Chapter 50: Feces Approaching the Oscillating Device

The Bolivar family returned to their restaurant/bar and regular lives. It was evident their lives could go back to normal since, after a few weeks, there were no more signs of being spied upon by the government. Many of the members of the CID-SI became regular customers soon after the restaurant reopened, making it the CID-SI’s unofficial eatery. About a month later, they reopened the bar at night, and the CID-SI adopted the quiet bar, too. The Bolivars returned from their unscheduled vacation and naturally gouged the government on the bills for repairs.

George Johnson and the two scientists also returned to work after their vacations had ended. George, on his first morning back, was brought to the director of the secret lab’s office for an update on what happened while he was gone. George should have received some acting award for his performance during the meeting. “You think my cousin is the same guy we spent months hauling from here to the secret location? Don’t you think I would have said something if I even had the faintest hint of a suspicion that that huge tub of lard was related to me?” George stood up, and several of the people in the meeting were trying to get him under control to answer their questions.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson. That is what we are saying. The man you claim as your cousin showed up in the dead of night jumping over your backyard fence, and you did not even make a move to call local authorities on a break-in attempt,” Col. Price announced to the rest of the room.

“I didn’t call the cops because I had a straight line of sight from my dining room to my backyard. I saw Tim hop the fence and, when I realized who it was, I unlocked my back door and welcomed him like family,” George answered.

“If he is your cousin, why didn’t he just come to the front door like civilized people would?” Col. Price asked, acting like he had caught George in a lie of some kind.

“I said he was my cousin. I never said he was civilized.” The room broke into a spattering of chuckles, chortles, and cackles, but they quickly got control of themselves once again.

“Where is your cousin now, Mr. Johnson?”

“I’m not too sure. Tim either got up and cooked himself some breakfast, or he went out to get something to eat. I’d put my money on going out. Look, my cousin has a way of keeping in touch with anyone in the family. He would usually show up on a doorstep of someone in the family and sleep there for a couple of weeks but, since I was going on vacation in about a week after he showed, he invited himself to come along. We had a great time. We usually did when Tim showed up to town. It was not anything you would rush to tell your mother about.

“My cousin can do nothing right in his life but, for some fuckin’ reason, he always falls ass-backward into money, and that lets him live his gypsy lifestyle of never staying anywhere for very long. He’s been that way since he finished high school. Every once in a while, he shows up to someone in the family. They give him a sofa for a while, and he disappears. Eventually, he shows up somewhere else and lives his life.”

After another hour of questions from several different investigators, George was allowed to report to work in his office. The first thing he did was open his personal safe and remove the electronic bug-finder he used religiously every week in his office. This time, George found four different listening devices hidden throughout his office, including one hidden behind the plate for the electrical outlets right behind the door. He never had anything plugged into that outlet.

He sat down at his computer, logged into the system, and ran a virus scan using different products he also kept in his safe. They revealed a keyboard logger virus on his hard drive. It was much newer than any he had seen before. He removed it and went to work as usual.

The two scientists went through the same thing in their offices. Uncle Justin had supplied the two Mikes with the latest in virus scanning software. George confirmed he was already using the version Uncle Justin could provide. They ran it through all the computers they touched.

The distinctive ringtone of the burner phone George kept in the house immediately got his attention as soon as he walked into the house from his first day back at the laboratory. “Hey, George! How was the first day back?”

“Tim, what the hell are you doing calling me? Someone might be listening!”

“Well, then put your fat ass in your igloo and set up the computer as Uncle Justin said. Then we can all talk. You’re the last one homey. They sent the scientists home early,” Tim jokingly explained.

“Now that I did not know. Alright, give me a couple of minutes. I had just closed the door after coming in when the phone rang.”

“Alright, two minutes. I think I can keep those fools calm for two minutes.”

George went into his bedroom, removed his work clothes, and jumped into his home-casual basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He then went into the kitchen and checked the chili he left simmering all day in the crockpot. It was ready, so he filled up a bowl and grabbed a sleeve of crackers from a half-empty box.

Then he made his way into the Faraday Cage in the garage where he noticed the simple security he had set up on the doors and the lone garage window was still in place. The small piece of string he had placed in between the door and its frame was still in place on every door and the window.

