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Sedona Conspiracy

Page 22

by James C. Glass


  “Morning, Gil. Good to see you again.” Arthur shook his hand. “You know my aid. He’ll be taking some notes so I’ll remember what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Hi Len,” said Gil; Len smiled faintly, and sat down on a leather couch.

  “I appreciate your time, Mister President.”

  Arthur sat down behind his desk, and then Gil sat down. “Sounds like things have really been heating up,” said The President.

  “We’re getting close. The flight test is the end of the week. They’ll be going for a hundred thousand feet and what Eric Price is calling hyper-flight. I don’t know what that means, and Eric claims he doesn’t either. He just expects Sparrow to achieve extreme speed.”

  “That man has been quite a surprise,” said Arthur. “We sent him there to find and eliminate a saboteur, and instead he’s become a chief scientist for the project. How did that happen?”

  “I don’t know, and neither does Eric. The insights come to him in bursts. He thinks he’s been somehow programmed with hypnosis or even telepathy. A woman he’s been seeing could be involved, but we’ve checked her out and she seems totally clean. There has been an attempt on Eric’s life, but we feel he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Johnson was his prime contact at the base, and was trying to tell him something; Johnson’s assassin was still there when Eric arrived; we figured he tried to kill two for the price of one.”

  “And the killer is still on the loose.”

  “He is, but we’re not aware of any new sabotage. The project has been moving ahead quickly. We’ve been checking out one suspicious individual who is bribing personnel for information on the project, but we can’t find anything on him, even a birth record. The man claims to represent corporate interests. Quite frankly, Mister President, I think Eric Price knows more about him, but is holding back. And I think his explanation for his scientific accomplishments is a bit convenient. His knowledge could only have come from our foreign associates, but if Eric has made contact with them he’s not telling me about it.”

  “Are you telling me he’s unreliable? Do you want to recall him?”

  “Not at all, Mister President. He’s doing his job. I’ve always had a policy of giving field agents free hand in day-to-day operations. If Eric isn’t telling me something, he has his reasons. And his achievements in moving Shooting Star ahead have been outstanding.”

  “Success of the project is what this is all about, Gil. If the man has your trust, he has mine. Is there anything else I should know about?”

  “No, Mister President. That’s all I have for now. I’ll call after the test flight. That’ll be early Saturday or Sunday morning.”

  Arthur stood up, and Gil stood with him. Arthur walked around the desk and shook hands with his old friend again.

  “I’m encouraged, Gil. Things were stumbling along until we got your man in there. I’m amazed at how much he stirred up in such a short time. But it’s hard for me to find the words to express how important this project is to me, and to humanity, for that matter. If what we’ve been promised is true, we can go to the stars. The perspective of the entire human race could be changed overnight. This belongs to all of earth’s people, Gil, not just one nation.”

  “I agree,” said Gil, “and I think your attitude is the reason they brought Shooting Star to us in the first place, and not one of the other western countries.”

  Arthur squeezed Gil’s hand again. “And I don’t intend to betray that trust, old friend,” he said. You think you understand, but you don’t, he thought.

  “Anything I can do, call me.” Arthur took Gil by the elbow, led him to the door. “Say hi to Jean for me.”

  “She misses the quiet dinners we used to have,” said Gil.

  “We’ll have them again, after I survive this second term.”

  The door closed, and Gil was gone. Len sat on the couch, an empty note pad on his lap. He looked expectant. Arthur’s expression was suddenly serious. “Okay, let’s get our Mister Brown in here and find out what’s really going on.”

  Len left the office. Arthur returned to his desk, sat down, and riffled some pages of a folder without seeing them. He checked his appointment calendar and made a few doodles on a notepad.

  There was a soft knocking on the door, and it opened. Len leaned inside and said,” Mister Brown is here, Mister President.”

  “Send him in, Len, and please wait outside.”

