The Sentinel Ch. 04

"Dave?"

"The security guard at the company yesterday. You met him."

"Right, guess I did." That wouldn't work.

Resigned to work around the problem, Jack explained his idea. "The killer has a relationship with you and will always find you. But just as importantly, you can find him - at least through chat. We have to draw him out of his hole into the open where I can get to him or at least find his hole. I want to check the address you have for him in chat and any other information you might have. I have a friend that might be able to help us get some information from it, and we can go from there".

"Jack, the only reason he'll come out of his hole is to kill again. I've invited and tried to entice 'Lisa' several times to show up here at the house - to come spend time with me. The killer has my address here and at the office; he knows when I work and where to find me. I did it all for Lisa, or at least, I thought so. But 'Lisa' has always refused. I don't think you'll get the killer out unless it's to kill again."

Jack knew that and hated to admit it to Jan, but that's what he was counting on.

"I know, Jan," was all he said.

Jan brought her laptop down and put it on the table between them. Booting it up, she logged into her mail and waited while Outlook downloaded several mails. Most of them went to a folder labeled 'Company', but three went to one marked 'Personal'. Jan clicked to open the 'Personal' folder, and Jack saw several already read mails where Jan had been corresponding with the killer on a regular basis. The top three were unread, and Jan clicked on the third from the top - the first to arrive yesterday.

Scanning it, she turned the machine so Jack could read as well. It was Jan's good morning mail that Lisa sent more or less like clockwork - brief, full of affection and love. Jack pushed the computer back so Jan could open the next. It was much longer, and Jan took the time to read it more carefully. Pushing the computer to Jack again, she explained.

"We've been having a discussion for a couple of months about me - about me finding a lover, a man. 'Lisa' has been expressing concern about me and my future, my needs for actual physical contact. She said I was too alone, even with her presence, and needed to feel or enjoy the warmth of a hand on my breast or a caressing touch on my thighs. In light of what I know now, I think the killer may have been setting me up for another kill. At one point, we even talked about it being another woman, and Lisa thought that would be fine. She said that I couldn't live by cybersex alone. I'm supposed to be with a 'date' this Saturday when we meet."

Reading the mail, Jack was surprised at how good the killer was at getting into the role. If he didn't know better, he would certainly think this 'Lisa' as real as his own. The cadence wasn't right, but the words were very close. Looking at the address, he could see it was from the same chat service Lisa had used last night.

"Is this the only address you have for 'Lisa'," Jack asked.

"No, I had a different one she used when we first started chatting, but it changed shortly after that. The reason given was to hide from you."

The other address would have been his Lisa's. "Okay, I guess you have no other 'cyber' lover either."

"No, Jack, no one."

Moving to the next mail, today's good morning mail, Jan opened it and read. It was brief also with one small reference to the coming Saturday night. 'Please, Jan, if you won't do it for you, do it for me. I will never be with a man again the way I look now, but I can watch you enjoy one.'

They were both silent as Jack watched Jan hit the 'Reply' button and start typing. Jack looked down the yard to the ocean, a dark, blue grey, fairly calm. He could hear gulls and other birds going about their day and wondered how he could ever have shut himself up for so long, missing out on living. Lisa would have smiled, he thought.

* * * * *

Sgt. Linda Woo walked among the partitioned spaces of the open floor plan, stopping occasionally to see what was happening. Her 'chatters' were working away, involved in chat or inputting information in the data base for analysis by Tom. She felt a slight shiver as she realized John hadn't been far off the mark. Probably 80% of the monitors had some person in some stage of undress or complete nudity while her 'government' employees chatted away or sat idly, clicking on other chat rooms to see what was being said. They were probably numbed into celibacy, she thought, as she took in the way they seemed to just 'take it in stride' - no wandering hands touching their own bodies in response to a primal call from Id. No one stared openly, jaw a little slack, as some man buried his head between the thighs of a woman with her feet propped on the seat of her computer chair.

