Chapter 14: Betrayal

I HAD A LOT OF THINKING to do. I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I seldom drink anything. The one glass of bourbon made my head muzzy. The one thing I vowed not to do was get out Terry’s laptop. I needed to have a good idea of what I would do before I even touched it. And that involved a lot of soul-searching.

It’s easy to judge other people and tell them what they should do. If you have this power, you should use it for good. Rid the world of danger, free unjustly imprisoned people, destroy totalitarian governments, eliminate online predators, stop phishing sites, stop interference in other countries’ elections ... There’s all this stuff you should do. But where do you draw the line?

Terry drew the line at destroying the world’s nuclear weapon access by leaving the balance of the three major super-powers and taking nuclear weapons away from everyone else. Why? How good was his judgment that none of them dared talk about the loss of their codes? How sure was he that Israel and Iran wouldn’t just assume the other had stolen from them and start an all-out conventional war? Pakistan and India? They’d been on the brink of nuclear war for years. Would the loss calm the tempers or increase the tensions in Northern India?

And if that was not the ultimate that Terry could do, what was so heavy a burden that he wanted someone else to bear it? Did I even want to know?

What was certain was that I didn’t want the power to be in someone else’s hands. Not even my government’s. Maybe especially not my government’s hands. If I kept the device and started using his program, I would need to disappear as completely as he had. I wasn’t sure I could do that. Eventually, I took a shower to cool off and went to bed.

I felt the bed shift and opened my eyes as Char pressed herself to me. She put her head on my chest and cried.

“He’s gone,” she whimpered. I held her close. I’d known him for only a few days and I was sorry to see him go. Char had been his personal nurse for months. She was devastated. I tried to soothe her, comfort her. But what can one do in times of such grief? I just held her.

Eventually, her kisses told me she had her own way she wanted to be comforted. We never spoke. We just moved together and found the comfort we were seeking in each other’s body. When we were exhausted, we slept, still holding each other. I slept a deep and dreamless sleep.

It was light out when I woke. I stretched, already knowing there was no one in bed with me. The beds in the little bungalows really aren’t made for two people. I vaguely remembered a kiss before she slipped away. I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and pulled on lightweight slacks and a polo shirt. Then I made my way to the main house for a cup of coffee. A few of the people from the cabana the day before were eating fruit and David’s latest fresh bread. I stayed there listening to the inane chatter and sipping coffee until everyone had left. I figured Char would be there shortly but by nine she still hadn’t showed up.

I left the main house and headed out to her bungalow to see that she was okay. David and a local woman were hauling out sheets and taking in cleaning supplies.

“Char?” I called gently into the bungalow. David came out to meet me.

“She took off early this morning. About six. I was just putting the bread in the oven. She stopped and said goodbye. She had an early flight to Bangkok,” he said. Damn. Another woman into and out of my life in too short a time. I wished she’d said goodbye to me. But maybe that’s what last night was all about. I just nodded and headed back to my Bungalow. I still needed to decide how I was going to handle Terry’s legacy.

I sat at the little table in the bungalow and pulled my laptop toward me. When it shifted, I saw it sat on a large envelope. It had my name on the front. My real name. Apparently, Char had not left without a word. I opened the envelope and poured the contents onto the table. A passport, birth certificate, and death certificate were accompanied by a hand written note.

Dag,

I’m sorry I can’t stay to offer a proper goodbye. He’s gone and that means I need to leave, too. When I was at the hospital last night, I collected the death certificate. His birth certificate and passport are also here. That should be all you need to shut down the investigation and put the world at rest again.

He knew he wasn’t going to live but he also knew he wasn’t the right person to make the big decision of how to use his weapon now that it existed. He understood that he was not God, though he had nearly accepted that title.

Dag, you aren’t God either. Though he respected your ethics and ability, he couldn’t possibly have known enough about you to entrust you with his power. I barely know you myself, and we have slept together. You shouldn’t have that power. I hope you will forgive me. I need to leave now.

Char

I sighed and picked up the documents. They were all for yet another identity. I’d known him as Terry Whiteman. The documents were for Gregory Wright. It would be difficult for me to present these to Mrs. Whiteman and tell her he was dead. I’d let Jordan figure that one out. Or not. Perhaps I should take the computer and just slip away like Char did.

Take the computer?

I quickly looked under the bed and the rumpled blanket where I’d concealed the laptop. It was gone.

I’d been had.

I’d just posted a note to Jordan from my office connection. It only said, “The cat is dead. Whereabouts of its toys is unknown.” I closed my connection as two men barged into my bungalow. One swiftly grabbed my computer and checked the drive.

“This isn’t it. Where’s the hacker’s computer?” one of the men demanded, shoving me down on my bed. I couldn’t quite identify his accent. European, I guessed, but I couldn’t tell where.