections reach the most unexpected places, often with a bad ending for somebody.

Clark huffed out an offended Fine.

Is that thing recording us? I asked glancing at the computer.

I don’t think so. I removed the camera and the mic, so, no, not that I know of.

My patience was wearing thin. I was tired, hungry, and horny. Gesturing at the file on the computer screen, I said curtly Nutshell it, Clark.

Okay. Sam, this is the programming for every voting machine in the state. This program and the Angel Fund are what have kept the secret committee in the Republican Preservation Party in power for the last forty years.

My eyes scanned the list. There sure are a lot of Democrats here.

"Not the Republican Party. The Republican Preservation Party. These crooks just jacked the name for cover. I’ve heard rumors, but never thought it was true. I just blew it off like UFOs, cold fusion, going to Mars, or—"

Quantum computers? I said nodding toward the drive.

Yeah. Quantum computers.

We were both silent for a moment, the implications of what we’d found sinking in. Now, I was scared. This was something that could get a drone to put a missile up our asses.

You’re sure?

Enough to be scared shitless, and enough to have a woody over the gray accounts I found.

So, you really found some? I thought that was just a hypothetical. How much are we looking at there?

Oh, they’re real. It’ll take time to set up, but by this time next year, we might be able to lay our hands on a few million dollars. I have numbers and everything. I’ll have to do a lot of work online to cover our tracks. If all goes well, come summer after next, we’ll be very rich men, my friend. We’re gonna have a lot to do to make it work. Can you pass a background check and get a passport?

Yup, I have one. I sighed. Sooner is better. First, verify all this shit as best as you can. Then, take these four files, I pointed at four dossiers, the worst of those profiled, and load them onto four individual thumb drives. I’m gonna need to be able to milk this, I said. In fact, I want copies on to at least three thumb drives for each one before I hand these out. Beyond that, don’t do anything without my word on it."

Understood. Sam, I don’t work for Tom.

I sighed. Clark, everybody works for Tom. Unlike most people, we know it.

Mandy’s 302 feasted on the cold, early morning Spring air. I passed North Pole, headed for Delta Junction, and then Kenny Lake with a bag of thumb drives. Mandy, the road, and the loud music took over my thoughts.

Chapter 2

Yes, Governor, I do understand the gravity of the situation. I am currently in conference about that very subject with Senators Case and Howard. You may have heard of them? Senator Case, Chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, and Senator Howard, Chairman of the Ways and Means Committee? Indeed, the very same. Now, Governor Pearson, do I need to remind you, it was one of your people who caused this little… how should I put it? Monumental fuck up? It is a pity you can’t be here while we discuss your future. Now I must go, Governor. We adults have things to discuss. I am sure you will be told what you need to hear when you need to hear it. Oh, and you do understand any further communications between us are to be strictly through my offices? Lose my number, please. Good day.

August Peterson hung up his phone mumbling, Fucking idiot, and put it in his jacket pocket. He thought for a moment as he lit his cigar. The fine taste of the Cuban with the snifter of two-hundred-year-old cognac was a superb experience. Now, gentlemen, back to the business at hand—cleaning you out!

There was laughter all around the poker table as he looked around at the politicians and CEOs seated there.

Deal!

Carla Schmidt sat across from Tom Halgren, who looked like a typical old man anyone might want for a grandfather. Even now, as he stared into her eyes.

That’s a lot of talk. I think it’s all bullshit, too. That's gonna cost you. I’m going to take great pleasure in making this hurt greatly, and for a very long time.

She took a drag off her cigarette and let out a long, slow exhale. I’ve heard things about you. I heard you like that kind of thing. Who says I don’t? Maybe I like it long... slow... and- She took a drag off her cigarette, leaned back and exhaled up at the ceiling. She looked at him, and slowly said Painful.

Who says you do? Who says you’d like my version? You may not find it so pleasing.

Bite me.

Be careful what you ask for. It may get you.

That little almost-smile. A quiet surety in his voice with a certain solid foundation of some form of experience behind it… the depth and sudden clarity in what were old eyes no longer. The certainty of the situation reduced down to what was known to all as not a veiled threat, but simply the natural order of things as sure as lightning would strike, the sun would rise, or the rivers would run.