They had all been clearly informed of what their task would be and had all passed the psychological profiles that looked for normal, healthy, happy people with above average intelligence and an indifference to nudity. She had actually chosen about half her total workforce from people that belonged to or frequented nudist camps, and/or worked in the sex trade in strip joints or Gentlemen's Smoking Lounges. It was surprising how many erotic dancers actually had degrees that could give them viable careers but chose nude dancing just because it paid so well. The ones that she had chosen were now getting too old for taking their clothes off; they had left the profession not because they didn't like it, but because after 26 or so, their tips had dropped off, and the reality of a future that provided no future, had started to set in. The government gave them the chance to get back into the main stream and some hope of a pension.

A psych review was done once a week by a small staff of psychologists that roamed the floor, dropping by someone's cubicle to see what was on the screens and to check on what the viewer might be feeling about it. It was surprising how many middle-aged housewives had applied and were, in fact, working for her now. For most of these women, their children were grown, gone to college, or married; their husbands worked or had been divorced. They were left with time on their hands and nothing to do with it.

The main floor was an open area with twenty work spaces which had no cameras. Everyone here operated as 'blind' chatters with no cam - there for the fun of it, or at least, that's what the rooms they chatted in thought. Six 'special' spaces existed on the floor below; they were set up to look like someone's house or office, complete with cameras so a live video chat could be carried out if deemed necessary.

When you got right down to it, she had to admit it was a government-supported sex chat site open 24 hours a day. Maybe their fingers weren't sticky, at least not in their work spaces, but she was sure their minds were. God, she thought, John's snide observation was closer to the mark that he knew.

It had all become so grueling, a task that weighed heavy on Linda. She had found herself becoming desensitized by physical sex and affection. Her boyfriend of two years had been the first banished from her life, and then, communication with her family had diminished to the point that they were ecstatic to receive a phone call once a month even though they lived just across town. Then, it had been her fellow workers. It seemed the only one she had been able to really stay in touch with was Tom, although her contact with his wife and kids had dropped to a minimum. It was the hours in front of computer screens, communicating with her fingers and not her voice. It was the control of turning a cam on or off, of saying no to uninvited guests. But most of all, Linda suspected it was being someone else, as reality slowly faded, and her life became the necessities: eating, sleeping, hygiene and chat - chat having become the virtual reality that interfaced so well with the impulses from her Id, giving it free rein when possible.

At an intellectual level, she knew exactly what was happening; at an emotional level, at the core of her Id, she really didn't give a shit. She unashamedly watched the clock and walked the floor until she could go home to tune-in and turn-on - to bring her life to life.

Linda wondered if the team assigned to Tom's special list was having any luck but decided she would check when she got home through her remote logon. She had started her own sleuthing last night until she noticed Jan had logged on almost like clockwork. Linda wondered what it was that drew her to this particular woman. She knew exactly who Jan was. She was involved with Lisa Stone, the first victim. From what she had been able to learn, Jan and Lisa were on their way to becoming more than just chat friends when the murder had occurred. But Jan had remained active in chat and could be found almost daily, mostly in the evening. Linda had worked hard at keeping Jan in sight and hoped it would soon pay off. Something said it was important; for some reason, she actually thought Jan could be the chosen one, the next victim.

The government-paid hackers had been able to accomplish two things rather nicely, but who people connected with was not one of them. They had provided the means for Linda and her crew to add people to their buddy lists without the person knowing, and they had given their group the means to patch into almost anyone's video feed without being detected. They were working on a patch-in for the chat, but they only had the ability to receive one side of the conversation, not both. If the second party was not on the buddy list, then they couldn't see them, literally and figuratively.

Linda had suffered for several months, while the project was still in its infancy, when she had discovered that she enjoyed watching women much more than men. But how could that be? She knew she wasn't gay, or at least, she always thought that the case. But as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, she found many more female cams open on her desktop at home than male. She finally decided a great part of it had to do with just plain attractiveness. A woman's body had more appealing features than a man's. The skin was smooth, and lines more attractive; the nipples flushed and grew when excited. But then, she decided it wasn't important in the larger scheme of things. What she had become was all part of where she was going, and hopefully, the journey would end soon.

