Shards of Reality by Alex Siegel

Author:Alex Siegel
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2015-06-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Golovkin's laser printer had been working nonstop for the last hour. It had chewed through two reams of blank paper and a toner cartridge, and it was still going.

We have a lot of reading to do, Andrew thought wistfully.

The hacker was printing every document he could find regarding the Fowler Federal Penitentiary. He had dug up enough blueprints to build a perfect duplicate of the prison from scratch. He had background information about all the key employees. He had even discovered detailed specifications of the security system which included a complete wiring diagram.

Finally, Tonya said, "That's enough. Let's move on. We're looking for a guy named Frank Webster. He was the director of the Bureau of Physical Investigation, but we now believe he's working with the FBI. Find him."

Golovkin typed on his ergonomic keyboard. Tonya was still controlling him, and Andrew was backing her up. Golovkin was as helpless as a newborn.

After a few minutes, he said, "I found his FBI file, but it doesn't have much in it. Just basic personal information."

"There must be some notes about his current assignment," Andrew said.

"He's listed as a consultant on something called project 'Ulysses.' It's an investigation into sorcery, whatever that means. Must be a code word. They can't be talking about real magic. Unless..."

Golovkin looked at Tonya with wide eyes. A mind-control victim was usually aware of the spell at some level. He certainly knew she was doing something nasty to him.

"Focus on your task," she said. "Find Frank Webster." She compelled him with a burst of sorcery.

He turned back to his computer and typed some more. "I have the address of his apartment."

"He's smart enough not to go back there. We need information which is more current."

After some more work, he said, "I'm not finding anything."

"What about his cell phone?"

"He cancelled it a week ago. No other contact information is provided."

"Hotel charges?" Tonya said. "Travel expenses?"

Golovkin shook his head.

"Who is he working with at the FBI?" Andrew said.

"I should be able to get that." Golovkin typed for a minute. "Special Agent Jack Purvis. I have his home address."

Andrew smiled. "Richard!" he sent telepathically. "Are you out there?"

"Yes," Richard replied. "You don't have to yell."

"We have information for you. Webster's partner is a guy named Jack Purvis." Andrew had Golovkin write down the address, and Andrew relayed it to Richard.

"I was just getting settled for the night," Richard sent, "but I suppose duty calls. I'm on my way. I'll have to switch cars in the middle again. What a pain."

"And we found out they're holding Charley in a Texas prison. We have all the info."

"Sounds like we're making progress on several fronts. Good luck in Texas. Be careful and keep a low profile."

"We will," Andrew sent. He looked at Tonya and spoke out loud, "Are we done?"

She hefted the thick stack of printouts. "I think so. We're driving to Texas so we'll have plenty of time to read this mess and make plans. Airplanes are too picky about identification."

He nodded. He would try to get some sleep in the car.

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