important laptop computer and hurried to power up the computers to bring everything online.
Ye…ye…yessir, right away,” he replied meekly. Mills was completely out of his element; his hands were shaking and he was wriggling like a small child about to pee his pants. He sensed Kilmer wouldn’t hesitate to cut his throat when he had finally served his purpose.
Jarrod was amazed by the efficiency of Kilmer’s men. They had only arrived moments before and already a man was connecting the overhead power lines to a drop cable that ran directly into the antigravity device. Mills began elevating the focal array as self-leveling outriggers balanced the trailer. Under normal circumstances he would be excited to see what his machine could do, but his only thought now was how to bring it down. Time was running out-this was the moment of truth.
Agent Jason Henry and Emerson Palmer were in close pursuit of the convoy but stayed a safe distance back to avoid being identified as a tail. When the Kenworth dump truck slowed and parked about two miles from the base entrance, they passed it by, determined to stay close to the antigravity machine and the twenty pounds of plutonium it contained.
Their mission was clear: General Blake Freeman had ordered them to allow full activation of the machine, but to take charge before the depository was breached. Supposedly, they would be joined in opposing the assault by the base security, which included the Army Third Cavalry with their M-1 Abrams Tank Brigade. Without direct communication from the base, they still had no idea how this would be accomplished. Their experience as cleaners, however, dictated they follow Freeman’s orders and trust that the base commander would intercede at the right time.
Henry drove on fast approach to the delivery gate that only a moment before had admitted the Peterbilt carrying Dr. Conrad and his antigravity machine. The MPs judged his vehicle’s excessive speed and screeching halt at the gate as a hostile act. The first guard stepped from the guardhouse with weapon drawn. There was no mistaking from the man’s combative look that he was ready for a battle.
“Put your hands on the dash where I can see them,” the guard shouted, pointing the gun steadily at Henry with both hands. As he covered the driver, the second MP took a position behind the vehicle to cover the two occupants from the rear.
Henry was infuriated by the delay. He hadn’t expected a confrontation with the guards, but recognized that the time of night and the way he approached the gate gave the MP little latitude in response. “Corporal, I’m with the DOD,” Henry urgently bellowed through the closed window. “We have an emergency! The depository is under attack by the truck that just passed through…there’s no time to spare.”
The first MP never blinked or wavered; he continued pointing his sidearm at Henry, ready to act upon any false move. “Sir, I advise you…keep your hands visible. The base commander is aware of the training exercise. We have no knowledge of DOD intervention.”
“Jesus Christ, man…call your superiors! I’m not fucking around. The vault will be under attack in minutes… it’s no exercise. We don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“Charlie, call Captain Yates,” the first MP yelled to his partner. “See if he knows anything about DOD attending the training exercise.”
“Okay, sir, I’m going to open your door. I want you alone to step out of the car. Your passenger will keep his hands on the dash. If he moves an inch, I’ll be forced to shoot. Are we clear?”
“Understood, Corporal…but you’re making a big mistake. Let me get my ID and we can clear this up.”
“One thing at a time, sir. When you exit the car, place your hands on the back of your head.”
Henry obeyed the MP’s instruction. Once outside the vehicle, the MP frisked him and promptly confiscated his weapon.
“Show me an ID, sir,” he said, taking a giant stride back.
Henry slowly reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a leather bi-fold containing his badge and DOD identification. He presented it to the corporal for closer inspection.
“Charlie…we’ve got Special Agent Jason Henry from DOD… what the hell’s going on?” he asked with a look of embarrassment on his face. He handed back the ID and gun, realizing he’d made a serious mistake detaining the agent.
“I’m terribly sorry, Agent Henry,” Sergeant Charlie Kolbe said as he walked from the guard shack. “Captain Yates cleared these men; in fact, they are part of the exercise. We apologize for the inconvenience, sir.”
“Inconvenience, my ass, Sergeant. The next time someone shows up at your gate claiming to be DOD, give them the benefit of the doubt before shaking them down. Now open the goddamned gate!”
“Right away, sir.”
“There’s a second truck coming,” Henry warned. “That one you’ll stop at all costs. It’s a big dump truck hauling a skip loader. They do not get through, understand? Now, call the base commander. Tell him the mission is going down right now. Get everyone out there… move!”
“Yes, sir…we’re on it, sir.”
The Brandenburg Gate to Fort Knox opened for the second time, admitting Agent Henry and Emerson Palmer to the base. They sped past the guardhouse in hot pursuit of Dr. Conrad, not knowing what to expect. Henry took small consolation in knowing that whatever lay ahead would finally bring an end to his maddening effort to solve this case. Who would have ever believed the trail that began at the Quantum Building in Stanford only days before would lead to Fort Knox? This one’ll be analyzed for years to come…
SIXTY-SIX
Ryan Marshall raced with David Morris from the Wildcat compound for the Explorer parked a short distance beyond Struffeneger’s house. Everything was moving too fast for Ryan to grasp. Being held captive, listening to the harrowing sound of Jeremiah being tortured, and then the surprise rescue had pushed the limits of his endurance. Never a person prone to histrionics, this was definitely one time when his coping skills were stretched beyond their limit. As they ran, it seemed as if he were in someone else’s body.
“I’ll drive,” Morris said, indicating with an outstretched hand for Ryan to yield his keys to the Explorer.
“Gladly,” Ryan replied.
Morris recognized that Ryan was shaking. The tremble in Ryan’s hand as he handed over the keys confirmed that the ordeal of captivity had overloaded his bloodstream with adrenaline; nervous energy was coursing through his body.
“Deep, slow breaths,” Morris instructed, trying to help Ryan quell the shakes. Ryan forced himself to relax but it took several minutes before the shaking began to subside and he could speak coherently.
Morris drove from the Wildcat compound like a man possessed, speeding after Conrad’s kidnappers. As they drove, Ryan began explaining in detail his decision to confront Jarrod about being implicated for the Quantum break-in. He disclosed the years of utter hatred the two men shared and their single-minded obsession to destroy one another; how when they finally met head-on in Stanford, years of enmity seemed to miraculously dissipate; that when Jer was kidnapped, he felt his only alternative was to remain a fugitive and pursue the kidnappers; that Sarah had joined him and with Jarrod’s help they were able to track these men to Kentucky; and how their rescue attempt had failed, resulting in their own capture. Now, with full awareness of all that Jarrod had sacrificed to save his family left him no choice but to follow his cousin to Fort Knox.
When Ryan relived the telling of his story, he could hardly believe he was speaking about his own actions. Had he stopped to consider any one of these decisions before carrying them out, he couldn’t have succeeded. But using blind faith and unremitting determination had helped him prevail. Why stop now?
“You are one crazy son-of-a-gun, Mr. Marshall,” Morris said, listening quietly to Ryan’s narrative of the past few days. “For having no law enforcement experience, no backup, and no real plan…I’d say you and your wife did quite well for yourselves. You’re a very lucky man.”
“Do you have any idea who’s behind this, Lieutenant?” Ryan asked when Morris seemed to have run out of questions.
“Well, according to Angelina, Sela Coscarelli was kidnapped by her former boss and boyfriend, Alastair Holloway. He’s some big-time oil baron worth billions and is somehow connected to your cousin’s partner, the late Dr. Niles Penburton, who was killed at Stanford two days ago. It seems Penburton was in cahoots with Holloway to
