by Paul Stein
“Well, well, well…look who’s awake,” Jarrod Conrad glibly said. “When you decided to break into my house, I’ll bet you didn’t imagine you’d end up in this predicament, did you? You’re just as stupid and predictable as ever, Ryan. What did you think…you’d walk in and beat me up like the old days? Did you really think I wouldn’t be prepared for you to show up here? My kiss-ass graduate student played you like a fiddle; Millicent did exactly as I asked,” Jarrod scoffed, peering into Ryan’s eyes, about three inches from his face.
“Mmmh…mmuag…aah,” Ryan tried to shout, still struggling beneath his restraints, the veins in his neck and forehead popping from the strain. He was overcome with rage, realizing that Jarrod had once again gained the upper hand. He felt stupid and humiliated.
“Now, now, settle down, Cousin,” Jarrod said, patting him lightly on the cheek. “It won’t do for you to pop a blood vessel before we have a little fun. We’ve got much to discuss…wouldn’t you say? But, oh, what a pity, you can’t say anything now, can you? So you just have a listen before the police haul your sorry ass to jail. I really can’t believe how easy you’ve made this, Ryan.”
“Mmmhh…aaauh…” Ryan vainly fought to holler. He was so agitated that the restraints on his wrists were cutting into his skin. He rocked back and forth in the chair, trying to free himself with all his strength. His effort was useless; Jarrod had carefully prepared for his capture, having the Tazer and snap ties ready for use. Ryan was thoroughly at his cousin’s mercy.
“Okay, here’s how this’ll go down, Cousin,” Jarrod began again. “First, I want to know what happened to the equations you stole from my office. By now you’ve undoubtedly figured out they’re useless. Why else would you be here, right? You’re such a fool, Ryan; you always have been. You didn’t think I’d leave everything in my office without a contingency plan, did you? If you know anything about me at all, it’s that I’m suspicious and thorough. So…whoever has the plans knows it won’t work without the key, eh?”
Ryan briefly paused from straining. What Jarrod was saying caught his attention. Listening to the precautions taken to protect his discovery was not out of character. Ryan realized that whoever had stolen this data was going to be disappointed. This was a provocative thought and he stared at Jarrod questioningly.
“And secondly,” Jarrod continued, noticing the puzzled look on his cousin’s face, “I want to know how you plan to use my machine. I’m sure your technical people have diagnosed that the machine’s capacity is directly related to scale—the bigger the object, the more nuclear fuel is needed to overcome its gravity. What’s your cockeyed plan for getting the fuel you’ll need? Honestly, Ryan…I gave you more credit than this. Do you hate me so much that you’ve chanced going to prison? You won’t be such a big man in the slammer, Cuz. Someone’ll make you his bitch.”
“Auugh…mmmmh…” Ryan kept murmuring, rejoining his effort to break the restraints. Sweat was running down his forehead, the exertion against his bonds beginning to take a toll.
“Easy now, damn it. You really should get a handle on your temper. Now listen to me, Cuz. I’m going to take off the tape, but if you get belligerent…it’s going right back on, understand? Blink once if you agree,” he instructed, looking to see if Ryan would concur.
Ryan blinked and Jarrod grabbed a corner of the adhesive tape and tore it quickly from his mouth.
Ryan grimaced. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he began. “How can y… you think I had anything to do with this, uh…break-in of yours?” he stammered, his words shooting out like a jet of water from a high-pressure hose. He rushed to convey as much as possible before Jarrod replaced the tape on his mouth.
“I didn’t have anything to do with any break-in. You’re framing me. It’s you that vandalized the crane at my construction site,” he shouted. “You could have killed someone. I thought Virginia was a low blow, but this…Christ, man, you really are sick,” he said, straining forward in his seat, his eyes bulging as if he were possessed.
“Wait a second,” Jarrod replied, looking momentarily startled. “What are you talking about? I’ve never been anywhere near one of your construction sites. What possible reason would there be for me to tamper with your equipment? You, on the other hand, have a perfect motive for breaking into my office. You’re consumed with revenge—you can’t get past the practical joke I pulled in New York, which I know you enjoyed. Geez…I never thought Sarah would take it that seriously,” he argued, looking puzzled.
