Free Fall

Fifty-Five

Clear River, North Dakota

After ending his call with Kate Page, Nick Varner continued looking through his high-powered binoculars at the house at the far end of the sealed residential block.

Robert Cole’s home.

Varner reinserted his earpiece to resume listening to the whispered transmissions of FBI SWAT team members who’d taken up concealed positions near the house. He was shielded by parked emergency vehicles some one hundred yards away, where he was watching the operation.

Deputies from Bowman and Adams counties had already quietly evacuated all residents from neighboring homes that were in the line of fire and choked off all traffic at both ends of the quiet street.

So far, there was no movement or activity reported by SWAT members closest to Cole’s building.

The task force cyber experts had traced the sender of the Zarathustra emails to a physical internet protocol address registered to Robert Cole of Clear River, North Dakota.

Investigators had immediately worked full-bore, putting in long hours without stopping. Further rapid investigation and expedited warrants revealed that Cole was a former engineer with Richlon-Titan who’d helped design its fly-by-wire system. Assistance from Homeland Security confirmed that Robert Cole was a member of the secret team that had worked on Project Overlord, the abandoned program designed to develop the technology known as the Unhindered Autopilot System, which would allow planes hijacked in-flight to be landed safely by remote control.

Robert Cole possessed the expertise to remotely threaten aircraft.

Varner had to give Kate Page credit. Once again she’d proven why he considered her one of the best journalists in the country. The information she’d obtained was solid.

The FBI’s swift investigation of Richlon-Titan officials by agents from the bureau’s Los Angeles division-and with support from the LA County Sheriff-showed that Cole’s employment had been terminated after he’d become unstable following a traffic accident in which his wife was killed. There were indications that Cole harbored a grudge against RT over a disagreement on the flight-management system and that he blamed RT for his wife’s death.

Varner agreed that the facts pointed to Robert Cole as their suspect.

The FBI had acted fast, securing arrest and search warrants for Robert Cole. They’d assembled a large operation, drawing on FBI agents from Williston, Minot and Bismarck. They were supported by FBI SWAT teams from the Salt Lake City and Minneapolis divisions.

The FBI had control of the inner perimeter. They were backed by tactical teams from across North Dakota who held positions at the outer perimeter, where Varner and other task force members waited.

Moments ago, another FBI team had moved on the hangar where Cole worked.

No one had been there.

Technicians from North Dakota’s Bureau of Criminal Investigation Division were processing the hangar for evidence, but nothing significant had emerged so far.

The radio crackled with a dispatch from the command post.

“Heads up. Everyone’s now in position,” the team leader whispered.

“Hold,” the commander said.

Varner dragged the back of his hand across his mouth as he watched through his binoculars.

“Holding,” the team leader responded.

Several tense moments passed, the silence broken by birdsong and the barking of a dog in the distance.

Then…

“Tighten your position!”

Heavily armed tactical members rushed from their covers with weapons drawn, moving quietly from behind trees, parked cars and house corners. One sniper was flat on his stomach on the roof of the house next door, his rifle scope trained on a bedroom window. Another sharpshooter used the hood of an SUV to take a line on a living room window.

Team members crept up to the house, taking positions at the front and rear. They were poised for a no-knock forced rapid entry.

“We’re set,” the team leader reported to the command post.

The SWAT commander nodded and used a megaphone to order Robert Cole to exit the house using the front door with his hands raised, palms showing, and surrender to the FBI.

He repeated the order for two solid minutes.

No one answered.

The commander then green-lighted his squad.

“Go!”

Seconds later the pop-pop and shattering glass sounds of tear gas canisters being fired echoed down the street. White clouds billowed from the main floor, followed by the deafening crack-crack and lightning flashes of stun grenades.

The SWAT team smashed through the front and rear doors.

Their helmet lights raked the acrid fog as they swept the living room and the kitchen. Then they stormed down the hallway then upstairs. Bedroom number one: empty. Bedroom number two: empty. The bathroom was empty. Closets: empty. The ceiling, floors and walls were tapped for body mass.

Empty.

On the main floor, team members completed the same inspection of all rooms and potential hiding places. The house was inspected three times before it was cleared and declared safe.

Once the air cleared, Varner was allowed into the scene in advance of the evidence response team.

He’d slipped on shoe covers, pulled on gloves, then stepped inside, coughing at the biting, ammonia-like traces of the tear gas. First, he moved from room to room, taking stock of Cole’s home. It was plain, orderly and clean, except for the dining room.

What happened here? Looks like a couple of file cabinets exploded.

Layers of papers, files, reports, manuals and schematic drawings blanketed the table and the desk next to it.

Varner studied the material.

All of it related to Richlon-Titan’s fly-by-wire system.

Varner picked up printouts of Kate Page’s stories.

Paragraphs were highlighted, including excerpts of the Zarathustra email.

Varner swallowed hard.

We’ve got to find Robert Cole, now!

Then his eyes narrowed on a manuscript and the title page.

The author was Veyda Hyde.

Varner turned the cover to the first page with a gloved finger. At the top was a reference to Friedrich Nietzsche and Zarathustra. Varner blinked and flipped back to the title page.

Veyda Hyde.

Who’s that?