The Committee

Did you ever have a dream in code? Last night I went back to The Condo and tried to figure out the last two digits for the hidden code, but I was so tired I fell asleep in front of the screen. All night long I dreamed long series of random numbers and letters. My head was apparently not satisfied with hexadecimal code. The dream included every letter of the alphabet and several figures from Aramaic, Chinese, and Farsi.

8:00 a.m.

I woke up as tired as when I fell asleep, still in the chair at the desk. When I saw what time it was I scrambled around to make sure my makeup and hair were all in place before Davy gets here. I don’t expect him until afternoon, but there’s a party tonight and he might be ticked if he just found out that Angel was gone. I have a feeling she didn’t tell him she was going. That means she won’t be at the party tonight. I had one of those creepy feelings down the back of my neck that told me I shouldn’t be here either.

When I got back to the desk, though, a flag I’d set up on the security system was chiming gently at the desk. Brenda used a credit card. It was charged yesterday. She’s in Belize. It’s time I left the country, too. I used my James Whitcomb identity and got myself a ticket on the most direct flights I could to Belize City, via Dallas/Ft Worth. The flight is at 11:55 tonight. I’m going after the bitch.

Now, back to my other problem. What are the last characters to the code? I set down the letters I have with all the possible permutations. Here are my choices at the moment.

b: b, be, bee
1: I, L, one, won
_
_
6: Six, G,
0: O, naught, zip, zilch, aught, nada (could be 60 with the 6)
1: I, L, one, won
d: d, de-, -ed (on Brenda’s tattoo, Simon used just a “d” instead of “ed” to make elated. But on his own, he used both the “e” and the “d” to make fated.)

Knowing Simon’s tendency toward the morbid, I’m probably looking for a death reference in here. Of course it could be sex or money, too. May as well do the same for the two characters I could plug in to the middle.

f: f, eff, ?
8: eight, ate, 8
e: e, (long or short sound, maybe even ā)
d: d, de-, -ed (on Brenda’s tattoo, Simon used just a “d” instead of “ed” to make elated. But on his own, he used both the “e” and the “d” to make fated.)
2: two, to, too, Z
d: d, de-, -ed (on Brenda’s tattoo, Simon used just a “d” instead of “ed” to make elated. But on his own, he used both the “e” and the “d” to make fated.)
1: I, L, one, won
e: e, (long or short sound, maybe even ā)

So, Simon is consistent. He’s (was) a game player. Game players always have rules that they follow or else they have to call themselves cheaters. Simon loved the game too much to cheat, which means that the letters should be in the order that they will be used. I won’t get “if” out of this, I don’t think. Combined with the “b1” in the first two places, here is what I get.

Bif? Bize (busy?), bile, bide, bild (oops, that switches the order)
Blf?, bl8d (that could work as in belated), bled, blez, blei, blee.
Bldi, blie?

Maybe I should try them with the next two letters instead. Think of it as “bi-“ something.

Bi-lego-id, bi-leg-old, bize-six-old, bizesixoid? Bi-f8-gold.

Wait a minute. Gold. That’s Simon-talk. Busy gold would work. Belated gold. Bled gold. There we go. Morbidity with the bleeding and money with the gold. What will it hurt if I try? I can always rebuild the system again if he decides to erase everything.

2:00 p.m.

I’m scared.

Davy is banging around out in the living room shouting at caterers and decorators for the party tonight. The party is for the board of directors of Bio-Research Technologies, one of the hottest new stocks on the Seattle market. But it’s not Davy that I’m worried about, or even the CEO of Bio-Research by himself.

I got into the thumb drive.

When I brought the computer out of hibernation, the message was still flashing on the screen: “Simon says, enter the next encryption code.”

Well, here goes. b-1-e-d-6-0-1-d. Bled Gold. Who is bleeding, Simon?

The screen blanked and I was poised to yank the thumb drive out of the port. Then a message appeared on the screen.

“There’s only one person in a billion that could get here, so congratulations, Dag. Everything you need is here. Simon says, nail the bastards. I’m counting on you, Dag.”
Then the screen dissolved and was replaced with a directory of hundreds of files. I scanned through a few of them. There were bank records, commerce records, spreadsheets, e-mail, and documents that set up off-shore accounts. Dag said he moved nearly two billion in assets for Simon before he died. These records showed traffic an order of magnitude greater than that.
There was a new area of fraud alive in the world, more profitable than drug traffic. I was holding one in my hand—a cellular phone.

I guess I would have been more at ease if I’d found some big crime syndicate in this mess. What scared me was that it was controlled by eight men and one woman. The committee comprised senior officers of every major corporation in the Northwest. And the way they were working would evade detection by the most careful auditors. They weren’t defrauding their own companies. They were preying on each other.

These people were the kind of people who could buy and sell a dozen of me a minute and not even care where I ended up. And one of them was going to be a guest at The Condo this evening. No wonder Angel had run. I’m doing the same thing.

I packaged up a compressed file of everything on the thumb drive. Then I sent it to Silas with instructions on how to access the data.

