The man slowly nodded. “I’m fine. If you’re not charging me, can I go?”
“As far as I’m concerned. But you know how it works, I have to wait for your fingerprints to come back with no warrants and the facial recognition software to make sure you’re not a terrorist.”
The man seemed to relax. “Name’s Joe Small. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any warrants on me and I know I’m not a terrorist.”
Nick nodded. “Great, no hard feelings then?”
The man rubbed his head. “You did knock the shit out of my head on that bar. You been in the military?”
Nick smiled, “A while ago. How about you?”
The man leaned back in his chair. “I did four tours in Afghanistan. Work for private security now.” The man frowned. He realized he had said more than he intended.
Nick seemed to shrug it off. “I thought about going private.” Nick looked around the room and then lowered his voice. “I might not have a choice before much longer, you know what I mean? I seem to have trouble following the rules.” Nick got a wide grin.
The man smiled back.
Nick lowered his voice even more and asked, “The pay okay? Can you stay in the States? I’m not too keen on sand anymore.”
The man’s chest visually expanded with pride, “Not just anybody can go private. Military experience helps, but you need some special skills, you know? No offense.”
Nick tried to look disappointed. “Well, it was worth a shot. I’m going to have to find something. Like I said, I feel bad about earlier. I’ll check on that terrorist thing and then come back to let you go. I’ll pull what strings I can for you here; just keep me in mind if you get any openings.”
The man grinned and said, “You got a pen?”
Nick whipped out a small notebook, his pen, and slid them across the table.
“Call this number and tell him Joe Small said to give you a look.”
Nick took the notebook back and patted the man’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate that. Let me see what I can do for you.”
Jen chuckled and Chris asked, “Did that guy just give Nick his boss’ phone number?”
Jen answered, “I think he did.”
Detective Wayne Dunfee walked into the observation room. “I just got a call from Phillips at the FBI. It seems he has an interest in Nick’s two goons.” Wayne nodded at Chris. “Phillips is on his way over.”
Jen led Chris back to sit across from Nick’s desk. “Can I get you a soda or anything, Chris?”
Chris was focused on a man that had just entered the room and was talking to Wayne. Chris was sure the man was the top CIA agent in Lead, South Dakota. Chris turned to Jen with fear in his eyes. “I need Nick. That guy is CIA. He’s going to take me away.”
Jen glanced over and saw the man walking toward them. She straightened her shoulders and said, “Not until Nick says it’s okay.” Jen dialed Nick, “Get in here. CIA.”
The CIA man walked up to Chris and held out his hand. “Dr. Chris Larson? I am Agent Dalton Grant, CIA. I need you to come with me.”
Jen noticed Agent Grant put his hand on Chris’ shoulder. Chris flinched. Jen thought that Chris looked terrified.
Jen said, “Dr. Larson is currently in the custody of Detective Stryker. He can’t leave until Nick releases him.”
Agent Grant glanced at Jen and took a seat in Nick’s chair across from Chris. He placed his hands on the desktop and smiled at Chris. “Then we’ll wait for Detective Stryker.”
Agent Phillips of the FBI walked in the room and glanced at Jen. “Where is he?”
Jen shook her head, “He’s in the building and on his way back, have a seat.”
Jen walked over to Wayne’s desk and rolled her eyes.
Wayne asked, “Nick’s havin’ an alphabet soup party?”
“Apparently.”
Nick walked into the homicide room with a broad smile. Agent Dalton Grant stood and walked toward him. Nick and Dalton hugged. Dalton stepped back, “I wondered what had happened to you.”
Nick made a broad motion with his hand. “Chicago’s finest lets me hang out. I thought you were changing careers?”
Dalton grinned. “The CIA made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Agent Phillips stood, “I hate to interrupt the reunion, but we have to talk about your encounter today.”
Agent Grant added, “I need to take Dr. Larson with me.”
Nick pointed toward the conference room, “Gentlemen, I suggest we have Jen watch over Dr. Larson while we take a moment to chat.”
Dalton and Phillips looked at each other.
