Chapter 40
Containment was compromised and from this point on, no matter how well Craig maintained his discipline or prepared, there were too many moving parts outside his control to keep this mission within his field of play. And the operation directive kept shifting with each new event: first El Sharrad’s suicide, than the TV minister calling press conferences about Sentient’s new possibilities, and finally the emergence of an activated terrorist unit who may be privy to most if not all of Craig’s information. He also suspected this was the cell which took on the El Sharrad roll to initiate the stadium bombing … but where? Shit, ministers, scientists, surfers and photographers, I miss the days when my target was a simple Syrian politician with a security detail. But he was in the game, and he knew the game had to be played to conclusion … on his terms.
Craig knew most of the players and would now force his opponents to move faster. When they pressured, people will generally make mistakes, usually to his advantage. Was there anyone out there he was missing, he wondered? They had found the cell leader, who was also the owner of the Castle Pizza near Photon, burned to death in his home and all other employees were dust in the wind. And who activated the terrorist cell from British Columbia?
Normally, if he used forceful interrogation methods on a few, or took out one or two, some uncertainties would dissolve. But he couldn’t very well shoot a preacher and if he squeezed Jarrard he was afraid more frivolous bullshit would spill out. Sally was out of the question, he reasoned. He was fond of her, and it even disturbed him to threaten her yesterday. The stirring of his conscience was an unfamiliar feeling to him. One thing for sure, whatever the outcome, the convergence of the forces in play would be in the Hawaiian Islands.
With Professor Jarrard in tow, they head for the Energy Lab near Kona along the coast of the Big Island. Craig had requisitioned a G5 Gulfstream jet from the Special Agent in Charge of FBI Sacramento’s field office, who had it sent down to Oakland International. Once they were onboard, an Agency helicopter had shuttled up to meet the jet. Craig sent a number of encrypted messages and made arrangements for a black-ops team to join him upon arrival in Kona. He and his agents were treated to a catered meal compliments of the station chief, with a few morsels spared for Jarrard. Craig then shut the door to the sleeping compartment, leaving Jarrard under close guard in the main cabin. He didn’t think Jarrard would or could hurt anyone, but hell, he thought, Jarrard was loose as a goose and its guys like him who end up shooting up public places.
The Gulfstream touched down within minutes of the Hawaiian Air flight Murad was on. If Craig had gone through the terminal rather than bypass airport facilities, he might have seen Murad outside at arrivals waiting for the Hawaiian cell members to pick him up. He never forgot a face and he would have recognized Murad, who he knew to be one of the most notorious and cunning al-Qaeda operatives. Rather, two glistening Ford Excursions drove up to the hanger. One agent accompanied Jarrard and headed to the Energy Lab. Craig and the other agent headed up to meet a tactical assault team about a ten-minute drive out, on the way to Dr. Campbell’s property. Langley had used Sally’s cell phone history to triangulate her exact location on the North Shore a few days ago and Craig guessed this was the location of Ben’s secluded retreat. If his unknown adversary was talented enough to find Sally at the Reverend’s yacht, he would also be able to find Campbell’s place.
They saw the SWAT vehicle ahead at the predetermined meeting point and as they parked next to it, the driver hung his head out the window. “Major, all set. All the gear you requested is in the back.”
Craig got out and joined the agent behind his truck. All the cartridge belts containing ammunition had an extra holster added to hold a Taser. “Guess you intend to keep the weapons fire to a minimum, sir?”
“Affirmative, our destination will likely host all friendlies. Keep the Tasers up front and your guns holstered. If they give us a hard time, we’ll knock them out. But unless I say so, under no circumstances are we to harm them.”
“Yes sir, but suggest you and your man do what we do. Be prepared; have your side arms fully-loaded and available. Lots of pot farmers up in that valley and they’ll think nothing of taking out the whole lot of us,” the agent warned. “These North Shore druggies are more dangerous than the Taliban, sir.”
“Got it, do you guys have any questions?” Craig asked the men listening in the front of the truck. “It should be two, possibly three men and one woman. They are non-violent types, but I’m unsure what kind of security the owner of the property has around the perimeter. His name is Ben Campbell.”
One of the men came back, “Sir, I’ve heard about his place. Weird shit goes on around his land. Some of the potheads we take in say they’ve seen lions or other animals which we don’t have in Hawaii. We typically write it off to too much crack or PCP.” And the others laughed.
