The Fourth Law

by Paul Stein

  FORTY-FIVE

  HILTON HEAD, SOUTH CAROLINA

  15:00 HOURS

  SELA COSCARELLI was nonplussed and couldn’t believe her predicament. When the day began, she wouldn’t have believed that by nightfall she would be held captive. The men who had brought her to the palatial estate, while very courteous, had provided her no information whatsoever. The root of the problem was most assuredly centered on Jarrod and Ryan. The call she had received from Jarrod confirmed this premise. For whatever reason, these men were using her for leverage against something the cousins were involved in. Considering their volatile past, it wasn’t a difficult stretch to imagine that they had finally crossed someone bent on taking revenge for their actions.

  Why these men considered her vital to their goals was still a mystery. Sela mentally replayed each of the salient facts she and Sarah had discussed the past several days, but couldn’t discern why she was being held or how she figured in. All things considered, it did appear that someone other than the cousins was behind her dilemma. What has all this got to do with me? Sela wondered.

  She looked around the room and was astounded by her opulent accommodations. She had been whisked from the airplane to a car and driven to these confines with a hood covering her head. From the pungent scent of the salt air, she figured she was close to a coastal community on the Atlantic Ocean but she had no idea of her exact location. While the bars covering the windows and a locked door prevented her free movement, her confinement was really very nice, much nicer, in fact, than her own home in Maryland. There was a four-poster bed with a canopy in the bedroom, a full Jacuzzi in the bathroom, a fully stocked bar and refrigerator, and the sitting area was decorated with contemporary original paintings and King Louis XV furniture. The big screen plasma TV that graced the center of one wall in the great room was the only thing that appeared ostentatious; a smaller unit would have better fit the size of the room.

  Sela went into the bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and plopped down on the comfy king-sized bed, totally bewildered by her circumstances. She had no way to communicate, no clothes, no toiletry items, no reading material. She was already bored with her situation, but, surprisingly, she didn’t feel scared. What in the world is going on?

  She had only been lying on the bed a few moments when there was a gentle knock on the door.

  “Dr. Coscarelli?” called a female voice through the door. “May I come in?”

  “There’s no way for me to stop you,” Sela replied irritably, getting up from the bed.

  Angelina Navarro cautiously opened the door and shyly entered the room. “We’ll be okay,” she said coolly to Sully Metusack, who was standing guard outside. “Now, don’t you bother us…this is girl talk,” she added with a wink, shutting the door in his face.

  She turned toward Sela and cut the distance between them, offering her outstretched hand. “I’m Angelina, Dr. Coscarelli. Do you mind if I call you Sela?” she asked politely.

  “Suit yourself; like most people, I like the sound of my name… but especially coming from friends. Are you friend or foe?” Sela asked, unsure about the meaning of this woman’s presence.

  Sela was immediately struck by Angelina’s beauty. Her lustrous black hair perfectly framed her exotic face. She wasn’t wearing much makeup but the little she wore accentuated her bronze skin, making her emerald-green eyes especially striking. She wore a loose blouse that strained to minimize her well-endowed breasts, but there was no disguising her exceptionally long, trim legs. Sela couldn’t remember ever being in the presence of a woman of such exquisite beauty.

  “I’m here to offer you my friendship and to make your stay with us as comfortable as possible,” Angelina replied. “I think it’s positively ghastly what they’re doing to you,” she emphasized, “but of course you understand…I have no authority here. I’ve been asked to look after you and make sure all your needs are met. So, how can I help you?” she asked pleasantly, a warm smile on her face.

  “First, you can tell me what’s going on…why am I here? What do they want with me?” Sela asked, accepting the sincerity of Angelina’s offer.

  “Oh, honey, they don’t tell me that stuff. Believe me…I’d share it with you if I could. But you should realize that I’m not privy to all the decisions made here. I merely work for the man in charge. I take care of his companionship needs, if you catch my drift,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m sure a woman of your upbringing disapproves of my profession, but I’m really not a bad person, so please don’t judge me too harshly,” she said apologetically.

  “Miss Navarro, I…”

  “Please, Sela, call me Angel or Angelina…I insist,” she smoothly interrupted.

  “Okay, Angel,” Sela continued, “I’m not about to judge you. What you do with your life is of no concern to me. I just want to know why they’ve involved me in this business between my sister’s ex-husband and his cousin, Dr. Conrad. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Honestly, honey, I don’t know what’s going on here. It has something to do with Dr. Conrad’s invention…they need him to make it work somewhere. But when I heard they kidnapped you when he didn’t cooperate, I demanded that Alastair let me take care of your needs.” She added, “oopsie” coquettishly covering her mouth in mock disguise for the slip of her tongue.

