3rd World Products, Inc.
Book 11
Copyright©2008 by Ed Howdershelt
ISBN 1-932693-33-5
978-1-9326-9333-1
Note: I'm not going to re-introduce everybody.
Read my other 3WP-Books before starting Book 11.
Chapter One
My flitter hovered in stealth mode ten feet from Mina Tierney's twelfth-floor Alexandria, Virginia office window. At three minutes to four, the tall, attractive brunette woman checked the clock over her door, made a few last notes, tossed a folder in her out basket, and locked her desk.
On my field screen I watched a sniper on the fifteenth floor of an unfinished building nearly a block away. He quickly put down his binoculars and snuggled up to the stock of his .50 caliber rifle, his finger already on the trigger.
Tierney rolled her chair back, stretched and rolled her neck, picked up her purse, and stood up. Walking around her desk, she stopped to take her coat off the rack between her two office windows, presenting a perfect profile as she seemingly found reason to closely examine one sleeve. The sniper fired.
Instead of destroying the incoming round, my flitter used its field perimeter as I'd instructed; to capture the slug undamaged. I reached up and plucked the bullet out of the air above the deck as I sent a ping to Clarke's datapad.
"Clarke, did you get all that?"
The sniper fired again as Clarke replied, "Sure did."
"He just made a follow-up shot." I paused to pluck a second slug from the air and said, "A flitter probe will follow him and feed the info to your pad."
On my screen, the sniper did something I considered rather unusual; he lined up for yet another shot as Tierney shrugged herself into her coat. A moment later, the flitter intercepted a third bullet. The sniper picked up his spotter binoculars and stared through them for a moment, then started quickly disassembling his rifle and packing the parts into a molded plastic case.
"Hey, Ed," said Clarke, "How did you get Jonel to go along with us? I thought 3rd World was dead set against lending people to support FBI and CIA ops."
"I didn't ask. This is my flitter and you only wanted me to fly cover for a woman in DC while you nailed a sniper. If Jonel has a problem with that, she can tell it to a priest."
"Oh, holy shit! You're saying she doesn't know you're here?!"
"She might or might not know by now. Doesn't matter. I'm off the clock and I'm keeping a woman alive. The sniper's heading for the lift. Once he's aboard it, I'll get these rounds down to Harter. Tell Miz Tierney I think she's one hell of an actress, okay?"
"You bet. Harter's still at the van. Later, Ed. And thanks again."
"No problem, Clarke. See you later."
The flitter plummeted like a stone and stopped a foot above a white panel van with a plumbing company name on its sides. I hopped over the side and used a field platform to lower myself to the ground, then tapped on the van's passenger-side door. The blonde woman in the driver's seat saw me through the window, set her datapad on the dash, and opened the door for me.
I reached up to drop the three bullets into her hand, then turned to go, but she asked, "Hey! That's it?!"
Looking back, I said, "You have the slugs. You have a copy of the vids. What else do you want?"
She gave me a wry look. "No hello or goodbye?"
Meeting her gaze, I said, "Harter, five minutes after we met, you made a point of telling Stevens you weren't at all happy about me, so why bother with social bullshit?"
Her gaze tightened. "He told you I said that?"
"Hell, no. I heard you tell him."
"You couldn't have. You were in the next room with Clarke."
"Maybe you didn't notice the room partitions were just fabric-covered accordions, Harter. You were standing by the map on your side. I was standing by the map on our side. You said, 'Clarke pulled this guy out of thin air as far as I'm concerned. We don't know a damned thing about him except that he's been off our payroll for almost twenty years, so stay tight in case he fucks up big time. Make sure he doesn't take anybody else down with him'."
To her credit, Harter reddened slightly -- but only very slightly -- as she made an 'oh, my God!' sort of face and rolled her eyes.
"Uh... Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
With a grinning shrug, I replied, "Try it with Clarke. He's the guy you work for," just as gunshots sounded from the front of the unfinished building. My implant pinged half a second before Clarke said, "Zero on my pad, Ed! We're pinned by three shooters!"
As she looked in the direction of the shots, Harter asked, "Ed? What's..." but I'd already called up my board. Soaring around the building, I had my flitter guide the board to hover a hundred feet above Clarke's position and saw him hunkered behind a forklift with two other people as pistol fire peppered the forklift. Hm. All that shooting without valid targets? Someone was providing cover fire while someone else moved.
