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  Without warning, they stopped. They jumped in the truck and sped off toward the main gate. Vince fell to his knees on the coarse asphalt and threw up. He collapsed on the ground, propped up on one elbow. Blood dripped down his face. The stench of his vomit made him wince as the truck disappeared into the night.

  18

  September 2, 1995

  * * *

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  The sound was thunderous. It pulsed and throbbed throughout Jason’s head, the pain unbearable. Were they explosions? Had he been injured? What nightmarish hell caused him so much pain?

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  There must be a way out. The noise ripped through his skull. He was lying down; he must be hurt. Otherwise, he could get up and run away. If he couldn’t, he knew he would die . . .

  Jason rolled over to glimpse the clock. Five minutes after ten. The thin ray of sunlight pierced between the curtains blinded him. He was alone in his room, he rubbed his head tenuously. It felt like someone drove an ice pick through his skull. The stench of stale beer filled his nostrils, and the nausea returned. His eyes closed to adjust his vision. Jason hurt . . . really, really bad.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  The rap on the door sounded as if someone beat it with a sledgehammer. Jason realized it was probably a normal knock, but his throbbing head told him it was something else. He gingerly swung his feet off the bed and sat up straight and searched for a reason to open the door.

  It must be Kathy. She was here last night, wasn’t she? How did I get home? Did she bring me?

  Blood rushed from his head and brought more pain. He sat there a moment and gathered himself before he tried to stand. His pulse pounded away at his head. Blood cells bounced inside his skull. He had to reach the door. If Kathy were upset with him, he had to straighten it out now. His knees wobbled and for the first time, he realized he still wore his flight suit. Great, he thought, I’ll make a wonderful impression this morning.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  “Just a minute,” Jason said in a restrained yell. His mouth was dry, as if he ate cotton balls all night. Staggering toward the door, he detoured to the fridge and poured Coke in a glass. He made it to the door and grabbed the doorknob. The bright sunlight made him wince and he put his hand over his eyes. Through the glare, he made out a shapely female figure standing before him. He focused on the ground, and as his eyes adapted, he slowly scanned up the trim athletic legs to the short skirt. He paused; he knew those legs, and then looked the figure in the face.

  “Hello, Jason.”

  As the grip loosened on his drink, the glass slid out of his hand, shattered on the floor, and sprayed Coke and shards of glass across the kitchen tile. Neither figure noticed. Jason stared at the face for what seemed like minutes but was only seconds. When he opened his mouth, one word came out.

  “Bethany?”

  THE EARLY MORNING RAYS of the sun illuminated the room, as they shot through the open window. Lenny Banks rolled over and checked the clock. Ten-thirty. He threw the covers back and the large comforter fell to the floor. Without thinking, he rose and headed for the bathroom, his bladder telling him it was morning. The flush of the toilet broke the silence that enveloped the room as he walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen.

  He reached the coffeemaker and pulled out the glass pot. A small remnant of the coffee sat in the bottom. Lenny removed the old filter and grounds and tossed them in to the trash. Once clean, he began brewing his daily coffee.

  Lenny sat on the couch and blew the steam across the top of his coffee. He picked up the remote and switched on CNN as he sipped his morning brew. It was the usual happenings in the world, war in the Middle East, more Defense cuts, some Senator heading to Texas for a NAFTA convention, the dollar fell below the Yen, and most importantly, the Cubs lost a shot at the pennant.

  Lenny left the television running as he refilled his cup. With his second cup of coffee, he sat at his computer. The terminal screen sprang to life in full color and began its programming to initiate his startup software. Today was the day. No more goofing around with the tests, and definitely—no more gambling.

  Today, he would pay Vince for the loan and access the Master Question File for the last time. Today, Lenny would steal every test for the T-37, T-38, and the T-1. Then he would be done. He could start fresh with a new outlook on life. A life he looked forward to living.

  After he clicked his mouse on the Netscape icon, the screen once again whirled with activity as a variety of quick messages flashed across the screen. As soon as the modem accessed the engine he needed, Lenny connected Netscape to the Internet. From there, he logged on to Yahoo, where he entered a chat room with a private code. With the code, he gained access to classified government web pages that could only be reached via military Local Area Networks. He clicked on the line that specified AETC. Soon the screen changed to a series of questions.

  * * *

  Please type in your code number:

  * * *

  3738

  * * *

  Do you wish to activate On-Line or Computer Only?

  * * *

  Computer Only

  * * *

  Do you wish to activate SCRAMBLETEK?

  * * *

  YES

  * * *

  PRESS “ENTER” NOW

  Lenny hit “Enter” and once again, the bells and whistles came to life as the computer answered the modem call, he accessed the Air Force system, and engaged SCRAMBLETEK. The screen filled with thousands upon thousands of symbols as they traversed the screen before it settled on a page. A generic, pale blue background with official navy-blue font filled the screen:

  AIR EDUCATION AND TRAINING COMMAND

  * * *

  SPECIALIZED UNDERGRADUATE PILOT TRAINING TEST BANK

  He scrolled down until he approached the stan/eval test icon, and then selected COPY and TRANSMIT. In a matter of three minutes, he had downloaded every T-37 stan/eval test into his own computer. He moved to the Phase 2 section. Moving the cursor, he went to the “Select All” icon and hit ENTER. The entire screen lit up with every test in the T-38 and T-1 banks. He hit COPY and TRANSMIT and sat back to admire his handiwork.