Ryan could see genuine confusion on his cousin’s face. It surprised him. He wasn’t prepared to consider the possibility that Jarrod hadn’t tampered with his crane.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Ryan said. “I don’t know anyone else even remotely capable of murder. There’s no one in the high-steel business that would do something this low-down; it means certain death. You, on the other hand have a history of such things. You hired someone to collapse my crane. What’s your plan this time… strip away my business, discredit me, put me in jail? I know this is your doing, Cuz,” he emphasized, throwing Jarrod’s derogatory nickname back in his face. “Now untie me, you miserable ass.”
“Really, Ryan…you can’t be serious,” Jarrod laughed. “I’m not about to release you. Aside from your outlandish allegations, which are wildly imaginative, you’ll stay tied up until the police arrive. You left evidence at the scene; there’s a manhunt for you over three states. I just thought we’d chat a bit, catch up on old times, and maybe you’d tell me what provoked you to break into my office. If you cooperate, maybe it’ll help you later. But make no mistake…you’re going to pay for this, Ryan. Now tell me who has the equations…not that it matters; I have everything backed up. The machine won’t work without me,” Jarrod said smugly, crossing his arms.
“Listen to me carefully, Jarrod: I-didn’t-break-into-your-office. I-don’t-know-who-did!” Ryan yelled, pausing to emphasize each word. “Any evidence was obviously planted to make it look like I was there. Do tell…what’s this evidence?”
“You left a handwritten note on LSI stationary,” Jarrod said, shaking his head in wonder, perplexed that Ryan was able to sound so convincing. “I admit…it seems a bit amateurish, even by your standards, but there’s also a strand of hair, which I’ll bet anything will match your DNA. But the most damning evidence is your knowledge of my password: Amerigodivina, a combination of Nono and Nana’s first names. No one but you could have come up with that word. Your goose is cooked, Ryan,” he said, looking like a prosecuting attorney who had just delivered irrefutable evidence to a jury.
“Damnit, Jarrod, don’t you see what’s happening? I didn’t know your password!” Ryan exclaimed. “You’re supposed to be the smart one. Think about it…it’s a set-up. My construction site was vandalized the same time that your research was stolen. This is no coincidence. Someone’s pitting us against one another, and is using the thing we prize most as a means to that end. You need to think real hard about who might be willing to sell you out. Now, pleasssee… cut me loose. We’ve got to work this out together, whether we like it or not.”
“No, no, no…not so fast, mister,” Jarrod replied, massaging his temples. He was pacing now, trying to make sense of everything he was hearing. It was true; there did seem to be a conspiracy. But who would sell him out? By and large, his research was secret and proprietary, guarded by Quantum Dimensions. There were very few people who knew the extent of the antigravity research. Niles Penburton and he didn’t always see eye to eye, true, but Niles was also an astute businessman. He would never compromise the antigravity discovery before it was patented to Quantum, just as the partnership documents stipulated. Jarrod was dispirited by these thoughts, but had to admit his fool of a cousin did make good sense.
“Tell me more about what went down at the construction site,” he asked. “Why are you so sure I’m responsible?”
Ryan squirmed in his seat, looking incredulous, but took the time to fully describe what had occurred with the tower c
rane, and how he had come to decide it was time to confront the animosity between them.
“Don’t you see? Isn’t it obvious why I’d draw this conclusion?” Ryan asked. “We’ve been at each other’s throats all our lives. I’m sick of the way things have turned out between us, but there’s nothing I can do about the past. But the stunt you pulled with the prostitute was way over the top.” He hung his head at the memory of all that followed the fateful evening with Virginia. “I’ve wanted to kill you for losing Sarah, and it’s become an obsession. I have no peace. The only thing that keeps me sane is my business. When that cop showed up in Taos threatening my livelihood, I snapped…I knew it was you. But it appears that we’ve both been set up. For Christ’s sake, man, can’t you see what’s happening here?”