Using a field screen, I had the flitter show me the sniper. The guy was hauling ass toward a back fence as his two pals unloaded their weapons at the forklift. I sent stuns at all of them, then told Clarke where to look for them. As I lowered the board to the ground and let it disappear, Harter came running around a truck with her gun drawn. Leaving my screen up, I yelled, "All clear!" and waved her over to show her a probe view of Clarke and his people cuffing bad guys.
Holstering her gun, she asked, "What the hell was that... that thing... you were on?"
"It's how I get around when I'm not on the flitter. Aren't you supposed to be at the van?"
Her gaze narrowed as she flatly stated, "I'm also backup."
"Relax, it wasn't criticism. What would you bet at least one of the bad guys will claim diplomatic immunity?"
"No bet. The sniper is definitely Iranian. With Savak, in fact, but he's listed as an executive secretary by the embassy."
I chuckled, "No surprise there."
Clarke and the others came out of the building and we all headed back to the van. The prisoners were loaded and Harter climbed into the driver's seat as Clarke said, "Well, that's it. I guess we won't get to follow anybody after all."
"You could let one escape."
He shook his head. "Not in a convincing manner. We'll postpone charges and let forensics see what they can turn up during some quiet interrogations. Thanks again."
I grinned. "It was kinda fun to get out for a while."
"Well, let me know if you get in trouble about this. If Jonel fires you, I'll make you a spot on one of our teams." When I gave him a fisheye look, he sighed, "Yeah, right. Sorry. Forgot. No teams."
Harter's left eyebrow went up at that. "Why not?"
Glancing at her, I replied, "I prefer to work alone."
"Why?"
"Take me out for dinner and drinks and maybe I'll tell you."
For a long moment, Harter just looked at me, then her narrow, irritated gaze shifted to Clarke and back to me. She said, "That remark could easily qualify as sexual harassment."
I chuckled, "Or even a compliment. You just demonstrated perfectly one of the reasons I hate working with other people." Calling up my board, I said, "Later, Clarke," and lifted into the evening sky.
Once aboard my flitter, I headed back to Florida half-expecting Jonel to call and try to give me a hard time about working with Clarke. As the flitter landed, I saw the results of the thunderstorm that had been approaching when I'd left.
A pine tree had fallen in the neighbor's yard, thankfully missing everything but the ground. In my own yard an oak tree had broken and splintered and now tilted dangerously close to the house.
Using a thin field to slice the fallen oak tree into fifteen-inch pieces, I sat in the shade with an iced coffee and watched Tiger wander over and around the tree chunks.
My implant pinged with Denise Jonel's chimes. I answered with, "Hello? Who is this, please?"
She sighed, "Oh, very cute, Ed."
"Gee, lady, your voice sounds almost familiar. Give me a hint?"
"Can you remember anything about having a new boss?"
"Oh, yeah! Happened about a month ago, didn't it? Danielle... no, that's not it and don't tell me. Ahhh... Got it! Denise! I think. Yeah! And your last name starts with a 'J', doesn't it? Hey, doesn't matter, I'll look it up later. What's on your mind, ma'am?"
She shot back, "Firing you if you don't stop clowning around. How about putting up a screen?"
I did so and she appeared in a light brown skirt and jacket that fit her well without quite looking snug. I let her see my appreciation and said, "Wow. Nice outfit, Denise."
Addressing her directly by her first name in that manner was a test of sorts. She flunked it when her eyes hardened noticeably and she seemed to frost over a bit.
I regarded her in matching stony silence for a moment. "Right, then. I'll ask again; what's-on-your-mind?"
Jonel heard me enunciate each word of my question and seemed to stiffen before she replied in a rather schoolmarmish tone, "What were you doing in DC this afternoon?"
"Not DC. Alexandria. And if you really don't know, you don't belong in that chair."
She snapped, "Never mind what I know; what I want to know is why you think you can circumvent 3rd World policies."
"I saved a woman's life today. On my own time, no less. If that's against 3rd World's policies, they can explain it to the media when you fire me. Did you have any other reason for calling?"
