The Loch Ness Legacy tl-4

by Boyd Morrison

  Tyler thought about it and knew Zim would be more careful than that. “The Coalinga municipal airport is too obvious. He’s got to know that the police would hurry to lock it down.”

  “Then where is he going?”

  Tyler remembered passing Harris Ranch on the way down. “There’s a landing strip by the inn. He must be meeting someone there.”

  Tyler unrolled his window and stuck his head out. Sure enough, a Cessna was on final approach.

  “Go!” he yelled. “We might have time to intercept them.”

  Harris put the Suburban back in drive and floored it, activating the vehicle’s lights and siren. The SUV screamed up the ramp and hit seventy by the time they were on the freeway.

  The Cessna buzzed past. It was only a few miles to the runway. If they didn’t reach the rendezvous in time to stop Zim, the Cessna could fly below radar into the Sierras, where it would be impossible to track. It could then land on any flat piece of land, and Zim would drive to freedom at his leisure. Alexa would never be safe until he was caught or killed.

  Tyler scanned the sky to his left to see if he could spot the helicopter. It would be coming in low over the orange groves. For a minute he saw nothing. But he heard it. A low throb grew from the west.

  The whirring rotors of the chopper appeared above the trees, and Tyler could see smoke streaming from its rear.

  As it approached the highway, the helicopter flew erratically, dipping and weaving as if the pilot were having difficulty controlling it.

  The Suburban reached the exit for the inn and restaurant, and Harris yanked the wheel over, streaking down the ramp. The Cessna was already on the tarmac at the end of the runway, turning to face south. All Zim would need to do was land, hop off the chopper, and board the plane, leaving the helicopter behind.

  The throb of the rotors pounded behind them. Harris squealed around a corner. She’d have to make three more turns to the runway entrance.

  Next to the restaurant was a Shell station where a cattle truck was refueling. Tyler watched as the gyrating helicopter overshot the runway and headed straight for the gas station.

  Harris stood on the brakes as the chopper struck the cattle truck dead center.

  The Jetranger dissolved into a ball of fire. The truck driver, who had seen the chopper coming, sprinted across the road and dived into a ditch just before the truck’s own tanks went up.

  “Get down!” Tyler shouted, and he and Harris flung themselves as low as they could get inside the car.

  The gas station’s underground tank ignited, creating an enormous shock wave that blew out the Suburban’s windows, showering them with pellets of safety glass. Heat poured through the open space.

  After a few seconds, the explosion dissipated, though chunks of charred and raw meat from the destroyed cattle truck rained down on the SUV, smacking into the roof and hood with wet splats.

  Slowly, Tyler and Harris raised their heads and took in the abattoir that used to be the Shell station. The pumps were gone, and the store next to it was a smoldering hulk. Tyler knew it would take weeks to sort through the various body parts strewn around the area, cattle and human mixed together.

  Harris picked up her phone and made a call. “Harris here,” she said, her voice quaking. “Send fire and ambulance units to Dorris Street and I-5. Forensic units, too. We need to search for Victor Zim’s body.”

  The House of Riddles

  WORLD NEWS

  Egyptian Foreign Minister Dies from Sudden Illness

  By GAMAL HASSAN

  June 19, CAIRO — Just a week after returning to Egypt from a summit in Paris, foreign minister Karim Abusir succumbed to an undisclosed disease after being rushed to Dar Al Fouad Hospital in Giza. He was 87.

  The death comes at a critical juncture for Egypt. Mr. Abusir was one of the few members of the cabinet encouraging the president to refrain from a conflict with Israel as tensions continue to worsen. Although no attendees of the summit were killed in the Eiffel Tower attack on June 12, the repercussions from the incident continue to reverberate throughout the Middle East. Arab leaders are convinced that Israel was behind the assault, despite vehement denials from the Israeli government.

