Hidden Demon, page 7
part #1 of Altered Demons Series
Pow!
The helmet eyeshade masked the bright flash. As the machine whir slowed, they removed their head coverings and the blinking red lights stopped. Amelia reached into the box and removed the red clamshell. She opened the device and powered it up.
"See? Perfectly fine. Wait, that's odd."
"What?"
"There was a massive exception logged in DC today. It was unpredicted."
"I thought prediction was our job?"
"We have ninety-eight percent coverage, but this was an anomaly. A rogue element the system has never seen."
"Can we see it now?"
"Sure, let me pull it up on the clamshell."
She tapped buttons that launched a video. As it played, a shadow moved across a darkened screen. A guttural growl roared.
"What the hell is that sir?"
Butler stroked his chin.
"Has anyone else seen this?"
"Let me check," she said, tapping soft keys on the device. "No sir, logs show by the time the system had evaluated the threat, it was over. It kicked it into manual mode. Those require human intervention."
"Why would it do that?"
"The system treats novel threats differently. This was not a group of people attacking a government building. Or terrorists hijacking a convoy. We know how to respond to those. This had never been seen."
"So, no response team was sent?"
"No."
"Delete the record."
"But sir, I could lose my job if I do."
"You work for me now," he said, placing his palm on the back of her neck and squeezing. "You're safe if you do what I say."
Chapter 12
T
he well-lit basement offices had been off-limits the last time Ko and Dee visited the Freeman Foundation. Reggie had met them again, but instead of escorting them to the armory, he pointed them to a tramway that had transported them to an underground cylindrical meeting room of concrete.
They sat in gray mesh office chairs that bolstered them against a reflective white conference table. Steam rose from petite porcelain coffee cups in front of them. Cream, sugar, and other sweeteners filled a silver coffee service that neither used. Gadgets scattered on tables around the room's edges. Curved screens dominated the walls. Dee sipped coffee as she glanced at her mobile device.
"I've got no signal, you?"
Ko checked his phone and shook his head.
Dee snapped her fingers twice.
"No echo either. Anechoic concrete? And that low level buzzing sound? Faraday cage, maybe?"
"A tempest room?" Ko said.
The door opened and a slight woman in a white lab coat stepped through. Her frizzy vermillion hair obscured her red-rimmed spectacles. Dee remembered her as the data scientist who sat beside the quantum computer down the hall. Reggie had hurried them past it on the first visit.
"You must be Dr. Samantha Rand," Dee said, extending a hand as she and Ko stood.
The newcomer averted her eyes, avoiding the handshake as she scurried past and mumbling with a percussive staccato.
"Hi. No. Not a doctor. Just Sam."
The agent duo stood awkwardly as Sam landed in her seat, placing a cavernous red leather handbag on the table. She removed an inhaler, an energy drink bottle, and a key ring with a cartoon dinosaur. On the hunt for an elusive item, she squinted into the dark abyss as she rummaged through the sack.
Dee and Ko turned to President Freeman as he entered the room.
"Ah, Mr. President, thank you for making time," Dee said.
"Dee. Ko. I see you've met Sam."
He shook their hands.
Oblivious to the situation, Sam chewed a pencil eraser as she scanned the interior of her purse.
Freeman leaned in close to Ko and Dee.
"Don't let the wrapper fool you."
They all looked over to the scientist as she tilted her head back, squeezing out two carefully measured drops in each eye.
Freeman cleared his throat.
"Sam? Excuse me, Sam, can we get the show going for our guests?"
Sam blinked the eyedrops out, drying her eyes with a tissue.
"Yes, right James."
The agents gave each other side-eye as Dee mouthed 'James' silently.
"She knew my wife and I before," Freeman said in hushed tones. "It's, uh, a long story... so long I don't know where to begin."
Sam started talking a mile a minute, with no introduction.
"Our charter says we monitor climate change to support policies promoting green energy—nuclear, wind, water, sun."
