by Paul Stein
Morris made his next call to headquarters, reporting the news about Penburton to Captain Hawkley. They spoke at length about the investigation and the need for the chief to authorize out-of-state travel to Kentucky. While Captain Hawkley was supportive, he made no guarantee that Morris’s request would be approved. In the meantime he expected a full report on his desk by the end of shift.
As he was finishing his update with Hawkley, he recognized Agent Henry moving toward the blast site. As Henry stopped to look at the smoldering car, Morris could see from the man’s body language that he was demoralized.
“Ain’t this a hell-ov-a-note?” Morris said when he caught up with Henry. As they shook hands, he could see the strain etched deeply on the agent’s face.
Henry was shaking his head in disgust. “Just when you think the tide’s about to turn, another shoe drops. This is flippin’ unbelievable.”
“Well, hang on a minute, hoss…I’ve got news that’s bound to cheer you up some. While we were talking earlier, Sarah Marshall left me a message. Conrad left a one word message: Louisville. They’ve left the state and are heading to Louisville. I don’t know what the devil’s in Kentucky, but this is a big break, man. We’ll catch these bastards,” he said earnestly, trying to bolster Agent Henry’s confidence.
Jason Henry looked up and a faint smile creased his lips. “The hell you say. By God, that is good news. Okay…let’s look at the bright side,” he said, gathering himself and coming to terms with the new developments. “We’ve got to assume Penburton was executed by whoever is behind this whole plan…I’ll stake my reputation on it. There’s something in his personal records that he didn’t want me to see. How fast can you get me his phone log?”
“I’ll get right on it. With the court order, it won’t take but an hour to get the phone company to release the log…I’ll call it in.”
“Hold on a second, I’ve got information for you, too,” Henry said with a wink, looking like he was about to trump Morris’s news about Louisville. “I heard from a very good friend who used to work for the Secret Service. He’s a private detective now. He was contacted by Senator Coscarelli to help find his daughter. I have absolute faith in the man. With his help we have a huge ally that won’t be constrained by the constitutional rules we have to follow. Catch my drift? We are gonna nail these bastards,” he said with a wry smile.
“Whoa! See…the tide’s beginning to turn,” Morris said. “Give me the court order; I’ll make a copy and get a detective over to the phone company.” He took the document from Agent Henry, looked at it briefly, and shoved it in his breast pocket. “Let’s move…time’s not on our side; we’ve got to figure out what these guys are doing in Kentucky. When I get the phone log, I’ll call you. This is a breakthrough…mark my words.”
“I sure hope you’re right. Let’s meet for dinner at the pizza place down the street from your office…say about seven-thirty. Will that give you enough time?”
“Plenty. See you there, Jason. Let’s figure out how to bust these bastards.”
What the hell are these guys up to in Louisville? Henry wondered. Why would they need Conrad and his antigravity machine anywhere in Kentucky? It doesn’t make any sense. The only thing there worth anything is Fort Knox, and that’s one of the most heavily guarded places in the nation. He stopped for a second, pondering. Nah, nobody would be crazy enough to think they could break into Fort Knox. I’ll call Palmer to get his read. One thing’s certain—the noose is drawing tighter. With Palmer’s help…we’ll cut these guys’ balls off.
FIFTY-ONE
LOS ANGELES
19:00 HOURS
RYAN AND SARAH MARSHALL made the drive through the Grapevine to Los Angeles International Airport in reasonable time. Traffic in L.A. was always a burden, but today the freeways had no delays and the 405 southbound leading past the airport was no exception.
The couple worked out a plan as they approached the airport: Ryan would drop Sarah off at the terminal and she would purchase two tickets to Louisville; he would return the rental. If there was enough time after returning the car, he wanted to visit a men’s shop to buy a new shirt and pair of Levis—he’d been living in the same clothes far too long. Ryan didn’t anticipate any problems with the first part of the plan, but was growing steadily anxious about facing the mandatory passenger screening at the airport. This would test the sagacity of their plan to fly rather than drive to Kentucky.