The computer in his Faraday Cage was a computer George had built himself with parts from many different dealers. Signing up onto the internet through high-security measures was not a simple process, and George liked it better that way. Soon the smiling faces of the men with whom he had spent the last couple of weeks were looking back at him. Uncle Justin had his head down, reading some paperwork.

“Okay, I’m up. Now, what is this about you guys being sent home early?”

Dr. Jensen looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from talking, so George asked him for an update first. “Oh, nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Since our project is still officially on hold, we are both just helping others rather than working on our project. I do have something I can say about this, though. I was waiting until we were all here before saying anything. I can’t completely confirm it, but I think one of the other groups in the lab is working on the nanites. I told you that I was offered nanite research before taking the spot in the time travel study.

“Anyways, the nanite research they had me working on today was so rudimentary; it felt like they had just started researching the subject a few weeks ago. Some of this stuff they are setting up was done back in my days in college. Mind you, we were ahead of the game back then, but it seems to me they are now seriously working on it. I think Tim’s story might have finally broken through someone’s brain, and they decided to see if it was possible, so we need to keep an eye on what they are doing, just in case.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right, Mikey. Keep an eye on them but don’t worry about reporting every little thing they do. Just bring us up to date when major jumps are coming. Who knows what readings they got from my return in the embarkation room. The computer probably got a bunch of information from the time travel return, and they might finally be thinking I was telling the truth,” Tim said over the conference software.

Dr. Thompson gave an update on his return to work, and everyone agreed to weekly update meetings. George volunteered to update the Bolivar family on what they might need to know.

“Welcome back to the Fort Sam Houston, Dr. Lipscomb,” Colonel Kevin Price said to the returning supervisor from DARPA outside the airport terminal. “Welcome back to Texas. Was the flight, okay?”

“Yes, Colonel. Everything was fine. Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause you any trouble. I’m here to take some of this shit off your plate and get you guys doing what you do best again. Now please, take me to my new office in your headquarters.” The doctor stepped around the Colonel and, before the driver could open the car door, he got himself into the back seat. Dr. Lipscomb’s pleasant attitude set the Colonel on his toes initially. Col. Price said a quick prayer to himself and exhaled to the sky then followed the doctor into the backseat, waving the driver to not worry about the door but to get them all on the road.

“I was going over your report from the raid on the restaurant. It surprised the fuck out of me as well when there was nothing there. I thought your men had done a great job thinking outside the box and coming up with that lead,” Dr. Lipscomb offered.

“Now, for the official news. I am to tell you that hunting down this man is now my job.” Col. Price was about to start fighting back on the orders when Dr. Lipscomb quickly calmed the man down with a hand raised before he could get his dander up.

“No colonel, it is not a bad thing. I can’t confirm it, but I have heard the special ops boys in Langley are upset that several operations on their planning boards were all halted when you and your men had to track down the prisoner. It was a slowly-building feeling of some scary mothers not having their best available because the best were off doing something else – not what they were meant to be doing.”

Col. Price visibly calmed down and, while watching Dr. Lipscomb, he chose to believe what the man was saying. He had not worked with him very often, but the few times they had was an enjoyable experience having one of the government spooks speak plainly and without hiding anything – either that or he was very good at lying.

“The Pentagon wants their number one team back at work,” Dr. Lipscomb said and leaned toward the Colonel and put his hand on his leg before speaking. “A few ops got screwed up and were not completed as requested.”

“Are you talking about that village in Kashmir about a month ago?” Col. Price asked. Dr. Lipscomb put his finger on his nose and pointed back at him. “So, do you know what mission are they reassigning to us?”

“No idea, Colonel, no idea. That’s a little bit out of my arena at DARPA. You’ll get your newest assignment pretty soon, though.” Dr. Lipscomb readjusted himself into the comfortable leather seat as they made their way through traffic and back to the CID-SI headquarters in Ft. Sam Houston.

“So, you are to go back to training your troops to be ready for the immediate future. I am here to take over the investigation. Your men are to stand down from the day-to-day investigation and, if I can track him down, then, if your men are here and available, I’ll use them under your command to recapture Mr. Murphy. Understood?”

The lost opportunity to keep searching for the escapee had hit Col. Price hard in his pride but, in his deepest of hearts, he had some idea a reassignment was probably coming. He nodded.

