Retiree 2.0 Page 10

  Brett grinned at Alana, “Despite the promotion, I’m still a gofer.”

  Alana grinned in return as she opened the gate for Brett, and then followed him inside.

  “Hold still a minute,” Rhys said as he stepped behind Alana. He reached behind his neck and pulled out his interface cable, then connected it to the data port hidden behind Alana’s neck. He proceeded to caution, “When you activate the software, it’s going to feel rather odd. You’ll be surrendering partial control to your robotic side. If you have to stop, either say, ‘stop leaguer,” or use the drop down menu in your virtual interface.”

  A pair of boisterous teenage boys walked past their batting cage on their way out of the facility, carrying their bats and helmets, dressed in the patchwork street clothes that were the fashion of the day. One of them yelled, “Get a room, you two!” which prompted both Alana and Rhys to flash their badges simultaneously, which silenced the young ones and hastened their departure.

  Rhys said, “Kids these days.”

  Alana followed, “Juvenile law in the American Republic isn’t as lenient as it was in the United States. For better or worse.”

  Rhys used a virtual keypad to configure Alana’s batting app, and then unplugged his cable, carefully guiding it as it retracted into its concealed receptacle, “Do you ever miss having the chance at kids?”

  Alana turned around to face Rhys, “No. The last time I thought about it was when I had to coax some testimony out of my neighbor’s little girl while you were in Limbo, and the experience didn’t change my opinion. Are you bringing it up for a reason?”

  Rhys smiled, “Just curious.”

  There was a rumble as Brett dumped the bucket of baseballs into the pitching machine’s hopper.

  Brett and Rhys retreated to watch Alana take her at-bat. It took her the full dozen balls to do it, but she finally struck the target on the last pitch. She opened the gate and said, “You were right, Ben. That felt very strange, like I wasn’t in control. My body movements were automated. Let’s do one more round as a test.”

  The next time around, Rhys hit the target three times, and Alana hit it twice. She concluded, “So, we’ve proven that it’s possible, but still highly unlikely?”

  Rhys said, “We’re making about a twenty-five percent hit rate with no training, and very little practice. I played Little League baseball in my teens, so I knew what I was doing, which is probably why I hit it more than you did. I still had some residual muscle memory that was captured when I was saved. If you factor in Veedock being a professional baseball player, I’d not be surprised to see his hit rate go up to fifty percent. He might go even higher, since he’s a lead-off batter. What they call a contact hitter.”

  Brett said, “So, it’s a viable theory?”

  Rhys nodded, “I think so. Whether or not it’s true is another matter. There are still a lot of problems. First, baseball screens the players for that app to stop cheating. You’d have to prove he was using it. Then, there is the question of the probability of whether the pitcher could dodge the shot, although in Robertson’s case, he clearly didn’t. Finally, you need a motive.”

  Alana noted, “Comerford said that Veedock kept hitting himself when he should have stopped. Do you think that, if it was installed, that batting software could have overridden his safeties and kept him swinging?”

  Rhys said, “I don’t know. But it makes me want to uninstall it sooner than later.”

  Brett said, “Thank you very much for contributing your time and your expertise.”

  Rhys smiled, “You can owe me one.”

  Sunday, 9 July, 16:30

  When Alana, Brett, and Rhys stepped out of the elevator onto their office floor, they nearly collided with Inspector MacGruder and a trio of troopers from the same SWAT team that had accompanied them on the chop shop raid earlier in the week. Alana read the team leader’s last name from his ID badge, ‘Kyeong,’ and resolved to use it if further opportunities presented themselves.

  MacGruder looked up and down the corridor, as if to confirm that it was empty. He nodded to Rhys as he jammed his foot inside the elevator, “Rhys! Just in time. We were right about there being more than one shift in that warehouse. I found the others. Grab whatever you need for a field trip from the office and meet us down in the armory, stat.”

  Rhys stepped back inside the elevator and waited, “I’ve got everything I need.”

  Alana and Brett cleared the way, allowing the others to pile inside, “What’s going on, Maggie?”

