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, I’m done. You hear me, Alastair? I’m not going to be your flunky any longer. And, believe me…if I go down I’ll take you down with me,” he said, terminating the call.
Stupid son-of-a-bitch is going to ruin everything, Holloway thought as he quickly tried to call Penburton back. He wouldn’t answer. The man had panicked and was about to bolt. He couldn’t keep his wits together in the face of adversity. He had seen this kind of panic before. It was irrational. It didn’t matter how reasonable the explanation, once the panic set in it was like trying to lead the horse back into a burning barn-it wasn’t going to happen.
Holloway assessed his options: He was out the $10 million for the Quantum ownership without Penburton to acknowledge the sale, but without Penburton and the pesky Conrad, he’d control the antigravity machine outright and wouldn’t have a meddling partner to deal with. Actually, the best alternative was to consider Penburton a dry hole and move on. Holloway decided to call Kilmer.
“Yessir,” Kilmer said, answering the call.
“Penburton’s lost his nerve…he’s gone rogue. Take him out ASAP,” he said, not wasting any time on the reason behind the impromptu assassination order.
“Blimey, ya dead cert?” Kilmer asked tentatively. It wasn’t like Holloway to make snappy, hair-trigger decisions of this magnitude.
“Yes I’m sure…do I sound doubtful? Just do as I ask, goddamnit.”
“Good oh. Farley’ll knock him off; he’s still out west. Accident… right?”
“No. Not an accident. I want it too look like a hit. If things work out we’ll pin this whole thing on the weak-kneed son-of-a-bitch. He just fucked with the wrong guy. No one breaks a deal with me…you got it?”
“It’s a done deal…no worries.”
“Where are you?” Holloway asked.
“We’re on schedule, just breezin’ through Arizona. We ain’t dilly dallyin’. No stops except for fuel.”
“Okay, let me know the minute you reach Wildcat. We’re getting close to pulling this off, Richard. Keep it together. We don’t need a misstep at this point.”
“She’ll be right, sir, no sweat. We’ll give it a whirl.”
Yes, you do that, Kilmer, Holloway thought. A couple days from now, this whole extravaganza will be over. I’ll have possession of the world’s first antigravity device and pulled off the crime of the century. Hallelujah.