Page 20 of Radar (Iniquus Certified Cerberus Tactical K9 #2)

Xander

Friday

Newark, NJ

The phone rang. It was Hiro. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m having a pleasant nap in the meadow,” Xander said.

“All hell was breaking loose at the airport. They had the emergency vehicles out and ready to respond in case the planes started falling out of the sky. But we’ve finally got support heading your way.”

“It’s over? Comms were reestablished?” Xander asked.

“Correct,” Hiro affirmed. “I’m having the various timelines and video feeds run through AI. I’ll have a readout soon,” Hiro said. “Hey, six-million-dollar man, I watched you running on CCV. You’re in pretty good shape.”

“Surprising how a body responds to existential threat,” Xander said. “What’s this about six million dollars?”

“A seventies TV reference, let it go,” Hiro said. “Listen, even if the contents of the case melted, there was obviously something there that the owner, supposedly Orest, didn’t want seen. Good find. Radar gets a steak from me next time you’re in town.”

“I’ll tell him. I didn’t hear anything that sounded like a crash. Did all the planes make it down okay?” Xander asked.

“The planes are all safe. The FBI is headed your way to collect the carry-on’s remains. I need you to sit tight.”

“Well, I’m lying tight.” Xander reached up to scritch Radar. “That’s the best you’re going to get from us right now.”

“Fair.”

“What was the reach of the communications outage?” Xander asked.

“Just the Newark tower. Cell phones and computer systems in the area were unaffected throughout.”

“Interesting. I don’t remember the machine doing anything like that before. It only affected air traffic control? And it hit Newark, New Jersey, but didn’t hit Manhattan, NY? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Hiro said.

Xander sat up. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Theory: The Zorics were testing their ability to cause a mass casualty event, specifically in a high-traffic hub. They meant to turn on the machine, test it, and shut it down once they had verification of efficacy.”

“Okay. Possible,” Hiro said.

“Theory: Occam’s Razor.”

“Your favorite,” Hiro said with a crunch.

“Because it’s true. Usually, the simplest answer is the correct one. Are you eating again?”

“I’m shoving carbs in my face at a distressing rate. I’m getting too old for battlefield nerves. Back to your Occam’s Razor. In this case, the simplest solution is that the briefcase and the tower communications issues are unrelated and just happened to transpire in a tight time frame.”

“Simple,” Xander said. “But so is sticking your head in the sand and not seeing anything that’s going on around you.”

Hiro didn’t respond.

“Let’s wait to see what AI pulls up before we speculate,” Xander finally said.

“In the meantime,” Hiro said. “I have some answers as to the question, why is Orest Kalinsky spending a whole day in Fairbanks, Alaska? His foundation has been sponsoring a researcher who studies arctic squirrel hibernation.”

“Say again?”

“Arctic squirrel hibernation. A guy named Dr. Claude Burns.”

Xander pulled his water bottle from the side pocket of his pack. “I’m trying to see how that would help The Family.”

“I’ve been trying to figure it out myself, as a matter of fact, we round-tabled it to brainstorm ideas. We’ve landed on one that was pretty farfetched and one that might be reasonable given Orest’s obsession with food.”

Reaching into Radar’s vest, he pulled out a collapsible bowl. “Squirrel meat?” Xander poured water until the bowl was half full and dragged it toward Radar. “Let’s start with reasonable as a warmup for farfetched.” He took a swig and spun the cap back in place.

“Reasonable,” Hiro said, “he wants to know how to hibernate animals so he can use them as fresh food.”

“If you can hibernate a squirrel, why not a cow? So instead of just freezing the meat, he hibernates the animals, then brings them back to life—well, reanimates them and eats them fresh?” Xander asked. “Something about that is wholly unappealing.”

“Agreed,” Hiro said. “Our records indicate Orest isn’t just a foodie, but his focus on food might be a manifestation of an obsessive-compulsive disorder. He dislikes any kind of preserved food. Orest insists that everything be fresh. Freshly caught, freshly picked, freshly butchered.”

“What’s the farfetched idea?” Xander asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.

“What if Orest was considering the possible outcomes of what the family was about to attempt. He wanted to make sure the family was safe.”

“Okay, stop,” Xander said as he checked his watch. His flight to Chicago had just left. He’d have to figure out a new path to Fairbanks. “If you’re about to tell me that Orest was going to deep freeze the family, I don’t need that insanity in my head.”

“Except that it might be a real-life possibility,” Hiro said.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“I am,” Hiro said. “This Claude Burns guy was just hired by NASA to work on their Mars project.”

“Like they think that it would be a good idea to hibernate the astronauts?” Xander ran that thought through the lens of all those sci-fi books he enjoyed so much.

He enjoyed them as fiction, Xander clarified.

He didn’t like them so much when they might be coming to fruition in the here and now.

“I can see why NASA would want to try it. I mean, they’re talking about a possible three-year stint in a very small space.

