Imagine (Fuzed Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Josh stepped off onto the wooden deck that framed the boat slip. As he tied the bowline to a cleat, he said, “I thought the CIA wasn’t created until after WWII.”

  “It wasn’t.” Tim trimmed the outboard motors up and out of the water. “My grandfather was a Navy Chief Warrant Officer when this was a military base.” He stepped off the boat and secured the aft line. Nodding toward the shore, he said, “I rent out the main house — you can see through the trees — but I kept the boathouse for our use whenever we’re in town.”

  Josh looked skeptically at the weather-beaten structure above him. He estimated the living area was only 30 by 25 feet.

  Tim’s phone rang. Glancing at the number, he told Josh, “Go ahead. I’ll be right up.”

  Josh stepped outside onto a narrow deck that wrapped most of the boathouse perimeter. He heard the squawk of seagulls, and looking up river, saw broken wooden piers jutting out of the water. At one time, they must have underpinned a large dock. Now, they were simply convenient perches for the gulls and pelicans. Tracing the brown pilings back to the land, he saw white oyster shells covering the shoreline. He guessed it had been an oyster dock in the time of Tim’s grandfather.

  Walking around the narrow dock to the shore side of the boathouse, he saw a rickety-looking wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. Despite appearances, the steps felt solid as he climbed to what he guessed was the “front door.” He stood on the small landing and knocked.

  The door opened on a hot-looking, petite, Latino woman with attitude. Dr. Sheri Lopez smiled and said, “Get your butt in here.” Looking behind him, she said, “Where’s Tim?”

  Josh said, “He fell off the boat. Sharks ate him. What’s for dinner?”

  She laughed. “I’d be more concerned about the sharks. Let me guess, he’s on the phone.”

  Josh nodded. “Yup.”

  She shook her head and said, “Come here.” They hugged like family.

  As he stepped back, he grinned at her. “Man, it’s good to see you again, Sheri. You look awesome.”

  Grinning back, she said, “And you’re still cute as a bug.” Pulling him in, she nodded toward the living area. “Make yourself comfortable. Playoffs will be starting soon. Can I get you something to drink?”

  In his best Oxford accent, he said, “Budweiser ... shaken not stirred.” As he looked around, he realized the outside was merely a disguise for an amazing little vacation home. Beautifully decorated in a modern nautical theme, it had bamboo hardwood floors and matching walls dominated by large windows that looked out over the river. There was a small but fully equipped kitchen complete with granite countertops. He headed for the living area. It had a plush-looking dark blue couch and two matching recliners facing a giant wall TV. Josh confirmed the comfort by plopping onto the couch.

  Sheri pulled a beer from the fridge and lobbed it at him.

  He barely caught it, as he heard her say, “Shaken, not stirred.”

  Setting the beer on the coffee table to settle, he found the remote.

  Sheri, with a glass of wine in hand, joined him. “Fill me in on what happened after you got yourself shot.”

  He caught her up on his recovery, their simple wedding and then quickly covered their adventure in Columbia. Then he asked, “Tim saved my butt.” He paused. “So, how are you and Tim doing?”

  She smiled. “We’re getting married ... but you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.” She laughed. “No. I mean, really, it’s a secret. He says it’s for my own protection.” She shook her head. “Whatever.”

  Josh grinned. “Congratulations! How’d you pull that off?”

  Sheri shook her head. “I didn’t. Remember, I’m the pragmatic one. I would’ve been happy just living together. He insisted.” Smiling she said, “Tim’s thoughtful, patient and,” she added quietly, “romantic. I’m such a sucker for you strong, silent types.” She tilted her head slightly. “I think he’s happy, too, but he’s so dang quiet, it’s hard to tell sometimes ... and I’m a psychiatrist.”

  With a smile, Josh said, “A wise woman once told me, ‘You’re too close. It’s like trying to read yourself.’”

  She laughed. “Did I say that?”

  He nodded and then carefully asked, “How’s he doing with the ... accident?”