Stopping in her office, she checked her voice mail and decided, even though it was only three in the afternoon, it was late enough to go home. Just making the decision seemed to infuse her with energy as she made quick calls to the floor supervisors to let them know she was leaving and could be reached in chat or at home by phone if it was an emergency. Standing to leave, the phone rang. "Damn, why didn't I leave sooner?"

"Sgt. Woo, here."

She could hear the laughing and recognized the voice before she even had a chance to finish. "What do you want, John?"

"Linda, hi. Listen, the guys and me have a pool going, and we wanted to get the inside track if you know what I mean. Hell, maybe you want to get in on it, too. Twenty dollars will get you $600 last count. It goes like this: guess the day and hour that our very own Linda Woo does her first 'cybershow', and you win. Now we're talking full frontal nudity here, none of that flashin' your tits for us; we want to see it all, including the sticky fingers." There was a pause as John waited for her reaction, but fortunately, he would have had to have been in her office to have seen it. Then he continued in a more ominous tone, "We're all keeping an eye on you, Linda, even after hours. You think those special little programs, you guys have over there, are exclusively for you?"

Slamming the phone down, Linda sank into her chair and sobbed. Her shoulders heaved, and the tears came freely as they dripped from her cheeks onto the papers on her desk. There was nothing she could do about it. No one in his area would speak up or go against him; there was no line recording inter-office calls. It would be his word against hers, and she knew who would win. But what upset her most was how close he'd come to being right. If they only knew, she thought.

* * * * *

Riding in Jack's rental car, they looked like any other happy, successful couple on their way somewhere in life. Jack was driving, and Jan sat in the passenger's seat, her white sandals discarded on the floorboard and feet tucked up under her thighs as she leaned against the door to turn and look at Jack. Jan wanted to stop by the office to check things and had asked Jack to tag along. Instead, he'd offered to drive.

Parking in the same spot he'd parked the day before, Jack opened Jan's door and followed her over to the building. In the lobby Jack noticed a different guard was in and made a joke about getting his wish.

"What's that, Jack?"

"Oh, just the guard from yesterday. Not exactly a great P.R. representative if you know what I mean. I wanted to buy the company and fire him."

She laughed lightly, and said, "Dave was one of the original fifteen that started the company with Hank. He only works three days a week, and if I recall correctly, he's worth over a million dollars with the stock options the company was built on. I think he just hangs around out of loyalty to Hank and to protect me. He's always been that way. I actually think it's cute."

"Well, maybe I can offer him another million to go away," Jack responded.

Jan chuckled lightly and invited Jack up to the top floor to check out the 'site'. While the building was Art Deco on the outside, in the Systems area it was nothing but 21^st century. On this floor most the room partitions had been cleared away, and the windows were sealed over. The temperature was dry and cool, maintained that way by climate control systems that kept the 'technology' as Jan called it 'happy'. She gave him the nickel tour, showing him a small room with two people in it, explaining that their only job was to keep an eye on the company portal into the net, watching traffic levels and monitoring their gatekeeper software to keep the hackers away.

A row of six huge servers, with network switches stacked on top, fed into another row of storage and backup systems. Eight other people that Jack could see made up the day crew for Systems. Some sat at computer monitors, checking things; others wandered from screen to screen giving each a quick glance. Jan said 'hi' to a few of the employees and stopped at a desk to talk to the shift director about traffic levels, asking whether or not the elevator repair was giving them a fit because of the voltage fluctuations. All seemed in order, and Jan lead him down a floor to the Financial Department.

The rooms were still in tact on this floor, but floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors in the hallway gave it an open, airy feel in contrast to the barren look on Jan's floor. Not finding the person she was looking for, she stopped in another office and asked how yesterday had closed, seemingly pleased with a .25% lift in revenue and a 2% lift in overall 'hits'.

