“Martindale is starting to creep me out, Dad,” Brad said. “He’s like a cross between a greasy politician and a generalissimo.”
“He’s the kind of guy who thinks outside the box and gets the job done—the ends always justifies the means with him,” Patrick said. “As U.S. vice president, Martindale was the driving force behind using experimental high-tech planes and weapons being developed at the secret test sites at Dreamland and other places in what he called ‘operational test flights,’ and as U.S. president, he created the Intelligence Support Agency that covertly supported the CIA and other agencies in operations all around the world, including within the United States.”
“Again, Dad, it sounds totally illegal.”
“Nowadays, perhaps,” Patrick responded. “During the Cold War, the politicians and commanders were looking for ways to accomplish the mission without violating the law or the Constitution. The law prohibited the CIA from operating within the U.S., but civilian surveillance and intelligence support groups were not illegal. Their definition, identity, and purpose were kept purposefully hazy.”
“So what do you want to do, Dad?” Brad asked.
“I’ve been given something I could never repay: the gift of life,” Patrick said. “I owe something to President Martindale for giving me that gift. I’m not saying I’m going to be his hired gun from now on, but I’m willing to follow this path to see where it leads me.” Brad had a very concerned expression on his face. “Let’s change the subject. One of the things I monitor every day is you, at least your digital life, which these days is pretty extensive. I can access your social media sites, and I can access some of the security cameras on campus as well as the security cameras in your house and out at the airport in the aircraft hangar. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. You haven’t done much flying or much of anything else except school stuff. Busy with the Starfire project, I see.”
“We pitched it to Dr. Nukaga this afternoon,” Brad said. It was good to see him brighten up as he started talking about school, Patrick thought. “As long as I didn’t put the idea in his head that it’s secretly a military project, which it’s not, I think we have a good shot. One of our team leaders, Jung-bae Kim, gets along really well with Nukaga. He might be our ace in the hole.”
“Your entire team is pretty remarkable,” Patrick said. “Lane Eagan’s parents are world-class researchers, and he’s probably smarter than both of them put together. Jodie Cavendish was a superstar high school science student in Australia. She’s received a dozen patents before she’s finished her first year of college.”
Brad’s face fell once again. “I guess you have a lot of time to surf the Internet, don’t you, Dad?” he remarked in a quiet, sad tone.
This time, Patrick unplugged himself, went over to his son, put his armored arms around him, and held him. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or pity me, Brad,” he said after several long moments. He went back to his spot, plugged himself in, then stood up straight and froze. “Please don’t. As I said, I feel very connected to you because I can watch you and check up on you online. I’ve even tweeted you a couple times.”
Like a flashbulb going off, Brad’s face illuminated in astonishment. “You have? Who are you? What’s your Twitter name?”
“I don’t have one. I’m invisible.”
“Invisible?”
“Not visible to a user or to other visitors.” Brad looked skeptical. “I have the ability to monitor anyone’s accounts on social media sites without ‘friending,’ Brad. A lot of government agencies and even companies have the ability. I search posts for key words, and I leave messages for you. Sometimes it’s just a ‘like’ or one or two words. I just like keeping tabs on you. I’m content to just watch and read.”
Despite his son’s initial unease at the thought of unknown persons, companies, or government agencies having access to his social media posts, Patrick thought that this was the happiest Brad looked since he emerged from the Sherpa. “You know something, Dad? I’ve always had the feeling, not very strong but just kind of deep down in the back of my head, that you were watching me. I thought it was a religious or spiritual thing, like it was your ghost or you were up in heaven or something. I think that of Mom too.”
“You were right. I was watching you . . . even digitally speaking with you. And I think Mom does watch over us too.”
“Damn. Trust your feelings, I guess,” Brad said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Let’s talk about Cal Poly.”
“I’ve got to go back, Dad,” Brad said. “I am going back. Starfire is too big of a deal. If you’ve been looking in on me, you know how big it is.”