Then I started packing up.

11:55 p.m.

I’m at the airport, not that it’s doing me a lot of good. Nothing is moving with the storm. If I had half a mind, I wouldn’t have moved either, but by that time there wasn’t much choice.

The party got started around seven. I’d planned my escape route, but people started getting there before I left. I wasn’t counting on it being so early. I was going to get out around 8:00, but now I was going to have to watch for a break and make a move as quickly as I could. I hadn’t counted on early arrivals, or on the storm. Of course the first one to arrive would have to be Cinnamon.

She checked her phone and purse at the door and then headed directly for the private room opposite the office.

Of course, she knew that there were cameras all over the Condo. I’m pretty sure she knew where each one was. She went into the dressing room area and leaned into the mirror to powder her nose. She was wearing a very elegant gown this evening—pale blue that accented her tawny skin tones. It was a scoop neck front, but the back was cut so low that it nearly showed her butt crack. She turned so she was facing the camera and I saw the tube of lipstick she’d chosen from the counter drop to the floor. That was when I realized she was putting on a show. She tapped her foot angrily, made a big deal out of seeing where the tube landed, then bent over to retrieve it. While she was bent over, the straps of her gown slid down her shoulders and when she straightened back up, the dress slipped down around her waist leaving her pert little breasts exposed to the camera. Again she made a little display about being so silly as to let her dress fall off and slowly slid the straps back up her shoulders. She finished tidying herself up and turned to leave the private room. Just as she pulled the door open, she glanced up at the camera and blew a little kiss to it.

The girl had been giving James Whitcomb a show, intentionally inviting me to call for her. She was going to be so disappointed when she found out I was a girl, and we were both going to be really embarrassed when she found out what girl. Suddenly I understand the sudden impulse that guys have to run when a girl shows interest in them. I was about to run.

By that time the party was moving along with Davy serving drinks and monitoring the door. He checked everyone through and made sure that the house rules were followed. No phones, cameras, or weapons. Our security was as good as the airport’s. I was watching the CEO hand out gifts to his employees in the living room thinking that perhaps I could make it to the service elevator behind the kitchen when a knock came on my door. I checked the monitors and Cinnamon was standing outside looking up at the camera that monitored that side of the door. She tilted her head and waved her fingers at the camera.

Now what was I going to do? I could pretend not to be here, but then she would go ask Davy and there would be too much attention drawn to me. A flash of lightning and boom of thunder outside the windows shocked me as a gust of wind blew the cover off the hot tub. I was going to leave, but when I opened the door, Cinnamon rushed in and wrapped me in a warm embrace searching for my lips with hers.

“James,” she breathed in my face as she kissed my cheek. Before she could reach my lips I regained control.

“Cinnamon, baby,” I husked as I pulled her away.

“Have you recovered from your jet lag? I hope so.”

“I’m fine, Cinnamon, but I’m getting ready to leave right now. I have to make a trip tonight.” My mind was in overdrive trying to think of a way to use Cinnamon to get me out of the penthouse suite. Another gust of wind toppled a potted plant on the patio. A real storm was blowing in. Those plants are heavy.

“Take me with you, James,” she said. “I’ll be anything you’d like me to be. I’ll make your trip so much more enjoyable.”

“I don’t doubt you would, Cinnamon,” I said. “But I really need to get out of here now and I’d like you to help me. I don’t want to be recognized by any of the guys out there. They don’t know I’m here yet. I’m doing a little audit of their activities, you know.”

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone, James. I promise.” Just then the phone rang in the office. I knew that it had wrung in the bar as well and a quick glance at the monitor showed me Davy had answered it. I reached over and flicked on the speaker phone and pressed mute so I could hear and not be heard.

“Everything is going fine, Ms. B,” Davy said. “Mr. J got here on Tuesday and put everything in shape right away.”

“Who is Mr J?” I heard Brenda’s voice over a slightly delayed long-distance connection. I’d give anything to know exactly where she was calling from, but this conversation was getting dangerous already.

“The guy you sent to take control,” Davy said. “He’s got a lease and everything. Said he was part of the Committee.”

“There is no Mr. J on the Committee, Davy. You’ve been infiltrated.”

“Shit.” Davy hung up the phone and headed straight to the CEO of Bio-Research. This was looking bad. I glanced up and Cinnamon was looking at me in horror.

“I’m sorry, Cinnamon. But I’m one of the good guys. Are you with me?”

I headed for the door seeing on the monitor that the CEO had just looked up at the camera.

Then everything went black. It was a little pop and the monitors went out, the lights went out and the locks all closed. Another blast of wind hit the side of the building and rattled the glass so hard I thought it would cave in. I could hear screams out in the Condo and a gasp of breath from Cinnamon as she clutched my arm. I opened the door and pushed her toward the poolroom, letting the door latch behind me. It’s one thing to get out of an electronically locked door. You just turn the doorknob and leave. But I was counting on the electronic lock delaying any pursuit.