Security at LAX was the biggest impediment facing the wayward couple. Ryan imagined that even with an all-points-bulletin for his arrest, the TSA couldn’t possibly scrutinize everyone wanted by the law. More likely, the screeners from the Transportation Safety Administration would be profiling possible terrorists, a profile that he and Sarah didn’t match.
The only thing that could raise suspicion was the lack of advance reservations. Any tickets purchased on the same day as the flight raised a red flag for security. Ryan was banking on the fact that because neither of them fit any ethnic profile, they could overcome the same-day flight rule. Failure to make it through security was a horrifying thought, however; the prospect of being booked into the Los Angeles County Jail filled Ryan with trepidation. He shook the thought from his mind.
Ryan knew his way around LAX from coordinating a construction job a few years back in nearby Inglewood. He remembered a Starbucks kiosk located near the elevators that took passengers to the security checkpoint area. He figured Sarah could find Wi-Fi there to check for the latest messages from Jarrod. Sarah agreed to wait for him there.
Despite the anxiety about boarding a plane, he couldn’t believe how well things were going. Sarah was with him again, they knew with a growing degree of confidence where Jer was being held, and he still hadn’t been caught by the police. It was hard to grasp everything they had been through in the short span of the last three days since he left Taos.
Ryan found the Enterprise Rent-a-Car lot and returned his SUV. Then he took the shuttle back to the main terminal. It was only a few minutes before he joined Sarah at the Starbucks kiosk.
“Everything okay?” he asked, kissing the top of her forehead before sitting down beside her. Ryan drank in the beauty of Sarah’s smile as she looked up at him. She was glowing. He had not seen her look this good in what seemed like ages.
“Sure, how about you?”
“I’m just so glad we’re doing this together, Sarah. I don’t know what I’d do without you. This feels right, doesn’t it? I mean, what we’re about to do…fly to Kentucky…risk getting caught…all of it. Are you okay with our plan?”
“Oh, Ryan, I threw away caution when I agreed to let Jer follow you to Stanford…that was against my nature. And while I regretted the decision at first, I can see now that it was the only way to unravel all that’s happened these last few days. When I think about how dysfunctional our family was, and how far we’ve come, I see our path led by divine intervention—a path that leads to Jer. Sure I’m worried about the outcome, but I believe our plan is the best course.” she said reassuringly, looking lovingly at Ryan as she spoke.
“Okay, it’s just that if you have any doubts…now’s the time to change your mind. If you don’t want to accompany me through security…I’ll understand. Until now, you’re only an accessory; buying me a ticket to flee the state will be judged as aiding and abetting. Maybe it would be best if only one of us goes to jail when this is all over. You need to think about that, Sarah.”
Sarah looked crestfallen, hurt by Ryan’s comment. “I have thought about this, and there’s no way I’m going to beg out now,” she said solemnly. “And don’t you think that when the authorities understand the extenuating circumstances they’ll grant us leniency? I mean really…our only surviving son is kidnapped and they expect us to stand by and hope for the best? No, sir, mister. Not this mother. I’ll fight anyone to keep Jer from harm.”
Sarah indignantly folded her arms across her chest. She suspected that Ryan was trying to be gallant, but this was no time for his mac
ho Italian chivalry.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you or imply I don’t need you with me...I do. I just want you to consider what happens when this is all over,” he explained recognizing he had hurt her feelings. “There are consequences to what we’re doing. I hope you’re right about the leniency, honey. But I want you to think about the cost. This could end badly.”
“Yes, it could, Ryan…it could be tragic,” she said leaning forward in her chair. “Here’s my fear: You go it alone…and I lose Jer, Sela, and you—the three most important people in my life. I can’t take that risk. I wouldn’t survive the loss. I’m more afraid of that than anything we’ll face together. Do you understand?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
Ryan took both her hands in his and whispered softly. “Yes, I understand, honey, and I feel the same way. I just wanted to make sure. If we go down, we’ll go down together. Come on…let’s get this over with,” he said, standing in preparation for moving to the passenger screening area.
