Chapter 19

Cabin twenty-six on Lake Ouachita was an open secret. There were at least sixty such recreational spots the Confederacy operated across the United States alone. Over the years, he had managed to fish the lake during off weekends. This was not the recreational cabin. What Clem discovered here was a bit different. He was one hundred and thirty feet below the surface of the water. The area of Arkansas contained numerous natural caverns carved out of the rock by ancient underground rivers. A secure Confederacy facility lay deep within one of those fissures, flooded since the forty thousand acre lake was created in the mid 1950s. The water easily masked the thermal signature of the base. The island above them once had been a mountain peak itself. Even if the dam downstream was destroyed, the base would remain submerged in the cavern.

At this moment, Clem was more concerned that the tempers in the room would rupture the structure, causing it to flood. Over the years observing Lieutenant Percy when she had enough of his and Bubba's high jinks, he could see that Sir Samuel's emotions seethed under the surface.

"Myrrdin," the sub vocal request betrayed Clem's feelings. "How is Sir Samuel's blood pressure?"

"His basal physical condition is within normal parameters." The AI's reply provided no solace.

On the wall was a list of the suspects for King of Clubs and his cohorts. There was hope that analyzing the data from the attack might lead to a method to pinpoint the conspirators. Unfortunately, the footprint of the jamming device used against them in the ambush did not show a loss of contact. Once the jamming device had been destroyed, Myrrdin noted a change in the location of the members of the Clem's team. This mimicked privacy settings. It was surprising how many volunteers used that option. During several parties, even Clem himself had requested that option when he was putting buns into ovens that belonged to other households at the sponsor's request of course.

Getting antsy offered nothing to the collective thinking in the room. Quickly and as quiet as possible, he exited the room. Once in the hallway, Clem exhaled heavily.

Being a creature of action, the wait chafed at Clem. Years of working for the Confederacy had reinforced the concept of waiting for Sir Samuel to form a conclusion. In Clem's experience, Sir Samuel proved over and over to be very decisive. He only worried his nervousness would hamper the effort. He slipped outside to the hallway.

"Myrrdin, could you please place in a circle on the far wall the sponsor names of all who have requested privacy mode, for the last year?" He sat on a bench to the right side of the doorway.

"The required font will make the displayed names unreadable."

Clem thought for a second. "For now, just make it a big circle."

A blue circle appeared on the wall.

"Add into the circle the sponsor names of anybody who the privacy request covered." Clem slapped his forehead. "Could you make those names red?"

The blue dot morphed toward a violet.

The sound of steps announced company. Lieutenant Percy made her presence known. "Have an idea?"

"I remember looking over those notes Randy took at a debriefing." Clem still looked at the purple dot. He addressed the AI. "In Privacy Mode, do you have records of entry and exit from residences?"

Lieutenant Percy sat next to Clem.

"Records of ingress and egress are separate. They are not affected by Privacy Mode."

Lieutenant Percy placed her hand on Clem's forearm. "Please confirm that Privacy Mode excludes communication between residences."

Myrrdin responded. "That is confirmed."

Clem had an idea. "Remove any individual sponsors who neither left nor had any communication outside their residence."

The color of the circle turned purple.

"The ambush showed the jammer is portable." Sir Samuel's voice startled Clem. "That means the meetings could have been rotated between conspirators."

He looked at the director. "How big would the meetings be sir?"

Sir Samuel smiled. "Separate the circles by groups of two, three to four, five to eight, and larger."

"Also," Percy added, "further subdivide the circles by date. Please indicate if any holidays or sporting events that fell onto any of those dates."

"Factor in contractual impregnation attempts that coincide." Bubba, if his complexion could have revealed a blush, would have.

"How many does that leave, in the largest group?"

"Eighty-seven meetings, Sir Samuel," Myrrdin responded.

Sir Samuel patted Clem on the shoulder. "Start a friends and associates list on everyone involved."

Randy found himself in a funk. During his debriefing with Nicholas Christos, he discovered that the men he attacked were in fact dead. He had to kill the men; his family was in danger. He was justified, but he had a hard time sleeping without nightmares. He sat facing the Alps looking at colors of sunset.

"Randy," the voice was from Sergeant Capoue.

Randy did not look up. The sergeant had been shot because he had screwed up. Randy braced for the lecture to begin. All the sergeant did was sit down beside him. The shadows grew for an unknown time.

Randy finally decided to break the silence, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Oui, Randy," Henri remembered Randy's native tongue. "Yes."

Randy turned and looked at Henri Capoue. "How did you handle it?"

"To be honest," Henri locked eyes with Randy, "it still bothers me." He looked out at the mountains in the distance. "I sometimes shake with memories. I live with it every day."

Randy thought about the words. "Do you ever wonder if you should have done it differently?"

Henri pulled Randy close. "I hope I never stop wondering. Questioning in hindsight is good. I even have shed a few tears. I only worry that I will never have such doubts."

"I acted even though I was told not to."

"What made you act?"

Randy paused before answering. "Somebody screamed."

"What were you told to do after you reported the scream?"

"They took my tablet. I could not communicate with anybody."

"You had to make a decision based on a changing set of facts." Henri massaged Randy's shoulder. "Did you know how long before my team would arrive?"

Randy started to shake his head, there was a moment of remembered revelation. He whispered, "Yes," he defended his actions, "but without the clock on the tablet, I could not gauge the time."

Henri waited, he needed Randy to consider the situation. The young man had to contemplate the choices. "I am going to ask an if-question."

Randy tilted his head, scrunching up his eyes.

"What if we could not have gotten there in time?"

Randy stared out the window. He thought about the permutations. "I would have done the same thing."

"What happened will still replay in your mind, Randy. What you must remember is that you did your best in that situation." Henri stood up. He walked toward the door.

Randy did feel differently, however he still had the nagging guilt. "I still feel a bit awful."

"It never really goes away." Henri stopped at the door.

Randy stood up. "What helps you?"

"I am a base creature," Henri motioned for Randy to cross the room. "Temporarily, sex works wonders."

"I am still a dependent." Randy stopped halfway to the door.

"As a Confederacy Marine, it is my duty to succeed in my mission." Henri motioned again. "Mademoiselle Jenkins has been transported back to be with the girls."

Leslie Jenkins was no longer here, there might be hope. Randy took another step.

"There is a club here that fits our situation." Henri ushered Randy through the door. Randy could see he was sub vocalizing. Henri nodded. "The American term is head job, I think, but alas I am a 'feelthy' Frenchman." He patted Randy heavily on the shoulder.

Randy walked through the door. He turned to look at Henri. "Head job?"

Henri laughed. "Trust me." After closing the door, they proceeded to the elevator.

"Andres," Sir Samuel caught the man's attention. "I think we need to brief young Mr. Jenkins."

Andres Zucher always spoke honestly to his boss. "Is that wise?"

"I believe that our adversary is still uncertain of who Randy is." Sir Samuel turned to Bubba. "The interrogation of the surviving botanical garden's attacker hinted that someone wanted to prevent an exchange between computer experts. The fact that the girls were interviewing an entomologist was overlooked."

"He was able to offer insights concerning Carter's debriefing," Priscilla Percy added. "I believe Clem's use of the graphics to help differentiate the data mirrored some of young Mr. Jenkins' templates he used to organize his observations of the debriefing."

The majority of the people around the table nodded in agreement. Sir Samuel folded his hands. He might have done this subconsciously. Everyone at the table doubted that. It was a nonverbal cue to pay attention and obey. "I intend to use him to bait our adversary into having an emergency meeting." Nods of agreement and revelation signified the group's understanding.