  A tall man came into the room. The dark blue business suit he wore had been carefully tailored for him. Eye-candy for my receptionist, thought Arthur. At the doorway, the man bowed, and clicked his heels together as the door closed behind him.

  Arthur stood. “Vasyl, it’s good to see you again. I’ve just been hearing good things about our project. Please, sit down.”

  Vasyl sat. “There have been problems, but we’re gradually working through them.”

  “I’ve been particularly interested in the progress made by an operative of ours named Eric Price,” said Arthur.

  Vasyl smiled. “Yes, he has created quite a stir.”

  “How so? I’ve read the man’s file. No doubt he’s a fine scientist, in addition to his more violent skills, but I find it hard to explain the breakthroughs he’s achieved in such a short time. Surely you’ve been feeding him information you couldn’t trust other people with.”

  “We have, sir.”

  “But why? There were others you could trust, like Johnson. The lack of information transfer has slowed progress to a crawl until now.”

  “Johnson was murdered, sir, because we gave him key information directly and by ordinary means, and he was unable to keep it to himself. We didn’t want the same thing to happen again. Price has been advised subliminally and with key words or visual patterns to bring information to a conscious level when needed.”

  “But why Price?”

  Vasyl smiled. “Because he’s one of us.”

  “WHAT?”

  “An incredible coincidence, I know. And Price has no knowledge of his heritage. One of our people was the first to see it at a party Price attended. I’m afraid her attraction to him is a bit of a problem right now, but she has been our information conduit and we have to trust her. Price seems quite taken with her.”

  Arthur was amazed. “What webs we’ve woven here, even without knowing it. But when you get down to it, we’re all the same people.”

  “Watt is also one of us, sir, but I do not claim him. Now he’s dropped out of sight, and we anticipate more sabotage or worse. I’ll spare you the details, but there has been more than one attempt on Price’s life, and with the flight test only days away we’re expecting another. There was an attempt to place a bomb on the star craft just yesterday. I have only a few cloaked personnel, barely enough to cover the star craft and portal bays, and then there was a kidnap attempt on one of our people in town, the woman Price is attracted to.

  “I have three people with cloaking capability to cover all our town operatives, including Price. I need four times that, and I need a visible permanent force at the base. Davis is not cooperating. He insists our people must leave at the end of each working day, and the guarding of the bays is hopelessly inadequate. Davis says he will not tolerate the continuous presence of foreign troops in his command.”

  “You want me to order it? Officially I haven’t even been informed about this project. The Pentagon sees it as a minor issue of technology transfer from turncoats. Only a few even know how advanced that technology might be.”

  “Including the man who just walked out of your office,” said Vasyl.

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s in charge of your deepest security operations. He could make a request. You wouldn’t have to know details. It would be a diplomatic gesture to a friendly, foreign power.”

  “I’ve known Gil a long time. Hell, I trained him, and I know what he’ll say. The presence of foreign troops on a highly classified base is a bad precedent. Why not order Davis to use his own people, and stiffen up the guar
d for the project?”

  Vasyl sighed, and shook his head. “We don’t trust his people. Watt has been spreading money around like butter, and he’s infiltrated their ranks just like we have. When something happens, Watt knows it within hours, and we’ve only identified a couple of his sources. I need to have our own people there, in force, and before the flight test.”

  Arthur leaned back in his chair, and drummed the fingers of one hand on his desk for a moment. He fixed his gaze on Vasyl, and then said, “I realize I’m a bit out of practice in the clandestine world, but I hear you telling me that Watt and his followers might attack the base with considerable force of arms.”

  “It’s a real possibility, sir. We have to be ready for it, at least for the next two weeks. Flight-testing has to be done in two stages, or we could lose the star craft, and it would take us years to bring in another. Governments come and go, and our next one might cancel the entire project.”

  “Only a fool would do that.” Arthur rocked in his chair, and studied Vasyl’s face. The man was calm, but his eyes betrayed the anxiety within him. Arthur had known him for nearly two years, but they had met formally on only three occasions. Vasyl had the good looks and manners to charm anyone, but he had the daring of a combat officer and the attention to detail of an accountant. Arthur liked him.

