Deadly Pursuit

Chapter 1

The small hours of the Sunday before Thanksgiving saw Jerry Connors passed quietly in his sleep at his Georgetown mansion. His wife, unable to rouse him for their ritual morning cup of tea, anxiously phoned their doctor who on attending, pronounced him dead from natural causes. With two recent mild heart attacks, and a steadfast refusal to modify diet or lifestyle, Jerry had been a walking time bomb.

Two days later, Mary Donaldson, a fit 34 year old runner and mother of three, collapsed dead on her morning jog along San Francisco's Famous Fisherman's wharf. Two weeks later, the autopsy declared the cause of death as massive acute myocardial infarction.

Across the country, a death notice appeared for Albert Hillson, 37, beloved husband and father of five.

In Chicago, James Shelley, 29, a well-respected Chicago based technology consultant was found slumped over a half-finished memo to his Managing Director. Those who knew him agreed that he had worked himself into an early grave.

Charles Montgomery’s death was entirely different. Awaking in a cold sweat with severe stomach cramps, his condition quickly deteriorated into violent vomiting. Twelve hours later vomiting blood, he finally sought medical advice. Presenting to the local emergency department, his initial diagnosis of food poisoning was severe enough to warrant admission for observation. As a precaution, he was placed on a rehydration saline drip. A stronger neurological agent was added an hour later when the epileptic fits began. Three hours later he was dead. Absent a cause of death and with no toxicological indicators, the medical examiner was mystified by the death. Unable to spend too much time investigating, she ruled cause of death as Unknown.

Susan Richards died an excruciatingly painful death like her friend Charles. Her distraught husband of 28 years, Bob, railed against hospital authorities whom he blamed for her needless death. A well-oiled Mercy Hospital bureaucracy swung into action, smoothly expressing sympathy whilst quietly reviewing liability and checking medical records to assess risk.

No one connected these two deaths, or any of the others. Had they done so, other lives might have later been spared. But no one did. Families gathered, fought, grieved, departed. Funerals were held. Wills read.

For most, life's realities gradually reasserted their pre-eminence. Death’s ripples in the pool of their existence gradually damped. Routine returned..

Chapter 2

Bob Richards could not move on. Cocooned by grief, he could not understand how his successful, fit, relatively young wife had been suddenly struck down with a mystery illness. Encouraged by the hospital’s initial expression of sympathy Bob asked for the autopsy report. When it arrived several weeks later, he retired in eager anticipation to his favourite lounge chair to read their reply.

"Dear Mr Richards

Per our previous correspondence, we extend our sincere sympathies for your loss. We understand and support your need to come to terms with the death, or disability, of your family member" the letter began.

"After carefully consideration of your request at the highest levels, we regret to inform you that hospital policy prevents us from complying with your request unless required to do so by regulation or an appropriate authority such as a court.

Our mission is to work in partnership with our patients, their families and the community to minimize patient recovery time through a comprehensive array pf rehabilitation services. We are very proud of the standard of care we offer all our patients as recognised by the State of California with the 'Best State Hospital' award over the past three years.

Ongoing disability or loss of a loved one is never easy. There are, however, a number of agencies who are able to help you through this difficult time. A wide range of support material can also be found on the Internet. When you are ready, we encourage you to contact the agency or support group that best suits your particular need.

Please contact us if we can be of further assistance."

Bob re-read the letter to confirm he was being blown off by the very people who had killed his wife. First they kill her, and now they’re trying to tell me I need help! Who do they think they’re dealing with? he shouted at the walls in his living room.

Mercy Hospital knew exactly who they were dealing with. A state police check, national government security check, social media profile search and an internal review of their claimant databases were all part of the standard procedure for the hospital’s insurance company on receipt of complaint letters.

These enquiries and profile analysis yielded the electronic opinion that Bob was 'low risk' as a claimant. Bob’s profile comprehensively detailed his life. They knew he was a 48 year old software engineer who had lived in North Fair Oaks, California for the past 25 years. For 22 of those years, he had worked as a software engineer for a single company, Hewlett Packard based at Palo Alto. Gross salary last year of $75,430 per annum excluding health benefits. Married to deceased. No children. No police record apart from several speeding fines and a youthful drunk driving warning. Credit rating of AA+ and mortgage of $254,000 against a single asset, his home. Late payment of AMEX credit cards five times over the past five years. No previous claims, prominent friends or hospital board associations identified.