  The download itself took several minutes. Lenny rose to fix himself a third cup of coffee while the computer did its work. The SCRAMBLETEK program was annoying to monitor while in progress, the screen a constant changing mosaic of digits and symbols. As Lenny took a sip of coffee, the monitor made three loud and unexpected bleeps. His face contorted in horror as his computer crashed right before his eyes. When he placed his coffee cup on the counter top, the screen went blank.

  “Oh, no!”

  Lenny leaped back to his keyboard to try and save what he could. No sooner had he sat down then the terminal came back to life and continued to download.

  “What the hell was that?” He scratched his chin and watched the screen. Everything appeared normal now. Perhaps a power surge in the system. The computer might be running out of memory. No, that wasn’t it. It must have been a surge somewhere in the line.

  Seven minutes later, the system finished downloading the tests to his hard drive, and Lenny opened the file. He was surprised every single test downloaded successfully. The surge must not have affected the download. Pleased with himself, Lenny exited the file and printed out a copy of each test. Turning the computer off, he slipped the tests into a manila envelope. This was slid underneath a second manila envelope filled with Vince’s cash in the center drawer of his desk.

  Lenny decided he would leak the tests to Vince one at a time as opposed to giving him all the tests at once. He liked to be in control and wanted to make that asshole squirm. The next stan/eval test would be this Friday. He would give Vince the test Thursday night. He relished the power the tests gave him. Vince wouldn’t push him around any longer. His new life started today.

  ALMOST FIVE HUNDRED MILES south of Vance Air Force Base, in the headquarters of Air Education and Training Command
at Randolph Air Force Base, a tiny computer worked feverishly. Moments before, test files had been accessed to download. The system that breached the files had a backup to confuse anyone or anything attempting to trace it. It took two minutes for the computer to recognize this backup as the SCRAMBLETEK program. In forty-five seconds, it began to merge with the program, tracing the general location. To find the exact location took a total of ten minutes. At three minutes, the computer beeped three times to indicate the trace was complete, and the system would track the location of the source. Normally, such a process would take about fifteen seconds, but SCRAMBLETEK extended it to two minutes.

  The computer worked rapidly as hundreds of digits raced across the screen. Each number was screened by the system. Four minutes down, one more to go, and the system should pinpoint the exact location of the hacker. Without emotion, the computer raced against the clock, selecting and rejecting numbers. It was a never-ending process. After four minutes forty-two seconds, the system stopped. The access was complete. The tiny computer at Randolph fell silent again in the darkness as an automatic message was sent to the inbox of OSI agent Alonzo Jacobs.

  19

  September 2, 1995

  * * *

  JASON COULDN’T BELIEVE BETHANY showed up at his place. Why was she here now? His hangover embarrassed him. She gave him time to shower and dress, but he could tell Bethany was mad. He’d seen that expression a hundred times before. Why the hell should he care? What was she doing here anyway? Jason said he would meet her at the Garfield Grill at noon.

  He pulled into the parking lot and saw her sitting at a booth next to the window. Her long, strawberry-blond hair flowed down her shoulders. She was out of place in the small country restaurant. Jason felt his heartbeat increase, his palms sweaty. She made him nervous. What was he afraid of? He placed the car in park and turned the ignition off. Grabbing a towel from the back seat, he wiped the perspiration from his forehead. After a couple of deep breaths, he stepped out of the car, and went inside. He never realized lunch with his ex-wife would be so difficult.

  He ignored the hostess and walked straight to Bethany’s table. “Morning,” he said as he slid into the booth.

  Bethany did not appear happy as she forced a smile. “Good afternoon, Jason.”

  Jason glanced at his watch. Twelve-fifteen. The waitress approached the table, and Bethany ordered iced tea and a salad. Jason, his stomach still somewhat unstable, asked for French fries and a large Coke. They sat without speaking for several minutes until the waitress brought their drinks. Jason wasted no time draining his.

  She broke the silence. “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks, Beth.”

  “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  He set his glass on the table. “Sure. How does your new husband feel about you being here?”

  That one made her uncomfortable. Good, she deserved it. He knew her better than anyone; yet he didn’t know her at all. If he didn’t take the offensive at some point, she would dominate him. She would make him feel guilty, even though she was the one who cheated on him.

  “Bethany, how did you get on base?”

  “The car still had a sticker on it.”

  He had forgotten he’d gotten both of their cars a DOD sticker to get on base after his commissioning. And before their divorce.

  “Why are you here?”

  She squirmed in her seat. “I need to talk to you.”

  “But why? Why here, why now?”

  Bethany stared out the window, tears welled in her eyes. He wondered if they were real. She started to answer when their food arrived. Jason asked for another Coke and ignored Bethany while he doused ketchup and pepper on his fries.