They stepped onto the escalator and joined a long line of passengers waiting to be screened. The wait only compounded their anxiety. When it was their turn, they presented their boarding passes and identification to the TSA agent, who briefly looked them over and then indicated they step into the queue for the metal detectors.
Ryan chose a line that looked like it was moving faster then others. A portly black woman standing opposite the scanner looked purposeful but also relaxed. Her demeanor lifted Ryan’s sprits. He began putting his belt, money clip, and cap in the basket to be checked; Sarah was doing the same with the laptop and her purse.
Ryan stepped forward when the attendant signaled it was his turn and she said, “Excuse me, sir, but you’ll have to remove those boots.”
His heartbeat was already over a hundred beats a minute, but forgetting to remove his work boots put him squarely in the woman’s spotlight. Damnit, how could I have forgotten the boots? He gave Sarah a forlorn look. Her face was ashen. The line behind them came to a complete halt while Ryan stooped over to begin unlacing his ankle-high work boots. He worked feverishly, his hands noticeably shaking. He felt as if everyone was watching him. Calm down…calm down, he thought.
“Are you two together?” the attendant asked, looking past Ryan to Sarah.
“Yes,” Sarah simply replied.
“Come ahead, then,” the attendant motioned with her hand.
Sarah held her boarding pass for the TSA agent to see, and calmly walked through the metal detector. It remained mercifully silent and she moved to the end of the screening area to retrieve her purse and laptop.
Ryan awkwardly removed both boots and put them through the scanner. He held his ticket at chest-level and walked through the machine when the attendant signaled. The alarm blared, causing the attendant to stop him. She asked that he step back through the device and try again.
“Have you removed everything from your pockets?” she asked authoritatively.
“Yes, I believe so,” Ryan replied, feeling like he was caught in a spiraling vortex. He lost focus and became uncomfortably warm. He began perspiring, which he figured would be a dead giveaway that he was trying to hide something. Why is this happening? What have I missed? He fumbled through his pockets again and came up empty.
Then he remembered Amerigo’s coin. He ran his index finger into the coin pocket of his Levis and found his lucky 1899 Liberty silver dollar that he faithfully carried. He held it up for the attendant, smiled guiltily, and then put it through the machine. His third attempt to get past the TSA attendant was successful. The alarm remained silent and the woman seemed pleased to be rid of him, turning to focus on the next passenger. Ryan collected his boots, the coin, and his hat and walked out of the screening area without stopping.
They had successfully made it through security in LAX. Ryan’s chest was pounding; he felt like he was having a heart attack. He looked at Sarah, who was relieved, but the look on her face conveyed volumes about her feelings: Don’t you ever do that to me again.
Sarah grabbed Ryan’s free hand and they walked briskly to gate C 13, their plane departing for Houston in fifty-five minutes. They were safe for the moment.
AUGUST SEVENTH
FIFTY-TWO
WEST POINT, KENTUCKY
06:00 HOURS
IT WAS JUST APPROACHING DAWN when Kilmer began rousting the team from their overdue slumber. As he stepped from the luxury bus he was able to see the Wildcat Catfish Farm for the first time. It wasn’t hard to see that the owner of this property took great pride in his business. The operation appeared very orderly—the buildings had a fresh look; signs directed visitors to the office, hatchery, and other key parts of the facility; the Wildcat Catfish logo dominated one side of a huge feed silo; a series of tanker trucks were lined up next to a busy loading station. It looked to be a productive day at the farm.
Kilmer stopped for a few moments taking in the scene. His attention was caught by two tractors pulling a huge net through one of the ponds, presumably corralling catfish. Several men wearing chest waders were scooping huge nets of fish into a purse seine hooked to the outstretched boom of a backhoe. When the net was full, the backhoe lifted the fish from the water and positioned it above the hatch of the tanker. With the purse seine in position, it zippered open and the fish were indelicately dumped into the tanker as quickly as possible. The loading operation looked very efficient, if labor-intensive. Kilmer was enthralled. He had had an affinity for aquaculture ever since he first visited a hatchery in Brisbane as a young boy. Had he not been otherwise preoccupied, he would have liked watching the men load the trucks. When the Knox job was completed, he intended to spend some time learning how Struffeneger grew catfish on the property.