“Dr. Campbell is a genius and we can’t predict what he’s got up there. Is everyone good?” Craig finished.
They all gave thumbs-up from their seats. “Craig sir, follow we should be four hundred kilometers from the limits of his property line by 13:15 hours. Sir, have you had any sleep lately, looks like you could use some. You’ve got half an hour; we’ve got you covered. Get a little shut-eye on the drive up.”
Craig thanked the young officer and knew he was right. Sleeping fifteen minutes here or there was okay for a day or two, but he had been awake all but maybe seven hours in the past week. Even on today’s flight in a comfortable bed Craig didn’t sleep well. He couldn’t stop thinking something was out of place. Who was he up against? He dozed off again and woke when they turned onto the double-tracked road to Ben’s. He checked his watch and asked his driver, “How much time?”
“Sir, twelve minutes but these are big trucks not meant for this road. It will be an easy climb but we ain’t gonna have any paint on the side of these vehicles by the time we get up there. Then we’ll pull off into the cane field and make the rest on foot.”
They heard the agent in the truck ahead radio back, “Guys, suit up, get ready for game time. We’re there in five.”
Minutes later, they pushed open their doors against the sugar cane and proceeding single-file in the direction of Ben’s home. The senior agent took the lead, and then Craig and the rest followed.
“Sir, you hear that?” the lead agent asked Craig, putting his hand up and bringing them all to a halt. “It sounded like an animal roar. Wonder if he does have a lion? Not sure how he’d pull that off. Considering the way Hawaii fiercely protects its indigenous species, there’s no way he could sneak in a lion cub.”
One of the other men suggested, “Maybe it’s a wild boar. The islands are covered with them; they feast on natural island plants.” The men talked casually about hunting boar as they hiked towards their target. “Sir, each year they have a Wounded Warrior Boar Hunt to try and thin them out. We donate the meat to food kitchens and needy families. It’s always great to get the vets out with their brothers for a few days of shoot’em up.” “I even heard the tree-huggers are good with it. Guess they love the flowers more than the beasts.”
“I took a boar down last October, over four hundred and thirty-two pounds, mean as shit,” another added, “and it made a roar something like what we just heard. Suggest we take our take our safeties off, sir. If it sees us before we see it, it could do a lot of damage with those tusks.”
“Makes sense, roger that. Let’s be alert. This is supposed to be a surprise advance and we want to keep it as quiet as possible. Let’s go, let’s spread out now.” And they moved in with eight to ten feet between them.
They came to a small clearing, just a few feet wide, and this time they all heard the roar. “Sir, not a boar, they don’t go on and on like that and definitely not as loud. Sir, I grew up in Nome. You’re not going to believe me, but I swear it sounds like a grizzly.”
Craig ordered, “If it’s a grizzly then it’s a fucking grizzly. Be ready. This man is off-kilter
and we have no way of knowing how he keeps intruders away.
After one more all-around check of guns and Tasers, they moved forward and came to the edge of their cover.
“No fucking way!” agent one said as he held his gaze on the snarling bear that claimed the space between the house and the rear building. “I mean no fucking way, it’s an Alaskan grizzly, sir! How the hell did he get that thing to Hawaii? I thought I’ve seen every scenario during training, but in all my years in the field, I have never had to take down a bear to attain an objective. What are your orders Major?”
Craig had to admit; this was a first for him too. “We can try the Taser, but not sure what it will do to a bear and we can’t have any of us getting mauled. Tasers are calibrated to knock out a man up to three hundred and fifty pounds. This beast must be twice that. The grizzly was a towering twelve feet tall and at this size would be more than twelve hundred pissed-off pounds.
Craig brought them together, “Okay, we have to deal with three variables. To deal with the bear, use live fire. The bear will make it impossible to approach and if we Taser it, we will make it madder. So put silencers on, we don’t want to alert those inside. If we have to kill it, so be it. Next, there are two buildings and we’re not sure which one they’re in. After we’ve dealt with the grizzly, switch to Tasers. We will break into two parts. You two head with me to the rear building and you others deal with the bear. Then head to the house. The third unknown is always a possibility. We don’t know if anyone else is watching and with 360-degrees of cover, once we break out, we could take fire. We will circle around to the opposite side; give us ten minutes. Check your times, on my go. And remember, (he couldn’t believe he was saying this) make sure you take out the grizzly. I don’t want my head bit off from behind. Make him dead!”