  As the elevator doors slid shut, Maggie’s thick, Bostonian accent made him sound like a character from some action drama when he said, “Payback.”

  Brett looked at Alana, “Should we help them out?”

  Alana said, “I don’t know. I don’t like Maggie’s tone. I’m torn between following them and calling Chief Bennett. As a matter of fact, Vira, call Chief Bennett.”

  Brett pointed his thumb in the direction of their office, and Alana nodded. Brett turned and trotted away.

  “Hello, Chief? This is Chief Inspector Graves—”

  Bennett was curt, “What is it?”

  “Did Maggie—”

  Bennett cut her off, “Don’t you have duties to attend to, Inspector?”

  Alana started walking after Brett as she spoke, “Why do you want me to stay clear—”

  Bennett was consistent in his deliberate, officially deniable, evasion, “I never told you to stay clear of anything Inspector. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. One thing. I think that Inspector Crabtree is going to ask you to expand the Veedock murder investigation to include the death of the pitcher, Phil Robertson.”

  Alana heard the Chief smack himself on the forehead just before he said, “Do what?”

  Alana took her boss’ meaning, that whatever Maggie was doing was approved, but off-the record, but that didn’t stop her from rubbing it in, “I’m just giving you a heads-up. I don’t want you to be caught off-guard by it. Uninformed. In the dark. Out of the loop. You know, that kind of thing.”

  Bennett said, “Duly noted. Good day, Inspector. Keep up the good work.”

  Click.

  Alana walked to her office to find Brett already seated behind his desk, his hands manipulating the computer screen with a flurry of swipes and keystrokes on the virtual keyboard. She asked, “What are you working on?”

  “I’m looking at whether there are any public records connecting Veedock and Robertson, in case there was a clear motive.”

  Alana said, “You’re jumping the gun, though, aren’t you? You still need to confirm that Veedock was using the software.”

  Brett pushed his finger against a virtual document on his desktop and slid it to the corner closest to Alana, “He bought and downloaded a copy minutes after he bought the notepad from the airport. Here’s the receipt.”

  Alana said, “Well done. But that doesn’t mean it was installed, or that he was using it at the time Robertson was killed.”

  Brett said, “Which is why, Chief Inspector, I need you to go see Wen Jing now and ask her if there is any way she can scan Veedock’s hardware for traces of that program. In the meantime, I’ll be here, running these other queries.”

  “That sounds—”

  “What did the Chief say about Inspector MacGruder’s expedition?”

  Alana said, “Bennett didn’t say anything, which means he approved it. I think Maggie might have some different ideas about his mission than the Chief thinks he does. Frankly, I’m worried about Rhys getting dragged into it if anything goes wrong.”

  Brett remained focused on his Internet search, looking at his screen while talking, “That—what’s the right word...”

  “Disturbed?”

  Brett shook his head, “No. That’s not it. Not strong enough... Aggrieved. That’s it. I’m aggrieved by it. Is there anything you can do?”

  “Not without getting anyone in trouble. Let me run your errand to Wendy and get that out of the way. I’ll be back.�
�

  Alana left Brett alone to finger his desktop and quick stepped down the hall and around the corner to the lab. The door was now closed, with Wen Jing’s promotion party having been over for some time. The young woman was alone now, with the leftovers of her cake returned to its pasteboard storage box. She waved at Alana as she stepped inside, “Hello, Inspector. I’m still running—”

  Alana waved her off, “This is tangential. Can you tell whether a specific app was installed in Veedock’s subprocessor from its digital ghost?”

  Wen Jing said, “If I can find the ghost, maybe. But kind of like with a fingerprint, I’d need a matching snippet of the code to match it up.”

  Alana smiled, pointing to her head, “I’m way ahead of you. Got it right in here. Short of ripping my head off, can you extract it from my memory?”

  Wen Jing nodded, “Sure! Just step over to the terminal here and let me plug you in! When the pop-up appears in your field of view, focus on the ‘Allow’ button and double-blink.”

  Alana suddenly perked up, having an epiphany about how she could help Rhys, “That’s it! Shit, I’m getting old.”

