They hadn’t succeeded in holding the press at bay for long. The crime had become fodder for armchair detectives and media pundits around the world due to Brinkley’s fame. Wu recalled the story playing out for several weeks before fading from public awareness.
“The wife, Sylvia Brinkley, and their teenage daughter, Megan, were abducted in a parking garage at a shopping mall,” Hargrave continued. “From what we could tell, it looked like people had been following them and found an opportunity to snatch and stuff them into a waiting van.”
Wu stopped pacing when a minor but critical detail came back to him. “A van in a parking garage, right?”
Hargrave met his gaze. “Seems like more than mere coincidence that we’re dealing with some of the same elements now.”
“This has to mean something,” Patel said. “What happened next?”
Hargrave’s expression darkened. “Brinkley wired ten million to an offshore account listed in the note.”
Johnson put her fingertips to her lips. “But the demand was for double that amount.”
“He acted against our instructions,” Hargrave sighed. “Brinkley reasoned that he should give them half up front and half when the two were safely returned. Otherwise they would have no reason to let them go at all.”
“That didn’t work out well,” Wu said.
“No, it did not,” Hargrave agreed. “The kidnappers must have assumed Brinkley would not complete the transaction if they gave up their hostages, which is what we told him they would think.” He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Brinkley received an email with a picture of his wife with what the forensic analysts estimated to be a nine-millimeter bullet hole in the center of her forehead and the back of her head blown out,” he went on. “She was clearly dead.”
“That’s when the story leaked,” Wu said. “I remember national headlines about her murder.”
“Everything became monumentally more challenging after that,” Hargrave said. “The kidnappers reiterated their demand for another ten million to release the daughter.”
“This time he paid, right?” Johnson said through fingers still resting against her lips.
“He wired the funds immediately. We tried everything we could to track down the money transfers, which went through several financial institutions, but some of the countries involved did not have agreements with US law enforcement at the time, and we couldn’t follow the trail all the way to the end.”
“No back channels?” Wu asked. “Unofficial ones?”
“Not this time,” Hargrave said. “We even tried to electronically tag the deposit, but it didn’t last through multiple transfers. We interviewed people in the banking industry in the various countries involved, but everyone we dealt with was either well paid or thoroughly scared into silence. Even off the record.”
“You told us the girl was released,” Patel said. “Was she okay?”
“She walked into a convenience store in Santa Clara about an hour after the money was sent,” Hargrave said. “She was disoriented. Told us she had been dropped off at a nearby corner by some men in a van. Her captors had covered her head in a pillowcase during the drive.”
“Did she describe them?” Wu asked.
“They wore masks whenever they dealt with her while she was in their custody,” Hargrave said. “She could only say they were males with average builds and no distinguishing accents. Based on her statement, about a dozen men were involved.”
“What did Brinkley do?” Johnson asked.
“He was furious with us,” Hargrave said. “Blamed the Bureau for getting his wife killed, because we didn’t find the kidnappers and rescue them right away.” He shook his head. “I get that he was distraught, and that he’s a business mogul used to doing things his way and thinking he’s the smartest person in the room, but this was our area of expertise. When he sent the final payment, he didn’t even tell us before he did it. We had planned additional tracking technology for the transfer, but he told us after the fact that he’d been worried they would find out and kill his daughter too.”
“What about the investigation into the abduction after the daughter was returned?” Wu asked.
“We did extensive testing on the daughter’s clothing and skin,” Hargrave said. “Took her through the story multiple times, looking for the tiniest detail. But every lead petered out.”
“How did Brinkley react?” Wu asked.
“Called us incompetent,” Hargrave said. “A couple of months later, Brinkley stopped cooperating. Said his daughter had been traumatized enough by the men who took her, and he didn’t want us poking and prodding her anymore. He basically shut us down. We still investigated, but after months without progress, the case went cold.”
“A distraught parent can be unreasonable,” Johnson said. “His daughter probably told him she didn’t want to talk to the FBI anymore and he was protecting her. I don’t know how I would act under the same circumstances.”
Wu caught the glow of the com light near the center of the conference table and reached out to tap it. “SAC Wu.”
“Major Caparaz,” the responding voice said, filling the room. “I have the information you requested.”
Wu leaned forward. “What did you find out?”
“Oscar Brinkley’s main company has had several contracts with the DOD over the years. Currently he’s bidding for funding to develop virtual training.”
Wu exchanged a glance with Hargrave before prompting Caparaz. “What’s the nature of the training?”
“According to the proposal, it involves designing a completely interactive scenario-based virtual reality system. A soldier in training would wear a special suit and interact with computer-generated characters as well as other real troops. Commanding officers could use a control panel to manipulate the environment in real time according to how their personnel reacts to a given situation.”
Wu’s mouth went dry. “Where was this system supposed to be developed?”
“It’s only described as a highly secure facility,” Caparaz said. “He would allow Pentagon officials to tour the site if he became one of the finalists in the bidding process.”
The color had drained from Hargrave’s face. “Did Brinkley include a sample? Anything that might involve a way for us to access his system remotely?”
“Negative,” Caparaz said. “The process was in the first stage. He promised more if he made it to the second stage. Sounds like he was concerned about his intellectual property getting stolen.”
“Send a copy of the proposal to the JOC,” Wu said. “I need everything you’ve got on this VR training, especially if it involves how it works.”
“Roger that,” Caparaz said and disconnected.
“This answers our original question,” Wu said. “Brinkley bought the most secure facility he could find, which was a decommissioned missile silo in Arizona, and retrofitted it over the past five years to design a space for his VR training.”
“Holy shit,” Patel said. “The military could train all its personnel using this technology. They could change the environment inside for any terrain.” He spread his arms wide in an expansive gesture. “Newly promoted officers could be trained at the same time by manipulating the controls to see what happened. An opposing AI army could be programmed to react in real time. All without having to leave the base.”
“That could be worth a billion dollars to the Pentagon,” Hargrave said. “It wouldn’t eliminate the need for physical drilling, but it could cut back on expenses and injuries dramatically.”
Wu posed the question that had been nagging him most. “Why did Brinkley convert the operating system for what would have been a lucrative defense contract into the VR game we see now with Greek gods killing each other?”
The room grew quiet.
“The only way this makes sense is if Brinkley somehow found out the Colonel and his crew were behind the kidnapping and murder ten years ago,” Flint said. “He must have believed one of his competitors not only bribed the senator, but also hired the Colonel to sideline him with a personal crisis that would have demanded all his time and attention.”
“For that kind of money,” Patel said, “it wouldn’t be a stretch. They could get a payday out of the job at the same time.”
“Knowing Brinkley, retaliation would be more important to him than money,” Hargrave said. “If this was about revenge, he certainly had the means and the motive to carry it out.”
“Once Brinkley was convinced the Colonel was responsible for his wife’s death, he did not take the evidence to the FBI, because he thought we were incompetent,” Wu said. “He didn’t trust the criminal justice system and didn’t want to risk losing the case in court, so instead he creates his own ‘trial by combat.’” He air quoted the words. “A phrase the game’s developer used more than once.”
“Is he capable of that level of violence?” Flint asked, directing the question at Hargrave, the only one who had dealt with him personally.