“Yes, sir,” they replied, and split up to implement the plan.
Minutes later, Craig gave the signal and they came in fast. The two assigned to the grizzly moved out of the field in a crouch, weapons drawn and spread apart at an angle to distract the bear and hopefully confuse him. But the bear stood its ground and didn’t charge as they expected, so once within range, they both opened fire emptying their clips into the grizzly’s head and chest. But he didn’t drop; they didn’t even see blood where the bullets struck, so they reloaded and went for his legs to knock them out from under him.
“Major, sir, we’re laying into the bear, but it’s not doing a thing. We’ve each gone through two clips but can’t kill him. We’re about to reload and go again!”
Craig had come up beside the lab and was about to bust down the entrance when he heard the call, but before he could respond, the door flew open and Ben Campbell flung himself out, shouting at the top of his lungs, “No, not Gretchen! Stop shooting!”
The agents attacking the bear had quickly locked in their third clip of sixteen rounds, firing again at this “Gretchen,” completely unaware that she was a hologram. Her resolution was so rich and dense, she appeared as a thick, dangerous mass of bear flesh, and she obscured Ben Campbell as he rushed out from his lab.
Ben yelled again, and then went down. He grabbed his leg and took another round in his shoulder. Craig rushed in and dove on top of Ben using his body armor to prevent another hit.
“Cease fire, cease fire! That’s an order, hold your fire!”
The gunfire had stopped. Gretchen still threatened two men, but Craig began to see beyond the image. “Walk around the bear, it’s not real. Everyone in here, we need you now!” Craig came off Ben, leapt over him, and flipped him on to his back searching for a second entry point. The leg wound only grazed Ben, but a bullet wound to the torso was another matter altogether.
Shawn, Sally and Drake had been inside the lab listening to Ben, suggesting improvements in the replication process, when they heard the first shots. None of them were familiar with firearms and had any idea these were gunshots or how to react. Ben though had lived close to some pretty tough neighborhoods while a student at Harvard and knew gunfire when he heard it. With the first volley he was up and out the door, thinking some druggies trying to steal a generator had come upon Gretchen. “Stay inside and stay low. Have to stop these assholes from hitting the generators!”
Shawn was closest to the door and got up to see to see if he could help Ben. When he looked out, a wiry, dark-skinned assailant had knocked Ben to his knees, and then jammed Ben’s face down into the dirt. Shawn could see Ben was hit and could see blood spreading across his shoulder and oozing out of a wound on his leg. When the shooting stopped, the little guy turned Ben over and tore open his shirt to search for his injury.
This is no pot grower, Shawn surmised. “Sally, Drake, stay here, Ben needs us!” And they all ran out to help.
Shawn hit Ben with a full-body slam, knocking them both clear and away from Ben. Upon impact, Shawn thought, This guy is a friggin’ brick.
Caught completely off-guard, Craig had no idea what hit him, but he knew it was an amateur, because if it was a pro, he would be unconscious or dead right now. He rolled through the collision with Shawn, came to his feet, reached for Shawn and put him in a stifling choke-hold. “So, you must be Mr. Pérez. Don’t they teach photographers how to fight?”
Shawn struggled but it was of no use, each time he moved, the hold was tightened and a sharp pain ran down his spine. “Let me go you shit, what did you do to Ben?”
Through the little stars obscuring his vision, Shawn could see Sally and Drake now beside Ben. “Let me go, I’ll kick the shit out of you! Why did you shoot Ben?”
The other agents began to assemble after slowly accepting the fact that Gretchen wasn’t a threat, wasn’t even real. Craig’s man busted them, “You guys are going have a hard time living this down. You put over a hundred rounds into a hologram. Way to go guys! Major, need any help?” the man asked, and then got a laugh out of the embarrassed agents by pointing at Shawn and saying, “Sir, looks like that guy has you right where you want him.”
“Sally came to her feet and said, “How can you people laugh? Our friend is hurt, you shot him. Major Craig, you’re responsible for this.”
But Craig had Shawn to deal with first. “Mr. Pérez, we can do this all day. Tell me when you’re ready to calm down. Guys get to work on Mr. Campbell. One or both of you owes him an apology. You were supposed to kill the bear, not hit the scientist. The bullet that hit him in the shoulder passed completely through, and the leg is only grazed. Patch him up please. Lots of blood, but he’ll be fine.”
