Chapter 50

I wish I could say that the drama for Spring break is over, but it isn’t. The following morning, after we complete our cycle training. Paul is waiting for me in the parking lot. I stop to talk with him as the rest of the team passes us, heading to the showers.

I ask, “Do I have time for a shower first or is this that important.”

“Shower up. There is no need to stink up the vehicle.”

We still drive around in a vehicle when it is something of extreme secrecy. The building containing the small boat shop and cycle manufacturing has been completed and is in use, but our R&D building and office complex aren’t finished yet. We are still working out of the double-wide trailers, and they aren’t very secure.

“I’ll meet you out here in 10.”

After I shower, I head straight for the SUV. I open the door and, there is a package sitting on the seat. Picking it up, I notice there is no address or postage. Paul says, “Get in. We need to head to the police station.”

“I take it that is from the Unabomber?”

“Yes, and I already scanned it for a bomb and whatnot.”

“Were we able to track him?”

“Yes. Our cover was almost blown, but the UAV got there in time, and our guys split off. It doesn’t appear that he knows he is being followed.”

“I assume that means we found a place to launch the UAVs and are keeping him under surveillance.”

“There is a decrepit farm just south of town. The people that own it are too old to continue farming. The area has mostly larger or corporate farms now. They let us use the barn to hide our equipment, and the yard is plenty big enough for our purposes.”

“How long have we been tracking him?”

“It’s been two days.”

“As far as the police or FBI are concerned, we don’t have the drones. We tried to track him, but our guy saw that he was going to be spotted and didn’t want to spook the Unabomber, so he backed off and lost him.”

“Got it.”

“Like I said last time, I want you to do most of the talking. I don’t want to let my temper wreck this.”

“Yes, Boss. I knew you would want a copy, so we made one. Don’t worry. We left no fingerprints or DNA. We can let them have the package.”

“Pretend we didn’t and get them to copy it for us. The less the police and FBI know, the better. Do we have pictures of him dropping the package off?”

“Yes, we kept two people watching the park at all times. We have a room across the park. When he got there, one of our team took pictures, and the other got ready to follow him. It wasn’t an easy task. There is too much open field.”

“I assume you called ahead, and they are expecting us.”

It is too late to ask that anyway as we are pulling into the civilian parking lot to the police station.

“Seeing the entourage in the visitor’s entrance should give that away.”

I don’t even get out of the vehicle, and I am already disappointed. Through the glass doors, I see Insp Martin and his three goons. Getting out of the SUV, the only thing I take with me is the package from the Unabomber.

This time, I am formally introduced to them, but I don’t bother to remember their names. Why fill your head with crap about people you hate? We follow them into a conference room, and before we even sit, Paul says, “No sense starting. Our lawyers haven’t arrived.”

Martin suggests, “We can at least look at the package.”

Paul looks him in the eye, and in a menacing voice, says, “I said we will wait for the lawyers and do this properly. If you want to do something, get your FBI contact on the line.”

Tall and dumb opens his mouth to prove how stupid he is. “We don’t need the FBI.”

I shake my head in disgust, saying, “This is an FBI case in FBI jurisdiction, isn’t it?”

Martin puts the phone on the conference table and starts dialling. I don’t catch what he says because short and stocky picks this time to talk, “What is it this time. I’m sure it can’t be much. If it were anything good, you wouldn’t come to us...” He runs his mouth, not saying anything of use. I’m sure it was to hide what his boss is saying on the phone.

When Martin is done talking on the phone, he sticks it on speaker, saying, “Gentlemen, this is Special Agent Thompson.”

Paul doesn’t know what to say. He just glares at Martin. Instead, I open my mouth, “Thompson, no offence to you, but this rates higher than the lowest guy on the totem pole. James Fitzgerald and your Deputy Assistant Director should be taking this phone call.”

The FBI likes to feel important, so they came up with intimidating names for their ranks. Special Agent is the lowest rank on the totem pole, but people don’t know that, so when an agent introduces himself as a special agent, he is misleading them into thinking he is somebody.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t just go and get the Deputy Assistant Director unless it is of the utmost importance.”

There is a knock on the door, and our team of lawyers comes in. Paul addresses them, “You remember the inspector and his cronies from last time. We are also on speakerphone with some lackey from the FBI. The package on the table is the recent package the Unabomber sent us.”

Thompson almost panics as he says, “You got a package from the Unabomber? You didn’t open it, did you? How do you know it was from him.”