  She sighed softly. “He still has nightmares.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t his fault. Anyone who saw someone coming through a window at night — dressed in black and holding what looked like a gun — would have fired.” She shook her head gently, staring past him. Then looking back at him, added, “But he created an anonymous trust fund for her children. That’s helped him deal with it.” Sighing again, she concluded, “We’ll keep working on it.”

  Josh nodded. After a respectful pause, he asked, “Sheri, can I ask you a psychology question?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  She laughed. “On whether I feel like answering it or not.”

  He smiled and pulled out his phone. Calling up the text with Jen, he handed it to her. “Need your professional opinion on how to handle this.”

  Sheri took the phone and started reading. After a few minutes, she looked up at him with raised eyebrows and a slight smile. “So, you really aren’t quite human?”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I want your opinion on.” Waving at his phone, he said, “She’s obviously very intelligent and has latched onto me.” He paused. “But I’m concerned about her and want to make sure I’m saying the right things.”

  Sheri shrugged. “Josh, it’s tough with nothing but text.” She paused. “But if I were to guess, I’d say she’s probably high-genius level. Obviously very techno savvy, but with her intelligence, that’s not surprising. I have a three-year-old niece that can operate my iPhone better than I can.” She shrugged and handed the phone back. “She clearly has an affinity for you.”

  Frowning, Josh said, “So, am I doing the right thing by talking to her?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not the right person to ask. I have no background in child psychology, I’m not a parent and I really don’t even like kids.”

  He just looked at her.

  She sighed. “You’re doing fine. You’re answering her questions honestly, but keeping the concepts simple.” She smiled. “I think she’s lucky to have you in her life.”

  “Thanks, Sheri.” Changing the subject, he asked, “So, when do you think they’re going to give me my Aston Martin?”

  She looked thoughtful. “Josh, do you like fishing?”

  “What?”

  “Do you like to fish?”

  He shook his head and said, “No.” Then added, “I mean I might if you actually caught fish instead of sitting around staring at fishing line. Why do you ask?”

  “I can’t stand fishing either, but Tim loves it. Josh, you and I are thrill-seekers.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself a thrill-seeker.”

  She looked at him incredulously. “You jumped off a cliff, stole a fighter and ejected over the South Pole.”

  “I had to.”

  She shook her head with a slight smile. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never done anything impulsive or dangerous that you didn’t have to do?”

  “Maybe.”

  With raised eyebrows, she said, “Well?”

  He gave her a half-smile. “When I was a lieutenant, I took a fighter on a cross country flight to Yuma, Arizona, to get some instrument time. Visited a high school buddy and his family. From the questions they asked, it was clear they had no idea what I did. They actually asked me if I’d ever flown upside down. So ... when they took me back to the base, I noticed a knoll at the end of the runway. Told them to go there after they dropped me off.” He shook his head. “The departure instructions were to make an immediate right turn after takeoff. I took off, sucked up my landing gear and hugged the runway. As I flew over their heads, I turned ... but instead of rolling right, I rolled in the opposite direction, went upside down and
then turned right.” Josh shook his head again. “An aileron roll on takeoff is a huge flight violation.” He laughed. “And doing it that close to the ground is ... well ... usually fatal. I spent the next two weeks waiting to be called into the Skipper’s office and lose my wings. A Marine friend told me later that he was on the base golf course with a general. Fortunately, the general was busy lining up a putt, and the Marines in the tower never turned me in.”

  Sheri laughed. “That qualifies, and I can identify. Josh, we’re like that poster of the two vultures sitting on the branch. One vulture says to the other, ‘Screw it. Let’s kill something.’”

  “I don’t think they said ‘Screw it.’”

  “I was being polite. The point is — you and I don’t like annoying details ... details that can sometimes keep us alive. That’s why we usually hook up with our opposites.”

  Josh laughed. “OK. So what are you trying to say?”

  With an impish smile, she said, “You’re courageous, intelligent and a girl magnet. You’d make a great James Bond.”