We emerged from the pool room into the buffeting wind. We were experiencing a storm like none I’d ever seen in Seattle. Down on the street the lights had all died. Everything was black. Clutching each other tightly, and a bag over my shoulder, Cinnamon and I were almost blown over when we were hit by the wind. Suddenly, climbing the ladder to the rooftop access stair didn’t seem like as good an idea as it had in the office. I could hear someone shouting orders behind us, though to get flashlights and search every inch of the Condo. We had no choice.

I yelled for Cinnamon to stay low and we crossed the roof to the ladder up. The covering tree behind the hot tub proved a challenge for Cinnamon to get over in her gown. I boosted her up the ladder and followed her closely. She hit the roof and rolled as another gust of wind hit and I was afraid she was going over the edge.

I grabbed her and dragged her back, staying low on the roof and dragging her toward the door. I was just reaching for the latch when Davy came blasting through the door.

Use greater force against itself. I quickly sidestepped and gave Davy a gentle shove, adding the force of my foot behind it. He went sailing straight ahead and over the edge of the roof. Cinnamon screamed as I heard a splash below and shoved her through the open door. Davy had gone into the hot tub. I was satisfied that was as good as I could expect. I half dragged half carried Cinnamon down the stairs all the way to the garage and to my car. I ripped the canvas off and stuffed it in the back seat along with my bag and we tore out of the garage, breaking the gate off since it wouldn’t rise in the blackout.

With the streets all dark, I made a bet that my best route would be to swing around the corner and hit the ramp up onto the Alaska Way Viaduct. It was in bad shape, but I had to bet it would take an earthquake and not a windstorm to finish it off.

I could hear sirens off in the distance as police tried to attend to the most urgent traffic conditions in the blackout, but the viaduct was quiet. Cinnamon was whimpering in her seat as I turned on traffic radio to see what was up. Apparently lights were going out all over town. I wasn’t going to enjoy taking off in this wind.

Finally Cinnamon spoke.

“Who are you really?” she asked. “Are you with the FBI? I’ll tell you everything I know. I promise.”

“I’m counting on that, Cinnamon,” I said.

“How did you know my name?” she asked. “The first night you called me by name but I’d never told you. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. Who are you?”

“I’m a friend, and you are about to become my new partner,” I said. “But first, you have to promise me not to over-react to what I’m going to say. Got your seatbelt fastened?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, literally checking her belt.

“I’m a friend,” I repeated, softening my voice. As I proceeded to describe our real first meeting at the Palamino Grill weeks ago, I continued to soften my voice until I’d reached my normal tones.

“Debbie?” she gasped.

“Cinnamon,” I said, returning to my most masculine tone, “don’t ever call me Debbie.”

“But, Deb. I… We… You… Then…”

“I’m sorry, Cinnamon,” I said. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I did tell you that I could disguise myself in such a way that you couldn’t tell who I was. We had a bet, remember?”

“Yeah. Oh, Deb. What I said. Or suggested.”

“Forget about it. You didn’t know I was a girl.”

“Well, it doesn’t make that much difference to me,” she said. Now I was dumbstruck. “I like it both ways.”

“Um, well… Look… I mean…” I wasn’t handling this as well as she was.

“Where are we going, Deb?” she asked.

“The airport,” I said. “I’d like you to drop me off and take care of my car. If you don’t feel safe going back to your own apartment, I’ve got a safe place for you, and I’m going to need someone to monitor things for me back at my office. What do you think? Would you like to do some work for me?”

“Deb,” she said, laying a hand on my leg, “I’d do anything for you. But can’t I go on the trip with you?”

“No. Seattle may not be the safest place in the world, but where I’m headed is even less safe.”

“Where is that?”

“I’m going after Ms. B.”

“Deb! You can’t do that! Let’s just go away someplace and wait till this whole thing blows over.”

“It’s not going to blow over, Cinnamon,” I said. “I just sent information to FINCen that will put some of Seattle’s biggest executives behind bars if they can sort out the data. The only person on the Committee who is missing is Ms. B. I’m going to bring her in.”

Cinnamon was quiet for a few minutes and I was afraid I’d completely overwhelmed her. In some ways she was more vulnerable than I was.

“That’s why angel took off yesterday, isn’t it?”

“You knew she was gone?”

“Davy called everyone when she didn’t show up to meet him this morning. He was really pissed. He wanted to know where you were, too.”

I laughed. “I was sitting in the office giving him orders,” I said.

“You are a better man than any man I’ve ever met,” she said at last.

We pulled into the departure lane at SeaTac. There were still lights, but it was blowing up an incredible storm. It wasn’t going to be fun.

I gave Cinnamon my keys, including office and both apartments. Then we got out of the car and I walked around.

“Thanks, Cinnamon,” I said as we met in front of the car. She didn’t say anything. She just wrapped her arms around me and gave me another big kiss. I didn’t resist too much. I wanted to look like just another businessman heading out on a business trip.

I got into the airport and discovered that all flights were being delayed because of the storm. Now I’m sitting in the executive lounge hoping that no one else on the Committee decides to take a late-night trip tonight.