  Wen Jing was, understandably, confused, “Pardon?”

  “It’s not important, but thanks for giving me the idea. Remind me and I’ll explain when we have more time.”

  Less than a minute later, Wen Jing had extracted a copy of the Texas Leaguer Pro app and stored it on the lab’s computers. She declared, unplugging the cable from Alana’s nape, “We’re done! All your apps are belong to us!”

  It was Alana’s turn to be confused, “Was that English?”

  Wen Jing aped Alana’s previous words, “Remind me and I’ll explain when we have more time.”

  Alana started for the door immediately, “Tack the results of that inquiry onto the report and let Brett know when it’s ready. Oh, and thank you.”

  Alana hurried out the door and scampered back to her office, where she plopped down in her chair. She said, “Vira, call Detective Benjamin Rhys.”

  Rhys answered, furtively, “Yes?”

  “Ben, this is Alana. Don’t say anything more than you have to. I spoke with Chief Bennett, and I’m concerned that Maggie may have something in his mind other than just arresting the people he’s after.”

  Rhys said, “Then, what can I do for you?”

  “I had an idea. If you will allow me to do it, I can stream an image from your camera to my desktop so I can watch what’s transpiring in real-time.”

  “Why?”

  “So you’ll have a witness in case Maggie orders you to do something illegal. I might also be able to help you out if things get hot. I’m also worried that these people may have some military grade gear, and you might get in over your heads. That battle suit we fought in the warehouse was not something they could have gotten legally, and if they had that, they might have something just as bad up their sleeves.”

  “All right. How do I do that?”

  “Glance at your interface menu button at the top right of your field of vision and right-blink on it.” Alana walked Rhys through the commands to uplink his visual feed. Alana manipulated her interface, and Rhys saw a translucent pop-up box that read, ‘Alana Graves wants to access your camera view. Allow? [Yes] or [No].’ She asked, “Did you get my access request?”

  “Yes.”

  “Double-blink where it says, ‘yes.’”

  Rhys said, “Done. Did it work?”

  Alana’s desktop lit up, displaying the wide-angle, stereoscopic, cinematic view from Rhys’ internal camera. He was sitting in the middle of the back seat of a police car. Maggie was in the driver’s seat, and the SWAT team leader was in the passenger seat. There were two other men, dressed in tactical gear, seated on either side of Rhys, and although she could not see their full features, she concluded that they were the other officers who had accompanied Maggie when they entered the elevator some time before. Alana answered, “Yes, Ben. I can see you.”

  The passenger was holding onto a notepad, and it was displaying a satellite map of the area through which their car was driving. He said, “Turn right into the next alleyway. We should be able to walk the rest of the way in defilade.”

  Alana moved her fingers across the virtual controls on her desktop, and the same overhead view appeared in a separate window. She said, “It looks like you are in the warehouse district, near the harbor, but within the actual Port of Los Angeles?”

  “Yes.”

  Maggie said, “Rhys, finish up your phone call as soon as you can. I’ll need you focused.”

  Alana preempted, “Ben! Just blink twice quickly for yes, and once for no, but stay on the line, okay?”

  Rhys blinked twice quickly as he answered his boss, “Yes, Inspector MacGruder. I’ll call you back after we’re done, Chief Inspector Graves. Goodbye.”

  True to Alana’s request, Rhys did not disconnect, and the first-person, live-action camera continued to broadcast as the police car’s tires squealed as it whipped into a one-lane alley. As the camera bounced, Alana could see that MacGruder was driving the car manually, not relying on autopilot. Alana said, “If Maggie’s trying to sneak up on them, he’s doing a shitty job.”

  Rhys blinked twice.

  As the car glided to a stop in a small parking lot at the far end of the alleyway, Brett stood and walked over to Alana’s desk, stopping at the side to watch the action, “Are you talking to Rhys?”

  Alana nodded.

  Brett asked, “Can he hear me?”

  Rhys blinked twice and Alana nodded.

