Whack Job by Mike Baron Page A

the country, thank you. Lon, will you show him the ropes?”
    ***

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    “Beads of Sweat”
    Wednesday morning.
    Barnett took Otto to a low-ceilinged well-lit room with a half dozen agents at desks. An old-fashioned bulletin board on the wall was crammed with notices including the Ten Most Wanted . There was also a list for the Ten Most Wanted Hackers . Otto did a double take before he realized it wasn’t his photo on the page. A trim little man with a hair-line mustache took Otto’s photograph against a white background and presented him with a laminated FBI ID card.
    Barnett used a magnetic key to unlock the stairwell door. They went down two floors to communications and logistics. In an open office area Barnett led Otto and Steve toward three agents leaning against desks shooting the breeze. The agents turned to face them as they approached.
    “Bob, Mel, Gus, this is Otto White, the agent in charge of the Darling investigation.”
    They shook hands. The men petted the dog. Gus Alvarez was a slight, balding man with rimless glasses, red suspenders and pale skin. He fell in behind Otto and Barnett as the latter led them out of the room, down the hall, to an office Barnett unlocked with a key card.
    Barnett handed the key card to Otto. “This is your office. Gus is your tech support. Anything you need.”
    The windowless office contained a desk with two computers, a printer, a shredder, and a two-year-old Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar on the wall. Fluorescent lights in a long hooded fixture cast cool light. The floor was a colorless rug with a couple telltale cigarette burns. A six pack of bottled water in a plastic yoke rested on the desk.
    “I’ve loaded everything pertaining to the investigation into your computer,” Alvarez said. “Under documents, the titles are self-explanatory.”
    He wrinkled his nose. “Jesus God.”
    “Steve’s a little flatulent.”
    Alvarez pulled out his wallet and handed Otto his card. “Anything you need call me. You want a laptop?”
    “Sure. Steve needs water.”
    “I’ll take care of it. I suggest you start by watching the videos. The first is Alan Froines, a senior partner of Atkins, Alley, and Ross with offices on Bedford Street and in Albuquerque. As you know, Atkins, Alley and Ross include Glass Systems among their clients. Glass Systems is a major defense contractor. This video was taken from a surveillance camera in the firm’s underground parking lot in Albuquerque.
    “The second is Cap and Trade lobbyist Jody Albrecht (Green Future, LLC,) taken at Harrah’s Casino in Reno, NV. The quality of the tapes is radically different. The Albuquerque tape was taken with old technology. The Harrah’s tape was taken with the new Pelco, which use three exposures with different light values, refined for depth and shadow, and gives a very clear record of what occurred. I have to warn you that the videos are upsetting.
    “You will find all the victims under VICTIMS. Each has a link to his file.”
    Otto sat at the desk. Steve curled up at his feet. “No women?”
    “None of whom we know. It’s just another odd wrinkle. We’re baffled. That’s why they’re paying you the big bucks.”
    Riiight,” Otto said tapping the control key. The monitor sprang to life with the home page of the FBI. Two rows of icons marched vertically on the left in military ranks. Short cuts to VICAP, NCIC, and the Terrorist Watch List. The two videos had their own icons: Froines and Albrecht.
    “You need me I’ll be right down the hall,” Alvarez said. “I’ll get your dog some water.”
    “Thanks, Gus.”
    Alvarez left shutting the door behind him. Otto was alone in the belly of the FBI, the only sound a faint hum from the hard-drive, a fluorescent buzz and Steve’s ragged breath. Otto brought up the list of victims. Sixteen of these were confirmed instances of spontaneous human combustion. Seventeen were speculative. Most of the speculatives had occurred overseas. Sen.