Simple Genius (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 3)

“Get that a lot this time of year,” the driver said in a bored tone.

“What’s that, instant death?” Sean snapped.

He looked to his right where he could see the river through the patches of cleared fields. Beyond that he made out, just barely, the shiny chain link fencing topped by razor wire surrounding the land just across the York River.

“Camp Peary?” he asked, pointing.

“CIA spook land. Call it the Farm.”

“I’d forgotten it was down here.” Sean knew perfectly well it was there, but he was pretending ignorance in the hopes of getting some local intelligence.

“People who live around here never have trouble remembering.”

“Small animals and children disappearing in the night?” Sean asked with a smile.

“No, but that plane you came in on? You can bet that a surface-to-air missile from the Farm was trained on your ass until you touched down. If the plane had wandered into restricted airspace, you would’ve come down out of the skies a lot faster than you would’ve wanted to.”

“I’m sure. But I guess they bring a lot of jobs to the area.”

“Yeah, but they also took stuff.”

“What do you mean?” Sean asked.

“The Navy ran it first. When they came here they kicked everybody out.”

“Everybody out?” Sean looked confused.

“Yeah, there were two towns over there: Magruder and Bigler’s Mill. My grandparents lived in Magruder. During the war they got moved to James City County. Then the Navy vacated the place after the war but came back in the early Fifties. It’s been off-limits ever since.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah, wasn’t so interesting for my grandparents. But the military does whatever the hell it wants.”

“Well, you should take comfort in the fact that now it’s just your neighborly CIA over there watching you through binoculars.”

The man chuckled and Sean changed the subject. “Did you know Monk Turing?”

The man nodded. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“And he was like everybody else at Babbage Town. Too much brains. We didn’t exactly speak the same language.”

“How long have you worked there?”

“Two years.”

“Why does this place need security?”

“Important stuff they’re working on.”

“Like what?”

“Asking the wrong person. Has to do with numbers and computers. They’ll probably tell you, if you ask them.” He smiled. “Oh, yeah, they’ll tell you in a way that you’ll never understand, but there you are.” The driver pointed up ahead. “Welcome to Babbage Town.” He added with a grin, “Hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

CHAPTER

12