A standard claim rejection Letter 1 template was duly automatically completed and dispatched. After five days without further activity, the file was automatically closed. Not one human hand or mind was involved as intended by those responsible for efficiency dividends at the Insurance company. Factually correct in every respect, their response to Bob was predetermined according to automated business rules like hundreds of others sent over the years. Statistically, they knew, only 5% of responses required further work after five days.

Bob’s friends would have described him as ‘mild’ and a ‘bit of an introvert’. In their opinion, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. His grief of the death of his closest and dearest confidante however, had turned him into someone else. Her sudden departure left a hole in his life that ached to his very soul. He couldn’t eat. Sleep eluded him for all but a few hours each night. On waking, he would run his hand over the empty space in their bed remembering. Unbidden snatches of moments together haunted his waking hours.

The insurance company was unaware of ‘Bob’s loveable eccentricities’ as his friends called them. They were not posted on the Internet. Over the years, Bob had earned himself a reputation both at home and work for his tenacity and attention to detail. Both highly sought after attributes in a software engineer, at work Bob was well regarded by peers, but generally avoided by his managers. Bob hated change which he saw as unnecessary spin most of the time. Susan, the complete opposite, would sometimes scream in frustration at Bob fussing over minute details. She would describe him to their friends as being a ‘binary decision maker’ – his response to any question or problem was always ‘no’ until all the facts lined up, and then it became ‘yes’ at which point he became as immovable as a granite boulder.

Yet Bob was not stupid, nor untouched by the machinations of large organisations. His many years dealing with management had continually reinforced his maxim that management understood just two things. ‘Good things’ for which they would crawl over anything or anyone to take credit, and ‘bad things’, for which they would crawl under anything or anyone to avoid responsibility.

Reflecting on his corporate experience, Bob recognised he would need to ratchet up pressure on the hospital if he was to get anything more than platitudes from them. He needed a plan, even though, in his sleep deprived grief, planning was the last thing his body wanted to do.

Bob returned to work where he carefully and methodically began assembling his plan.

Chapter 3

Well Sir, I can’t rightly tell you whether the fire was deliberately lit or not. Give me another 48 hours and I’ll be able to be more definitive replied the tall, lanky fire chief in his broad Texan drawl.

What’s your best guess at this stage chief? enquired the worried executive.

After a moment’s thought the chief responded.

If I were to have to guess right now, I’d say this wasn’t arson. See here, he pointed to a blackened lump of what appeared to be ash and plastic, this here looks to me like the point of initial ignition. All this ash here tells me that there was lots of paper stored here. A spark or sustained heat around all that paper would be enough to ignite it. In an old building like this, well, a fire would take hold real quick. Mind you, like I said, until I get a team of experts in here later today, I can’t be certain, but I’d say it could be some old wiring or something that started it. Happens a lot in these old buildings unfortunately. Sure hope you’re insured! he concluded with a wry smile.

Noticing the long rows of server racks, the chief added sympathetically, hope you didn’t lose too much from all them there computers?

Blanching a little, the executive swallowed, replying in what he hoped was a cheerful convincing tone no, not much. The insurance will cover the loss, and we have a backup of the data. It’s nothing more than a small bump in the road.

Good to hear. What is it you do here anyways? I couldn’t find a listing for your company in the local directory. That’s why we were a little late contacting you.

Oh, we’re a private government contractor the executive lied smoothly. We’re working on an efficiency initiative – software optimising trash collection routes across several cities. We believe we can cut costs by between 10 and 15%. We’re also working on bypasses and other stuff like that.

As the executive had hoped, the chief had lost interest. Ah. IT stuff. I must confess it’s not something I understand really, all them flashing lights and code and stuff. Much more comfortable puttin’ out fires. Anyway, where would you like me to drop off the fire damage report? You’ll need it for the insurance claim.

Scribbling on the back of a business card, the executive replied Um, look we’ll need to find temporary premises to set up in, so why don’t you just send it to my home?

OK. No problem. Me and the boys will be out of your hair directly.

The executive didn’t bother replying. He had a much bigger problem on his mind namely how to tell his boss that all of the company’s research for the past six months had just literally gone up in smoke. Lost. Irretrievably. Along with the only prototype. And it was his fault.

To minimise administrative costs six months ago, he had cancelled the offsite storage contract for data backups, deciding to store them instead in an unused back room at the facility that was now a charred ruin. At the time the ‘cost down’ initiative had won him the prestigious monthly executive effectiveness award. It had seemed like an easy win. But it wasn’t really his fault. The geeks had grudgingly told him they never used printouts anymore as all their stuff was all 'online', whatever that meant. He’d assumed that that the expensive backups were no longer required. No one had questioned or even commented on the decision. Now, too late by far, he suddenly understood the importance of those little tapes. Damn those geeks! Why couldn’t they talk to him in English like normal human beings rather than using their own private code!

