began to water and I could feel the dust filling my lungs. The contamination got so thick I could barely see across the room. Just as I was about to suggest we evacuate my office, Tortoff pushed a button on the Eliminator. There was a flash of light and suddenly the room was clear. Agent Lot coughed once more and then looked around the room seemingly in shock.
"Whoa! That's incredible," Lot declared.
"Yes. Rather impressive, isn't it," Tortoff agreed.
"So, is there a danger someone could reverse engineer the Eliminator?"
"Probably not entirely, but it could greatly accelerate anyone's research in this area. We would very much like to get the prototype back."
"Is there any chance I could borrow this prototype so my people could photograph it and get its specifications? It might help in recovery the first prototype."
"Yes. We figured you'd want to do that, so you are welcome to take this one with you. There's complete documentation and schematics in the box."
Agent Lot's mouth fell open. "Oh. Okay. I really appreciate that. We'll get it back to you as soon as possible."
Tortoff shook his head. "Take your time. No hurry," he said.
Agent Lot thanked him, and with Tortoff's assistant's help, took the Eliminator out to his car. When he was gone I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Tortoff.
"How do you know he'll pass the Eliminator on to the Army?" I asked.
"I've been negotiating a sale of the device to the Army with Colonel Martinez at the Pentagon. I was scheduled to go by there tomorrow and give them a demonstration. Before I came here today, I called him and told him I'd have to cancel our meeting since the FBI would be in possession of the Eliminator prototype for a while."
"Oh. I see. When Martinez goes to the FBI to check out the device he'll find everything the Pentagon needs to reproduce it."
"Exactly, but the Pentagon won't let anyone know they have the technology and the FBI will give me back the prototype just like nothing happened."
For a moment I just stared at Tortoff thinking how clever he and Kulchz were. Then I wondered how many American children it had cost to acquire this new technology. I had no idea the number of children that had been taken each year for the Tarizon Repopulation Project, but I suspected it was in the hundreds of thousands. After all what good would the infusion of any fewer children do to a dying planet? There would have to be hundreds of thousands for there to be any significant impact on the population. Suddenly I felt sick. How could I continue to be part of this sinister project? Was the fact that I'd been recruited under duress keep me from going to hell? Somehow I doubted it.
My soul searching was interrupted when Maria stepped in my office and told me Martha Thomas was on the line. I was glad because I'd been trying to contact her about letting Tehra and her friends stay at her ranch for a while. We talked for a while about old times before I broached the subject.
"Listen, the reason I called is I need a favor."
"Anything," Martha replied. "You know I'd do anything for you."
"There are some visitors from out of the country who are trying to defect. There government will be very upset when they do it. They need to disappear for a week or two until the dust settles. Your ranch would be perfect."
"Are they communists?" she asked.
"I can't say where they're from for security reasons, but, needless to say, their government will try to find them to prevent the defection and to punish them for attempting it. It could be dangerous for you to keep them."
"That's okay. I'd be honored to help them. It's not every day that you get an opportunity to help someone get their freedom."
"Thank you, Martha. You're a good person. I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe. If there is any damage to your ranch, I'll make it good. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried. I trust you, Stan. You know that."
I told Martha I'd contact her when the time came and then hung up. Maria immediately came on the intercom to advise me that Gary Shepard was on the line. I was curious as to why Shepard was calling. It was unusual for him to call me directly. I picked up the phone.
"Stan. That was pretty slick the way you emptied your safety deposit box the other day right under our noses. I'm not going to ask you how you did it, since I know you wouldn't tell us anyway."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "What safety deposit box?"
"Okay, play dumb if you want. I just wanted to give you a heads up. We're going to find out how Charlotte Wenzel was able to post a quarter million dollar bond whether you voluntarily tell us or not. We've checked her financial situation and know good and well she didn't have that kind of money. She's obviously got a sugar daddy that’s supporting her and we want to question him. He'd certainly have a motive for killing Mr. Wenzel, don't you think—so he could have Charlotte all to himself?"