  “All right, I’ll talk to Gil right away. Everyone will know the order has come down from me. We don’t have time for arguments.”

  Vasyl visibly relaxed. “Thank you, sir. I realize this is a political risk for you.”

  “Blowing my nose in public is a political risk, Vasyl. Everything is headline news in this country.”

  “Our people will never be seen outside the portal and support bays, and they’ll be dressed as American marines. When should I activate them?”

  “Give me until midnight. If I haven’t called, then do it.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I really appreciate what you’ve done, Vasyl, and the personal sacrifices you’ve made for us. It’s hard to spend an entire tour of duty away from family. Any children?”

  “One girl. She just turned four. I’ve been collecting dolls for her—and some jewelry for my wife.”

  “Well, this will all be wrapped up soon, the way things are going, and we’ll see you back at home. Maybe I’ll get a chance to visit you there someday. I should get back to the Old Country at least once. My people came here so long ago there’s probably no family of mine left across the big sea anymore, but it couldn’t hurt to look.”

  Arthur stood up, signaling that the audience with The President had ended. Vasyl stood, and the men shook hands. Arthur walked him to the door.

  “We’re making history, Vasyl,” said Arthur. “Unfortunately, the public might never know the who or the how, only that suddenly we can travel to the stars. I think that’s a good thing.”

  “I agree,” said Vasyl.

  Arthur opened the door for him, and clapped him on the back. “Then let’s do it,” he said, and Vasyl went away.

  Arthur returned to his desk and took a cell phone from a drawer, punched in numbers and listened.

  “Gil?” he said softly. “Something has come up, and I need you back in my office right away. I hope it’s not too inconvenient.”

  He laughed. “Ah, good. See, there’s an advantage to slow cab service on occasion. Give me ten minutes, and come right in.”

  Arthur hung up, punched a button on his intercom. “Dorothy? Gilbert Norton will be returning soon. Send him right in when he arrives.”

  The President of the United States took pen and legal pad, and began scribbling an order with language terse enough to make even the toughest Pentagon obstructionist obey without argument.

  He was still scribbling when Gil arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  VISITORS

  The more Leon searched, the more he worried. John Coulter had dropped off the face of the planet only days after giving Eric a substantial amount of money and talking about assignments. Coulter knew that Eric and Leon were close. Leon expected a call from him, an assignment, maybe even another unmarked envelope stuffed with fifty-dollar bills. He waited a week, and then called the cell number Coulter had given him. There was no answer, so he left a message. He sent e-mail to the address on Coulter’s business card, but it was returned immediately with the admonition ‘user doesn’t exist’. In retrospect, that was the first warning that something had gone wrong.

  For over two weeks, he’d roamed the streets mornings and late afternoons in search of Coulter’s black Mercedes. Those wasted hours were only added to by repeated phone calls that went unanswered. The man had disappeared. Something had spooked him. It had to have something to do with the meeting Eric had had with him, but Eric remembered nothing unusual. Coulter had told him what he wanted, and paid him handsomely for it.

  Leon made inquiries with any person he knew had seen Coulter in the past. He went to the Coffee Pot, Shari’s, The Planet, described the man who’d been there before with Leon. Nobody had seen him. He even asked Nataly, thinking Coulter might have come to her shop when Eric was there. Nataly hadn’t seen the man, didn’t know who he was. She looked away from Leon when she said it, distracted by something.

  “When you see Eric, tell him I came in to flirt with you.”

  “I haven’t seen him for a while, Leon. We’ve both been busy.”

  Something in her tone of voice bothered him. “You two okay?” he asked, and meant it as a friend.

  Nataly smiled faintly, put a hand on his arm. “I think we’re trying to figure that out.”

  “Well, don’t take too long.”