Tom used these things to the desired effect. He scared the shit out of her.

He rattled her.

Carla had been in life-threatening situations before, though; while raising six rowdy children. She held her composure and held her ground. It was time to force the issue involved. Enough talk, Tom. I’ll call.

Tom leaned back in his chair, and Carla put her cards on the table.

Full house. Queens over sixes.

His eyes narrowed. So, here we are.

The game of Five Card Draw had started at eighteen hundred the previous night; it was coming up on quarter to two now. Out of five players, they alone remained in what was the final winner take all hand, with almost three-hundred thousand dollars on the table. During this last hand, the three other remaining players had folded.

I have three words for you. Very. Well. Played. Tom put his hand of nothing on the table. You win.

The tension released in the room in a big collective sigh from the three men who’d folded.

I’d say that calls for a round, everybody! Saphron!

Carla began pulling her winnings close to put in her purse.

Stop!

She glanced up as Tom sat up, his left hand in the air. Erica?

Yes, Tom? answered a lithe blonde behind the bar.

Would you be so kind as to get Carla here one of those armored deposit bags?

Right away, Tom.

My apologies, Carla, said Tom. I didn’t mean to give you a fright. I just figured a deposit bag would be safer than a single purse.

Uh, thanks, Tom.

A round of drinks appeared and they toasted: To victory! And Carla!

Later, as Tom walked Carla out to her car, he asked, Do you have a moment?

That depends. For what?

A business proposition. We have a mutual problem coming up, and we need it dealt with. Quietly. Legitimately. Legally. If possible, of course.

What problem is that?

North View Estates.

In a flash, Carla put it all together. When her real estate company known as Snow Cap Properties went to buy up some land near Eagle River, they needed a couple of investors. They’d found three. Tom must have gained some sort of connection with at least one of the investors. If her intuition was right, Tom was leveraging it for some reason.

I trust you’re familiar with Lydia Andrews?

Somewhat. Carla was surprised but hid it well. She hadn’t seen this angle coming. I’ve never met her. Why do you ask?

It would seem she has ambitions and wants to become a US senator, via attacks on the Anchorage Assembly. Ergo, she has plans for our multi-million-dollar gated community. Her friends at ChargeEm Light and Power and their buddies at GasAlaska have offered to fund her campaign with a super PAC next election. The payoff being she’ll help them become the first investor-owned utilities in the state, and fuck us not just once, but multiple times.

Okay.

Tom looked at her for a moment, then said, You really don’t know, do you?

I know I just walked out of your business with a quarter million dollars. She smiled nicely at Tom. I know underneath it all, you’re just a sweet old man. And I know I’m going to give you a call from the beach in Hawaii- or maybe Rio.

He opened the door of the Porsche, and she got in.

I also know I’m going to have a good time with what was your money.

Tom smiled benignly and as he closed the door, laughed, and said, I know you’ll be calling me long before that.

She belted herself in, and with a wave, drove out of the lot.

Once on the Parks Highway, headed south for Eagle River, she set the cruise control and ran her hand lovingly over the deposit bag. She had checked the bag before putting her winnings in it, and the key was in her bra. The thought of that much money in cash in her hand made her clit erect and had made her wet. She wanted to fuck and do it now. On the money, spread out over her new satin sheets. She activated the hands-free and called Sam, but it went to voicemail.

Shit. Where the fuck is that boy?

Call Verna.

Calling Verna.

Hello? A half-asleep Verna Carter answered. Verna was an assistant to the mayor’s financial advisor, and for the advisor for projects management.

Verna, this is Carla. I need something, and I need it right away. I need to know what the new power company and the new gas company are planning with Lydia Andrews. I need to know right now.

Verna was silent.

Carla pushed her. Verna?

How... the fuck did you know about that? No one’s supposed to know about it!

Carla went from horny to frustrated. Verna? I pay you huge sums for inside information at city hall. What’s going on? Tell me!

They’re trying to get a major transmission line through the neighborhood you’re building. They want to put the right-of-way smack through the middle of it, with a two-hundred-foot easement for the new gas line.