Phillips asked Dalton, “Who are you?”
Dalton answered, “Agent Dalton Grant, CIA. Who are you?”
Phillips answered, “Agent Stephen Phillips, FBI.”
Nick led Phillips and Dalton into the conference room and closed the door. Dalton leaned forward and pointed his index finger at Nick. “I don’t know how you figure into all of this, but I’m taking Dr. Larson, end of story.”
Phillips cleared his throat and leaned toward Dalton. “The FBI put the prints and facial recognition of these two bar goons on one of our priority lists. Before anyone goes anywhere, I’m going to hear this story from the beginning.”
Nick smiled at them both. “Obviously I’m at the low end of this totem pole, but at least for now, I’m the only one that Chris trusts.” He looked at Dalton. “Why do you need to take him?”
Dalton paused and then said, “Dr. Larson is a member of a research team that we believe is being attacked. I have been ordered to secure his safety.” Dalton looked at Phillips, “What two goons are you talking about and what kind of list are they on?”
Nick looked at Phillips. “I promise I’ll start this story at the beginning, but it would help to know who I have in the other room.”
Philips leaned his chair back, “You have Joe Small in the other room and you put Randy Grossman in the hospital. They work for a private security service with international customers. Recently we uncovered a connection to the Gambino family in New York. This security service has been used by international crime families for strategic missions, usually kidnappings, sometimes murders. They have access to sensitive technologies and unlimited resources. We’ve yet to nail them for anything.”
Nick looked at Dalton, “What real evidence is there that Dr. Larson’s team is under some kind of attack?”
Dalton stared at Nick. “Anything I say in this room stays here.”
Nick and Phillips both nodded.
Dalton said, “Dr. Larson’s coworker, Dr. Angel Sanchez, was kidnapped this morning. Her vehicle was cyber-jacked, two of my agents were fatally shot, and Dr. Sanchez’s locators were surgically removed. She is still missing. Apparently, Dr. Larson was nearly kidnapped earlier this morning.”
Nick added, “Did you know that Chris’ boss, Dr. Elliott Nobel, and some of the other team members are on that jet that is missing in Malaysia?”
Dalton blinked. “I didn’t know that.” Dalton leaned forward, “Why is Dr. Larson in Chicago with you?”
Nick knew Dalton quite well. Dalton had helped Nick when Nick discovered the CIA had staged the kidnapping of Elliott and the other scientists in Afghanistan. Nick was surprised that Dalton had stayed with the CIA.
Nick said, “Think back, Dalton. Elliott warned Chris something was wrong. He told Chris to fly here, find me, and trust no one. Who do you think he’s worried about?”
Dalton studied Nick’s face. “Don’t jump to conclusions.” Dalton turned to face Phillips. “What possible reason would the mob have to want a team of astrophysicists out of circulation? Why now? Do you know who these goons answer to?”
Phillips nodded. “I’m sure the FBI knows more than I’ve been told. My guess is that this group’s loyalties are to the highest bidder. Lately, that seems to be the international crime family.”
Nick smiled, “Would Joe Small’s boss’ phone number help you guys? He gave it to me in case I
needed a job.” Nick held up his small notebook.
Dalton and Phillips both said, “What?”
*****
Chris waited at Nick’s desk for Nick to finish in the conference room. Jen had finally given up trying to make small talk with him. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was already going on five o’clock. Chris’ cell phone rang. The caller ID displayed South Dakota State Police.
Chris glanced around and answered, “Yes?”
Angel’s voice came over the line, “Oh, thank God, you answered. Are you okay, Chris?”
Chris didn’t expect a call from Angel. “I’m fine. I just decided to come to Chicago.”
Angel paused. “You flew to Chicago? You don’t fly! What’s going on? I was kidnapped!”
Chris dropped the phone and hastily picked it up from the floor. Jen looked over and saw Chris pacing by Nick’s desk.
“You were kidnapped? When? Are you okay?” Chris sat down and listened as Angel explained what had happened to her. Chris’ heart was pounding. Everything today seemed like a nightmare that kept getting worse. One thing had just become crystal clear: how important Angel really was to him.