“Listen, Ryan,” Jarrod bitterly replied, his face etched with anger as he spoke. “You seem blissfully out of touch with the reason I arranged the whore in New York. Remember Ginner Torrez… Virginia Torrez, my high school girlfriend? You had the pick of any girl in school and yet you asked Ginner to the Junior prom? She only went with you because we’d had a fight, but that was the last straw. You started this vendetta between us, pal. Then you and Sarah conspired to break up my relationship with Sela, when you knew how I felt about her! You both had it coming. My little charade was as much an indictment against Sarah as it was you. You turned Sela against me with all the stories of our childhood rivalry. When you were through, she wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
Slamming a fist on the table, he took a deep breath and continued. “You talk about hatred? I’ve despised you from the day I learned you and Sarah undermined my relationship with Sela. I had no idea Sarah would react the way she did, but honestly…it came out better than I’d hoped. None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for you two. You’re dead to me now…regardless of our kinship.”
“Hold on just a damn minute,” Ryan barked back. “You can’t hold me responsible for what sisters share. Of course Sela knew about our rocky past, and yes…I may have acknowledged a few of the more outlandish stories, but it was never done maliciously or to influence Sela’s opinion of you. You’re my blood, Jarrod. Do you actually think I purposely sabotaged you? Whatever happened between you and Sela had nothing to do with me,” he said, staring straight into Jarrod’s eyes, making sure not to flinch, look away, or give any outward sign that might be interpreted as a lie. In fact, he was telling the absolute truth.
“Then how do you explain why Sela ended our relationship so abruptly? We were close all through college, and even though we ended up on opposite ends of the country, we had an understanding that once our circumstances changed, we’d commit to a real relationship. Then she suddenly became withdrawn and wouldn’t explain why except to say she’d discussed some things with Sarah and you, and decided a relationship would never work out between us. She claimed the hostility between us was a big reason behind her decision. How did you think that felt, Ryan? You betrayed me, and it was deliberate.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Jarrod,” Ryan said earnestly. They’d arrived at the crux of their conflict, and he needed to make the sales pitch of his life. “I admit that asking Ginner to the Junior prom was an act of revenge. You had it coming though. Remember all your taunts in school about my grades? How you used to publicly embarrass me for being stupid? You knew my grades drove my mother insane, but you never let up. Ginner was payback for that. But Sarah and I never undermined you. If I recall, Sela questioned your ability to make a commitment. She was struggling with her desire to have a relationship with you, but felt it was impossible because you were both so committed to your research. It was nothing more insidious than that. I promise you…I never tried to influence Sela’s feelings one way or the other. I’m just as certain that Sarah didn’t either. She would’ve told me. Don’t you get what the hatred is doing to us? I’m so sick of it…”
“I don’t believe you, Ryan,” Jarrod said, his arms still crossing his chest. “You’ll say anything to be set free. I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on. There was something that hastened Sela’s decision to end our relationship and you’re behind it, just like with Ginner. Once I figured that out, I spent every free moment planning a payback. You of all people know how I am. You knew I’d retaliate. When the Trade Center disaster hit and mom told me you’d be going to New York City, I set the Virginia plan in action. Pure Italian revenge, just like the old days. You ruined my relationship, I ruined yours….simple as that,” he stated sardonically, as if he were describing something as inconsequential as two children squabbling over a toy.
Jarrod continued, “As I said, it turned out much better than I planned. Imagine my surprise—I had no idea that Sarah would actually divorce you over it. You can’t plan such a thing,” he said with a malicious grin.
“Well, she did, you son-of-a-bitch,” Ryan retorted, his face scarlet with anger. “You got me…okay? You got me real good. Satisfied? So what now? I lost Sarah because of you; you think Sela left because of me. Are you really going to turn me over to the police, or can we try to work this through together? You must be getting the sense that someone else is behind all this. Come on, Jarrod, wake up…cut me out of this fucking chair!”
“I have to admit,” Jarrod replied slowly, “there’s something about all this that just doesn’t ring true. But I still think my only option is to turn you over to Palo Alto PD or I could become an accessory.”