The ‘geeks’ he referred to were not working on trash collection at all as he had told the fire chief. Rather, they were working on a top secret portable and submersible x-ray device with wide application in defence, drug enforcement and anti-terrorism. They’d just commenced sea trials of the first prototype. The prototype, along with all schematics, notes, test plans and results were now up in smoke.

Not one to dwell long on mistakes, the executive turned his thoughts towards recovery. He needed a scapegoat, he concluded. That’s how things were done at Allied. All would be overlooked provided a tethered goat was ritually slaughtered to the god of corporate accountability. One of the geeks would do nicely, he'd just need to doctor up a couple of emails.

What the executive didn’t know, because the geeks had chosen not to inform him, was that within a few hours of the fire, they had recovered virtually all of the missing data from their personal cloud private stores. They had agreed amongst themselves, working from home using instant messaging, that whilst strictly forbidden by company security protocols, incidents such as this fire confirmed the value of their ability to think outside the box.

________________________

Is it done? enquired the raspy telephone voice.

Yes came the reply.

Good. Any loose ends?

No.

Seeking more assurance than one-word answers, raspy voice insisted No complications?

There may be one small complication. I am monitoring it.

I don’t pay you to monitor complications. I pay you for uncomplicated solutions.

I am monitoring it. Should it become an impediment, I will remove it at no additional charge.

There can be no link back to me. A statement rather than a question.

Only I know your identity. It is not in my best interests to bite the hand that feeds me.

Very well. I’ll wire the remainder of your fee to your account today. Don’t call me again unless the ‘complication’, as you call it, becomes a problem.

I understand replied the Ghost but he was talking to a dead line. He ran for the ferry that would take him to his next job.

____________________

You assured me this would not happen! seethed Jose Aguilar.

Relax Jose. This is nothing more than a minor aberration. It will be corrected the General replied in a conciliatory tone he didn't feel.

So I am to just sit around while the Yankees impound my ships and confiscate my product?

You are to do whatever I tell you to do, whenever I tell you to do it. Nothing more, nothing less. That is our arrangement. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are irreplaceable Jose. You’re not. I have invested considerable time to provide you with this opportunity. It would be unwise for you to test my generosity.

And don’t you forget General that it is I, and only I so far, who knows what you have done. If that were to be revealed, your country would hound you to the ends of the earth. Do not threaten me General, or you might find that your activities won’t be as invisible as you might wish.

Do not be insubordinate Jose. You know nothing of my plans. As distasteful as dealing with you is for me, the greater good demands our temporary alliance. Do not presume our alliance is one of equals. If your insubordination persists, I shall come down there and rip your goddamn guts out through your nose! the General shouted down a crystal-clear encrypted line.

Surprised by the uncharacteristically passionate response from such a carefully spoken statesman, Jose wisely concluded he had poked the tiger sufficiently.

General let us not quarrel like two children around the campfire over a plate of food. We are both men of stature and influence. There is no need for us to fall out over what is, after all, a minor matter in the scheme of things. If you can compensate me for my lost shipment, we will put all this unpleasantness behind us.

Regaining his composure, the General replied in his signature monotone That is better Jose. You need to chalk this one up to experience. I am told that the DEA now has been deprived of the prototype device used to capture your ship and that further prototypes will not be available to them for some time. Removing this threat when combined with the intelligence we supply exclusively to you, your shipments, and yours alone, will continue reach North American shores undetected.

That is not your concern. As the cat said to the inquisitive mouse, indulging your curiosity further would become unhealthy for you very quickly.

So you now guarantee my ships will be safe?

Patience Jose, patience. All things come to those who wait. You will receive the intelligence in the fullness of time.

General, the nature of my industry does not allow me the luxury of inexhaustible patience. Even I have my masters. They grow impatient already. I need results to show them soon, or despite my best efforts, they will call off our deal and I will lose my head literally.

That would be a grave mistake on their part. You should remind them that I am a good friend but a very, very bad enemy. No one on this earth is beyond my reach. You want to remind your familia of that replied the General ominously.

Yes I understand General. Let us hope it does not come to that responded the drug lord.

There is only one path to success here Jose. All the others lead to your extinction. I’m not exaggerating when I say the survival of the human race is at stake.

Then we must find a way to succeed together General.

The General ended the encrypted call, dismissing