"Assuming you're right, what's his motive for killing the children?"
"It might have been an accident or they were a distraction that he could do without."
“And you think Charlotte would sleep with the man who killed her children, accidently or intentionally?”
“Ah . . . well—”
"Come on. You're wasting your time," I said. "You’re not going to find out the source of Charlotte Wenzel's bond. Charlotte and I are the only two people who know where the bond money came from, and neither of us has any obligation to tell you. Roger Rand knows nothing as you already found out."
"There are other ways to find out," Shepard replied.
"Why do you even care? Hell, half the bonds posted these days come from drug sales or other criminal enterprises."
"The person who gave you the money for the bond obviously knows something about Mr. Wenzel's disappearance," Shepard said. "If you're withholding the identity of a material witness, I'll charge you with obstruction of justice."
Shepard's threats didn't bother me. After all, Kulchz would, no doubt, qualify for diplomatic immunity. He clearly was a guest of the United States government and protected by whatever treaty Tarizon and the United States were operating under. Fortunately, Shepard was too stubborn to realize he was at a dead end. I just hoped he'd continue down his little rabbit trail. It was a great distraction.
38
Death Sentence
Paula Waters
With less than a week before Walter Stanley was to go on trial for the murder of the Brown family, we still didn't have that last piece of crucial evidence to give us a fighting chance at proving our theory about the death of Chester and Gladys Brown and their three children. Paul Thayer's canvas of the neighborhood had failed to find anyone who had seen any of the Almatech security team near the Brown home on or before the tragic fire.
The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was getting stronger each day and harder to ignore. My last hope for any new evidence rested with Simon Barber. He had assured me that if there was any evidence of Almatech's involvement in the Brown murder he'd find it. So, far he'd come up with nothing, but on several occasions he had said he was close to a breakthrough. I didn't know what that meant and he wouldn't elaborate. He just kept saying, "Trust me."
As I was about to take a break and go to lunch, he finally called. "Paula. Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No," I said. "I was just going to grab a salad at the deli downstairs."
"Good," Barber said. "Let me swing by and I'll treat you to something better than a salad."
Since I hated eating alone, I jumped at the offer. He told me to meet him downstairs in front of the building in ten minutes. When I asked him if he had anything for me, he said he couldn't talk about it over the phone. After I hung up I went to the ladies’ room to freshen up and then took the elevator to the lobby. He was already parked in front of the building when I walked out. As I strolled to his black BMW, I prayed he had some good news.
After a little chit-chat he got to the purpose of our meeting. "I'm sorry it took so long, but my source had a lot of trouble getting what
you were looking for. It seems Stout's security team is off the company books. There was nothing in the company files about them."
"How can that be? They must be funded somehow."
"Yes. It took us a while to figure it out. They actually work for a private security firm, Tripact Security. Almatech pays them $300,000 per year plus expenses. Unfortunately, there are no security team records in the possession of Almatech except a detailed invoice each month. We almost missed it, but on one of those invoices there was a taxi fare to Golden Cab Company on the day before the fire. We've checked with the company and we were able to get a record of three of the security team being transported to the Sheraton Hotel at Coit and LBJ in Dallas. That's just down the street from the diner where the GTE truck was taken."
"Three members?"
"Right."
"Hmm. That's quite a coincidence. Which three?"
"The receipt doesn't say, but the funny thing is, the flight log only shows Colonel Walls and Lisa Andretti coming to Dallas."
"Interesting. I wonder who else was on that flight."
"I don't know, but I suspect you'll figure it out. When you do, don't forget our deal."
"I won't. You'll get your story. Don't worry."
By the time I got back to my office my spirits had risen immensely. I told Stan and Bart the good news and then went to my office to work on my opening statement and trial outline. I was excited now and, for the first time, anxious for the trial to begin. My only worry now was that Stout might somehow find out that he and Almatech were
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