“Got it, but don’t be too long, Angel…I need that laptop,” Sela reiterated, hoping against hope that Angelina was as genuine as she appeared. She really didn’t know what to make of their exchange. It seemed quizzical that the mistress of the man behind her kidnapping would be so interested in making her comfortable, wanting her friendship. But she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially one as engaging as Ms. Navarro. Time will tell if she’s the real McCoy, Sela thought. If she brings back a laptop, I’ll know she’s not a Trojan horse.
“Find out anything?” Sully asked when Angelina came out of the guest quarters.
“Nothing at all; she’s a darling woman, though,” Angel replied, sashaying determinedly toward the main house. “She’s confused by what’s going on. You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she said, looking back with an exaggerated scowl on her face.
Angelina walked into Holloway’s office, where he spent most of his time when visiting the Hilton Head estate. He sat at a writing desk before a wall of glass that framed a magnificent view of the bay. The big-screen TV was tuned to CNBC with the latest stock quotes scrolling across the screen. The office displayed several pictures of drill rigs from different part of the world, some with Alastair standing prominently in the foreground. The desk was tidier than the one in Galveston. He really didn’t do that much work here, mostly spending his time on the phone or his personal computer positioned to one side of the desk.
The view through the office windows confirmed that the estate was meticulously manicured and landscaped with a variety of colorful flowering plants that made it look like a tropical paradise. Palm trees graced the grounds down to the white sandy beach, where a private dock birthed a thirty-five-foot sloop. In the half-dozen times she had visited the estate they had never been on the sailboat. She wondered if Alastair even knew how to sail.
“Well, what did you find out?” Holloway asked without looking up when Angelina came into the room.
“Alastair, I don’t like this. It’s not right holding this woman. She’s done nothing wrong and has nothing to do with whatever you’re up to. I want you to let her go…please,” she implored, looking forlorn.
“Shut up, Angel,” Holloway said dismissively. “I’m not about to let her go until I get her boyfriend to do his job. When that’s over, I’ll let her go…just for you. So again…what did you find out?” he asked without missing a beat.
“Nothing,” she replied tersely. “She’s scared and confused, but she hides it well. She doesn’t know where she is or what’s happening. I told her I’d help her and I meant it. I’m going to get her some clothes and makeup. This isn’t like you, Alastair. I can’t believe you’ve actually kidnapped this woman,” she said harshly, making no pretense of hiding her displeasure.
“Be careful where you take this, Angel,” Holloway cautioned, looking up from his computer for the first time. “I agreed to let you get involved but don’t make me regret that decision.”
“You bastard! How dare you suspect my loyalty?” she shot back, realizing she was on shaky ground. “Have I ever crossed you? Not once! Not in the entire time we’ve been together. But of all the devious things I’ve seen you do…this is by far the worst. I hope whatever you’re doing is worth all the trouble,” she said, pointing her finger at him as if scolding an impetuous child.
“Get out, you fucking ingrate,” Holloway shouted, rising from his seat. “I don’t have time for your bullshit. This is none of your goddamned business. Go…do whatever it is you do and don’t bother me again. Get the woman whatever she wants…but, for chrissake, don’t underestimate her. She’s smart. I realize that’s a foreign concept to you.”
“Nice talk, Alastair. I’ll remember that the next time you want something from me,” she shouted, turning on her heels and storming out of the room.
He thinks I’m an ingrate, does he? she thought. Just wait, Alastair, just you wait.
FORTY-SIX
Grand Junction, Colorado
14:30 HOURS
Following Alastair Holloway’s latest call, Richard Kilmer had ordered a hit on Niles Penburton before he vanished. Because Holloway wanted to make it look like the man was murdered, the assignment gave Stuart Farley a wealth of flexibility. But there was no time to delay. If the professor was as freaked-out as Holloway claimed, snuffing him before he could spill his guts to the police was imperative. In any case, all Kilmer could do from Colorado was trust that Farley would complete the job without any difficulty.
The team was presently on Interstate 70 heading toward Kansas City. After Dr. Conrad had levitated the Humvee, he then used the machine to completely flatten the vehicle. With the confirmation that the antigravity machine lived up to its operational capability, Kilmer ordered the team’s immediate mobilization to Kentucky. They struck out along a route that Colt had previously determined, splitting into three groups to avoid drawing attention to their cross-country caravan.
Colt struck out first with the Peterbilt tractor-trailer, hauling Conrad’s revolutionary machine; Aldin Mills rode along to supervise the transport. Before departure, they loaded the remainder of the uranium into the generator housing and then tarped down and secured the entire load; there was no sense exposing what they were hauling. Colt had prepared a phony manifest that indicated he was a private trucker hauling parts for an electrical generator in Lexington. This would get them through the mandatory checkpoints and weigh stations along the way.
Rafie and Starkovich took an SUV and were next to leave. They were towing a ten-foot trailer loaded with every kind of ordinance the team figured to need for the breach of their next objective. This included a stinger missile launcher to shoot down Apache helicopters, which would likely be dispatched from the Army base at Fort Knox. All the team’s personal gear for the operation was also in their possession, along with state-of-the-art communications equipment designed by Dallas Weaver.
Kilmer and Ventura were last to leave the team compound. They were driving a forty-two-foot self-contained MCI Executive tour bus that was equipped with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small kitchen, and an entertainment area. It was the same type of transport used by musicians, stock car drivers, and entertainers when traveling for extended periods. Kilmer chose to stay with the bus; not for its luxury accommodations but because he didn’t want to let Conrad or the Marshall kid out of his sight. Each was handcuffed in a separate bedroom and only given a brief bathroom break every few hours; no communication between them was allowed.
Terry Ventura did most of the driving, but Kilmer needed to spell him occasionally to assure he didn’t overtire and have an accident. They stopped only for fuel-the bus had been stocked with provisions to serve the needs of six men for up to four days without refreshing. This was more than enough to carry them through to their destination in West Point, Kentucky.
The mission parameters called for the team to make the 2300-mile trip to the 300-acre catfish farm owned by Emil Struffeneger, located outside West Point. Struffeneger’s Wildcat Catfish Farm was an aquaculture facility with an annual production of 3 million pounds of channel catfish. The fish were raised in a series of large ponds constructed adjacent to the Ohio River. The Wildcat complex was an ideal base of operations because it was readily identified as a hugely successful enterprise with a stellar record, and thus would not be suspected as a hideout. The team would be easily accommodated and well-hidden at this location.
Most importantly, the Wildcat enterprise figured prominently in the transport of gold bullion following the conclusion of the operation. Struffeneger used a fleet of 3,000-gallon water trucks to haul catfish throughout the southern states. Wildcat had also established a market in Galveston, Texas, so it would not be out of the ordinary to see one of their transport vehicles that far from Kentucky. The trucks provided a perfect cover for transporting the gold bullion out of the Fort Knox area.