could get anyone beyond myself involved. Your case offers an interesting challenge and I offer my undivided attention.”
“What do you charge, Mr. Palmer?” Al asked gruffly, perturbed that the subject of money had been broached. He would gladly pay anything to get his family back, but he never expected to be dealing with a mercenary when Palmer was invited to advise him.
“There’s a reason for my question, Senator,” Palmer said, sensing his umbrage. “Believe me, you do not want your fingerprints on what I’m about to set in motion, sir. What I’m offering is deniability. If there’s even a hint of conspiracy or collusion regarding the deployment of covert government resources, you’ll want to truthfully testify that you had no knowledge of any impropriety- especially in your capacity as chairman of the Intelligence Committee. By hiring my firm at the going rate, you’ll successfully avoid any perception of impropriety. While I’m not considered beyond reproach by many of my contemporaries, I have assembled a credible private detective agency that will provide a suitable cover. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, I understand, Mr. Palmer. Please forgive my indignation,” Al replied. “What’s the going rate to retain your services?”
“A thousand dollars a day, plus expenses…times two missing persons,” he replied. “I need my standard retainer of $5,000 to begin. I’ll have my office assistant draft a contract and send it right over.”
“Ben, I’ll need the contact information for Lieutenant Morris and Agent Henry. I’ll make a call and see how we can begin to fit in without stepping on any toes.”
“Try not to worry, Senator. You’ll have the most experienced personnel in the country looking for your family,” he said reassuringly.
“Thank you, Mr. Palmer,” Al said, warmly embracing his hand as they each stood to conclude the meeting. “I feel an overwhelming sense of relief knowing you’ll be involved. Here, let me give you a check before you leave.”
“Not necessary, sir. That can be handled when the contract is delivered. Just be sure to inform me the minute you hear about a ransom…or anything else. Here’s my private number,” he said, handing Ben his card.
Emerson Palmer left the senator’s office feeling more alive than he had in a dozen years. He was frankly amazed that Ben Dare somehow had known to contact him, but chalked it up to mere coincidence. No one knew about his connection to the most notorious organization in the annals of the United States government. He had been recruited early in his career to join this secret group, and he had never regretted his decision. It was explained to him early on that he would likely have no family, no close friends, and no professional colleagues as a result of his secret involvement as a cleaner, all of which had come true. But he eagerly made this choice, sacrificing a stable private life and his future career in the government in exchange for the promise of helping to protect the American way of life in ways that were beyond all comprehension. Reflecting on that fateful decision never gave him pause; he’d make the same decision again today and twice on Sunday.
His participation as a cleaner had made it impossible to adhere to the government party line and ultimately cost him his position in the Secret Service, even though his role as an agent was really just a cover to begin with. His detective agency now provided that suitable cover when his special expertise was requested by the Executive Office.
Palmer had been cautious not to show any recognition of the men already investigating the Coscarelli case when they were mentioned in the senator’s office. But the minute he heard that Jason Henry from DOD was involved, he knew for certain someone high up in the government was keenly interested in this new technology. Jason Henry was a cleaner. They had a long association together. Palmer figured it was just a matter of time before the team was convened to discuss what Agent Henry was tracking.
I wonder what’s really behind all this, Emerson thought. With Jason involved, one of the joint chiefs must really have a bug up his butt about Dr. Conrad’s technology. I can’t wait to find out what’s really going on. It’s been way too long…hell, yeah, we may finally have a job brewing!
FORTY-FOUR
Stanford University
10:30 HOURS
Niles Penburton was beside himself. The fact that Special Agent Henry was probing his personal records meant without a doubt that he was considered a suspect in everything that was taking place. He was beginning to feel like a dupe, loathing the day he first heard from Alastair Holloway. Why hadn’t he followed his intuition, which told him Holloway wasn’t the white knight he professed himself to be?
Before Holloway came into the picture, he was sitting on top of the world: He was co-owner of a prestigious research firm at Stanford University, and a tenured professor with a partner about to introduce the world’s first antigravity machine. How could he have been so foolish as to fall prey to the easy money that Holloway had offered? My God, I’ve been so stupid, he thought. It’s time to cut my losses. I’ve got to tell Holloway our deal’s off; the situation is way out of hand. I’m done playing the fool for this guy.
Niles sat in his corner office looking out across the Stanford campus, indulging his favorite pastime. He would need to marshal all his fortitude to make one of the most difficult calls of his life. He knew that Holloway would vigorously object to his change of heart at the eleventh hour, but nevertheless, his mind was made up. He was done being the fall guy in Holloway’s master plan.
After the call to Holloway, he decided he’d head directly to the airport and board the first plane out of the country. He had $10 million of Holloway’s money, and he figured to just disappear and live a life of comfort in the Mediterranean, maybe somewhere in Greece. Whatever happened next, he was finished being Holloway’s patsy.
“What is it now?” Holloway replied briskly, answering his cell phone.
“Alastair…we’ve got a major problem,” Niles started. “I’ve been contacted by Agent Henry from DOD again. He’s demanding I release all my personal records. He considers me a suspect, for chrissake!” His voice was rising to a shriek.
“Alright, easy now…we figured this might happen. The key is to keep your head and not appear to be panicking,” Holloway responded, calmly trying to assess the gist of the problem.
“Well, that’s all well and good for you, Alastair…you don’t have a special agent from the Defense Department breathing down your neck, asking to see personal records…it’s a bit more problematic for me. I’m through with this whole business. I want the rest of my money and you can clean up this mess you’ve created,” he said, less tactfully than he had originally intended.
“Listen to me, you idiot! No one walks out on a deal with me. It’s too late for that. What’s got you so spooked?”
“Agent Henry knows someone close to Conrad is at the root of everything. He’s linked the Quantum theft with that travesty over at Livermore, and now that Jarrod’s missing, he suspects me. He wants to see my personal records-phone, financial, tax returns, you name it. Christ, what do you expect me to do? I didn’t agree to any of this. In fact, you specifically promised to keep me out of all this. You broke our deal as far as I’m concerned.”
“Calm down, goddamnit,” Holloway replied. “Don’t you see this Agent Henry’s on a fishing expedition? He’s got nothing linking you to any of this.”
“Wrong! There’s plenty to link me to this. For starters, there’s the $10 million you advanced me to buy out Conrad’s share of Quantum, not to mention the dozens of phone calls between the two of us the past year. He’s going to put it all together. I’m not going to jail for the murder of innocent people I had nothing to do with.”
“Would you fucking calm down? You’re not thinking clearly. First, the money was sent to a personal Swiss account in your name… it’s untraceable. Second, the only links between you and me are phone records that can be easily explained: You are exploring contracting with Triton Energy to design the manufacturing capacity for Conrad’s machine…just like we planned. Now I want you to just chill out and keep your head; there’s no reason to panic,” Holloway said reassuringly.
“You’re setting me up, aren’t you?” Niles interjected, a bolt of enlightenment spearing his consciousness. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? When this is all over, the evidence will put the blame squarely on me. Well,