Ko and Dee sipped their coffee as they reclined back, listening to her presentation.
"Part of that mission includes monitoring animal migration patterns and how they are impacted by a variety of variables. These include temperature, deforestation, sea-level, precipitation patterns, vegetation community disparity, and more. The data tells us these have fluctuated wildly in the prior decade and much more over the last fifty years. This means species may travel further or migrate to higher elevations than previously observed."
On a nearby digital screen, a map of the USA. The colors transitioned from green to red in lockstep as the display increased year after year. Sam continued.
"Our global predictive AI uses historical inputs to forecast where animal populations will migrate and where there might be conflict."
"Conflict?" Ko said.
"Yes, with humans. The more land and resources we take, the less animals have. For example, shorter winters in Europe triggered by global warming meant migratory birds had less time to recover. Over fifty percent of species based in the Netherlands went extinct between 2020 and 2040. Macaque monkeys in India lost habitat earlier this century, leading to aggression against tourists and locals. The country used that to justify the monkey hunts that have become so popular for the wealthy traveler. Baboons raiding houses for sustenance in South Africa happened as early as the 2010s, leading to death on both sides. Prolonged drought in 2030s Australia pushed dingo dogs into a tiny oasis town leading to the Alice Springs Slaughter. These scenarios repeat around the world with rising frequency. More serious conflicts are inevitable. People fear sharks and snakes, but statistically, death by poodle is more likely."
"I'm not seeing a connection, Sam," Dee said, reaching for the empty coffee cup. "Are you saying this was a wild animal attack? I appreciate the climate demise 101, but Ortiz said you all had predicted her attack. President Freeman promised us answers. "
Sam twisted her lip.
"Isn't the answer obvious? Most animal encounters, attacks if you will, are predictable based on our models. But only with historical data. We have fed our quantum computer fifty years of hospital and clinic ICD codification—the diagnostic codes used in medical facilities. It ingests even more historical data as it comes online."
Sam pulled a thick tome from her purse and slid it over to Dee. The cover read ICD 11.
"Did you know there are over twenty codes to describe parrot and macaw attacks?"
"So, the CDC is with you on this?" Dee said.
"We use their data feeds. But they only aggregate and disseminate raw data, they don't predict like us. We correlated their data with our own datasets including GPS trackers, temperature variance, and animal migration. Look here."
Sam displayed a digital map of Virginia on the screen and zoomed in to the town of Castleton.
"See that large red circle? It represents frequency or severity of anomalies. Attacks leading to injuries or deaths. When such incidents happen—something the data did not predict—it's flagged by our system for review. This one was near the Shenandoah Forest in the town of Castleton. Check this out."
Sam started a web browser and googled for 'Demon Shenandoah Valley' returning hundreds of results for 'The Demon Hoax.'
"The legend has been around for a while in that area. Locals call it the demon, the forest demon, Shenandoah Bigfoot, whatever. An equal number of people call it a hoax. Cryptozoologists have made videos, good fakes from what we can tell. The state and federal investigative bodies have checked it out, but they have found nothing. Nothing we know about anyway."
"I don't get it, what am I seeing?" Dee said.
Sam turned to the President.
"Show them the rest," Freeman said, arms crossed.
"So, you saw Castleton's red circle on the map," she said as she typed. "Here's the attack on Ortiz in DC."
She pointed to a red circle on the map of the USA in DC. Zooming out. She swiped to the other side of the world and pointed to another circle.
"And this is the one in Tokyo. The eagle flock that protected the sniper from the Overwatch drones."
"Eagle flock?" Dee muttered.
They sat stunned until Freeman broke the silence.
"So, Sam and team didn't exactly predict the attack on all these politicians. In retrospect, they shouldn't have happened."
"Politicians?" Ko said.
Freeman grunted.
"Yes, all had political aspirations, some more grand than others. In this critical election season, the attack on Ortiz was a guess. It turned out worse than we feared."