  He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t think so. Besides ... in real life, James Bond would make a terrible spy.”

  She laughed. “Exactly!” Still smiling she continued, “But I think you and Tim together would make an amazing team. You’re opposites in so many ways, and that makes you complementary. For example, you’re the big picture guy with amazing abilities. Tim’s incredibly knowledgeable and phenomenally observant. He’s the detail guy. He knows where the next bullet’s coming from. Work together and you could be formidable.” She looked thoughtful. “And,” she sighed, “people in Tim’s line of work don’t have many real friends.” She paused. “He needs one. There’s no one he trusts more than you.”

  Josh looked surprised. “I seriously doubt that. I pulled him into a fake black program and almost got him killed.”

  Looking serious, Sheri said, “And saved his life ... in more ways than one.”

  As if on cue, the door opened and Tim came in.

  Looking up from the couch, Josh said, “Sheri says I’d totally suck as a spy and need adult supervision.”

  Sheri corrected, “I said you have complementary talents and would make a dynamic duo.”

  Josh shook his head with a half-smile. “I ain’t wearing green tights.”

  Smiling, Sheri said, “Too bad.”

  Tim shook his head, but actually smiled. Then, back to serious, he said, “That was the agency. They’ve got a lead on who stole your files.”

  19

  IMAGINATION

  Tim said, “Talked to the Cyber Warfare guys. They figured out how they broke in. The hackers used the iMagine digital assistant to gain access.”

  Josh pulled his iMăge cyber glasses from his pocket. “I use these and that app all the time.”

  Tim said, “Everyone does. If you want to cause the most damage, you target the most universal software, the app that’s on practically every phone.”

  Josh nodded. “Makes sense.”

  Tim added, “Apparently, the hackers found a backdoor into the app, one that somehow controls the phone’s basic functions.” He frowned slightly. “The cyber guys suggested that the iMagination Corporation apps are protected by a lot of encryption and would be hard to hack without inside information.”

  Josh nodded. “So, the hackers may have access to someone at iMagination?”

  Tim shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but it’s all we got. Their corporate headquarters are in Atlanta. Let’s go there tomorrow and talk to the app’s program manager. See where that takes us.”

  They watched basketball playoffs while eating a spicy Cajun dinner of shrimp, beans and rice. Sheri had the magic touch — just enough spice to raise a little sweat. After the game, they were having another beer when Josh remembered Sam. “Tim, I can’t believe you told those students about my getting shot.”

  Tim said, “Me? You’re the one who gave away state secrets.”

  Josh shook his head. “I didn’t tell them any details. I just recounted what you did.”

  “And you think that group isn’t going to put the puzzle pieces together?”

  Josh smiled. “Who are they going to tell?”

  Tim shrugged. “Well, I just returned the favor.” He paused. “By the way, one of them took a particular interest in you. She wouldn’t stop asking questions.”

  Josh said, “Tell me about it. She followed me to the pool and suggested we do homework together for the upcoming seduction class. I should have filed sexual harassment charges.”

  Sheri gave him a disgusted smile. “You’d be more convincing if you weren’t grinning like a Cheshire cat.”

  Still grinning, Josh said, “It was just awful.”

  She shook her head. “Guys are so simple.”

  Tim added, “There’s no such thing as seduction class.”

  Sheri laughed. “I rest my case.”

  Josh realized that aside from Elizabeth, these were the first people he’d felt completely comfortable with since his return.

  The next day, Tim set up the meeting in Atlanta. He dropped Josh back at the base by boat and told him to meet him at the Norfolk airport.

  After a shower, he changed into Tim’s recommendation for interview/interrogation clothes. It was a more casual version of Men In Black.

  On the way to the airport, he checked in with Jen, voice texting, “Hi, Jen, how are you doing?”

  “I’m totally bored.”

  “Do you play games?”

  “I like Angry Birds, but I mastered all the levels. Now it’s no fun.”