Elliott was on a missing jet and Angel had escaped kidnappers. His world was imploding and he didn’t know why.
Chris whispered, “Elliott sent me a message to come to Chicago. He told me not to trust anyone except this cop named Nick Stryker. Stryker says Elliott is worried about the CIA and now Elliott’s jet is missing.”
Angel didn’t know what to do. Why would Elliott be worried about the CIA? “Elliott’s jet is missing? What should I do Chris? The CIA is on their way to get me now. Two of their agents were killed by my kidnappers. I can assure you that it wasn’t the CIA that kidnapped me.”
“Angel, I’m confused. I just want you safe. Try to stay calm. Agent Grant is the top CIA guy in Lead. He’s here in Chicago to take me back. I’ll try to find out what I can and call you back.”
“I don’t have a phone! Chris, I’m afraid.”
Chris was afraid to let Angel hang up. He glanced toward the conference room.
“Stay on the line with me. Agent Grant can make sure we are able to keep in contact with each other. They owe us that much! Besides, he needs to know you have escaped.”
Chris burst open the door of the conference room where Phillips, Nick and Dalton were talking. He walked in and thrust his phone toward Dalton. “Were you going to tell me Angel had been kidnapped? Were you going to tell me that Elliott’s jet is missing? Here. You might want to talk to Angel. She escaped her kidnappers and is waiting for your guys to pick her up from the side of a highway. Some guy was shooting at her! You convince her that the CIA will keep her safe. Any cooperation you want from me will be contingent on me being able to talk to her at will. She needs a phone and I want her safe.”
Dalton looked shocked and took the phone from Chris. “This is Agent Grant, is this Dr. Sanchez? You’ve escaped?”
Dalton listened for a while and assured Angel they would stay in close contact. Dalton then used his phone to call Rex, who was on his way to Angel’s location as they spoke.
Rex said, “I’ll call you as soon as we debrief her.”
Dalton told Rex to get Angel a secure personal phone immediately.
Dalton looked at Chris. “You have my word that we’ll keep her safe. I need a little more time in here and then we’ll talk. There is a great deal going on Dr. Larson.”
Chris nodded at Nick and then left the room.
Nick said, “I have an idea. The kidnap team here has one guy in the hospital and their kidnap victim in Lead has escaped. It seems like this team is having a bad day. This might be a good time to make it worse. Their boss may not know any of this. I bet I can get hired by this guy; especially if I can promise them Chris.”
Chapter Eight
Agent Patton watched as the nurse injected Serum 7 into Dr. Gustoff Kyser’s vein. Kyser was glaring at them and fighting his restraints. The nurse finished and returned Gustoff’s sleeve to normal. Gustoff gave his head a brief shake.
“You have no right to subject me to this…this torture!”
Agent Patton made sure the video feed to Benson was live and checked his notes on his pad.
Gustoff spit at Agent Patton. “This is why everyone hates the United States. The arrogance of acting as if you rule the world.” Gustoff started to chuckle. “I just now see the irony of this.”
Agent Patton leaned forward. “And what is ironic about this?”
Gustoff smiled and paused. “You will see in due time. You will see.”
*****
Benson and Darren were watching the monitor in Benson’s office of Gustoff’s interrogation. Benson rubbed his hands over his face to mask his pain from the relentless cramping of his bleeding ulcer. Darren glanced at him, their eyes met, and Darren asked, “Can I get you something?”
Benson realized his health issue was not a secret anymore. “I’ll be fine. Let’s focus on Kyser.”
*****
Agent Patton seemed to be ignoring Gustoff until Gustoff’s chin dropped to his chest. Patton rolled his chair in closer. “For the record, could you state your name and profession, please?”
Gustoff’s eyes were closed, but he rolled his head up and said, “Gustoff M. Kyser, astrophysicist.”
Patton asked, “What project are you currently working on, Gustoff?”
“An electromagnetic beam penetration of the Earth’s magnetic fields.” Gustoff smiled.