"What about the Lieutenant Governor, Murray Whitlaw? He has the most to gain," Dee said.
"We've been watching him. Whitlaw is a self-serving, hypocritical stain on our country, but other than that he's clean."
"The Castleton politicians. Did they survive?" Ko said.
"No," Sam interjected. "Angela Elliott did not survive. Sadly." She loaded the profile onto the screen. "Commercial real estate agent. Married, no kids, maybe a dog. She had an exploratory committee and was considering a run for the Virginia House."
"Ortiz and I were lucky," Freeman said, leaning forward. "We had you two."
"Motivation for the attack on Mrs. Elliott?" Ko said.
"Unknown," Freeman said. "But Castleton is ground zero for something big. I needed to know you two were blameless before sharing our methods."
Dee mulled over her empty coffee cup.
"Sam, what are the chances the average beach swimmer gets bit by a shark on two separate days?"
"You're talking about tiny probabilities, not even worth mentioning. Less than one in a billion."
"Now what if it's the same shark?"
The scientist paused, scrunching her brow behind wiry hair, contemplating the odds in silence. She shrugged.
"Only humans bite the apple twice," Dee said.
Freeman turned to Sam.
"You said Ortiz might get attacked again?"
"Yes, all three attacks must be connected. But we can't predict them with high certainty because of the low frequency. We can only ascertain the anomaly in retrospect. That's why they have you bunkered up, sir."
"Don't remind me, Sam."
"We're essentially blind," Sam said, "and failure might encourage escalation for a committed attacker. Though they would be crazy to strike the president again."
"Not everyone is so protected, Sam," Freeman said, turning toward Dee and Ko.
"So now you see why you're here. I need people outside the system. People I trust. Those people are here in this room."
"Your wife?" Ko said.
"Stacy?" He jeered. "No sense in worrying her further. I need you on the ground, starting in Castleton. Find whatever this thing is before it attacks again."
"Thank you for the confidence, sir, we'll track it down," Dee said, as they all stood.
Freeman pulled her aside.
"Remember our deal. This is about protecting Ortiz. I admire her, but she is stubborn and refuses to hide. We tripled her protection, even brought in some of your old counter assault team members. But I can neither trust everyone near her, nor guarantee her safety from this thing. Which means you're on the clock. I don't want another debacle like Tokyo."
"Understood. We will always have Tokyo, sir."
Chapter 13
E
vergreens and old farms whizzed by the windows of the SUV as Dee drove the last stretch of Highway 642 to Castleton. Ko leaned against the door as he finished a bag of peanuts. The traffic-laden trip out of DC had exhausted them and their fuel on what should have been a ninety-minute journey. Though paved roads greeted them, the yellow lines had long since faded. Fruit stands and metal sculptures competed for the attention of travelers. Not that they had seen another car for miles. She faded in and out as the drone of the road compelled her to speak.
"I wish autonomous driving mode worked out here. What was the population of this place again?"
"Precisely one thousand eight hundred and eighty-one."
Towns with exact populations bugged her. It suggested they watched births and deaths primarily to update the counts on the roadside visitor welcome sign. She had left her tiny community for a similar reason. Living transparently in such a place could get you hated—or worse—and though the shine of a traditional college education had faded, government jobs required a degree. Back then she had been gullible enough to think such a path would make her contributions matter.
"Shouldn't take forever to get the lay of the land in Castleton. Then we can head to central Rappahannock and surprise the sheriff. See what happens," Dee said.
"The main city in Rappahannock is called Washington, but it is not Washington, DC or Washington, the state. Confusing," Ko said.
"I remember my first trip to Japan. Yokohama was a city, a port, and more. Took me a while to adjust. When I visited Atlanta for spring break, there were like fifteen Peachtree streets."
"Fifteen?"
"Yep, and Chicago, for my senior trip, a ton of Butterfield roads, named after an old dairy."