  The five policemen piled out of the car. MacGruder popped the latch on the trunk before exiting the vehicle. The team lined up in single file to take out body armor, helmets, and submachine guns. Rhys declined the heavier firepower, instead grabbing several different magazines for his service pistol. Alana said, “Ben, use your drop-down menu to connect to your pistol’s hardware. You’ll be able to tell what kind of ammo you’re using and how many shots you have left. When the safety’s off, you’ll see a target reticule appear where the pistol thinks it’s going to hit. You can also plug your hardwire into the base of the grip if you have to use radio silence.”

  Rhys blinked twice, and Alana could see him doing as she had suggested. At the bottom right of his screen, an indicator appeared telling everyone privy to his internal camera that he was using Tesla cartridges, and that he had six shots in the weapon.

  MacGruder said, “Lock and load.”

  The team checked their weapons, popping in magazines and cycling bolts, and the text on Rhys’ heads-up display changed color to yellow. Alana said, “The color tells you that your weapon is primed, but that the safety is on. When it’s both chambered and unlocked, that text will turn red.”

  Rhys again blinked twice in acknowledgement.

  Brett asked, “Is the Chief Inspector telling you anything you didn’t already know?”

  Rhys blinked once, prompting Alana to glare at Brett. Brett said, “I just didn’t want you to distract him unnecessarily. He’s been retired and active for a few weeks, so I assumed that they’d trained him already. I know you care about Detective Rhys, but don’t be a mother hen.”

  Alana’s glare intensified as she remembered how no one told her these things, and how she had to figure everything out by herself. Things must have changed for new retirees in the last three decades. Brett only smiled and winked.

  Closing the trunk, MacGruder took the notepad-map from Kyeong. He pointed at the satellite view of the buildings and said, “Okay, here’s my plan. This building is our target. I don’t want to go in blind like Graves did in the warehouse the other day.”

  Brett watched Alana’s expression, and from the intensity of her grimace, he presumed that her hydraulic pressure spiked. At least she wasn’t glaring at him anymore.

  Alana said, “Ben, isn’t Maggie calling for additional backup?”

  Rhys blinked once.

  MacGruder continued, “Since it’s the middle of July in Los Angeles, We’r
e going to set up an ambush blind right here.”

  One of the troopers pointed to a large, metal box resting at the base of the building and asked, “What’s that?”

  The other one said, “That’s an HVAC unit.”

  MacGruder said, pointing to that trooper, “Exactly. Once we’re in position, I want Michaels here to disable their air conditioner. I’m betting that since this is Sunday, they’ll send one or two men out to investigate. When they do, we’ll arrest them.”

  SWAT leader Kyeong said, “So, we’ll swelter in the sun waiting for them to get uncomfortable. Roger that. How long will we wait on them?”

  MacGruder said, “As long as we have to. If they don’t come out by sundown, we’ll go in after them under cover of darkness. Everyone has their night vision gear, right?”

  A round of acknowledgements circled among the team.

  Rhys asked, “What about the others? Didn’t you say there were four suspects?”

  MacGruder said, “We’ll secure whoever comes out and then go in.”

  “What if they spot us? What then?”

  “Then we’ll call for backup and cordon off the area so they can’t escape.”

  Alana said, “Ben, you need to be extra careful here. I think those people have some military training, or at least access to military hardware. I also think you need to call for backup now, but that’s Maggie’s business.”

  Rhys blinked twice in agreement, and said, “Might it not be prudent to bring in some extra assets earlier? Even if we have them stay in reserve?”

  MacGruder said, tapping his heel against the asphalt, “No. If we escalate this through the formal channels, I’m pretty sure that Security Division would swoop in and take our prisoners away before we can give them the third degree. But if anyone asks, this was entirely my idea. Is everyone ready to move?”

  Another round of nods and yes sirs followed, and the team moved off toward their target, with the SWAT team leader guiding them from cover to cover in a bounding overwatch formation. They all ducked out of sight when Rhys accidentally kicked a discarded plastic bottle. When nothing happened in the space of a minute, they resumed their leapfrogging advance.