Mark Young - Off the grid

The line cut off.

Richard knew his time was short.

Albuquerque, New Mexico

As Beck Malloy drove up, he saw floodlights set up as dusk settled over the flat dessert terrain.

A small army of federal investigators descended on the torn-up remains of Millennium Technologies. FBI, ICE, Homeland Security, ATF, and a host of other agencies-including Albuquerque PD-milled around the staging area.

The entire compound had been cordoned off. Armed law enforcement-local and state officers, some with dogs-walked the perimeter, guarding against any spectators, rubberneckers, or media slipping inside. It was as if a small army had descended upon this quiet industrial park after someone declared war.

Beck flashed his credentials to an officer guarding access to an ever-expanding parking lot. He parked his car, striding over to where the command center had been set up in an eighteen-wheeler trailer. Occasionally, a helicopter passed overhead, floodlights flashing back and forth as the flight crew searched for intruders from their vantage point above.

His target, a heavyset agent with a protruding gut wearing a blue FBI windbreaker. “Special Agent Stephen Riker. We spoke on the phone.” Beck extended his hand.

The other man squinted at him suspiciously for a moment. “Beck? Beck Malloy?” He shook Beck’s hand.

“The one and only.”

“Long way from D.C., my man. What brings you out to my neck of the woods?”

“Terrorism, for starters. What kind of lab is this?”

Riker stiffened. “Don’t yank my chain, Malloy. I checked you out after your call. I saw your security clearance. You tell me what’s going on here.”

Beck was getting tired of always playing cat and mouse with these guys. They were just hard-working agents trying to do their job. This was the down side of working intelligence. “That’s what I’m here to find out, Riker. What have you learned so far?”

Not buying it, Riker looked at him in disbelief. “Okay. You want to play it that way. Fine! I was told to cooperate, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy getting jerked around. Not in a case I’m supposed to investigate.” The agent gave Beck the detail on the lab he’d already learned directly from Jack Thompson and Gerrit O’Rourke.

“Anybody get hurt?” Beck already knew the answer, but he wanted Riker to believe this was all new information.

Riker studied Beck closer. “After the intruders fled the scene, the chopper pulled away and SWAT found one man dead just inside the building. He must have been a third intruder, but it looked like one of his own killed him. Stabbed in the leg and double-tap to the head. Close range.”

“Body been identified?”

“Not yet. Running prints and facial photos through the system. Nothing has shown up yet, which is unusual. The dead guy looks like he may have done time, run up against cops somewhere. But the system isn’t giving us any leads.”

“Let me see the guy’s mug,” Beck said. Riker handed him a printout of a digital photo they took at the scene before the coroner arrived. Beck studied the face for a moment. “Not anyone I recognize. White supremacy, maybe?”

Riker shrugged. “Who knows. This kind of operation is more sophisticated than those Nazi wannabe types we normally run into. This was state-of-the-art equipment they used to get into this place. Big money.” Riker was still upset.

“Look, I don’t know much about this. All I can tell you is this might be connected to Senator Summers’s killing and the murders up in Seattle. We’re trying to put the pieces together.”

“You mean that Seattle cop that went missing?”

Beck played along. “Like I said, we don’t really have anything solid at this time.” He glanced toward the open door. “Computer forensics going over the lab?”

“They were going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Taking everything they can…until the call came.”

“What call?”

Riker’s eyes narrowed. “Somewhere high up the food chain. Orders came down to focus only on the intrusion and murders. Stay away from the lab. National security and all that.”

“Is Bobby Chan on the forensic team here on-site?”

“Uh-huh. He’s packing up as we speak. You might be able to catch him in the parking lot.”

“Thanks.” Beck headed for the door. He found Bobby just about to climb into the driver’s seat. “Hold up a minute, my man.”

“Beck Malloy. I thought you’d show up.”

“Whatcha mean?” Beck said.

Chan leaned against the car, arms folded. “I’ve been here all day, and then we get this order to shut down. Before I can get out of the parking lot you show up. Is this your doing?” He glanced toward the lab, bathed in darkness. “You shut us down?”

“No way. In fact, I was hoping you could tell me what you learned.”

Puzzled, Chan unfolded his arms and stroked his jaw. “So if you didn’t shut us down, where did the order come from?”

“I don’t know, but I’d sure like to find out. I know you, Bobby. You don’t walk away because some boss tells you to. Did you get anything?”

A cagey smile emerged on Chan’s face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a USB drive. “I made a backup file to what I downloaded into my own laptop. Just in case some congressional watchdogs come snooping around wanting to know why we didn’t follow protocol and seize everything I have. Been down this road before. Politics always seem to come between us and getting the job done.”

“Can I take that with me, Bobby?”

A moment of indecision shone in Chan’s eyes. Reluctantly, he handed Beck the computer drive. “Guard it carefully. I don’t know what’s all on there, but the little I saw blew my mind.”

Grasping the drive, Beck glanced around to see if anyone might be watching. Riker was standing near the trailer, watching them. Shielding his movement from Riker, Beck hid the drive in a jacket pocket. “What did you see, Bobby?”

The computer specialist shook his head. “I saw plans to invade every electronic device known to man and decrypt anything we have ever tried to protect. I’m talking about code breakers on NSA and CIA encrypted fields, corporate security systems. The works. I have never seen anything like it.”

Beck watched Riker disappear into the command trailer. “That’s why I am here. To find out just how bad this company has exposed our national secrets. If this got out, it would make the WikiLeaks fiasco child’s play. Anyone who controls this technology might easily control the U.S. Maybe even the world.”

Chan whistled. “Maybe it’s a good thing we were ordered out of the lab.”

Somberly, Beck placed a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “Just be careful. That information you just downloaded could get you killed. Watch yourself.”

“You too, Beck. If the wrong person finds out why you are here, they’re going to slap a bull’s eye on your backside and invite anyone to collect a bounty on your head.”

Beck thanked the agent and moved away. It was only a matter of time before they started to put the pieces together. Only a matter of time until they learned who he was protecting.

One of them might already be in harm’s way. He prayed Joe O’Rourke would survive.

Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, Arizona

Gerrit spotted a sleek-nosed business jet ahead as their motorized cart drew near. He and the others made their way toward the plane, no one talking. Everyone seemed to be moving like zombies, still numbed by the fact that one of their own turned out to be a Judas and their leader turned up missing. Exhaustion and betrayal seemed to zap their strength.

Hours earlier, Jack Thompson arranged to get them on a smaller, luxury craft-a twin-engine 1980 Beechcraft King Air 200. A pilot patiently waited for them on a gravel strip just off Interstate 40 west of Albuquerque. They loaded up, then took off for Phoenix-no questions asked by the pilot. For all he knew, they could have been a bunch of drug runners just in from Mexico. The pilot most likely dealt with the colonel in the past and knew better than to inquire about Thompson’s travel partners.