  Nataly patted his arm. “I’ll keep an eye open for your friend, and let him know you’re looking for him.”

  Leon left her in a dark mood, and went back to his office after another fruitless drive around town. He was surprised to find Eric there, clacking away at a keyboard.

  “I thought you’d be at the base today.”

  “Nope. I go in tomorrow morning. I’ll be spending the night there before the flight.”

  Leon sat down. “Still no Coulter. I’ve asked all around. Maybe he changed cars.”

  “Maybe he’s sick, or dead,” said Eric.

  “Right. Maybe you’d better take it seriously. My stomach is crawling. Something is up.”

  “Either that or Coulter has skipped town. I have enough to think about right now.”

  “That’s sort of what Nataly told me today.”

  “What?” Eric stopped typing, and looked at him, eyes narrowed. When he looked like that, Leon always felt hairs moving on the back of his neck.

  “She said you’ve both been very busy lately. She sounded kinda sad.”

  Eric’s smile could be nasty when he wanted it to be. “You in love with her, Leon?”

  “No, but if I was I’d sure be with her a lot more than you are. And if you hurt her you’ll see what a royal shit I can really be.”

  “Threat noted,” said Eric, and went back to typing. After a few seconds, he looked at Leon again. “Sorry. I’m sensitive about Nataly right now. We’re taking a little break to cool down.”

  “That’s stupid,” said Leon, and went to his desk.

  “Maybe,” said Eric, and began typing again.

  They worked the rest of the afternoon without talking. Eric finished his work first, and turned off his computer. “I’m going home early and going to bed early. I’ll call you if I live through the flight.”

  “Good luck,” said Leon, and didn’t look up. The door closed, and Eric was gone.

  A few minutes later the telephone rang, and Leon answered it.

  It was John Coulter.

  “Well, hello. I’ve called you a couple of times. What’s up?”

  “I just got back from Phoenix. Something has come up, and I need your advice about it before I do anything foolish.”

  “That sounds ominous. What’s the problem?”

  “It has to do with someone we both do bus
iness with. We have to meet. I don’t want to talk about it on the phone.”

  “I’m about finished here. Where, and when?”

  “How about your house? I don’t want to meet in public.”

  “You have my address?”

  “Sure. I know where it is. I’ve been by there on my way to the canyons.”

  “Okay.” Leon looked at his watch. “I have four-twenty now. Meet me at my house at five. Just pull up to the gate, and I’ll buzz you in.”

  “I’ll be there,” said Coulter, and hung up.

  So Coulter had been out of town, and Leon had been wasting a lot of time searching in the wrong place for him. The problem he wanted to talk about had to be Eric. Shit. Whoever employed Coulter had probably become suspicious when Eric wanted to deal with him directly. I can think of a way to explain that: Eric is an asshole who hates authority and makes end runs when he doesn’t get his way. The money will make him back off. He loves it. What else can I say?

  Leon thought about it for several minutes, then shut down his computer and locked up the office. The Humvee’s tank was nearly empty from the entire fruitless running around. He gassed up a block away from the office, drove four more blocks south and turned west towards the Canyons on Dry Creek Road. Out of habit, he watched his rear-view mirror every time he made a turn.

  A black van turned with him, and was following five car lengths behind. Leon sped up, and the van kept its distance. He slowed to the speed limit and kept it there. It was only a few minutes before he reached his house. Coulter’s black Mercedes wasn’t there. Leon put on his turn signal to make a left turn and pressed on the gate activator above his head. He slowed, and the black van slowed behind him, coming close. Now Leon could see the man who drove the van.

  It was John Coulter.

  Leon turned into his driveway, and Coulter followed. They parked up close to the garage. Coulter got out of the van before Leon had shut off his engine.

  Leon got out of the Humvee. “What happened to the Mercedes?”

  “In a shop in Phoenix. The van is a loaner. This will only take a few minutes, Leon.”

  “So let’s go inside.”

 

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