Flower Girl: A Burton Family Mystery (9 page)

"You remember that after your graduation from UC-Berkeley, I began building the workshop in the basement!" Reddy said, adding, "Would you like to see what I've been building ten feet below where you live?"

By then my curiosity about what he was doing in my basement was hitting a twelve on a 10-point scale.

 He showed me a laptop that was unspectacular to say the least. At least in appearance. Then he held a tiny insect like object in the palm of his hand.

"What's is it?"

"It's a nano-tech/neuro-robotic wasp drone."

"It does look like a wasp, a miniature mechanical wasp."

Then he told me the history behind and the details about what he was building in my basement.

"It's a sniper weapon that operates much like a miniature drone aircraft."

"This is a prototype of a design I started while between assignments at the Virginia labs located underground at CIA HQ. I designed, built, tested, and liberated it, before it could be put to even more evil uses than what I hoped to use it for. All this weapon needs for a target is an infrared signature or image on a computer screen which could be as far as one to two kilometers away and I hope to increase that range.

"This means the target can be zeroed in whether it's day or night. The computer guidance controls are contained in this lightweight titanium alloy briefcase. The wasp is armed by punching in 911 on the briefcase lock. If the wrong person presses any number after this, the hard drive and the rest of the insides turn to ash in seconds without a sound and with no noticeable outer damage to the casing."

"If all this is your own design why is the CIA after it?" I asked.

"To their way of thinking I stole it; however, I don't see it as theft. One day, a few months ago, I hid the briefcase in the security truck as it made its regularly scheduled departure from HQ to the maintenance yards for a three-month checkup."

"Sounds like theft to me."

"How could I steal something I alone created in my spare time, even if the CIA provided some of the technical equipment needed to create it. Besides, I was concerned about collateral damage."

"Collateral damage?"

"Yes, collateral damage." Reddy replied, adding, "For the most part, when a government sanctions an assassination, they try to limit collateral damage. However, it has been my experience that the assassin can't fully eliminate hurting or killing innocent people even though the target or targets are very specific."

He looked at me with his steely grey eyes as if peering into my soul before he told me why he is building the perfect sniper weapon.

 "What I have shown you is an almost perfect sniper weapon. Only two people within the CIA even know that it exists. It is essentially a miniature drone, so tiny that it contains only enough explosive to kill a single target. In short, no chance for collateral damage if the assassin is accurate. Plans for the next prototype include a headset that links a chip in the shooter's brain to the wasp projectile and actually tracks it to the target as the shooter watches the target on the laptop screen.

"I call her Michaela, as the female for Michael, the Christian archangel of death, a good angel."

"I destroyed all the design specs as work progressed, but they remain stored in my memory." He said, while tapping his temple with a finger.

I recalled how my own memory frequently haunted me, wondering if his remarkable memory sometimes haunted him as he sought to forget the horrors of his past, most of which he never spoke of to me.

"I get it, cut off your funds and shut down your entrepreneurial spirit and the CIA becomes the only party to deal with for Michaela," I replied.

"Smart girl," Reddy said. "You catch on quick. Can you help me with the encryption or not?"

"No problem. Things are slow at the lab."

 

 

 

PART II: BURTON'S FAMILY BUSINESS: A START-UP 

Chapter 5: Summer 3 at Skeleton Lake

After hearing Dalisay's story, Reddy disappeared again. Hell, I thought, I am starting to adjust to having him around, if one can ever adjust to having an assassin living in one's basement while he builds a deadly weapon. At least I now know about his second family. I have a sister, Dalisay, and I know who Michaela is, I mean what.

A week later, Reddy materialized from the basement and asked, "Can each of you get the next six weeks off for some time at Skeleton Lake?"

"My boss at the lab is getting used to my frequent absences. I'll be ready to go in a week," I said. “Besides, it's nearly summer and time to reunite the Bear family at the lake."

"Burton's Family Business," he mumbled, before disappearing into his subterranean workshop, adding, "I like the sound of that name."

 “Summer at the lake, Bear family, Burton family, rigorous sniper training -  sounds like fun," I said.

Dalisay shrugged. I imagined her thoughts were on setting up a new clinic in Oakland. The owner of the warehouse she had her eye on had okayed the lease, and she had already set up a dozen beds and hired most of her staff, including security and kitchen. This girl is a genuine entrepreneur.

Later that day, Sara-Clare called from Panama, "Tell Reddy I'm sorry but I won't be able to join you all at Skeleton Lake this summer as that's the only time available for me to finish work on part two of my child brides documentary. I'm looking forward to seeing Dalisay's new Oakland Clinic. See you all in Berkeley after I wrap up this documentary."

Two days later, Reddy reappeared. I told him Sara-Clare would not be joining us for a month at the lake. I could tell by the hang-dog look that remained on his face for the rest of the day that he was disappointed. I, the evil and selfish daughter, was delighted. I was already going to share Reddy with Dalisay. That was enough.

