Mark Young - Off the grid

“-she was talking to the woman who betrayed them.”

“But Joe said you changed. That you told them about the threat.”

Alena nodded. “At first your dad was shocked. And your mom…well, let’s say her idea about us getting together just flew out the chimney.”

“Window, out the window,” he said, trying to smile. “And yet, here we are.” His joke didn’t seem to lighten the moment.

“Then your dad seemed to pull things together. For some reason, he became concerned about the threat against your uncle. He tried to warn Joe, but something happened.”

“Yeah, Kane’s men tried to force him to walk on air. A life-changing event that made him back away from Dad.”

“Until after the bombing. Then Joe had a change of heart. We started running from that day until now.”

“You probably saved his life, Alena. Joe has faith in you.”

“Actually, Joe saved me. Did you know your uncle is a Christian? A believer?”

Gerrit must have looked shocked.

“It is true. He is the one who got me going to church. I was carrying a lot of guilt after your folks. He helped me straighten out my head.”

“From what I could tell, Joe believed in you from the time you first met, Alena. I could tell by the way he urged me to give you a chance.”

“And you?” Her eyes searched his. “What do you think of me now?”

He cleared his throat. “I think we’ve all made mistakes. I include myself in that group.” He briefly thought of his father’s face that day, clouded with frustration. “I walked away from my own father when he needed me most. He may have died because I was not there to protect him.”

“He was trying to protect you, Gerrit.”

“I never got a chance to clear things up. And now, it’s too late.”

He heard the whirling thump of rotor blades. Another chopper headed in their direction. “That must be Beck and Thompson. Maybe they have some news.” He welcomed this intrusion. He didn’t want to dwell on memories he was powerless to change. Nor did he want to talk about a future that might have been.

It was like the last time he saw his folks before returning to the battlefield. Putting his personal affairs in order and placing everything on hold until-or if-he ever returned from war. One never knew whether he would survive the next conflict.

Again, after his houseboat was bombed and his friends were killed, he found himself in the same mindset. Putting his affairs in order. Placing his feelings on the shelf. As far as he could determine, he would never be able to enjoy a normal life again.

It was not his destiny to settle down, have a family, and live as if life offered more tomorrows. He had become a warrior, first in defense of his country and now for his country’s survival. He would be fighting a war the rest of the nation-the world-might never hear about. A war fought in the shadows, in the night, in those dark places that are only known by those like him-living and dying in that gray shroud of a secret war.

Take this skirmish tonight. People died, dreams became crushed, and tomorrow-no one would even know they’d been here. A news blackout would drop an impenetrable curtain over this whole affair. The only ones who might wonder would be medical staff watching the wounded and dying carried into their emergency rooms.

He and Alena watched in silence as the helicopter drew nearer, as if the past no longer existed, his folks and their dreams left behind. They both needed to live in the present and prepare for the struggle ahead. Circumstances dictated their lives now. They needed to get used to it.

Gerrit turned to Alena. “Just one more question.”

She nodded.

“How did you know the lab code here? You knew right where to go and which codes to press.”

“This was our base of operations when I was turned loose on your folks. Back then, this was just a training and housing facility. It wasn’t until I saw Willy’s site plans that I knew where we were headed. Once I got here, I took a chance that Kane left the same codes in place. I was right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew that everything would have to come out. We just did not have the time to stand around and dredge up my past.”

He nodded, turning as the helicopter approached. “Someone knew we were coming and alerted Kane. I know it wasn’t you. So that leaves us with a big problem.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing, Gerrit. Who turned us in?”

Gerrit and Alena waited for the chopper to set down before approaching the aircraft. As soon as it came to rest, Beck Malloy and Jack Thompson emerged. They crouched down until they cleared the rotors and then dashed to where he and Alena stood waiting.

The colonel was the first to reach them. “Good work, Marine. You too, Alena. You cut the head off this operation before it could cause further damage.”

Gerrit watched Willy running across the clearing in their direction. “I don’t know how much damage we did, Colonel. Project Megiddo is still in place.”

Willy, out of breath, reached them at about the same time Beck walked up. “I heard what you said about Megiddo, Mr. G.” His nickname for Gerrit made Jack scowl, but the colonel seemed to keep his thoughts to himself. “I ran a data systems check just before you guys started WWIII.”

Beck interjected. “Did it take, Willy? Tell me you got inside.”

Nodding, Willy turned to Gerrit. “Remember how I had you upload their files in Albuquerque?”

Gerrit nodded.

“Well, as you know, I left a surprise present for them, thanks to you, Mr. G.”

Gerrit smiled. “I meant to ask you about that, Willy, but everything was happening so fast. What kind of mischief did you get me involved in?”

“Since you guys were already going into their system, I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone. Joe and I created a certain kind of computer program that buries itself inside their system.”

Gerrit was incredulous. “You infected their programs?”

“I didn’t infect anything. I just expanded their program without their knowing it. See, I thought that whoever ran that lab would want to back up their system somewhere other than the site you guys hit. Just in case something like that did happen.”

Willy seemed to be waiting for compliments from the others. None were forthcoming, so he continued. “Wherever they transfer their programs or search other sites-in this case, here in the state of Washington-they unknowingly carry my program. I’m calling it the Daemon Files.”

Gerrit scoffed. “You didn’t come up with that term, Willy. A daemon program is a computer term that’s been around for ages.”

“I didn’t say I came up with the term.” Willy looked miffed. “I’m just using it to describe this program Joe and I developed.” Willy’s excitement grew the more he talked. “As I was saying my little daemon program has a twist. It will sit out in the weeds, so to speak, staying dormant and undetected among the program’s codes until conditions change in the Megiddo computer processes or we want daemon to come out to play. Then my computer friend kicks in, automatically sending us information on how the Megiddo program is being used or giving it messages we want them to have-unknowingly.”

“You mean like a spy telling us what the enemy’s up to?”

“You got it, Mr. G. And the beauty of this daemon is that I can trigger a change or a redirection in their program whenever I choose. It gives me remote access and control.”

“Give me an example.”

“Better yet, I’ll just show you. Let’s step into the lab’s lobby-what’s left of it after you two got through-and let me get set up.”

Willy led them through the doorway, pausing for a moment until he saw a reception desk a few yards away. He plopped his laptop on the counter and powered up. “I am going to access their program and monitor any traffic they may have initiated since you hit this place.”