A couple of seething moments passed before she replied, "Yes. I may have an assignment for you."
"You 'may' have an assignment? You don't know yet?"
She glowered at me and flatly replied, "I'm still deciding."
Sipping my coffee, I said, "Ah. Well, holler back when you're sure, ma'am. Anything else?"
For a moment she appeared to be considering various responses -- likely scathing responses, judging by her expression -- then she said, "Come to Carrington for a briefing this evening."
"Can't you just give me some details and let me get started on whatever it is?"
"I'd rather discuss the matter in person."
"Is that how Linda would do it?"
Through clenched teeth, she grated out, "Damn it, let's get something clear, Ed! It's my office now and I'd rather discuss this matter in person." She took a composing breath, then asked, "How soon can you be here?"
I shrugged. "An hour. Or less." I chuckled, "You should know that, too, ma'am."
Glaringly glancing at her watch, she snapped, "Make it an hour and a half. I should be free by then."
"Okay. Is that it for now?"
Studying me for a moment, she replied, "Yes. See you then," and tapped her 'off' icon. I let the field screen dissipate and went to take a shower. As I put on clean clothes, Serena popped into being beside my dresser in her usual cutoffs, sneaks, and blue blouse.
Letting my gaze travel up her until it locked on her ice-grey eyes, I said, "Hi, there, Flitter Goddess. How's the field scooter biz going?"
"It's soaring, of course. I thought you might like to discuss Jonel's intentions before you go to Carrington."
"Um... well, I think I might rather just sit here and stare at you, ma'am. I never tire of your gorgeous eyes, y'know."
Her 'gorgeous eyes' rolled and her face assumed a 'yeah, sure' expression as her gaze returned to me. She manufactured a sigh and said, "As that may be, I happen to know why she called you."
I put on a sneaker and said, "Kewl, ma'am. In that case, why'd she call me?"
"There have been recordings of anomalous field use in places where there should be no field manipulation devices. Jonel has sent probes to monitor the regions, but they've been unable to determine who may be creating the anomalies."
'Anomalies', huh? Yeah, I guess that's one way they'd see field uses by someone who wasn't on the right list. They'd want to know who and how at the very least, especially after all the trouble one nutcase kid with a PFM had caused at the factory station.
I asked, "Has anyone been hurt or killed as a result of any of the anomalous field uses?"
"Not according to records available."
"How big is the area and how many 'anomalies' have occurred?"
Putting up a field screen that displayed a red-boxed overhead view of what I recognized as a portion of Grand Canyon, Serena said, "Since April seventeenth, eight hundred and six incidents have been recorded in this area. None were recorded before then."
Studying the display, I noted that the elongated red rectangle extended from the tiny town of Cameron westward as far as Supai. The area encompassed about ten miles on both sides of the canyon and the largest numbers of green dots were concentrated in parking areas. Touching a green dot displayed the date and time and the length of time an anomaly existed and the amount of energy involved. I called up a graph. Most of the dots seemed to represent bursts that had lasted less than two seconds and used very little energy. Less than ten percent had lasted longer than a few seconds.
Looking at Serena, I asked, "How many of the dots coincide with reported car break-ins and thefts, ma'am?"
Canting her head slightly, she answered, "Eighty-three."
"Big stuff or little stuff? Cameras? Electronics? Credit cards?"
"Most of the reported thefts have involved small amounts of money or food and drink."
"Money left in cars? Likely small change, mostly. Any felony-sized thefts? Fifty bucks or more?"
Causing a few of the green dots to expand, Serena said, "Yes, but in each case a larger amount of money was ignored."
"So someone's using fields to pop door locks or pilfer. Didn't Jonel's probes watch for that sort of activity?"
With a small grin, Serena replied, "Apparently not, or not in any effective manner."
"Meaning nobody thought to tell the probes to look for it?"
Still grinning, Serena nodded. "Apparently so."
Sweeping a finger along some of the green dots lightly peppering the canyon walls and bottom, I said, "No parking lots in these places. Any indications of how the fields were used there?"
Serena shook her head. "No evidence was found."