  “Who’s Alastair?”

  “Oh, my bad. I’m not supposed to use his name. So you just forget that little slip, okay, sweetie?” she said with an impish grin.

  Angelina suddenly changed her demeanor, a sadness replacing her abbreviated playfulness. “Anyway, these dumb lugs don’t know how to treat a lady…and I won’t stand for anyone mistreating you. I’ve heard about your reputation for helping disabled kids, and I’m ashamed they’re interfering with that. You see, I have a twelve year old nephew that’s stricken with muscular dystrophy and it breaks my heart to see what he’s going through. Please forgive me, Miss Sela.”

  “You don’t need my forgiveness, Angel…unless you’re a party to this. So if you really are sincere and want to help me, you’ve got to feed me information,” Sela replied, getting the sense there was more to this young woman than first meets the eye. She skillfully played the airhead role, but she was much deeper than that.

  “I can’t just disappear from the university without checking in. There are people depending on me…kids in the hospital at Johns Hopkins. My research is nearing a breakthrough,” Sela gushed, leveraging off Angela’s sensibility. “When will they let me return to work?”

  “Oh, Sela, I wish I could give you assurances, but really, honey, I don’t know anything. But I promise you…I’ll do my best to make sure no one messes with my girl. We’re friends, right?” she cajoled.

  “You seem like a good person, Angel. And I’m in no position to refuse your help. Of course we’re friends. Now if you could sneak me information, we might be able to figure out what’s going on and save people from getting hurt. Will you do that for me?”

  “Okay, honey, let me see what I can find out. But in the mean-time…you look like a size five,” she said, sizing her up. “Shall I bring some clothes and bathroom articles? And pleeeease…let me fix your face and hair. You’re such a pretty woman, but you hide it. I know… let me give you a makeover. What have you got to lose?” she asked excitedly, running her fingers through Sela’s hair.

  “From where I stand I’ve a great deal to lose if you don’t help me, Angel. I’ll tell you what…you can give me a makeover, or whatever you call it, but I need information to go along with it. Do you think you could bring me a laptop so I can check on my research? That would be awesome,” she said, lightly touching Angel’s forearm.

  “This is going to be such fun,” Angel replied, giving her a warm hug. “I haven’t had a girlfriend in such a long time. Trust me…I’ll take care of everything. I don’t know about a laptop,” she paused, frowning, “but I’ll figure out something. In the meantime there are lots of goodies in the fridge. And don’t hesitate
to ask Sully about anything you need…alright?”

  “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.

  As the Wildcat trucks were commonly recognized by loca
l law enforcement, the probability of a thorough search of the trucks was predictably remote. By lining the bottom of the fish tank with bullion bars, and then filling the truck with the usual amount of water and catfish, these trucks could easily pass through road blocks looking for the missing gold; law enforcement would never suspect that bullion was on the bottom of each load of fish. If a nosy inspector did look inside, all he would see was black to the bottom of the tank. The water, fish, and the aerators used to keep the fish alive would perfectly disguise the gold. Kilmer had no idea what the connection was between Holloway and Struffeneger, but had to admit the transport idea held considerable appeal.

  One of the noteworthy problems with stealing gold from Fort Knox was how to dispose of the gold once it was in their possession. Holloway’s plan called for Kilmer and his men to use the gravity machine to level the security surrounding the Fort, infiltrate the gold containment area, and steal 2,600 bars, the equivalent of $1 billion dollars. Once stolen, Struffeneger would transport the gold bars in a dump truck to Wildcat, where it would be parked in one of the large barns on the property. After the initial blitz of investigation and roadblocks was relaxed, Struffeneger would start hauling small loads of gold bullion to Galveston. Holloway would then trade the gold with the Russians for drilling rights on the oil-rich Siberian slopes. He figured to leverage $1 billion in gold into another $20 billion in oil.

  Kilmer questioned the advisability of trusting Struffeneger with such an integral part of the plan, but Holloway vouched for him as a long-time family friend who could be relied on without question. Emil and his wife, Hélène, were highly respected in the community—they had a productive business that employed a dozen people, their twin daughters were academic standouts at the top of their division in 4-H, and they volunteered liberally at community events. From every perspective, the Struffenegers were considered upstanding and conscientious citizens.