“I, uh…” He blinked. “It’s just that you don’t have much time to write one.”
“I’m not going to write it. I’m going to wing it.”
He chuckled nervously.
“You know, I’m sick and tired of your crap.” Donovan pushed his way past Beverly and Graham. “President Walters runs this show. If he tells you to dive headfirst off this building, you’d better do it.”
My mind flashed back to my childhood. To Dad’s suicidal leap. “Or what?” I asked. “I’ll be forced to sit next to you on the plane ride home?”
“You little—”
“It’s okay, Keith,” the president said. “He can say whatever he likes.”
Donovan’s eyes tightened. “Yes, sir.”
“Would you mind answering questions as well?” President Walters asked. “I think people will be interested in your thoughts on the new gold standard.”
“As long as I can speak my mind.”
He frowned, then nodded.
We talked logistics for several minutes. Then Donovan and the president left to get changed.
I walked across the compartment and stared at the wall of gold. Thanks to the overhead fixture, the individual bars glowed brightly.
I studied them for a long time, recalling how they’d been made from pre-1933 gold and copper coins. I didn’t know Justin’s birthdate. However, he’d been a grown man by the time he’d disappeared in 1949. So, it stood to reason he’d been born prior to 1933. In other words, he might’ve owned some of the coins in the compartment.
Ben, hands on hips, turned to face the wall of gold. “Crazy,” he remarked after a moment.
“What’s crazy?” I asked.
“All this gold sitting here, untouched and unaudited, for so many decades.” Shaking his head, he strode out of the compartment.
I hefted a bar into the air, feeling its softness and its heavy weight. Then I brought it close to my face and studied its surface.
Better safe than sorry.
“Hey Beverly,” I said. “Can you get me a small drill?”
“I’m sure I can scrounge one up.” She gave me a curious look. “Why?”
“It’s probably nothing.” I paused. “But it could be everything.”
Chapter 55
Halfway down the curving corridor, Ben saw an open compartment. He looked over both shoulders, confirming the area was clear. Then he veered inside it and shut the door behind him.
He stood in the darkness for a few moments, breathing softly and listening for footsteps. Hearing none, he flicked the wall switch. Light blazed forth from the overhead fixture, striking the bars and causing them to glitter in an overly-garish manner.
Ben pulled out his satphone and dialed up a familiar number.
“Hi, Pop,” Malware said, brightly. “How’s Fort Knox?”
“Busy. I trust you heard about the press conference?”
“Yes. It’s all over the news.”
“Has anyone figured out what’s going on yet?”
“Not even close. The media’s treating it as a publicity stunt. They keep referring to the WIN campaign, whatever that means.”
Ben knew exactly what it meant. WIN stood for Whip Inflation Now. Dating back to 1974, it consisted of a national voluntary price freeze, political summits, and other feel-good activities. Or more simply, it was President Ford’s attempt to stop inflation via the power of positive thinking.
Which, of course, meant it was a giant — albeit hilarious — failure.
At the time, supporters were encouraged to wear WIN lapel buttons. Although the buttons might not have whipped inflation, they did serve another purpose, namely as an impromptu personality test.
Anyone wearing a WIN button was a bona fide chump.
“WIN was from before your time. It was supposed to end inflation without actually stopping the inflation process.” Ben thought for a moment. “Apparently, the media expects the president to try to fix the economy with words rather than actions. You know, make a speech about how America is still good as gold or some other nonsense.”
Malware laughed. “They’re in for a shock.”
“A double shock, actually. I think it’s time for you to leak the truth to Bert Weaver. And make sure he puts Cy on stage for the big reveal.” Ben chuckled. “The question-and-answer session should be interesting.”
A few moments passed. “Done. Bert should have the text message any second now.”
“Excellent.” Ben paused. “Any luck with Capitalist Curtain?”
“My systems deciphered Justin’s handwriting. So, the bulk of the text is readable. Also, I think I’ve figured out his diagrams, so I’ve got a good idea how he made the dump trucks disappear.”
“I’m sensing a but in there somewhere.”
“I still don’t know how he made them reappear.” She exhaled. “Unfortunately, his notes only show the smoke and mirrors part. They say nothing about how he actually got the trucks out of the clearing.”
“But he did get them out, right?”
“I don’t see how. According to this, he used reinforced dump trucks. No way his crew could’ve driven them through the surrounding forest. Plus, Shrieker Tower is almost vertical. Driving up it would’ve been impossible. There was just one exit, a thin strip of grassland, and Milt was parked directly in front of it.”
Ben frowned. “Then where they’d go?”
“I think we have to consider the possibility they tricked everyone and never left the clearing. I don’t know how, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. And that’s not all.” Willow inhaled a sharp breath. “I’ve searched under every digital rock. After December 14, 1949, Justin and his crew ceased to exist. There are no photographs of them on the web, no copies of their handwriting in public or private databases, no unexplained gold transactions in the U.S. or otherwise.”
“I can’t imagine there are a lot of records from those days. Anyway maybe they were just extra careful.”
“Maybe. But what if something happened to them? What if they somehow hid the trucks underground and died in the process?”
Ben took a deep breath. She had a point, of course. Maybe Justin and his cohorts had pulled a fast one. Maybe they’d hidden the gold — and themselves — on that fateful day. And maybe, for some unknown reason, they’d never resurfaced. “What do you suggest?”
“I think we should send a team to scout the area. If the trucks are still there, we can evacuate them before anyone’s the wiser.”
“Can you get a team together in the next hour?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then get them to Shrieker Tower, but keep them on a tight leash.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know if Cy has copies of the papers, but he’s definitely sniffing around. Once the truth about Fort Knox emerges, he just might connect the dots to Shrieker Tower.”
“Then I’ll have the perfect team ready to meet him.”
“It won’t be just him. Most likely, the U.S. Army would take control of the area. If that happens, your team will need a way to access the clearing.” Ben leaned his back against the compartment door. “How’s the Berserker movement in these parts?”
“Pretty strong.” Malware paused. “Why? You want me to stage another riot?”
“Only if Cy goes to Shrieker Tower.”
“That area is extremely remote. How am I supposed to get people there?”
“By dangling juicy bait. If Cy goes to Shrieker, it won’t be just him and the U.S. Army. Not when President Walters has so much at stake.”
Chapter 56
“How’s this?” Beverly extended a small mechanical drill in my direction.
I took it and examined the tip. “It’ll do.”
As she closed the compartment door, I approached the wall of gold. Sitting down, I picked out one of the lower bars and tried to shift it. Weighed down by other bars, it didn’t move at all.