Paul answers, “Relax, we scanned the package, and it is safe. We know it is from the Unabomber because we are in frequent contact with him...”

Surprised, Thompson interrupts, “Ohhh, you’re that Mr. Brown...”

I don’t hear the rest of what he says as I leave the conference room. I’m not pleased and storm over to Insp Roch’s office. I knock on his door and wait for him to answer. When he does, I take a breath before entering his office.

I close the door behind me, saying, “Good morning.” Then I hold out my hand in greeting.

He shakes my hand then says, “Good morning, Trent. What can I do for you this morning.”

“You need to phone your boss. Insp Martin keeps fucking with us, and if he remains in charge of the RCMP portion of the investigation, we will have no choice but to cut you out. We asked for the Unabomber task force to be included in our meetings. At first, his man refused. When Paul spoke up, Martin called the FBI then had a Special Agent on the line. You and I both know, the only way to be a lower rank than a special agent is to be in Quantico. If I wanted somebody that was only capable of getting me coffee, I wouldn’t ask for him to be on the other end of the line on a conference call.”

“I can see that you are upset. Give me a few minutes to straighten this out. The fact that you have a lawsuit out against him is more than enough reason for him not to be allowed to deal with you. That may be why he isn’t acting rationally.”

“Thank you. I’m still needed in the other room, so I better get back there.”

A minute later, I enter the conference room, and everybody is sitting in silence. As the door closes, Martin says, “Now that the spoiled brat is here, we can begin.”

I keep my mouth shut and allow Paul to speak as I said I would.

“Trent, on the line, we have several people from the FBI, I don’t know everybody but as you asked there is a Deputy Assistant Director and Special Agent Fitzgerald ... Now on to business. The Unabomber sent us another package. This one is substantially larger than his past letters. We scanned it, and it is safe.”

Insp Martin buts in, saying, “To be safe, we should get the bomb squad in here and look it over anyway.”

It is difficult for Paul and me not to laugh. Paul says, “The nearest RCMP bomb squad is in Vancouver. It will take 4 hours to get here. Not to mention they are the least experienced bomb squad the RCMP has. They will check for a bomb, but that is it. We have sophisticated equipment, and the package has been tested for all known explosives, chemical weapons and biological agents. The package is safe, so stop your partisan bullshit.”

“Deputy Assistant Director Johnson here. I think you gentlemen need to sort your business and do it fast.”

“I’m sorry for the childishness, Director. I’m in the process of suing Insp Martin for his unprofessional behaviour, and he can’t seem to put it behind him. The mess up with the phone call this morning was him playing games. You should have been notified of this meeting as soon as the RCMP were informed, not to worry. I have taken steps to rectify the situation, and it will be resolved shortly.”

Martin is red with anger. I twist the knife by giving him a childish, haha kind of smile. It is enough to set him off, “What the hell did you do this time, you little shit?”

It is perfect timing as Insp Roch walks in the door. He clears his throat to get Martin’s attention then says, “I see what you mean by Insp Martin acting irresponsibly. Insp, the Assistant Commissioner is on line 3. You can take it in the next room. He said to tell you; he doesn’t care what you are in the middle of. He wants to talk to you now.”

Martin storms off.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” says Roch, “There was a conflict of interest, and Insp Martin should never have been allowed to be in the room. I will be taking his place for the foreseeable future. I have read the file. Before we continue, I want to give you a piece of advice. You may not like Trent’s arrogance or how he does things. Just know that he is one hell of a lot smarter than you or me. If he says he can do something, then believe him. If he says, it isn’t a good time for you to know who the Unabomber is, then have patience. I have worked with him before, and I’m telling you, he is as good as his word.”

I’m pleased with what he says, so I let him know, “Thanks for your honesty. I agree that I can be arrogant, but you can attest that it is often warranted. Now, shall we get back to the problem at hand?”

Roch states, “I see you have received your next package. Perhaps we should open it and see what is inside, assuming it is safe.”

Paul lets him know, “We have already established that it is safe.”

Martin’s three goons don latex gloves, open the package and start laying out the contents. Page one is put at the far end of the table with page two beside it. There is no way to fit it all on the table as there are almost 200 pages, double spaced. Ted wrote it that way so I could edit it. The first page is a note to me, thanking me for the help and some specific areas of the manuscript that I should look at. Page two is titled, “Industrial Society and its Future.”

Reading through the manifesto, I notice it is eerily similar to what he wrote in the other timeline, but there are differences. He wasn’t supposed to write it for almost another five years, which explains the discrepancies.