They came to a stop at the intersection of two highways. Ko showed Dee his empty peanut bag and pointed to a two-story red brick building donning a covered porch and metal signage.
"Looks like a gas station and an old general store."
Dee glanced at the low fuel gauge.
"Got no option, I guess," she added half-heartedly.
Seeing no cars along the dusty road, she turned toward the shop where a selection of pumps awaited the SUV.
"Is it even open?" She said, squinting as she slowed and parked on a patch of concrete next to pump number one. Exiting the vehicle, she stretched her arms high. Ko tossed the empty bag into the trash.
"I unlocked the fuel door. Can you start the pump?" Dee said.
Ko stared at the dispenser as he stroked his chin. The frayed black hose led to the nozzle hanging by a shiny lever.
"I don't know how to use this kind."
Dee walked around the vehicle.
"Sorry man, I forgot you all have automated pumps in Japan. I'll take care of it."
Ko nodded and strode into the store.
Dee started the fuel flowing and locked the dispenser in place. A flock of starlings circled overhead as she set out to the shop entrance. An old Ford truck parked at the side of the building donned a confederate flag in the rear window and NASCAR stickers on the bumper. Creaky wooden stairs led to a porch overflowing with antiques for sale. A little brass bell rang as she entered. The old boom box on the counter behind the magazines blasted classic country music.
From a tiny office, a rotund, white-bearded man appeared sporting faded blue overalls. He stood with hands folded in front of him on the counter.
As Dee went to the rear of the store, she could see him eyeballing her in a nearby fisheye mirror. She smirked, grabbing a soda and a candy bar. As she walked toward checkout, she scanned for Ko, to no avail.
"Only this and the gas," she said.
"Fancy car you got there. Just passin' through?" he said, tallying the item cost on an old iPad.
"You might say that. I'm chasing down this demon thing I've heard so much about."
She studied him. His eyes lit up as he chuckled.
"You won't find no demon, but y'all seeking it out like a blind bloodhound sure is good for business. Me and Denny get tickled 'bout it."
Ko walked up and tossed a bag of peanuts on the counter. The attendant glared at him.
"You two together?"
Dee nodded as he canceled the transaction. Starting over, he tapped the iPad screen as he sucked his teeth.
"Letting in all kinds of big gooks," he said under his breath. "That'll be $38.50," he bellowed, as if his other words had gone unheard.
Dee locked eyes with him, her face poorly masking her fury. His face softened with recognition as his eyes shifted to Ko, then back to her. His eye twitched before he clicked his tongue.
"Aw hell, I don't mean nothin' by that, just something momma used to say."
"I see. An excuse for the abuse," she said, the attendant furrowing his brow as she continued. "Dad used to say that good insults are clear as crystal. Now your momma taught you gook was right. But this one's from Japan... so Jap is best."
"Uh, what?"
"Say it. I mean, look at him, he wants you to say it."
Ko stared at the man glancing his way and stuttering.
"I didn't. I mean. What? Okay. No."
"You munching on cousin dick? Spit it out!" Dee chastised him as she slid her fake badge and two twenties toward him.
"Come on, say it. 'Letting in all kinds of big Japs now.' "
The attendant checked the badge. His eyes grew as he exchanged a prolonged stare with Dee until he cracked.
"Letting in all kinds of big Japs now?"
Ko instantly slammed the counter, getting close to him.
"They do. I'm a very big deal," he said, grinning ear to ear.
Dee reached over and turned the music down as the man shivered. He turned his attention back to her as she spoke.
"You mentioned your friend. Denny? Who is that exactly?"
"Game warden. Lives on the hill farm, up Castleton way."
"What do you know about it?"
"The farm?"
"The demon."
"No more than Google will tell ya. Momma used to scare us with stories. Said the demon would take us to the woods if we weren't good and listened and did our homework and such. Boogie man stuff like that."