  “You always put pepper on everything,” she said.

  “Yep.” He stayed tightlipped. She wanted to talk, so he let her.

  “I miss you, Jason. I miss the times we had together. We were so great as a couple; now we’re apart. I miss you.”

  She sounded serious. The passion in her eyes—all too familiar. She wanted him . . . and he began to want her.

  “I don’t know, Bethany,” Jason said. “We’ve got a lot of damage here, and I think it’s going to take a lot of work to sort it out, if it can be sorted out at all.”

  Bethany smiled at him. She looked beautiful. She smelled wonderful. The softness of her hands showed her delicate nature. Not a working girl, but one who enjoyed being pampered.

  “Jason, you may not be happy with the way things turned out. I understand. There are parts of our relationship I wasn’t happy with either.” Bethany withdrew her hands and laid them gently on the table. The waitress set down a fresh iced tea for her and a Coke for him. Bethany opened two packs of sugar and poured them into her tea.

  “You know,” she said, “the things that went wrong before weren’t necessarily my fault. I understand what I did was not right. I’m not sure why I did it. Sometimes I get so confused. I got angry when all you talked about was your airplanes. You never spent any time with me. Your airplanes were the only thing that mattered in your life. But what about me, Jason? I have a life, too. I wanted to be part of your life. You shut me out.”

  She was convincing. He wanted to believe her, but things happened too quickly. His head throbbed as if it were split open. He was in no condition for this discussion. Sitting here, gazing at her beauty, his brain half-fogged with alcohol, it was easy to remember the fun times, but the face-to-face always reveals peoples’ emotions. Hate from a distance is easy, but personal confrontation was a hard bluff to beat. If any feelings were left, good or bad, they would emerge. Jason sensed a little of both.

  For the first time since he left his dorm room, he thought of Kathy. His feelings for her were real enough. Now his judgement was blurred by this intrusion from the past. He shifted in his seat as he stared out the window. The brightness made him squint and his headache still pounded inside his skull. He massaged his temples as his eyes rolled up inside his head.

  “Jason.”

  He didn’t respond. Not because he had no desire to; his mind was elsewhere.

  “Jason, talk to me,” she said as she reached across the table and shook his arm. He broke out of his reverie and picked up his Coke. He took a long sip and set the glass on the paper coaster.

  “Beth, I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to talk. Maybe later, but not now.”

  Bethany’s eyebrows rose, then she scowled. “Jason Conrad, I cannot believe you. I come all this way to tell you my feelings, and you’re so hungover you can’t carry on a decent conversation.”

  Jason looked at her blankly. “Normally, a comment like that would result in guilt, Bethany. But since I had no idea you were coming here . . .” He shook his head. “No dice.”

  Glaring at Jason, she sat back in her chair with her arms folded. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “Okay, Beth,” he snapped, “how about this? We were married once, now we are not. The fact you cheated on me is enough to never talk to you again. Believe it or not, for some reason, I do want to talk. But you’re married to someone else now. Which means, I have a beautiful, married woman, sitting in front of me, telling me she has feelings for me and wants to make it work between us. The Air Force frowns on that kind of behavior, and if I were to participate in such, I could find myself out on the street looking for a job.”

  “See, it’s still the same. All you ever think about is your airplane. I’m always second.”

  Jason leaned forward and grit his teeth. “Bullcrap—I’m sick of hearing that excuse. You talk about my airplane as if it is some kind of mistress, or someone you could be jealous of. It’s my job. I need a job to pay the bills, Beth. I’m fortunate enough to have a job I enjoy. Not many people wake up every day and look forward to going to work.” Jason grinned at his last remark. He had hated work the last few weeks. Regardless of his struggles, he would rather be flying jets than working in an office somewhere.

  The tears began to well up again, her bright blu
e eyes glistened. His emotions muddled, and his headache refused to go away.

  “Beth, I feel like crap. We’re not going to accomplish anything sitting here.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Why don’t I meet you tonight. We’ll go to dinner and talk then. Okay?”

  She didn’t seem happy with this alternative, but it was all he could offer. They arranged to meet at her hotel, then go to a restaurant for dinner. Jason paid the bill and left her sitting in the booth. Outside, he climbed in the Mustang, fired up the engine, and drove back to the base.

  He needed to let off some steam. The best place to do that was the gym. He parked the car and went inside his room. It resembled a small disaster area. He could fix it later; he needed to sweat out the booze. Changing clothes, he downed two Tylenol with a glass of water and walked to the gym.

  The short walk helped loosen him up and get the blood circulating again. He passed through the basketball court to the weight room. A quick glance revealed five other guys working out, including Vince. Finding an empty corner, he stretched his tired muscles.

  “How’s the hangover, Conrad?”

  Jason eyed Vince suspiciously. He and Vince had hung around each other when they first arrived at UPT. It was two Alpha males sizing up each other. Once Jason began to struggle after the first academic test, Vince drifted off to Lenny.

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Well, I feel like you look.”