As Kilmer walked between the bus and the main house, he guessed that Sully and Travis were about to go wheels up from the Hilton Head airport. His final duty before retiring the night before had been to notify Sully of the team’s arrival, who promised to deliver Sela Coscarelli the following day. Holloway had previously made the decision that Sully would move her to Kentucky to be held together with the other hostages. This would eliminate another reason for Conrad to withhold his cooperation through the next phase of the operation. But Holloway was also cognizant that the police could show up at his estate. He figured they would likely come snooping around when his phone number was discovered in Penburton’s records, and while he had a ready explanation for this association, he didn’t want to run the risk of the Coscarelli woman being found if they searched the premises. There would be no explanation for that.
After waking the men, Kilmer returned to the bus, poured hot water on the black teabag in his mug, and began skimming the pre-plan for the upcoming operation. Without Weaver and Krilenko, it was especially important to wring every bit of efficiency from the remaining personnel. Having Farley would be a big help; he would guard the hostages while the rest of the team carried out the mission. Farley was a psychopath and would act without hesitation or remorse when the call came to eliminate the hostages. But that couldn’t happen until Conrad had carried out his last operation with the antigravity machine. Until then, they would keep all the hostages alive; afterwards they were expendable.
Kilmer still didn’t know what to make of Struffeneger and his wife. This was a niggling problem for him. Emil would be the only link—apart from his teammates—to the Knox operation after it was completed. Emil had mentioned, shortly after the men arrived, that his wife, Hélène, had taken their twin daughters to her relatives. She was not planning to return until after the men were gone. “You’ll have full access to my home and its amenities,” he’d said hospitably. While the privacy was reassuring, he still wondered if the man and his wife could be trusted. This was a disquieting uncertainty. He decided to inquire about his allegiance to Alastair Holloway, if only to satisfy his own curiosity.
Kilmer went through the plan one more time before the walk-through with the men. He knew Rafie would again be the most difficult, so he
paid particular attention to identifying weaknesses Rafie would possibly expose.
The breach of Fort Knox was relatively straightforward: Colt and Rafie would arrive with the semi at the main security checkpoint of the Army base. Kilmer and the rest of his men would be hidden in the back with Dr. Conrad. Holloway had procured the requisite transport documents that showed they were delivering top-secret surveillance equipment to the base. The documents promised to pass even the most discerning inspection by the MPs, and because the load was highly classified, the military police wouldn’t inspect it. This first step admitted them onto the base. The containment building and the gold vault were still some three miles away. That was where the state-of-the-art security would begin.
When they were within sight of the bullion building, Colt would secure the semi next to an electrical transformer and they would begin to deploy the antigravity machine. Conrad estimated that they needed to be within at least 300 yards of the facility to ensure maximum gravitron efficiency. After Colt deployed the outriggers to stabilize the trailer, Ventura was to climb the pole and connect the electrical cables. Fort Knox had three-phase power available, which was ideal because it was the same amperage as the tests they ran in San Jose. In the meantime, Mills and Conrad would extend the microwave dish and power up the computers to bring everything on line.
Starkovich would command the second unit with Struffeneger, staying behind a few miles in a rented ten-wheel dump truck hauling a skip loader. They would await Kilmer’s signal that the machine was ready for the big crush, after which Stark would take out the MPs with his sniper rifle and enter the base. This team would drive directly to the Fort Knox vault to begin loading the gold. Once on scene, Colt would switch to driving the dump truck to work in tandem with Struffeneger, operating the skip loader. The timetable for this phase of the operation was critical. They planned to load gold no longer than five minutes, or once the truck was full. At the five-minute mark, everyone would retreat to the dump truck and head back to Wildcat Farm. Stark would remain positioned on top of the truck with the Stinger missile launcher to ward off the pursuing Apache helicopters. Aside from that, everything else would be abandoned— including the antigravity machine.