  With six armored and eight infantry divisions of the Egyptian army moving into the Sinai desert and with Syrian forces gathering near the Golan Heights, the region is closer to a full-scale war than at any other time in the last forty years.

  Part of the urgency seems to be related to the foreign minister’s untimely death. The Egyptian government has not commented on the nature of Mr. Abusir’s illness, but sources in the ministry suggest that foul play has not been ruled out.

  NINE

  Tyler appeared in Grant’s office doorway at Gordian headquarters looking like he’d only gotten a few hours’ sleep before taking the first morning flight back from San Jose to Seattle.

  Thank God the Victor Zim threat was over yesterday, Grant thought. If it hadn’t ended so abruptly, Tyler might have asked him to spend the night at his house to make sure Alexa was safe while he oversaw Gordian’s team investigating the helicopter crash. No telling what would have happened then.

  Instead, as soon as Tyler had called with the news of the botched escape attempt leading to Zim’s death the previous afternoon, Grant was able to go home and take a long, cold shower. After retiring early in the evening, he slept twelve hours, something he hadn’t done in years. Even with all the rest, he still felt like he’d run a marathon. All those years in the ring and the Army must have finally been catching up to him.

  As Tyler was driving in from the airport, he had called to ask Grant to pick up Alexa and bring her to the office so that Tyler could see her there rather than going home. When Grant arrived to get her, she gave him another hug and a peck on the cheek, one that was a little too lingering. Grant would have flirted with her shamelessly if she hadn’t been Tyler’s little sister. He restrained himself with only the greatest difficulty. Not wanting to encourage her, he kept his mouth shut on the drive downtown. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Tyler know.

  “Welcome back,” Grant said. “Find any pieces of Zim?”

  Tyler sank into the chair opposite and massaged his injured arm. “Not yet, but it’s a huge mess. It’ll take weeks to sort through. Unless we get a DNA match, I doubt we’ll identify the pilot from the remains we find. What wasn’t flambéed was mixed up with thousands of pounds of steer carcass chunks.”

  Grant grimaced. “Sounds appetizing.”

  “It’s strictly pasta for me for the next few days.”

  “At least Alexa’s in the clear now.”

  Tyler nodded. “I think so, but I’ll feel better when we have Zim’s remains. Where is she?”

  “In good hands. I left her with Miles.”

  “He’s in the office today? I thought he was in Phoenix.”

  “Apparently he heard about what happened to you and came back early. He’s waiting to get the story.”

  “We’ll go and see him in a few minutes. Did Alexa give you any trouble?”

  Grant’s smile disappeared. Normally he could read Tyler like a book, but when it came to his family, Tyler could be cryptic.

  “Trouble?” Grant said, trying to act casual. “What do you mean?”

  “Did you see anyone suspicious? Anyone that looked out of place in the neighborhood?”

  Grant breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head. “Nothing unusual. She thinks you’re overprotective.”

  “With both Zims gone, I’m sure that’s the end of any potential vendetta, but I’m glad you were with her just the same.”

  “No problem, man.” Tyler smiled, and Grant cringed at what was coming next. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.

  “You’re one of the few people I’d trust with her,” Tyler said.

  You said it. Guilt tore through Grant even though he hadn’t actually done anything. The impure thoughts were enough.

  Grant cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I go
t the report from our French division. The explosion on the tower that knocked you flat also took out the water main feeding the Salle Gustav Eiffel’s sprinkler system.”

  Tyler frowned. “Carl Zim was trying to blow up the sprinkler system so that the fire would kill everyone in the reception?”

  “Maybe. But if that was the case, his timing was pretty bad. The sprinklers started spraying long before Carl’s explosion took place. No way a fire could go anywhere after that. Everything was soaked, including me.”

  “Then why blow it up?”

  Grant shrugged. “It might not have been the ultimate target, just collateral damage. The Gordian team was able to partially reconstruct an unusual item from the wreckage.”

  “How unusual?”