  “What type of games do you play with other kids?”

  “I don’t get to play with other kids.”

  Josh’s heart went out to this little girl. Even if she had the same enhanced DNA he did, he had a previous life; she didn’t. He couldn’t help but wonder if whoever named her was playing a cruel joke, and the correct spelling of her name might be G E N, as in Genetic experiment.

  “Why can’t you play with other kids?”

  There was a slight delay. “I’m kind of grounded.”

  “What did you do?”

  She ignored his question and asked, “Will you play a game with me?”

  He smiled. What was it with kid’s affinity for fighter pilots? Stupid question. The answer was obvious — fighter pilots were just taller children. They tried some word games, finally settling on one she enjoyed. She learned fast, and they played it most of the trip. As he arrived at the airport, he told her to find some other games that were fun and challenging.

  It was a quick flight to Atlanta. Tim told Josh he’d scheduled a meeting with iMagine’s program manager, Ryan Armani. Armani was told they were NSA agents and needed to ask him some technical questions regarding a matter of national security. He used the NSA because it wasn’t that unusual for the agency to be in contact with companies that dealt in social media.

  iMagination headquarters was a large, modern, glass and steel edifice 20 miles north of Atlanta. As soon as they arrived, they were ushered into a conference room. Armani sat at a small table with a Diet Coke. As they came in, he stood up and shook their hands. Tim and Josh showed their official counterfeit NSA IDs and sat down.

  Not wasting time, Tim asked, “Have there been any hacker attempts on the iMagine application?”

  Armani’s roundness belied his nervous energy. He spoke very fast. “Of course. We’re on billions of phones. That automatically makes us a target for hackers and viruses, but we have extensive firewalls and encryption systems designed by some of the best minds in the industry.”

  Josh said, “So you’re saying you haven’t had any successful intrusions into your system?”

  Armani looked down. “We’ve had a couple minor penetrations, but they were nothing more than pranks. Since then, we’ve put in a monitoring system that scans for the most minute code change 100 times a second.”

  Josh asked, “Why do you think they’re just pranks?”

  Armani
said, “Because they just changed the colors on our splash screen.” With an artificial-sounding laugh, he added, “They’re probably just trying to get a job with us.” After a sip of his Coke, he asked, “Why the interest?”

  Tim said, “What I’m about to tell you is classified. If you mention it to anyone, you could face criminal charges.”

  Josh could see the conflict on Armani’s face, but curiosity won. “Yes?”

  “Someone hacked into the CIA using a cell phone. It turned itself on once it was inside a classified area using a backdoor in your app.”

  Armani narrowed his eyes and repeated, “It turned itself on?”

  Tim and Josh nodded.

  Too quickly, Armani said, “Our app can’t activate a phone that’s been turned off.”

  Josh didn’t have to be an interrogator to notice his nervousness.

  Tim pressed on. “Who, besides yourself, might have the ability to write a program that could take over the iMagine app?”

  Armani frowned and then shook his head as if debating something. Finally, he said, “There aren’t many who understand the subtleties of this type of, uh, software-hardware interface. Aside from my chief programmer, Stan Boyd, who has extensive stock options and would never do anything to risk the company, there is one other individual I’m aware of.” He paused. “His name is Hayden Bentley.” He looked at Tim to see if there was any recognition.

  Tim simply said, “Go on.”

  “Bentley and I worked together at a small software firm about 10 years ago. He’s brilliant, but got involved in some activist stuff and kind of went underground.”

  Tim repeated back, “Underground?”

  “Yeah, I think he’s some sort of an environmental extremist. It’s really just rumors, but he might have been behind some incidents.”

  Tim just looked at him.

  Armani shrugged. “He might have been involved with the hacker group called Spector.”

  Josh couldn’t help but ask, “Like James Bond’s arch nemesis?”

  With a nervous laugh, Armani said, “Uh, I don’t think they spell it that way.”

  Josh smiled. “Yeah, they wouldn’t want to get sued.”