I found myself looking forward to our family bonding and to a private course in sniper skills, from shooting to disguises. By summer's end, my third summer of intensive training, I should be able to hit the bottle targets at 1,000 yards with Reddy's sniper-scoped 762mm rifle. I had graduated from the 223 which Dalisay now trained on. Michaela was still being tweaked. Reddy said she wasn't ready for real targets until the potential for collateral damage was eliminated. He also said something about the battery not being tiny enough.

Burton's Family Business is taking shape; Dalisay is making preliminary preparations to start up a clinic for abused girls on the waterfront in Oakland near the old Navy yards. She has already set up temporary quarters for a dozen young women. One day she asked: "Guess who signed in as my third resident at the clinic?"

Reddy replied, “Penelope, the girl Critter Purcell kidnapped and enslaved, and plans on making her his child bride."

"You're no fun at all," Dalisay responded with a sour look on her face.

"I've been tracking Critter ever since he escaped from the cabin at Skeleton Lake last summer. I sent Penelope to New Orleans for a few months. When I called her about her situation with Critter recently, she said she'd like to come back to the Bay Area. I suggested your new clinic."

“Having found the right people and an affordable waterfront location for the clinic, I can afford to spend two months at the lake while they settle in; besides, I want to get to know you both," Dalisay said. "We can make my Clinic for Girls a Burton's Family Business subsidiary. I'm all in!"

"You must get the poker channel down in Saba," I said.

While Dalisay was busy getting things started at her clinic, Reddy returned home for who knows how long this time. Then I remembered that we have three one-way tickets on NW Air to St. Louis and arrangements for two dogs. That means he's here for the remaining two days before we depart.

Reddy caught me in the kitchen with only my shorts on after my morning run with Shy and Comet. Angie was off somewhere with her new beau Clemson Rapier. “Put a shirt on, I have a job for you, a key role in Burton's Family Business. You did such a great job on the encryption of my savings accounts that I want to appoint you as keeper of the BFB financial records. When can you get started?"

Reddy didn't keep a diary or anything that might incriminate him if he were ever interrogated by the CIA or anyone else. He had always entrusted every important detail to his eidetic memory. Ultimately, I discovered he had nearly 3 million Euros stashed in the Caymans and another 2.5 million Euros in Swiss bank accounts under five separate names and disguises listed as partners from various nations. My first thought when I tallied up his net assets was a simple wow! Then I did the math. At €300,000 per target, Reddy had eleven hits. That's frightening.

While I was doing the books, Reddy reappeared like a ghost from the basement and I asked, "Want an espresso?"

"Please!"

 Okay, so he may have eleven hits. I didn't really know all the details of Reddy's background and life before or during his military years. There were gaps I couldn't account for with these records. The same was true of the twelve years since he rescued me and stashed me at the Bush School and RVU and UC-Berkeley. But what I was coming to accept was that he was my father. I only recently came to this conclusion, after a great deal of soul searching in the years following the day I first met him when he ripped me away from Cheju-do Island. From that day forward my life had been about two things. First, finding out all I could about this lethal but gentle and soft spoken man. Second, finding out that I had a capacity for some of the same things Reddy did. I wanted to understand where I was going with these skills and abilities. I told Matte that sometimes I am euphoric and other times I am frightened by what I may yet do.

As I reviewed and then encrypted Reddy's financial records, I noticed that his bank accounts were an interesting look into his priorities. I noticed how carefully he recorded my university expenses and how little he spent on himself. Hell, he didn't even own a car, and I won't reveal what I think about his wardrobe. When he last needed a car, he leased it. One big exception was the Pilatus PC12; however, I know how much he loves flying and he is constantly on the move. However, a two million dollar aircraft?

Summer three would not be entirely a vacation and Bear family reunion. Reddy used  the freelance contract applications that came by e-mail to his michaela.com account to teach Dalisay and me about the business, and he illustrated Reddy's Rules as he taught us how to select and reject applicants. My rescue, capturing Critter, locating the Greys' secret lab, assisting with the taenite for Project MagNet, locating Dalisay Burton, and several cases he rejected were also highlighted in his lessons.

Skeleton Lake (July- August, 2013): Craft and Matte were off to Europe together for most of the summer, leaving the Burtons and of course the Bear family with the Skeleton Lake cabin all to ourselves. Rhyly Raincrow headed up the archaeological dig in Moosonee for a second year, and Laz joined her. They planned to drop by the lake at summer's end, on their flight back to River View.

Reddy, Dalisay, Shy and Comet, and I flew commercial to St. Louis-Lambert Field where Sarge met us with the now pontoon equipped Pilatus PC12. On our way home to Berkeley Sarge would uninstall the pontoons as we wouldn't need them for the coming year. We intended to fly the PC12 back to Oakland at summer's end. Professor Craft left the key to his home on the river with Ms. Clemmie at the Track, so we could stay there for a few days to give the Bear family a chance to get reacquainted before flying to Skeleton Lake.

