Captain Watts leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. “But what about the main star?”
Hooker saw what he was getting at and a grin toyed with his mouth. “The eater has to go. Whatever it is has got to be caught and destroyed. Or at least photographed. There’s been too much publicity about that... that thing to have it just disappear.”
“You have any idea about it?”
“What it looks like? No. What it does I can tell you. How it does it is beyond me. If we knew, a full report would have gone in to Washington from Chana and they’d be champing at the bit to find out if those mines on Scara Island tie in with this boat eater.” Hooker paused and frowned at Watts. “What have you heard?”
“The satellites are covering every inch of our area. The navy has made a dozen photographic missions as well and so far... zilch. All they could report was that this was a peaceful section. The planes photographed three more mines on Scara and a team of Navy Seals are coming in to destroy all the old explosives left on the wreck below.”
“And the Lotusland will get all this on film?”
Watts shrugged. “No way of keeping them out of it without raising a ruckus. Hell, as long as the publicity is favorable to the navy, why fight it? You say they’re doing a story on it now? They probably already have copyrights on it in hand and a script registered in Hollywood.”
“They haven’t got the big thing, Don.”
“What’s that?”
“The ending,” Hooker said. “The multimillion-dollar ending.”
“Did you ever think all this could have been accidental?” Watts asked.
“No,” Hooker told him softly, “something’s down there, all right.”
Across the desk the two stared at each other, lost in their thoughts. It was a strange moment for them because they knew that in many places in worldly governments consternation was touching certain individuals, because in this day of high technology and scientific investigation something was happening that they couldn’t understand at all and couldn’t focus on with any of their expertise. Again Watts sipped at his coffee. “No idea at all?”
“Just that there are things here that shouldn’t be. They don’t mesh. Events in the past suddenly pop up, like this eater baby is a catalyst and that keeps the pot boiling.”
“Which came first, Hooker?”
“I think the eater has the edge,” Mako said, and refilled his cup. “Did you make that call for me?”
“Oh, yes, I sure did. In one hour I had the answer. It’s three pages long and for your eyes only.” He opened the drawer of the desk and took out the stapled sheets, handing them across the desk. “This answer came back on a very secure channel.”
“That’s because they don’t have an idea of what’s going on, but you can bet the Company will be doing a follow-up investigation of their own.”
“It’s really that hot?”
“Considering the status of world affairs it’s hot as hell. There isn’t a truly stable government on the globe right now. They’re all in trouble. If they’re not at war, they have an insurrection, or an internal collapse, or an economic crisis. In 1956 you could buy a new Cadillac for around five grand. Now you don’t get a decent used car for that. Money was worth something, now a dinner out can ruin a hundred-dollar bill. The politicians deal millions, hell, billions out like shovels full of sand to change the way other nations feel about us... and that’s our hard-earned cash.”
“What did Shakespeare say, Hooker? ‘First, let’s kill all the lawyers.’”
Mako let out a laugh. “And nick the politicians a little bit.”
“Come on, Mako, those guys duck blows like a slicker does rain.”
Mako unfolded the sheets in his hand and scanned the history of Gary Foster. He skipped over the details of his early life, noting that he had two years of college and was studying chemistry before leaving school to join the army, where he was put into an outfit specializing in explosives. After an altercation with an officer, he was court-martialed and eased out of service with a Discharge Without Honor, which didn’t bother him at all. He had three arrest records, two for using dynamite in an illegal manner. A clever lawyer got him off with severe warnings. For several years he apparently was without a job, but most likely he had some illicit scam going where no tax monies were paid. A year later he was hired by Donnell and Johnson, a demolition company that took down buildings in tight city quarters with an impeccable work record. He was let go on suspicion of having stolen a considerable amount of explosive material and associated items. His next employer was Lotusland Productions. They were aware of his previous history. His work record to date was excellent.
“Did you read this?” Mako asked.
“It was for your eyes only... after mine. Anything you can tell me?”
“Nope. It just confirms a suspicion that I had.”
Watts waited.
“He could have been in an action designed to kill me and my mate on the Clamdip.”
“What good would that have done?”
“Keep me from probing into somebody else’s background who thinks he’s under deep cover.”
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“Damn near did,” Hooker said.
“You need any other favors, Mako?”
“Just one for the moment. I need access to a radio, voice only.”
Watts stood up and waved for Hooker to follow him. “I’ll take you up to the radio shack myself. Our chief radioman up there is ten years past normal retirement and doesn’t appreciate intruders on his domain. Can you handle the equipment?”
“No trouble.”
The chief radioman must have lied about his age. The navy was his home and he wasn’t about to live any other place. Even Mako’s being in company of the captain wasn’t enough for him. He interrogated Hooker until he was sure he knew what he was doing, then stepped outside with Don Watts very reluctantly and didn’t stray far from the door.
It took Hooker two minutes to contact his source in the Company; then he gave his ID with the number and coded words that attested to his status, security rating and current operative position. When the computer gave back a confirmation, the line was open to the director, who spoke with a soft voice that hid all the nails in his makeup. “I’m glad you’re working with us again, Mako.”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“Yes, I understand. But it’s always been that way, hasn’t it?”
“That’s why I retired,” Hooker said.
A laugh came through Mako’s headset. “There are a lot of people here who wish you had stayed that way.” He heard the metal clang of a steel door being opened, then shut, followed by the rustling of papers. The voice finally said, “You requested information about the Becker Bank. After the founder was killed during a robbery, the French government moved in, initiated an audit, and although nothing was found out of order, some of the bank’s depositors had a questionable ring to them.”
“Like how?” Mako queried.
“They wouldn’t release all the information to us at first, but it seems that several had mob connections in the United States.”
“Definite?”
“The investigators seemed satisfied. There was no proof of any wrongdoing, but the suspicion was enough. They are still following the lead.”
“What the hell are they after? You can’t prosecute a suspicion.”