Then they went down another floor to Jan's office where she checked her voice mail and made a few calls: one to their bank and another to their brokerage firm. "That's it, Jack, that's what they pay me for around here. How about we stop at the store on the way back, and I'll cook for you this evening?"

As they turned the corner to leave the building, Jack noticed Dave, his favorite security guard, had come in on his day off and was hanging around with the guard on turn. He didn't look like a security guard today. He looked more like a person with a little extra cash and nothing to do with it - nuevo rich and no idea how to spend his money.

"Hi, Jan. How are you today?"

"Good, Dave; how goes life?"

"Another day, another dollar. At least, I hope so. What say you, pretty lady?"

Jan laughed warmly and responded, "Maybe we can make that by the hour instead of day. The way things are going, we just might double your worth in the next year, Dave."

That made Dave real happy; the smile was wide and bright as he offered a 'good day' to the boss lady and eyed Jack as he followed her out. Jack concluded that the guy was a creep who got lucky and found a honey pot in the form of a big paycheck. If it weren't for his opportunity with Hank, he would probably be washing cars, albeit, head car washer, but car washer just the same.

At the store they wandered from aisle to aisle not talking much, Jan seemingly lost in finding what she needed to prepare dinner while Jack contemplated the stark contrast his life had become in the space of three days. He'd gone from a self-imposed, penthouse jail cell and eyes, aching from watching computer screens all day, to a free man, living in the house of a very intelligent as well as beautiful woman. But most of all, he'd gone out into the world and found it pretty much the same way he'd left it - maybe, a little more frantic, but still the same people wandering around trying to find their way, just as he was.

Putting the groceries in the trunk while Jan got into the passenger side, he noticed a black van with polarized black windows and enough antennas to set up a SETI project on wheels. It wasn't that it was suspicious; it was just that it needed to be looked at. From the wide tires on gaudy chrome rims to the faint vision of fuzzy dice through the windshield, it spoke of a lot of money spent on an overpriced 'boy's toy'. He chuckled, thinking that's just what Dave needed to drive around in.

* * * * *

"Look, Woo, it's not working. I met with Tom this morning, and even painting the brightest picture, he really can't give me a closure date on this, not even a month."

Linda sat quietly, back straight, hands folded in her lap as she waited for the next part.

"I'm going to leave the task force intact until the end of the year. We should be able to absorb half the personnel into other areas. I mean, we are here to monitor and fight internet crimes, and you've built the best monitoring office we have. Why waste it? I want you to……"

Why draw it out, she wondered. Why give him the chance to enjoy the moment? The second the words roll off his tongue, it will be over.

"I quit."

"…do what you can to help find places for your people and get in touch with the FBI and some of the bigger local agencies to see if they can use…"

"I said I quit."

"What? You can't do that. Look, Linda, I know it's a disappointment, but I do recognize that you did the best you could. The odds were against you from the start; Tom told us that. But why quit? You have a career here. It's not failing because of you; it survived this long because of you. You're good, Woo, and I want you here."

"I can't do it anymore. I quit." Linda wondered if her neck looked as red as it felt, and if her ears were really the burning embers that they felt like. Could the Captain see she was about to break down in tears?

With a sigh of frustration as he slumped back in his chair, the Captain jerked open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of good Irish Rye with two paper cups. Let it all cool down for a second; let it all sink in while Woo contemplates what she just said, he thought. Pouring half a Dixie cup each, he shoved one towards her, and leaning back to sip, he contemplated Linda – scrutinizing her slowly, no rush. He got to this position on instincts and wasn't going to push them aside now. She didn't touch the whisky which didn't surprise him; so after finishing his own, he reached across for hers, drinking it down in one quick shot. He had pushed too hard, expecting Linda to perform a miracle. It wasn't fair, and he knew it.