It would, in fact, solve a lot of problems. Food and water consumption, fecal production.

Speaking of shit situations, I’m switching subjects.

” Xander crisscrossed his legs. “What’s happening with York? ”

“He’s out of critical care in a step-down unit. But it was a sixteen-hour surgery. He’s still in the ‘anything can happen’ window. Watch and wait.”

“But his heart is pounding, and he’s breathing on his own?” Xander pushed.

“Fortunately, he’s at the same hospital where they took Finley’s ex-girlfriend.

Grace Del Toro, who was Lacey Stewart back then.

Finley met her at a car crash when she was overcome by palytoxins.

The hospital had her medical records and was able to do a comparison.

HIPAA, so that’s all I have on that unless and until someone can produce a warrant or York and Grace sign off on it.

I do know York’s on oxygen but breathing on his own.

We’ve got people sitting with him around the clock, checking credentials when anyone comes in, and closely monitoring what they do.

The secrets that man holds in his head are of vital importance to the U.S.

government. They’re not cutting corners on his security.

Speaking of security,” Hiro said, “We don’t have access to the code words to figure out the surveillance that York put in place when he was tracking Orest. We’ve got some high school hotshot code breaker who works for us after school and on weekends, trying to figure it out. ”

“Funny,” Xander said.

“Our mission isn’t ranked as critical,” Hiro said. “Don’t hold your breath. In the meantime, a judge gave permission to tap Orest’s phone. That’s how we know about the car to Lumberjack.”

“He’s traveling alone?” Xander saw a car pull up and three people with FBI emblazoned windbreakers get out.

“The car stops at Orest’s address at the hotel, and then at the apartment building where Claude Burns lives. I have Burns’s picture. I’m sending it over now.”

Xander stood and lifted a hand to identify himself to the special agents before opening the message and blinking. “Serious?”

“What?” Hiro asked. “Do you know this guy?”

“Yeah, he’s every squirrel that’s ever run in front of my car. Bushy hair pulled back into a ponytail, big liquid brown eyes, and a pointed face. This man looks like he’s in the same general family.”

“Once seen, it cannot be unseen,” Hiro sighed. “But Claude is a terrible name for a squirrel.”

Xander watched as the FBI agents took safety equipment from the trunk. “Moving back to the question at hand. Claude is working for NASA? That means he’s no longer working for Orest Kalinsky.”

“Claude works for Orest’s foundation until the end of the year’s hibernation,” Hiro said.

“At any time in the next few weeks, the squirrels should wake up. That’s what NASA told me when I stuck my thumb out and got a heli lift down to Hampton with a colonel who had a meeting.

I flashed my badge at their human resources folks, got the information, and came back.

I’m not saying that those helicopter rides aren’t one hell of a perk and make life that much more interesting, I am saying that we didn’t tell the tower about the flight. ”

“How do they get away with not telling the tower?” Xander asked.

“There’s an exception in the airspace above Washington that allows some military flights without broadcasting sensitive information to the public.”

“Lesson learned. I guess I can fly in and out of Richmond, Virginia, and drive a bit,” Xander said. “It’s inconvenient, but I like staying alive.”

“The brass is taking advantage of the program. Military helicopters are clogging the skies, risking more helicopter-driven accidents. Did I take advantage, anyway?” Hiro asked.

“Yes. Does that make me a hypocrite to be bitching about it now? I get that sometimes my moral fabric is frayed. But in this case, it was in service of humanity, so I don’t feel bad. ”

“Is NASA going to give Claude a heads up that the DIA interested in him?” Xander asked, putting a calming hand on Radar’s head, as he watched the FBI pull on their safety suits.

“I doubt it,” Hiro said. “I shook my finger at them and gave them a stern warning.”

Xander was looking at Claude’s photo. “I think I’m about the same age as this guy. Do we have a file on him? I want a solid approach if I need to make him my bestie.”

“We did a basic workup of his education and employment,” Hiro was crunching again.

Xander had tossed his earlier protein bar without even a bite. As the adrenaline receded, he was starving.

“Basically, he’s been with the Orest’s foundation since he started his doctorate. From his social media posts, it appears that Claude hangs out with nerd friends playing board games. Wife. Three young kids. Every year when Orest comes to see his dogs, they hand out together in Lumberjack.”

“It’s the same pattern this year?” Xander asked.

“Exactly the same,” Hiro confirmed. “I’m interpreting this trip as a normal behavior pattern for Orest Kalinsky.

From Claude Burns’s posts things are the same as they ever were.

Claude posts nothing alarming, concerning, dark, ominous, or impending or doom-like.

There’s nothing political or ideological sounding. It’s cosplay and kid pictures.”

The FBI had finally gotten themselves together and were waddling toward Xander in their PPE.

“The squirrel guy’s pretty laid back,” Hiro concluded. “It’s Orest who’s the monster.”