Jarrod was dumbfounded. He was not easily conscripted but felt himself acquiesce, allowing the eager technician to guide him toward the trailer as if this were any other normal situation. It was as if the man had no conception that Jarrod was present only through coercion; that he was in no way considered a colleague; and that Jarrod had no intention of showing anybody anything until he knew that Sela and Jeremiah were safe.
“Aldin, is it?” Jarrod asked.
“Yes, Professor, my name is Aldin. I’m a research scientist who has been hired to piece together a functioning model of the machine you’ve designed,” he replied, a satisfied look on his face as if his role had not a shred of impropriety.
“Well, Aldin,” Jarrod said accusingly, “since you seem unwilling to give me your full name, I’ll assume you are part of this illegal confab and are not being forced here against your will…as I am. I therefore consider you untrustworthy and will treat you as such,” he said with disdain, looking angry as they advanced toward the trailer.
“Professor Conrad, I certainly understand your feelings, sir, but I’m not your enemy here,” he replied apologetically. “While it’s true I’ve been hired to work on your research and realize it was stolen from your office at Stanford, I’m not a party to this conspiracy. My only involvement has been to draw forth the machine that now stands before you. I had hoped we could collaborate on completing full operational capability, but it’s clearly your choice how we approach accomplishing that task.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I would advise you, however, that these men are very resolute; I would give serious consideration to their demands.”
“Be that as it may, Mr. Aldin, I will treat you with the same hostility that they’ve shown me. These men have kidnapped two people dear to me. It’s only because of these kidnappings that I’m here at all. I hope you are being well paid, Aldin, because your participation makes you complicit in all of their wrongdoing…and that includes murder,” he said matter-of-factly.
“How truly unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate? Are you so naive to think this doesn’t involve you?” Jarrod asked incredulously. “They’ve murdered people to obtain the nuclear fuel needed to operate my device. You’re involved up to your eyebrows, mister. And believe me…I’m well aware of their ruthlessness.”
“Well, let’s put that behind us for the time being, Professor,” Aldin responded smoothly. He understood that his willful involvement would make him an accessory in all the offenses at hand, but he envisioned a future none other than sipping pina coladas on a remote beach somewhere near Jamaica. The compensation due him constituted a full retirement plan outside the country.
“Let me show you what we have so far. Isn’t this exciting? You must be thrilled to see the functionality of your device on such a large scale,” he said cheerily.
But before Aldin could ask his first question, a group of three men approached from the buildings at the far end of the warehouse. Jarrod figured that the tallest of these three was undoubtedly the leader of this unit. He was wearing grey sweats, which seemed out of place, but the man had presence. He carried himself like a man possessed with unfettered authority. This was the man responsible for abducting Jeremiah and Sela. This would be the man to negotiate their release, the man that would come to understand his disinclination to cooperate unless given proof that both his loved ones were safe and secure.
“Jarrod Conrad…this is my operation,” Richard Kilmer said in his breezy Australian accent. “I’m the one put the pinch on ya. These blokes follow my orders,” he added, nodding his head toward Colt Hamil and Tom Starkovich. “It seems ya already met our techie, Dr. Mills. He claims ya pocketed somethin’ impossible to ferret out. Yer a dingo, Dr. Conrad…but ya see, I need ya to run the machine, and I don’t ‘ve time to spare. Show us the ropes, so we can git past this hang-up.”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Leader,” Jarrod mocked, taking a confrontational tone. “I have no intention of assisting with anything until I know with certainty that my nephew and Dr. Coscarelli are safe.”
“Ya got some balls, Professor, I’ll grant ya that,” Kilmer replied steadily. “Don’t be a fool. Look around…fat chance ya threatenin’ us,” he said cynically, arching his eyebrows.
“I’m not accustomed to repeating myself, mister,” Jarrod said. “But for you… since you’re from down under…I’ll make an exception. I’m not showing you anything until my family members are proven to be safe.”
Kilmer lunged at Jarrod with dart-like precision, grabbing him by the throat and pressing him against the side of the trailer. “Don’t fuck with me, Professor!” he said, squeezing Jarrod’s throat so he was unable to breath. “Ya’ll do what I tell ya, when I tell ya…is that plain enough?”
Jarrod was infuriated. He was forced up against the trailer, with this smelly, overbearing Aussie twit trying to break his neck. His hot-blooded Italian temper overrode any sensibility and he fought back, bringing his right knee forcefully up into Kilmer’s groin.
Kilmer yelled, releasing his grip and doubling over in pain from Jarrod’s knee.
“This…is what’s cle…clear to me…ahmm…ahmm…you son-of-a-bitch,” Jarrod coughed, rubbing his throat. “Until I see my nephew and talk to Sela Coscarelli…ahmm, ahmm…you can beat me senseless and I’ll not help you with the machine. So go screw yourself,” he yelled, struggling to breathe but with fire in his eyes.
Colt Hamil had moved in behind Jarrod, and pulled him upright, holding his arms back.
“Ya’ll pay for that, pally,” Kilmer said, slowly straightening up. But then he sprang to life, moving more quickly than Jarrod thought possible, and delivered a mighty punch to his solar plexus. Jarrod doubled over in pain. The only reason he didn’t fall to the floor was that Colt still held his arms from behind.
He lost his breath for the second time, the blow making him gasp, unable to take in normal breaths. Colt straightened him up so he was facing Kilmer, who kept his distance, wary of another kick to the groin.
“Ya can’t win a fight, Professor,” Kilmer said, in obvious pain, but composing himself nonetheless. “Seems yer a scrapper all right. I’ll grant one of yer two demands…git the boy,” he said, motioning to Starkovich.
“As for Coscarelli…show Mills the ropes and ya earn that concession. But let’s be straight. We ain’t hagglin’, Conrad. Do what yer told or Jeremiah gits clipped. Think he has yer same resolve, Professor?”
“You’re a fool,” Jarrod spit back. “This isn’t over by a long shot. Since you know my reputation as a scrapper, I assume you know it goes hand in hand with a reputation for revenge. Just ask my cousin, Ryan Marshall…I believe you’ve heard of him?”
He paused and looked toward Aldin, who had been watching the proceedings like he was about to piss his pants.
“ Mills, huh?” he continued. “That goes double for you. Whatever this guy’s paying you won’t be nearly enough when I get through with you. For one, the entire scientific community is going to know you sold out and helped these thugs steal my research. You won’t be able to get a job shoveling dog shit at an animal shelter when I get through with you,” he threatened, red-faced, still trying to recover from the blow to his stomach.
“Uncle Jarrod,” Jer’s voice called out excitedly, recognizing his presence. He struggled to break free of Starkovich, who was forcibly holding him back at the far end of the warehouse.
Jarrod was relieved to see him, feeling as though it was worth having been choked and punched to verify he was on the premises. At first glance, it didn’t look like Jer was any worse for wear.