       Once we got to the Lake, we practiced sniper skills every morning, after our run around the lake with the dogs. During our first week, we spent a lot of time getting the dogs back home. They found so many animal trails and scents to follow that they scattered and went quite a distance. The neighbors seemed to get a real kick out of my whistle. I thought it worked pretty well for recalling them; however, most times mother KC found them and nipped at their heels as they made their way back to the cabin after being gone for less than an hour. By summer's end I almost stopped worrying.

We still needed a mission and clients to start-up our family business. We practiced on and discussed a number of Reddy's recent cases since he went off the reservation, with an emphasis on learning Reddy's rules. Almost every evening as the sun set over the lake, we discussed then accepted or rejected a case as it either met or violated Reddy's rules on who deserved killing, revenge as a motive, proximity of the target to home, getting paid and risk, and no partners.

While Reddy told us about these cases and use of his rules, he tested our skills at keeping confidentiality and client selection. For example, Rule #4-get paid up front. This meant, do a thorough check on clients, including trustworthiness, risk assessment, and likelihood of payment.

"Talk about your risk factors," Reddy said. "Rule # 4 can also be alternatively worded: Never do business with or for anyone who can be traced back to you."

It turned out that Dalisay had superior vision like all Burtons, and she quickly mastered Reddy's 223 sniper rifle. Family genetics could be useful,  I thought. I had to admit that at twenty, she was way ahead of where I was at the same age when it came to survival skills and instincts. However, I was the better shooter. She still had much to learn about stealth and tracking, but her life experience had given her a fantastic sense of positive paranoia. She always looked up and down as well as 360 degrees when trekking through the forest or the streets. Reddy called this six direction recon, awareness training.

"Whether driving, walking, or just hanging around," Reddy instructed, "in this business, you always need to have your head and mind on a swivel. Not one that only does a 360 degree circle, but one that tilts up and down. Big brother is watching all the time, satellites in the heavens, and cameras at intersections and at ATM's, and more business and home security systems than you can count. You only have to look up from time to time to know that someone is watching you.

"North, south, east, west, zenith and nadir are the six directions. Native Americans, Celts, and many civilizations practiced oneness with the heavens and with the core of earth as well as the four winds. My experience has taught me that most creatures, whether hunter or pursued, do a pretty good job of looking to both sides, and glancing to the side and rear. However, humans rarely look up to see if a hawk is diving down on them," Reddy stated.

"I know what you mean," I said. "Whenever I watch a Spenser TV show or a scary movie, I always expect Hawk to shout at the heroine to look up or look behind for the villain."

Reddy replied, "I have always thought that in those instances, the writers are merely using the heroine's narrow vision as a writer's tool for creating anxiety in the reader's mind."

"You're so right. It does seem a bit phony; however, I really enjoy the late Robert Parker's protagonist, Spenser and his sidekick Hawk as well as his loyalty to his main squeeze Susan, and who can forget Pearl."

"You and Dalisay need to watch less TV and pay attention to the dogs when you all are running on the trails around the lake and in the woods each morning and you will see that they watch out for things from above as well as behind."

The dogs also sniff the ground and stick their noses in just about any hole or pile of poop they can find.

"You can use the poop if you want to; however, as a sniper, I have often used camouflage and even dug a trench or a hole a few times, so that I can come up from under or behind a target," Reddy said. "Practicing is the only way to hone your instincts for this. It does not come by merely knowing about it."

"Okay, six directions instincts are critical," I said. Dalisay nodded agreement.

Most evenings we sat on the dock watching Mother Nature work her marvels on a sunset that would challenge any artist's pallet, slowly changing into a black canopy to reveal millions of lights. The Bear family formed a protective collar of brown, black, and white fur around us, their ears perking up at the mournful howls of the wolves as night enveloped us and the moon made its ever changing appearance.

Reddy shared his philosophy and guiding principles for selecting clients. "Before you take on an assignment, you need to know the details of the case and they need to come from a reliable source," Reddy said. He was sitting on the dock, sipping an espresso and using his laptop to check his e-mail. He typed in the security codes and clicked on the encryption software that Chip Moriga had developed for him.

Chip was born in Kericho, in the tea region of western Kenya near Lake Victoria. He was a rail thin long distance runner who once finished 4th in the Chicago Marathon. He was educated at Cambridge before moving to Boston and MIT for graduate studies in hi-tech communications. He became a US citizen five years ago and was hired by the CIA.

"The dude is incredible when it comes to encryption and decoding. By constantly changing the codes and the encryption language, he has created a virtually unbreakable set up for me to make contact with his potential clients," Reddy told us. He is family in Reddy's eyes, and he soon becomes a candidate for employment by Burton's family business. Reddy trusts Chip to the point that Chip served as the first filter in selection of clients. If the candidate didn't get past Chip, Reddy never heard about them. Chip does a deep security check on each potential client before passing a coded message to Reddy on michaela.com.

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