What? Her frustration turned to astonishment. How long has this been in progress? Verna stayed silent.

Verna?

Verna remained quiet.

Verna!

About six months now. the assistant mumbled.

Carla slammed on the brakes and moved over to the side of the road. What? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? She put the car in park.

Verna sobbed. They made us sign non-disclosure forms with cops in the room! The cops watched our houses for months! They followed us everywhere.

How long? How many months?

About four.

Does Mayor Tanner know about this?

It was his idea, Verna whispered.

For the first time in decades, Carla Schmidt threw a fit of rage, pounding on the steering wheel of her car with both hands.

Chapter 3

Alright, everybody. You wanted to find out what was on that drive? Time for the big reveal. Break out the party favors. I took a CD case from the shelf and began chopping out lines. Once everyone was seated and had done a round of weed and coke, I began.

Have any of you heard of a quantum computer? Without getting into little details—like his name—I ran down what Clark had told me about it.

Kelly snorted up a line. Yeah. It uses the suppositional state of atoms, or even sub-atomic particles, in place of transistors, typically photons. It would be scary fast and have unlimited data storage, if you have enough of them. Normal computers work with a binary system, zero is off, one is on, right? This would work with on, off, or both as needed. A production version as small as a thumb drive would be scary shit. One would be worth trillions of dollars just for the data mining abilities alone. It could probably hack any conventional computer with ease. It would be like having all the world’s truth on a stick. She snorted the next line and passed the case to Dory. Because of how it works, its encryption would be beyond anyone with a conventional computer.

Willy said, Fuck.

Just one problem, baby. No one’s built one with more than seven atoms. That was only last year, and it took up all of one of MIT’s labs. The computer was the size of a fridge, and it wasn’t all that capable, either. They ran simple problems through it, but nothing special. It didn’t even store the data it processed.

I shook my head. This thing is the size of a large thumb drive and has huge files ready to read when I saw it. Everything from dirt on corrupt politicians to who’s really who in state politics.

It has to be some sort of advanced drive.

My dude’s pretty adamant that it’s a quantum computer. Just supremely advanced.

I’ll say.

Dory looked at Kelly, her mouth open.

Willy pointed at Kelly and added What she said.

Feeling the line, Kelly continued If it’s real, it would be almost impossible to hack. Encryption on a sub-atomic level would be a bitch to open, unless you have the sub-atomic key. Which means having the right number of photons and shit on your end to open the lock. Good luck! It could even be entangled with another computer like it. Get this—even if someone could hack it, merely the attempt would imprint itself on your computer. They couldn’t get in, but you’ll sure know if they tried, and you’ll know how. The entangled twin computer is another scary aspect.

Kelly had my undivided attention already, but now I saw an implication I didn’t like. How the hell is that?

This is the TV version, like Dr. Joltz. If you take some atoms from the same substance, they’ll have the same characteristics, right? Kinda like creepy twins. So, you put ‘em in two different boxes. Two or more computers like that could talk to each other from across the room, or across the galaxy, in real time. In theory. But I don’t know... the computer may not have that option open to it. On the other hand, it shouldn’t even exist.

Or it could be talking to a creepy twin right now, huh?

Kelly leaned back, taking a drag off the joint Allie passed to her. She exhaled, took another drag, and was quiet for a minute. Another exhale and she passed the joint to Willy. Maybe. Another wrinkle is that with photons, you must have a clear line of sight. That puts a lot of limits on things. I read recently they’ve managed to assign On/Off values to individual atoms; making atomic-level data storage possible. Maybe that’s the real angle here. In theory, you could store anything, maybe everything, in there.

Dory said quietly Whoever lost this is gonna want it back very badly.

I nodded. They would be looking at every possible lead on this, including on the net. So, we have to make sure we never speak of it directly on any kind of phone, emails, or text communications. Use euphemisms only. You can bet your ass whoever made this is watching from every possible angle for even the slightest whiff of the thing to surface. This thing has to be government made.

Willy shook his head. "Yeah... but which government?"

Good question, I said. Let’s hope we never find out.

What are you thinking?