All of a sudden, both men froze at the sound of a doorbell ringing. “Who the hell could that be?” Jarrod said, more irritated than startled by this new interruption. Ryan began shouting and shaking his head forcefully to resist being silenced once again, as Jarrod quickly re-taped his mouth.
“Shut up and hold still, goddamnit. That better not be Millicent; I’ve told her never to bother me at home. I’m about fed up with this bullshit,” he muttered as he left the room.
The private investigator watched with keen interest as the woman and her son walked up the front steps of 265 Lomita Lane. Even though it was past 10:30 p.m., these two seemed determined to make immediate contact with the owner. It had been a veritable wild goose chase keeping up with them. Their plane from Albuquerque took them to Las Vegas, but the connecting flight was delayed for several hours before conveying them to John Wayne Airport in Orange County. They had finally arrived in San Francisco, rented a car, and continued directly to Palo Alto, where they now waited on the steps of the house.
He had no idea what was so important that these two would suddenly fly across two states to confront the occupant. But whatever their motivation, he was not feeling as good about this assignment as he had when they left Albuquerque. Rather than hold back any longer, he decided he’d better leave the car and prepare to intercede if the situation warranted.
The woman and young man stood on the porch for several minutes before a light went on, the door opened, and they entered. The young man he was charged with following was now out his sight. Not good, the man thought. I need to find out what’s happening in that house.
TWENTY-NINE
LIVERMORE, CALIFORNIA
RICHARD KILMER’S team departed near 23:00 hours for the hour-long drive to the Lawrence Livermore Lab. They had completed a comprehensive dry run of the mission, with each man reciting his respective tactical responsibilities for the op. Following the rehearsal, they undertook personal measures to mentally prepare for the coming conflict. It was paramount to maintain clear-headed, dispassionate reasoning when facing dangerous conditions, which meant controlling anxiety prior to the mission, and each man had a different routine for achieving this state of readiness.
Sully Metusack remained lighthearted in spite of the seriousness of the pending operation and typically jostled around, told off-color jokes, and teased everyone to keep his mind clear. Ivan Krilenko, who didn’t say much under normal circumstances, sat in quiet contemplation, his eyes closed as he focused his concentration on the approaching op. Colt Hamil’s preparation wa
s an anomaly. While most men slowed themselves down to achieve tranquility, the normally hyperactive Hamil preferred to stay busy. His preparation consisted of re-inventorying and securing all the available equipment, rechecking the vehicles for any last-minute attention, and glancing again at the weather satellite for any changes in road conditions that might affect his route. But when Colt finally sat behind the wheel, he was a model of composure.
As the team readied to depart, the men, dressed in black nomex, strapped on various weapons and ammo, adjusted their night-vision goggles, and established the variable radio frequency for the mission. They were split into three groups: Tom Starkovich, Sully Metusack, and Ivan Krilenko would be the first to enter the facility, followed closely by Rafael Nuzam and Terry Ventura, who would set the explosives after the first team breached the lab. Colt would drive Kilmer and Dallas Weaver in the Humvee, waiting near the main gate for the guard station to be cleared. According to plan, Kilmer expected to pick up the cargo and be back at headquarters by 01:30 hours. It was time to get the mission underway.
Two black, windowless service vans rolled out of the Bayshore team headquarters. The black Humvee exited last, stopping briefly for Weaver to close the overhead warehouse door. At the first intersection, each vehicle went in separate directions to throw off any potential surveillance, even though none was expected. The night was clear and pitch black, just as Kilmer had wanted. Conditions were nearly perfect for the mission.
“Tooz, Team Leader,” Kilmer said into his voice-activated radio that operated hands-free. “Advise b’fore goin’ in.”
“Affirmative, Team Leader,” Metusack replied. “We’ll arrive on site in ten. After staging, will confirm our move. Stand by.”
“Righto, Tooz,” Kilmer replied.
“Rafie, Team Leader—any burrs?” Kilmer asked his second-in-command, leading the demolition team.