“Once you see things differently, you gain power. All of a sudden there is enlightenment.” Joan Chen PPenelope Spence glanced over her shoulder as Walker turned onto the Ravenel Bridge and headed toward Mt. Pleasant. Opened in 2005 and built at a cost of over $500 million dollars, with a span of 1,546 feet it is the longest cable-stayed bridge in the Western Hemisphere. Crossing the Cooper River just north of the historic section of the Charleston peninsula, its twin spires and miles of graceful cables make a striking backdrop for tourist photos. Looking back she could see the South Carolina Aquarium and could just about make out the famous “Rainbow Row” of restored Charleston style homes along East Bay Street that have inspired a thousand artists and many more photographers. Far in the distance, at the mouth of the harbor, was Ft. Sumter and just beyond, the Atlantic Ocean. Looming on the Mt. Pleasant side of the Cooper was the USS Yorktown, a World War II era aircraft carrier now converted into a fl oating museum. She felt the Bronco reach the apex of the span at the center point between the two massive towers and start the gradual 150-foot descent back down. Charleston, the town she and 14 generations of her family had called home for over 250 years, melted behind her as they headed north on U.S. 17 in the direction of Myrtle Beach. She sighed as she considered the fact that she had no idea when she would see the city again, if ever. More than 121 The Fourth Awakening one bridge had been crossed. Walker understood the whipsaw of emotions she was experiencing and didn’t intrude on her thoughts by speaking. Instead of getting on I-526 as she had expected, Walker continued a few more miles and made a left on State Route 41. The road was poker straight with light traffic. Penelope smiled when she thought about the Bronco. In Charleston, it was a noticeable eyesore, but on the back roads of rural South Carolina it was just another battered truck with a garden-variety redneck behind the wheel. They drove in silence for nearly half an hour before Walker turned on his left turn signal in the small town of Huger— pronounced “Huge Gee”— and headed west on State Route 402. He finally broke the silence. “What was the last you heard about Senator Horn?” “Stable, but still critical.” “That’s too bad. We really wanted Horn to go on the talk shows this morning.” “Excuse me?” “Your article today got the ball rolling, and the senator’s appearance would have caused a feeding frenzy in the media. That alone could have been enough to force Homeland Security to come clean on our research.” “What do you mean?” “Classified or not, Horn was ready to go public. That would have put tremendous pressure on Homeland Security to declassify it. You could then have written anything you wanted with impunity. Now we have to go to plan B.” “Plan B?” “You and I will be spending a great deal more time together then I initially thought.” “Sorry,” Penelope said. “Don’t be. I enjoy your company.” “Thanks. What happens next?” “We have a very narrow window of opportunity here. With your help, we either flip Noah Shepherd, or put so much heat on Homeland Security that the decision is taken away from Shepherd and made by the Secretary of that department. He has much more political exposure, and with what’s happened in the past 24 hours he’s probably already starting to feel the heat. We have to move quickly before anyone can change their mind.” “How do you propose doing that?” 122 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin “Before Senator Horn’s stroke I would have said he was going to ram it through for us, with you covering the story. Now it’s all up to you.” “Me?” “Yes. We have to make as much information public as quickly as possible. Right now, because of your story about my arrest and escape combined with the rumors about what Horn was going to say, our opponents are back on their heels. That won’t last for very long.” “How long do you think you’ll have?” “I’m guessing we’ll need to get Hermes declassified and in the media in the next 48 to 72 hours. If we miss this opportunity, who knows when we’ll get another chance. Horn’s condition will temper some of the attacks on me and Hermes, since they will appear in bad taste if he’s still in critical condition. The only winner here is you.” “Me?” “Yes,” Walker said calmly and without even a hint of regret or emotion “His stroke has greatly increased the value of the stories you’re going to write.” Penelope wasn’t sure how to take Walker’s last comment. While it was true that if she were the only source of information on a breaking story it would enhance her value, the thought of benefiting from another’s suffering went against the grain of her conscience. Walker’s analysis was as cold-blooded as it was accurate. She turned and stared out the front windshield as an uncomfortable silence settled in again. The Bronco came up on a Ford F-150 pickup, laboring at 15 mph under the posted limit, pulling a bass boat. Walker inched up on the rig, let a Honda Civic headed the other direction pass, then hit the gas. The Bronco’s big V-8 accelerated with such force that Penelope was unexpectedly pressed back into her seat. While the Bronco might not be much to look at, with a powerful engine, new tires and a tight transmission, clearly it could hold its own if evasion were necessary. As the minutes ticked by, something else dawned on Penelope. “Th ere won’t be any story if I can’t get in touch with Mark Hatchet at the Post.” Looking around the Bronco for a pen and paper she didn’t see any. “I wish I had something to take notes with.” “Look under your seat.” Puzzlement crept over Penelope’s face as she felt something thin and metallic wedged under the seat. She pulled out a laptop computer. Her laptop. “Where did this come from!?” 123 The Fourth Awakening “I got it out of your house last night.” “What?” “I thought it might come in handy. I bought you a lighter power plug…” “What?” “You