“Colonel, this is not. I repeat, not a negative on you or any of your team’s records. Your men should be congratulated on the great job each did of pivoting from interrogating the prisoner to tracking him down after he escaped. Many in the command wanted to let you and your men continue tracking down the prisoner, mainly because of the work you and your men have already done. The new evidence of the possible weight loss and his having something to do with the shootout by the two drug gangs in that hotel opened a few eyes. Your immediate orders are to begin re-training the men to get ready for the types of operations you excel ‘cause, I guess, the backlog of stuff they need you to do is getting a little long. I think they are gonna keep you guys busy for a while.

“You’ll likely get the new directives next week. Your men have done a great job, and I might need to use some of your men as I continue the search. Would that be alright with you?”

“Not a problem, Dr. Lipscomb. If you need anything, ask, and it will be yours. I’ll put you up in the other office in HQ that we aren’t using.”

“Well, you gotta get your boys ready for the field again. Hopefully, you won’t have to wait too long for the new assignment. I have seen several different possible assignments right up your alley. We gotta get the best back out there doing what you do.”

“Thank you, sir.”

A few minutes later, the blacked-out Suburban pulled into the parking lot of the CID-SI headquarters. The doctor again opened his door before the driver could do it for him. “Whoops, sorry corporal. I don’t worry about stuff like that, but please bring my things up to my office as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll park and get your bags up to you.” The doctor just nodded with a big smile on his face. The driver closed the door after the Colonel exited the other side of the vehicle.

“Right upstairs and to the left is your office, Doctor.” Col. Price said it loud enough for the men seated at their stations who were going over evidence from the escape and the subsequent investigation. The men left their stations. The doctor stood before a large dry erase board at the front of the building. He waited for everyone to make their way to the room.

“Men, I told the Colonel here that your new assignment should be coming in a few days – as soon as command figures out which op needs your expertise. Until you receive your new orders, you will rev up your training to the levels you are all used to normally, here at this facility.”

“However, I’ll need to borrow three or four of you to help me as I continue trying to find Tim Murphy. I think command has finally pulled their thumbs out of their asses and realized the error of having the best quick-reaction squad in the world sitting around twiddling their thumbs as they play Columbo, trying to track down a fat fuck they didn’t lose. That ain’t what you guys do, and they finally figured it out, but you guys damn near pulled it off. Great work, everybody, but now you get to get your asses back into the shit – right where you guys do your best work!”

Col. Price and Sgt. Thomas were just dumbfounded and looking at each other with their mouths opened, but the Colonel caught himself and addressed his soldiers, “Men, go ahead and have some fun out on the town this weekend because Monday your asses are mine!” Sgt. Thomas started the rousing cheers, and the other members of the CID-SI quickly joined the boisterous display. The men were getting tired of playing cops and robbers. They were getting soft. That did not sit well with the sergeant, and the thought of getting back to their usual work was appealing.

Monday morning, the men reported into the CID-SI headquarters. Most were there early and initially readied themselves with their office work and checking emails and regular mail for anything that needed their immediate attention. The recorded re-creations of the escape were blaring from behind the closed door of the formerly empty office. Each soldier knew the doctor from DARPA had taken it over just before the weekend, but no one had returned to the office since the meeting with Dr. Lipscomb Friday afternoon.

A grandfather clock, the last vestige from the building’s previous occupants, rang its chime to announce the top of every hour and the recordings stopped. The door opened, and the average and easily-forgettable man marched to the dry erase board at the front of the room and called for everyone’s attention. It was easy to see the man was still in the same clothes he wore when he arrived.

“As Col. Price and myself mentioned Friday afternoon, or ... well, I guess it was closer to evening ... I will need the assistance of a few of your squad for the next few days until the squad gets their next orders.” Dr. Lipscomb raised a computer tablet and read from the screen. “I need a Cpl. Smith, comma Edward. Also, I need a Cpl. Johnson, comma Thomas, and finally I need Cpl. Buck, comma Eddie. You three come into the office, and we can get to work. The rest of you, I turn you back over to your commanding officer, Col. Price.” He raised his hand and motioned, giving the floor to the colonel, who was standing in the back of the room, having just come out of the office when Dr. Lipscomb started talking.

Dr. Lipscomb then turned and went right back into his office., but he did not close the door. The Colonel addressed his men, “You three Dr. Lipscomb called for are temporarily assigned to him and are going to continue helping him in the search for the escaped prisoner. When we find out our next assignment, we will see if you three will come with us or if you are going to stay with the good doctor.”

