He walked forward and pulled up the dead man’s pant leg, revealing a Fallkniven A1 survival knife strapped securely to his calf. Caesare unclipped the weapon and slid it out, momentarily admiring it. He then reached down and cut a shape into the back of the man’s brightly colored shirt. At least they had the sense to dress the part.
If Otero were stupid enough to pursue Caesare, he should at least know who he was dealing with.
He returned the knife and nodded approvingly. The shape was a trident, the symbol of the U.S. Navy’s Sea, Air, and Land teams –– more commonly known as SEALs.
5
DeeAnn Draper’s office was small and conservatively decorated. Just a single framed picture on the beige wall and another on her desk were all she had ever bothered to put up. It was a reflection of both her minimalistic lifestyle as well as the limited amount of time she actually spent in her office. Chris joked that it eerily resembled an advertisement out of an office supply magazine. But she did really like it there. She felt as much at home with Alison’s team as she had working at the Gorilla Foundation. And what Alison and her team had achieved was simply amazing.
DeeAnn sat in her black chair and scanned the room, now wishing she’d made a little more of an effort to decorate. But then again, maybe this would make things easier.
She glanced up at the sound of a soft knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened just far enough to allow Lee Kenwood’s young and somewhat handsome face to peek in.
“Oh good, you’re still here. I saw your light on and thought I’d check.”
DeeAnn grinned. “Yep. Still here. Unfortunately.”
“You got a sec?”
“Sure.”
With that, Lee pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was holding the latest vest he and Juan had just built. “Good news, the new vest is ready.”
DeeAnn stood up, grabbing one side of it. “Lee! You’re not supposed to be lifting anything heavy.”
“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “They’re feeling a lot better.”
DeeAnn gave him a dubious frown. “Ribs don’t heal that fast.” Together they sat it down onto the other half of her desk. She ran her fingers over the dark nylon and the two large Velcro pockets that wrapped around the waist. “I’m sorry I broke the last one.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Besides, it gave us a chance to tweak a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing major. Just some slight improvements. More padding around the motherboard.” He tapped a portion lightly to show her. “And we also removed some of the material on the back, which should improve the airflow a little.”
“Music to my ears.” DeeAnn stood the contraption on end and turned it around. The vest was amazing technologically, but from a non-geek standpoint it was a burden to wear in hot weather. The humidity in Puerto Rico was already more than she was used to, but it had been almost suffocating in Brazil. “It feels lighter,” she observed.
“The old one had heavier batteries.”
The original vest had been a big step forward. Being allowed to remain in the habitat and still have it transmit back and forth to IMIS was huge. But when Lee and Juan made better versions and included a camera, it was a game changer.
“Thank you, Lee. I really appreciate it.”
DeeAnn laid the vest back down and noticed he hadn’t said anything. She looked back up to find him silently staring down at the vest.
“Something on your mind?”
After a moment, he looked back at her. “Do you have time to talk about something?”
She folded her arms in front of herself. “Of course. Is this about that problem with the logs?”
Lee nodded. “We were talking to Chris about it earlier today and I had a thought. Something I wanted to ask you about.”
“Okay.”
“So, we’ve talked about the whole communication problem with the speaker.”
“The nonverbal problem.”
“Right. The system doesn’t have the ability to translate nonverbal communication back through the speaker. At least it shouldn’t. So instead of trying to troubleshoot that, it occurred to me that maybe there’s a different answer. Something that we’re not considering.”
“Like what?”
“Well, initially I thought the log problem existed because IMIS wasn’t translating correctly. I’m a believer in the fallibility of computers, so I assumed it was a fault somewhere. But it was translating correctly, and it took me a long time to understand it.” He blinked, thinking as he spoke. “What I’m wondering now is whether I’ve made the wrong assumption again.”