plug it into the cigarette lighter and…” “I know what a lighter plug is,” she said angrily. “What were you doing in my house?” “I already told you. I was getting your laptop for you.” “You were in my house last night?” “Yes.” “Wait a minute,” as another thought occurred to Penelope. “I keep my laptop in my bedroom.” She glared at Walker. “Well?!” “Well, what?” “I keep my laptop in my bedroom.” “That’s a statement, not a question.” Furious, Penelope slowly asked her question, enunciating each word carefully. “Were… you… in… my… bedroom… last… night… while… I… was… asleep?” “Yes… I… was. I told you I was getting it for you since you were going to need it, and it was unlikely you would bring it to our meeting. I did it for you.” “For me? You were in my house. Hell! In my bedroom stealing my laptop so you could give it back to me today?” “Yes.” “Did you set the fi re after you finished looting my house?” “No. That started hours after I had left .” “Are you the one who told me to run?” “In a manner of speaking.” “What the hell does that mean?” Walker shrugged and his eyes locked on the road in front of them. “No, no don’t tell me; let me guess. I’m not ready to understand.” Walker struggled to keep a poker face and kept driving. “Do you know who caused the fi re?” “Of course. So do you.” “You’re talking nonsense again!” “Am I? All things considered, you’ve got your laptop, and you got out of the house uninjured. I would think that would make you happy.” 124 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin “What would make me happy is for you to have prevented my house from burning down, but for now I’ll settle for you telling me what caused it.” Walker shook his head. “Sorry, you’re not ready yet.” Penelope grunted and slammed both of her fists on the dashboard of the Bronco. Small clouds of dust and lint came out of the air vents. “You know, I think you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” “Th anks.” “That wasn’t meant as a compliment.” “I know.” Walker shook his head in appreciation, “You shouldn’t be so frustrated. You really need to let yourself relax and be grateful for how far you’ve come so quickly.” “Having come so far still doesn’t mean you’re going to start giving me any straight answers, does it?” “No. But you’re a lot closer.” “What does that mean?” “When you can tell me who started the fire and why, let me know.” Penelope glared a hole though Walker. “I give up.” She said, throwing her hands up in despair. “Will I be able to talk to Mark Hatchet and send him an article?” “You will not be able to speak directly to Hatchet until tomorrow, but you will be able to send him your article. We’ll find a Wi-Fi coffee shop and bounce your article around the globe for a few hours so it can’t be traced. “Cool. What happens tomorrow?” “We’ll be at the compound.” “Won’t they be able to trace a call from there?” “Maybe, but I doubt it.” “Why do you doubt it?” “We’ll be using Walker Industries’ communication satellite. Th ey tried to hack it before, but I doubt they’ll try again.” “Why? What happened?” “When we detected the hack, we retaliated. It led to quite a bit of messy back and forth with the NSA, some of our government contracts, our…” “When did all of this happen?” “About six months ago, when they first started aggressively looking for me. Let’s just say they experienced some computer problems.” “Wait a minute,” Penelope said with a smile. “That was around the time 125 The Fourth Awakening there was a foul up with Social Security checks and they were late going out. The Secretary of the Treasury was almost forced to resign.” “No comment.” Michael Walker smiled, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You didn’t.” Penelope began to laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “My God! You did! You hacked the Treasury Department’s computers to get the National Security Agency off your back?” “They were a lot easier than trying to hack the NSA.” “Didn’t you get in any trouble?” “No. But we certainly got their attention. We quietly reached a ceasefi re agreement. ‘You leave our stuff alone and we’ll leave your stuff alone.’ Th e politicians in Washington are more afraid of the AARP than anything I might have been doing.” “You’re awful,” Penelope said wiping a tear from her eye aft er laughing so hard. “So, now are you going to tell me exactly what happened with the Hermes Project?” “No.” “No?” Penelope’s smile vanished. “What do you mean, no!?” “Senator Horn is the big story right now. You were the last reporter to speak to him and you have a pretty good idea what caused his stroke. With everything that happened yesterday now on the record, you’ve already got a huge story to write. Without the senator, the Hermes Project will have to wait until it’s declassifi ed.” Penelope opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she realized Walker was right. It would be a huge build-up piece for when she fi nally got to the compound. Every news outlet in the world would be waiting for her to file her report. “Okay. But what if the Hermes story breaks before you get around to telling me about it?” Walker smiled. “Even if they should somehow find the compound, which I highly doubt they will, I promise you an exclusive interview with both me and Dr. Altman.” “On the record and you’ll give me direct answers to all of my questions?” “Absolutely.” “I’m going to hold you to that.” Penelope said as she plugged her laptop in to the cigarette lighter. For the next two hours they rode in relative silence, 126 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin broken only by Penelope asking Walker a few clarifi cation questions. She ended up with two articles, one long and one fairly short. Both were a bit wordier then her normal style, but Mark would edit as he saw fit. She wanted to give him everything she had since they didn’t have the ability to discuss the copy over the phone. Th e first and longer piece was a general overview of her day ............