Patton leaned closer, “Where is this research taking place?”
“Geneva.”
Patton asked, “Don’t you mean Malaysia?”
Gustoff smirked, “The DIANA project is in Malaysia. My project is in Geneva.”
Patton felt his heart quicken. “Where, precisely, is your lab in Geneva located?”
Gustoff smiled, “Underground, of course.”
Patton asked, “Are you talking about CERN, the Large Hadron Collider?”
Gustoff chuckled, “Of course not! That is simply a tourist attraction, a research lab. They are years from actual initiation.”
Patton swallowed, “You have another Super Collider in Geneva?”
Gustoff’s chin dropped to his chest.
Patton asked again, his voice louder, “You have another Super Collider in Geneva?”
Gustoff’s head bobbed back up. “Yes. Ours is ready.”
Gustoff’s head fell back to his chest.
Patton raised Gustoff’s chin with his hand and loudly asked, “Who is your investor?”
Gustoff remained motionless.
Patton slapped Gustoff’s face and yelled, “Who is your investor?”
Gustoff didn’t respond. Patton shook Gustoff’s shoulders and then placed his index and middle fingers on Gustoff’s neck.
Patton turned to face the video camera and shook his head.
Benson hit the intercom for the Executive Director’s assistant. “I need to see him now.”
An hour later, Benson took the elevator back down to his office floor. His meeting with the Executive Director went as he predicted: poorly. The Director ordered a multi-agency search of Geneva for the underground lab. He also instructed Interpol to identify and arrest the team of astrophysicists that Dr. Gustoff Kyser had been working with. The United States has no authority to make either of those requests. During Benson’s meeting with the Director, notification of Kyser’s Russian citizenship was publically posted. Kyser’s death was still a secret. The Executive Director stated that deals would have to be made in the future to repay the favors being requested today; deals that the CIA wouldn’t want to make.
Benson grabbed Darren’s bottle of TUMS from his desktop and took it with him into his office. Darren reached into his bottom drawer, pulled out another, and placed it on the corner of his desk. Benson’s failure to say anything spoke volumes. The situation was getting worse.
Darren knocked on Benson’s door as he entered. “Sir, the con
trol center has some activity they need to show you.”
Benson stood in the amphitheater room as a monitor filled the north wall displaying the Earth surrounded by thousands of satellites. The Control Manager pointed to four red dots on the monitor. “I am going to show you a time lapse of the last two hours, sir. Watch the red dots.”
Benson watched as the four red dots appeared to be slowly aligning with each other. “What am I looking at?”
The Control Manager turned to face him. “These satellites have been dormant for over a year. We’ve been watching them. Mild communication beam activity is all we have determined. Two hours ago, they each broke their orbits and began to form this configuration. We are working on identifying and tracking their communication source, sir.”
Benson wasn’t sure he understood the problem. “Satellites change orbit all of the time. What’s so special about this?”
“Sir, these are conductor satellites that are not registered with the International Council. We have sent our own satellite to get a closer look. Preliminary reports and photos show the base shells have opened exposing booster components. Sir, we have similar boosters in our military weapons program.”
“I want to be clear about what you are suggesting: these are weapons?”
The Control Manager replied, “They certainly appear to be weapons, sir.”
Benson asked, “Why haven’t we tracked their source yet?”
The Control Manager answered, “Their communication source is quite sophisticated. We now believe it is actually hidden within one of our codes.”
Benson walked toward the screen. This was no coincidence. “Check the DIANA code. It’s buried there.”
The Control Manager’s brows rose. “DIANA? That’s a lab project, sir. It seems more likely to be hidden within one of our defense codes.”
Benson knew he was right, he could feel it. “It’s in the DIANA code. Check first for variations from the Lead code to the Malaysian code. That’s how you’ll find it. Find out who owns those satellites and tell them we’re blowing them to Mars if they don’t explain their purpose!”
Zero Margin: Nick Stryker, Book Three The Shallow End Gals (Nick Stryker Series 3) Page 7
