Free Fall

Forty-Seven

Manhattan, New York

The infectious rhythm of Peruvian music kept time with the slap of skipping rope in Washington Square Park where Grace jumped double Dutch with street performers near the fountain.

As the music and ropes went faster, Kate and Vanessa cheered Grace on from a bench nearby. She kept pace until a misstep entangled her in the ropes, but the performers invited her to try again and as they resumed, Kate checked her phone.

It was Saturday, the day after Kate’s story on Zarathustra had run. Kate and Vanessa both had days off. They’d taken Grace shopping in Greenwich Village before coming to the park.

But Kate’s mind was on the response to her story-Will it lead us to Zarathustra and the validity of the claim of hijacking jetliners?

She hadn’t dismissed Zarathustra’s threat to her family, implied in the “we know where you live” line. While they no longer had Agent Hank Bradley staying with them, Kate and Vanessa were vigilant, keeping an eye on Grace and the nearest cop.

Everything was fine, under the circumstances.

On the response, Newslead had, so far, received about twenty emails or calls from readers offering advice. One reader offered her services as a “spiritual guide.” Some callers had claimed to know Zarathustra, but then provided vague or useless information. I think it’s the cabdriver I had once, he was always quoting Nietzsche. Or It’s a guy I met in a bar. He was talking about how we need to take down the government.

Those were the responses for Kate.

As for the FBI, Varner had told her that in two instances, callers had claimed to be Zarathustra but had been unable to provide accurate information on the unpublished content of the email.

Kate was preparing to send Erich a message when Grace finished skipping. Kate gave her a five-dollar bill to drop in the performers’ hat.

“Let’s get a drink.” Vanessa pointed to the nearest hot dog cart.

As they sipped their sodas on the grass in the shade of a maple tree, Kate’s phone rang.

“Hi, Kate. It’s Todd,” the news assistant said. “I know you’re off, but Chuck said to alert you if a reader called with something important.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I got this guy on the line. It’s the third time he’s called in an hour. He insists on talking to you directly, says he’s got information that he wants to share with you.”

“What kind of information?”

“He wouldn’t say, only that it was critical.”

“Did he give you his name, or his connection to the story?”

“No, nothing, and he refused to leave a message.”

“Did he sound credible, or certifiable, Todd?”

“Hard to tell.”

“Yeah, that’s often the case. Okay, put him through.”

“I’ll connect him to you. Hang on.”

While she waited, Kate turned to Grace and Vanessa.

“I have to take this. I’m sorry. Think about where we could go for lunch later.”

Kate stood and walked a few feet away when her phone clicked.

“Hello?” a man said. “Is this Kate Page?”

“Yes.”

“I saw you on CTNB with Reese Baker talking about the president’s promise of technology to land passenger jets by remote control.”

“Yes. First can I get your name?”

Silence.

The caller ID displayed the newsroom switchboard number because the call was bounced to Kate’s phone.

“I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I don’t want to say right now. First, I need to know if you protect sources.”

“Yes, we do. I understand you have information?”

“On CTNB, you discussed the technology and debated its existence and use in the wake of 9/11?”

“Right.”

“Are you aware of Project Overlord?”

“No. Hold on a sec.” Kate muted her phone and got Vanessa to search Project Overlord. It came up as some sort of video game. Kate rolled her eyes. “Is it something to do with video game programs?”

“No. It’s a top secret government project to develop the technology to land hijacked commercial jets by remote control. Overlord is what the president promised.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Listen, I was not, and am not, involved, okay?”

The way his voice grew nervous caused a shift in Kate’s attitude.

“Involved in what?”

“Overlord.”

“Okay.”

“I was a contractor for various national security projects. I have a lot of friends in the business.”

“Would one be named Erich?”

“No.”

“How about Viper?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You say you were a contractor on national security projects. What’re you doing now?”

“Now? Let’s say I’m something of an underground activist.”

“Activist for what?”

“Letting the public know the truth about what its government is up to. With Overlord, the government worked with defense and airline experts to develop the technology to land troubled planes safely by remote control. It was called the Unhindered Autopilot System.”

“We said on the show that the technology exists, that patents were obtained to develop it.”

“You barely scratched the surface. Overlord was developed, but abandoned after the government feared it was leaked or stolen.”

“You mean it’s out there?”

“That’s the fear.”

“Then why haven’t we heard more about this?”

“They don’t want the public to know. It would destroy the airline industry and cripple the global economy.”

Kate took a moment.

“I’m sorry but this is too fantastic to believe.”

“I have documentation.”

Kate caught her breath.

“Okay, send it to me and let me take a look at it.”

“No. I’ll give it to you only in person, if you agree to meet me.”

“Are you in New York City?”

“No. California.”

“Are you coming to New York?”

“No. You’d have to come here.”

“To California? Look, I can’t go to California based on your claim.”

“Give me an email.”

“What?”

“Give me an email. I’ll send you a sample and you’ll see. It’s classified documentation I received from my sources, part of a file I’ve been assembling.”

Kate gave him an email, a safe one that protected against viruses and malware. Twenty seconds later, her phone chimed, and she was reading a page on Homeland Security letterhead stamped Top Secret. It was less than a year old and had the grainy look of a document that had been photocopied several times. The subject headline was Project Overlord: Security Breach Concern.

Much of the content was redacted, blacked out, except the headline Project Chiefs. Some two dozen names and their affiliations were listed under it. Each name and affiliation was redacted. However, initials were penned next to some. Kate read: AU, JF, KS, RC, RM, SK, TH.

She got back on the line with her caller.

“How can I tell if this is a legitimate document? Besides, with so much blacked out, I’m not even sure what it says.”

“It’s real. I swear it’s real. Little by little I’ve been getting leads on the names of the team members. I think one of them was suspected of a security breach and that person is your Zarathustra.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’ve been connecting the dots. That’s what I do. And I heard through the grapevine that one of the experts had a family tragedy and became unstable. I have no idea which one. There are twenty-four. But I’m thinking that it’s possible whichever one it was may be using the technology to exact some revenge for the project being canceled or something.”

“That’s a heck of a leap there.”

“I know, but I’ve been working on this and watching your reports and I’m convinced this is your smoking gun. The incidents with the Shikra and EastCloud flights are the evidence. If you agree to meet me in person, I’ll give you all the documents, the information, some of the names I have, everything.”

“Why not go to the FBI or the FAA, or NTSB?”

“I’d be charged with possessing confidential national security documents. You, being the press, are protected by shield laws.”

Kate looked over at her daughter and sister.

“Okay, I have to go. Let me think about this and talk it over with my editors. Give me a number to call you.”

“No, I’ll call you.”

“I need a number from you.”

“I can’t do that. I’ll call your news desk and I’ll use the name Malcolm Grady. Tell them to put me through to you.”

“Okay, very clandestine, like the movies.”

“Yeah,” he said nervously. “Like the movies.”

Kate hung up and stared at nothing until she felt a tug at her arm.

“Mom?” Grace was loud.

“Yes, sweetie.”

“I said can we go to the Shake Shack?”