"Hm. Hunting, then. Maybe. Or maybe self-defense. That place is still pretty wild when you get off the tourist trails." Putting on my left sneaker, I stood up and said, "And I'd bet the probes have been there since the rash of 'anomalies' started. How many did they send out before Jonel called me?"
My question made Serena laugh softly. "Seventy probes have been circulating within the region for the last forty-six days."
That gently amazed me. "Jeeezus! Not even one of them has been able to catch somebody using a field? What does that tell you?"
Laughing again, she said, "I'd prefer to hear what it tells you. After all, I've been among those who never thought to suggest the field surges might be related to petty thefts."
"Okay. Having already met a lady who could see fields, it tells me that someone in that area may not only be able to use fields, but may also be able to spot them. How's that sound, milady?"
Lifting an eyebrow, she replied, "Reasonable," and vanished.
Hm. I finished dressing and made a coffee, then pinged Tiger and Annabelle to ask if they wanted to come with me to Carrington. Tiger seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea and Annabelle reflected his attitude.
"No, Ed. Linda is not there."
"Other people are there, Tiger."
"But Linda is not."
"Okay. See you later, then."
"Okay."
Grabbing my backpack and cowboy hat, I called the flitter down as I headed outside, then formed a field platform and rose to meet it. As I aimed it at Carrington and settled back in my seat, I noticed how different things seemed to feel; I had almost zero enthusiasm and even felt an odd twinge of reluctance about the trip. I sipped coffee, put on some music, and gave my reluctance some thought. I'd never felt this way when Linda had been in charge. Well, almost never.
With a sigh, I thought, 'Oh, well. Give the new girl the chance you promised her,' and sipped again, setting the flitter's speed to kill most of an hour so I could check email and messages in discussion groups.
When I arrived at Carrington, I had the flitter park over the admin building and skimmed off the flitter's deck on my board, looping down to land at the front doors. The guy at the security desk wasn't Chuck; he was a stranger who -- though he checked my ID and obviously knew who I was because of my board -- made me wait as he called Jonel's office for authorization to let me into the building.
An ID check by some new guy I'd have readily understood, but that I suddenly needed authorization to enter the building came as a complete and unpleasant surprise. Handing my ID back, the guy passed me through and I got underway again.
There was a noticeable lack of traffic in the corridors as I headed for the mess hall to refill my coffee and grab a donut before the meeting. As I approached the mess hall's doors, I saw they were shut. I couldn't remember ever having seen them shut before. A sign on the right door became readable that said 'Hours of operation' and listed three two-hour serving times per day. Well, damn.
The clock above the doors said I'd have to wait half an hour, which was fifteen minutes too long even if I'd been willing to wait. I detoured to the security office -- historically a ready source of coffee and donuts -- and found the door locked, but almost as soon as I realized that, a buzzer sounded and the latch snapped back.
Entering the office, I found a lovely brunette lady in an Air Force uniform at a desk where before had been open floor space. I looked for the coffee pot along the left wall and it wasn't there.
Eyeing my shirt, jeans, and sneakers in a slightly critical manner, she asked in a flat tone, "May I help you, sir?"
"Yeah, where's the coffee bar? I have to kill a few minutes before a meeting with Jonel."
"The coffee service was removed, sir."
Looking appropriately amazed, I said, "No donuts I could almost understand, but a cop shop without coffee? Are you sure?"
Unamused, she replied, "Yes, sir, I'm sure."
I sighed, "Can't believe it. Oh, well. Is Cap'n Wallace in?"
Her gaze was direct as she replied, "No, sir," and offered no further info, such as when he might return.
Enough. I said, "Later, then," and turned to go, but she said, "Sir, I need to see your ID."
"Why? Is the base on alert or something? You think they'd have let me in without one?"
Her gaze narrowed. "Regulations, sir."
I showed it to her and she actually logged my card number, something else I couldn't remember ever having happened. I clipped the card back on my shirt pocket's flap and again turned to go.
She said, "Sir, you're supposed to wear your ID on its lanyard."
Saying, "Didn't get a lanyard with it. Don't really want one, either," I continued out of the office. A small motion near the ceiling above a water fountain nearby made me look and I watched a camera turn to aim at me. Her? Whatever. I sipped some of my remaining coffee, called up my board, and headed for Jonel's office, two corridor intersections away.
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