Allison nodded. “Prisons, county jails, juvenile detention centers and just about anywhere else our society uses as a dumping ground for people with some of the skills we need. For example, some of the transportation specialists we use are former car thieves, drug runners, bootleggers and such. Our intelligence specialists tend to be young and extremely bright, with a penchant for computer hacking.”
“And the muscle tends to be just that, I bet, guys who have a tendency toward violence, and just need a little direction. Am I right?”
“Of course,” she said. “If humankind were capable of being completely honest with itself, it would probably be possible to find a way to properly use every skill and talent that people naturally turn to evil purposes. One of the things that has always amazed me is how many people will work harder at doing something criminal, something that will make some fast cash but have a high risk of ruining their lives, than they will at doing something that’s perfectly legitimate and can keep them happy for the rest of their days. To me, that is what I call illogical.”
“Ma’am?” the paramedic said. It was the first time he had spoken since Noah had awakened. “Driver says we’ll be pulling into the compound in about fifteen minutes.”
SIX
“Thank you, Marco,” she said. “Incidentally, Marco, this is Noah. Noah, meet Marco. Marco is one of our thugs, and he’s proven himself enough times that we use him in a lot of different capacities. At times, he becomes the fifth man on a team, if a little extra muscle is needed.”
Marco and Noah looked at each other. “Welcome to Neverland, Noah,” Marco said. “If you make it, maybe I’ll get to back you up one day.”
Noah nodded at him. “Then let’s hope I make it, so we get that chance.” He turned to Allison. “Neverland?”
“An inside joke,” she said. “Each of the teams is named after a place, person or thing from mythology or fairy tales. For example, if you make it through, you’ll be heading up Team Camelot, since that’s the next designation on my list.”
Noah’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting,” he said, “especially in light of the fact that King Arthur is my own favorite historical character. Will that be my codename? King Arthur?”
Allison laughed, and Noah was surprised at how genuine and unpretentious it was. “No, I’m afraid not,” she said. “If a codename is used for you, it will be simply Camelot, and each of your team members would be designated as Camelot One, Camelot Two, Camelot Three, etc. We don’t usually resort to such theatrics, though. In this day and age, secure communication depends more on technology than it does on subterfuge. Each of our people has a phone that is capable of ultra-secure communication, anywhere in the world, due to some awesome encryption technology. I can call one of them up, give them detailed orders and instructions on their missions without ever once having to use a code, because my phone will scramble it into meaningless and indecipherable beeps and tones, while the recipient’s phone contains the algorithm that will turn it back into the sound of my voice. Oh, and by the way, it’s the confirmed voiceprint of the person I’m calling that activates that algorithm, so even if someone else gets hold of the phone, they’d never hear those orders.”
Noah nodded. “Yeah, I can understand how that works. Pretty cool.” He felt the ambulance slowing down. “Seems like we’re about there.”
“Yep,” Allison said. “Listen, when you go to get out of the ambulance, be careful. The drugs we used might still make you a little groggy, so don’t be afraid to hang on to Marco. He’ll help you get into your room. You’ll find clothing and just about anything you might need already there. Needless to say, it’s not possible to bring personal effects with you, since you’re officially dead. We don’t use a uniform, so our procurement department has just stocked you up on an assortment of clothing for right now. You’ll find that we know quite a bit about you, and so your preferences should be pretty well reflected in the choices we’ve made.”
“Hey, just about anything would be better than the boxers they gave me in prison. Damn things feel like they’re made of sandpaper.” He could feel the ambulance maneuvering its way along an apparently twisting path. “Good-sized place you got here?”
“Actually, it is. We’ve got about ten thousand acres, a little over fifteen square miles. There are various obstacle courses and training structures. We’ve got mockups of different kinds of rural and urban environments, military installations, terrorist enclaves and compounds, you name it. We’re right on the edge of some government facilities, so we’re under a no-fly zone. The only aircraft that can get into our airspace are our own and, in some areas, the same holds true for vehicles. Nothing comes in, unless it’s one of ours.”
The ambulance stopped. Marco moved to open the back doors, and that’s when Noah realized that it was daylight outside, early morning, apparently.