The three reassigned soldiers quickly followed the doctor into his office. Three chairs were waiting and, when they all came in, the doctor asked them to take a seat as he pulled up the same computer tablet and began swiping through to the different files he wanted to access. He looked up as the third man came into the office and asked him to close the door behind them.

“Men. I could have asked any of those guys out there to help in finding the escaped prisoner but, for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been following up on the investigation thus far, and it shows you three were the only ones coming up with any answers.

“So I want to continue using you three, specifically, while we chase down this man. I’ll let you know right now – if your unit does get called for an assignment, I will be asking Col. Price if he could transfer you here, full time, to stay with me until we finish this task,” Dr. Lipscomb said, then paused as he let his statement reach their understanding.

“Secondly, we will not be staying here. I’m not military, and this hunt is not to be done by the book as it has been so far, so we will not be dressing like normal military, either,” he said with a grin on his face. “Now, I have taken a little personal initiative and got us a new place to work. It is one where we won’t have the bureaucracy of the U.S. military breathing down our backs.” Dr. Lipscomb paused for a moment to judge the reaction from his three recruits. The three soldiers were experts at keeping their emotions under wraps whenever necessary, though.

“So think of yourselves as temporarily reassigned to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. We are, of course, interested in how the big guy got past our security and into the lab without setting off any alarms. I’m sure I’m not telling stories out of school here, am I, but what we are truly interested in are that fat guy’s unusual physical quirks,” he noticed the stutterer, Cpl. Smith, looking to his friend, Cpl. Johnson, who very subtlety shook his head no. They both went back to paying full attention to the briefing.

“Cpl. Smith, I know about your stuttering problem and, like Col. Price, I don’t think it will be a problem, either. It’s your mind and your abilities I’m after. Not put too subtle of a hint on it, son, you are one big motherfucker and an imposing character as well,” Dr. Lipscomb admitted.

“Cpl. Johnson, you have been working with Cpl. Smith, side-by-side, for years. Again, I’ll trust Col. Price and Sgt. Thomas and keep you two together as one of the top teams in the military. Not forgetting you, Cpl. Buck – your idea to recreate the escape was something that should have been done probably the next day while everything was fresh in people’s minds.

“The Colonel was offered help immediately after the escape, but his and your team’s reputations forced the naysayers down and allowed you guys to figure out what and how to track down an escaped prisoner. The fact Col. Price didn’t take the offered help caused him problems he didn’t need. He waited so long to ask for help that, when he finally did, the help was long gone, which was a little disconcerting, but your performance during the re-creation, Cpl. Buck, got your team the next lead, and a great one it was!”

The three men were beginning to relax after the positive feedback on their contributions and Dr. Lipscomb’s relaxed manner.

He leaned back in his chair and looked over the three soldiers before him. “So after we check out the new offices, our first step after that will be to run through the escape once again. I’m more interested in what happened after he left the base than the fight with the guards and the stolen car bit. We got plenty of good video for all of that. I wanna see the Walmart and hotel where you guys think he stayed. I’d also like to talk with the lead investigators on the hotel murders; pick their brains, so to speak.”

“Next, We are gonna do all of this with a little style. We are getting out of here and heading to our HQ a little later today. Since our group is under the purview of DARPA, we don’t have to go through military red tape to get anything. We got Uncle Sam’s credit card and no restrictions on how to use it.” His grin grew, and his face seemed to disappear behind it. “What do you fellas think of Cadillacs?”

“What kind of bug is it? Is it poisonous or something?”

Dr. Jensen almost blew a gasket when he was talking to his Uncle over the video conference software they all now used. “It’s not an insect, Uncle Justin!”

“I’m just fuckin’ with you. Seriously, is there any label on it like some numbered piece for when repairs are needed?”

“Hang on.” Dr, Jensen emptied the glass of water that contained the electronic gizmo that he found behind the faceplate of an electrical socket in the kitchen of his apartment. He shook the excess water off the device and examined it much closer.

Dr. Jensen was slicing up vegetables for a salad for lunch when he first noticed the paint scraped off the screw, attaching the faceplate to the wall. He had not unscrewed that electrical outlet faceplate since the last time the kitchen backsplash was painted. He could see the paint was scratched off as if someone had used a screwdriver to remove the plate.