And he looked back down to Shawn squirming in the crook of his arm. “Mr. Pérez, can you stop for a moment, we are federal agents. If you stop threatening me, I’ll let you go. We are here on business and do not mean to hurt any of you. We saw what we thought was a real grizzly bear. Can you understand?”
Shawn wasn’t too happy about hanging up in the air, gasping for breath, so he decided the explanation seemed legit. After all, he thought Gretchen was real when he first saw her. Besides, he realized the odds were against him. Five highly-trained fighters against Ben on the ground, Sally who he loved, and Drake he had just brought back to live. “Sure, but only because you need to help Ben. You can let me go now.” Craig smiled as Shawn tried to save face.
Ben was coming-to with little notion of what had happened. “What going on? Why am I bleeding? Who are you men and what are you doing here? Sally, Shawn are you all okay?”
He wanted to sit up but they told him to lie still until they were certain he wouldn’t go into shock. One of the men had sprinted down and back from their truck with a field kit and they hooked an IV up to Ben to replace some of his fluids.
“Why were you firing at us?”
“Dr. Campbell, my name is Major Thomas Craig, and I’m a working associate of Dr. Evans here. We’ve come to bring Sally back with us. We need her assistance in a matter of national security.” Craig and the other agent helped Ben to his feet. “Dr. Campbell, can we please bring you inside so you can sit down and we can
clean you up? You will need to rest a bit in spite of the fact that neither of your wounds is life threatening. We can talk more when we are sure you are okay.”
With that they helped Ben into the lab which still looked a mess, but at least the furniture was upright and most of the water was gone. They sat Ben in the only comfortable chair in the room, an old, tan leather recliner. Two of the agents continued to clean him up and monitor his pulse and blood pressure. He had struck his head when Craig covered him so he also had a white gauze bandage above his left eye.
Drake looked at Ben and said, “Hey Shawn, check it out. Ben looks like one of the dudes in the old George Washington paintings. Cool!”
“Dr. Campbell, let me begin with a question.” Craig pointed to Drake but surveyed the crowd with his eyes. “I know you’re Ben Campbell, you’re Shawn Pérez, and Sally I know you. But who the hell are you?”
One of the younger agents answered first, “Sir, this doesn’t make any sense at all. I don’t think you know him but most of the planet does. He’s Drake Powers, the world’s best surfer. He’s sponsored, or was, by Deep Surf.”
“Agent, why wouldn’t that make any sense? Mr. Pérez is a surf photographer, Mr. Powers a pro surfer. What’s the issue?”
“Sir, Drake Powers is dead. He died in a big-wave accident a few days ago. Sir, I surf and I attended the memorial in Kauai. I watched Shawn give Drake’s ashes to the sea.”
“What the hell do you mean, he’s dead? He’s not dead, he’s right here!” Craig insisted and then he stopped himself. “Holy shit, do you mean, no, you mean it’s actually possible! Did you really do it?” He swung around towards Ben. “Do you mean you actually did it, this man was dead, and now he’s right here in front of me?”
“Yes,” Ben responded proudly. “Not only is Drake Powers here, but it is the SAME Drake Powers, body, mind, consciousness, and memories, all of him. It might take some time to explain it to you and all the physics involved.”
“Keep going, I can keep up; just keep talking, how did you do it?” Craig insisted. Ben provided Craig with all he could absorb, which was certainly more than he expected from a federal agent. In the meantime, Frisco and Drake had gone outside to play with the tennis ball.
“So against all probability, but with theory and science on our side, with Sally’s Sentient we have reached into the depth of a living being and not simply recorded its particle make-up, but captured the alternative outcome, as per Schrödinger’s theory of a single particle existing in two places at the same time.”
“Campbell, I’ve read all Schrödinger’s theoretical research. I get it, but you did it!”
“It wasn’t me, he did it,” pointing to Shawn. “Compare it to giving paint brushes to a chimp and Michelangelo. I’m the chimp, Shawn is Michelangelo. Sally and my contributions are on the science and technology end. Shawn can see other dimensions.”