  “In the X-Files range. It’s twisted metal from a cylindrical aluminum object about the size of a submarine sandwich. The biggest segments were found on the ground, but they matched bits to pieces on the catwalk where you tangled with Carl Zim.”

  “What’s so unusual about that?”

  Grant turned his computer so Tyler could see the screen. As Tyler scooted his chair forward and leaned on the desk to get a closer look, his phone rang. He looked at the display and said, “Agent Harris.”

  He answered. “What’s the latest, Melanie?” He listened for a few seconds, then said, “Sure, I’ll have someone bring you up to Miles’ office when you get here.” He hung up with a puzzled expression.

  “What’s she doing here?” Grant asked. “I thought she’d still be working on finding out who tried to bust Zim out of prison.”

  Tyler shook his head. “I don’t know. All she said is that it has something to do with the Eiffel Tower attack.”

  Grant felt a chill run down his spine. “I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with this thing.” He zoomed in on five pieces that had been laid out side-by-side. The edges were bent and ripped, but they clearly fit together because of the letters that were stenciled across it.

  Tyler sounded it out. “Alt waf fe.”

  “One word. Altwaffe.”

  “That’s German, right?”

  Grant nodded. “It means ‘old weapon.’ And before you ask, I have no idea why it’s called that. Our guys looked it up and couldn’t find a reference to it anywhere. Could be a code word.”

  “Maybe it means the weapon was considered obsolete.”

  “That could be why it didn’t go off. Carl might have been expecting a big bang, and it fizzled instead.”

  “So we don’t know what was in the tube?”

  “No. The heat from the explosion destroyed any residue. But you haven’t seen the best part.”

  Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

  Grant clicked on another thumbnail to show another piece of the same metal.

  “This part was on the other side of the tube,” Grant said.

  Tyler’s eyes flicked from the screen to Grant, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “It can’t be.”

  Grant nodded. “It is. Our guys report that it’s the real deal.”

  Tyler turned back and shook his head at the screen in disbelief. Though the image on the metal showed faintly through the blackened surface, there was no doubt it was a Nazi swastika.

  TEN

  There wasn’t much more to glean from the report about the Nazi relic. No clue about where it had come from or what its purpose was. Tyler wished he could look at it himself, but there was no way the French government was going to let it out of the country.

  Agent Harris texted that she was caught in the Friday morning traffic and was five minutes out. He sent someone down to wait for her while he and Grant headed to Miles’ corner office on the top floor.

  The door was open, so they walked in without knocking to the sight of Alexa shoving her shoulder with all her might against the back of their CEO’s iBOT wheelchair. Miles, a burly retired Marine officer who still sported a high and tight crew cut, smiled at them from his perch in the fully upright position that the gyroscopically stabilized chair made possible and grinned at the full mug of coffee in his hand.

  “You can push all you want,” Tyler said, “you’re not going to knock him over.”

  Alexa released her stance and smirked at him. “I wasn’t trying to knock him over, you dimwit. I have twenty bucks that says I can spill his coffee.”

  “You’ll lose that bet. The motors and gears have been modified by him personally. You couldn’t do it with anything less than a forklift.”

  She rolled her eyes, took a twenty from her pocket, and slapped it into Miles’ waiting hand. He tucked it in his shirt pocket and took a self-satisfied sip from his mug.

  “If I’d known your sister was such an easy mark,” he said, “I would have bet a hundred.”

  Alexa rushed over to Tyler and gave him a tight hug. Then she stepped back and inspected his arm. “I thought you were really injured, you dork.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as it sounded.”

  “It wasn’t? You mean getting shot and then almost blown up before nearly falling 150 feet to your death wasn’t that bad?”

  “See? When you put it that way, it sounds like I almost died.”

  “You better not,” she said and gave him another brief hug. “So am I a free woman now or do you want to continue with the nanny bit?” She stared pointedly at Grant and rolled her eyes.