"I’m thinking we just get what we need off it, then destroy it. We do not want to get caught with it."

I think you’re on to something there, Sam.

Everyone else agreed.

I went on. We’re still sifting through it to see what we find. There’s more on there than we realized. Once we find something relatively low risk, we’ll get whatever score we’re gonna get, it pays, and we destroy the thing. All good?

Everyone nodded agreement. Great! I got paid off by the auto shop, so let’s party!

Charles Bremmer sat in his car, wishing he could admire the view just once more. He took out his phone, woke it, and put in a number he’d memorized. A male voice answered.

Yes?

I’ll do it. My wife and kids, they’ll be taken care of as agreed? Financially?

As agreed.

Good. I’ll see to it today.

Good. Do not call this number again. It will be disconnected. We’ll be watching the news.

Understood.

The call ended at the other end.

Charles looked at the phone and gave a subtle laugh to himself. No, you won’t have to worry about that.

He looked out at the rain, wind, and gray weather. It seemed so appropriate. His life had been nothing but a storm since he lost the computer. It had to have been stolen, but that mattered little to the people he worked for. As far as they were concerned, this was as big a mistake as it got. With a chuckle, he deleted the number from his phone, turned it off… and then changed his mind.

Turning the cell back on, he pulled up a selfie with his wife and girls during a stay in Denali National Park and put the phone where he could see it. He put the car in gear and made sure the car slid sideways as it went off the cliff. It rolled as it went down and landed on the roof. The waves covered the gravel beach and swamped the car.

Up on the cliff, a bicyclist stopped, called 911, and began to take video which would end up on the evening news. A blonde woman in a white pick-up stopped and made a call.

Minutes later, a man crept through Charles Bremmer’s house. He was covered head-to-toe, with sunglasses and gloves, with a bandana over his face in case of cameras. As he worked his way down the hall, he could hear a female voice speaking.

No, Mom, we’ll be all right. Charles has just had it rough at work. That’s all. Just politics. How about you, did Ron get your car fixed? Why not?

The man peered around the corner. A pretty brunette woman sat on a stool at an island in the kitchen. Her back to him, she was speaking on a cell phone.

Oh. I understand that one, it once took three weeks to get a part for Charles’ truck. You know how it goes, ‘It’s on the barge.’ She laughed. Okay, well, I love you, and I’ll see you and Dad next week for dinner. Later on, Mom. The woman took the phone away from her ear and tipped it forward to end the call. She touched the icon and lifted her finger.

As she did, the silenced bullets splattered her head all over the phone and the island.

He moved forward into the living room. The two girls were on each end of the couch, one asleep, the other watching TV. He shot the one awake in the head first, double-tapping her, then shot the other one twice as she stirred. The hitman checked them both to make sure they were dead, then swept the entire house to be sure no one else was there.

Satisfied he was now alone in the house, he put his gun away and took out something which looked like a smartphone and a stylus. Holding the stylus up with the ball end above his head, the round tip glowed red. He panned the phone-looking device around. Dissatisfied, he went upstairs, sweeping the item around. Still not happy, he found the basement door and went down. Looking around, he again found nothing. He put the items away, and went out the way he’d come in. Once he was out of the house, he made his way through the woods until he reached the street in the new subdivision behind the house. With no houses yet, it meant no cameras. He got into a small blue truck and drove away.

Some minutes later, he pulled into an alley behind an apartment complex. He parked the truck in its assigned space, then got out of the truck and walked away. At the far end of the alley, he moved some trash out of the way and dragged out a bicycle. He rode off. Several blocks away, the hit man cut through a park, stopped, and pulled out a cell phone in a plastic bag. A male voice answered after he dialed.

Yeah.

It was a good barbecue, but they forgot the coleslaw.

Good. Drinks are on me, usual time and place.

Delighted. See you there.

The man hung up the phone and tore a hole in the bag, which he put it in a pocket of his hoodie. As he rode across a bridge, he pitched the phone into the creek below and continued on. Reaching the edge of the park, he hopped the curb to the street. He rode to the end of the block and cut through an alley. A blonde woman with a white pickup truck sat waiting. He put the bike in the bed and got in the