Craig stopped for a moment to take it all in and noticed Frisco on Sally’s lap. “Hey, wasn’t that dog killed on the yacht? Do you mean you brought the animal back too? And, Sally, were you on the Salvation when the attack took place? Never mind, we’ll get into it later.”
Ben answered crisply, “Well, that’s Frisco. Yes, he was killed in the attack; you’re correct, but you are not using the right term. We didn’t bring Drake and Frisco back. He actually never left. We made a copy of the instances of Drake and Frisco that parted at the moment of death, like Schrödinger’s cat, and replicated them here in our dimensions. “And we replicated Frisco moments before you shot me.”
“You’ll heal. Can you do it again?” Craig said to Ben and then ordered, “You, Pérez, get your surfer friend Drake ready; we’re taking you with us when we leave with Dr. Evans.”
Sally objected at once. “You can’t take them, they have rights. And Shawn’s a photographer, not a scientist!” She moved in between Shawn and Craig. “I’m the one you want, I designed the camera, I understand how it works,” Sally insisted. “Don’t bullshit me, Dr. Evans. You heard Campbell; it’s because of Pérez it works. I’ve already seen what happens if it’s done wrong. Your associate Jarrard replicated a mutant and that dimwit almost blew us to pieces trying to make it work. But he did tell us where to go. We’re set up down at the Energy Lab now. And Mr. Powers is coming along so we can do some testing to see if he is what we really think he is. Don’t worry, you can keep the dog!” Craig finished and sharply directed his men to escort Shawn and Drake to their vehicle. “And grab the laser and bring it with us. Ben detailed its importance when he laid out their process. And even if we don’t get it right the first or second time, we’ll just keep killing El Sharrad until we do”.
Sally was furious, but still a bit loopy from the kava paste. “They have rights you know, you can’t do this. I’m going to call the media and they’ll be swarming all over you before you get to the coast!”
“Dr. Evans, I’d like to be there when you tell them that federal agents took a surf photographer and his dead surfer friend (oh, who isn’t dead anymore) to a lab to bring back a dead terrorist so they can interrogate him and then kill him again. Very cute and fairly sure they will think you’re a bit off. And I don’t think you want them finding out any more about Drake then we do, so just stay put and out of the way. Thanks to Jarrard and your Reverend boyfriend Reverend, there are terrorists out there who know too much and are after your discovery. Can you imagine if it falls into the wrong hands and they just keep replicating the most dangerous terrorist scum this world has ever known? How many Osama bin Laden’s to you want running around?”
Sally gave this some serious consideration.
Secretly Craig was glad he had Shawn instead of Sally. He didn’t want her hurt; nonetheless, he continued to antagonize her. “Take care of your friend Campbell, and go play with the dog.”
Sally’s voice began to fade. “Daniel’s not by boyfriend…”
But Drake cut her off. “Listen Swat shit, dip shit, no way am I going with you! I just got my life back and my Frisco too. You can pound sand asshole!”
“Looks like your gonna make this tough on yourself. Cuff this one!” Craig ordered.
The agent glanced at Craig, “Sir, you want me to handcuff Drake Powers, the world’s best surfer?”
“I don’t care who the hell he is, put him in handcuffs now!” Craig said again.
Sally ran up to Shawn, “Shawn, just do what he says, I’ll make calls to people I know. Craig has no conscience, he’ll hurt you and Drake if he thinks it will help his mission. But with what you know and who Drake is, he may want to keep you and Drake for other purposes. And Ben, he knows people too! Between us both, we’ll think of a way to get you free.”
“Sally, I’ll be cool, don’t want to be away from you another minute ever again. I’ll do what he says and once I finish layering out this terrorist dude, he’ll let me go. I’m just a photographer,” Shawn assured Sally. “I agree with this Craig guy. The terrorists think you’re the one they need, so if they found you once, and then Craig found you, they can probably find you again. Help Ben put up a couple of Gretchen’s, they’ll scare the shit out of anyone!”
“Shawn, I’m not so sure, and I’m frightened. Ben’s hurt, and I’ve seen too much death already!”
The two agents now tried to move Sally away from Shawn, but before they did, Sally whispered, “Shawn, promise me please, if anything happens to me, do not try to replicate me? Please promise, I know it would break your heart, but please promise!”
“Sally, I promise,” he said, as the agents pushed his head down into the back seat of an SUV and drove down the mountain. Frisco looked up at Sally, wondering where the ones they both loved had gone.