  “I’d say you need someone responsible looking after you at all times,” Tyler said, “but it looks like you’re out of danger now.” Without going into excruciating detail, he told Alexa about Victor Zim’s threat and his subsequent death.

  Alexa’s expression went from fear to annoyance to comprehension in three blinks. She turned to Grant. “So that’s why you rushed over to the house all sweaty.”

  Tyler quizzed Grant with his eyes.

  “I was at the gym when you called,” Grant explained quickly.

  Alexa laughed. “And he smelled like he brought the whole gym back with him.” She looked at Tyler. “I’m in the clear?”

  Tyler hesitated, so Grant chimed in. “Unless Zim comes back as a zombie.”

  “It’s a long walk from California, so I’m not too concerned about that. Well, it looks like you guys have something to talk about, so I will get out of your hair.”

  “Where are you going?” Tyler asked.

  “I’m meeting a friend at Pike Place Market for some coffee.”

  “Dillman?” Grant said.

  Alexa nodded. “He just texted me. He’s not home this morning and thought it would be a good place to rendezvous.”

  “Is this the guy who was at Loch Ness with you?” Tyler asked.

  “The same.”

  Tyler was reluctant to let her go. Though Zim seemed to be out of the picture now, Alexa’s connection to Laroche was troubling. Something in his gut was telling him to keep her here.

  “Excuse us,” Tyler said to Grant and Miles. He took Alexa aside and lowered his voice.

  “Maybe you should wait for me,” he said.

  “Until when?”

  “Let’s go down there for lunch.”

  Alexa patted him on his good shoulder. “You can’t keep an eye on me twenty-four seven. Besides, I’ve traveled to twenty countries without you. I think I can handle downtown Seattle.”

  “But if Zim hired somebody to go after you—”

  “What are you going to do? Hire a bodyguard to follow me around for the rest of my life? The guy’s dead. I’ll be fine.”

  Tyler sighed. It was tough giving up the big brother routine. “Okay. How about I meet you at Etta’s and we can catch up?”

  “Good idea. I’ll let you both treat me to crab cakes.”

  “Me and Dillman?”

  “No, you and Grant. I want to hear his version of Paris, too.”

  Tyler shrugged. “There’s not much more to tell.”

  She gave him a concerned look and took his hand. “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve had to kill someone, but it still must have been
difficult.”

  “It had to be done.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “You don’t need to hear it.” Alexa had been spared the ugliness of killing, which is why he’d never discussed his missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. There wasn’t a common frame of reference, and he was afraid she wouldn’t understand some of the things he’d had to do.

  “All right,” she said. “But you know you can tell me anything, right?”

  Tyler nodded. “Oh, I had a question for you. Have you seen André Laroche lately?” Because the FBI’s investigation was ongoing, Tyler wasn’t allowed to reveal that he was a suspect.

  Alexa furrowed her brow at the seeming non-sequitur. “No. I’ve been trying to meet with him, but Marlo Dunham — that’s his assistant — would only tell me he was unavailable.”

  “Has he tried to contact you?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious about your plans while you’re here.”

  “Last I heard from him was a couple of days ago. He sent me an email about our search for the Loch Ness monster.”

  “Was there any clue to where he was going?

  “No. What’s this about?”

  “I’d like to meet who you’re working for. Has he ever asked you about me?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically. “Your name comes up all the time.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “You’re being really weird.”

  “Just let me know if Laroche calls you.”

  She looked at him dubiously, then slowly said, “Okay.”

  Tyler loved her naïveté. He’d seen unlikely people do some pretty awful things, so he wasn’t surprised by it any more. He wanted to spare her that kind of cynicism.

  He smiled and changed the subject. “Listen. Grant and I will meet you for lunch at noon. Then afterward I can take you on the sightseeing flight I promised.”

  “Are you still up for that with your arm and all?”

  “I could fly that plane with two fingers. Besides, it’s a beautiful day for it.”