The Fourth Law

by Paul Stein

  It was therefore puzzling why they would get involved with a terribly dangerous endeavor like the one Kilmer’s team was undertaking. It was yet another testament to the persuasive power (or maybe coercion) of Alastair Holloway. He obviously has some hold on the Struffeneger family, but all Kilmer really cared about was that he need not cover his back around the man—unknown team members could cause the whole operation to go bust. The Struffenegers role in housing the team and handling the delicate process of transporting the gold to Texas was assured by Holloway. Beyond that, there was nothing much he could do but accept the decision.

  But still, the bigger problem for Kilmer was the logistics of breaching Fort Knox with just seven men. Without Weaver and Krilenko, he would be invading the fortress with only Hamil, Nuzam, Starkovich, Marlon, Metusack, and Ventura. He didn’t count Mills, considering him a liability once the job was underway, and Struffeneger would only drive the truck, so essentially he was about to break into the second-largest gold bullion depository in America—widely recognized as the symbol of security impregnability—with only seven men. Crikey, I must be goin’ berko, he thought.

  Located thirty miles southwest of Louisville, Kentucky, the depository was protected by the Fort Knox military base. The two-story structure, roughly the size of a Costco superstore, was constructed in 1936 by the U.S. Treasury Department. It contained 16,000 cubic feet of granite, 4,200 cubic yards of concrete, and 700 tons of structural steel surrounding the vault.

  The building protected the two-level steel and concrete vault guarded by a twenty-ton steel door. No one person was entrusted with the combination to the vault; multiple guards secretly entered individual codes, but only when the electronic time-lock allowed this input. The vault itself was constructed of two-inch-thick plate steel and completely enshrouded by a foot of concrete. The depository was self-contained and equipped with its own emergency power and water system. There was even an underground pistol range for use by the guards to sharpen their shooting skills.

  Security outside of the main structure was even more formidable. Standing atop the four corners of the steel fence marking the boundary of Fort Knox were the permanently manned guard stations. These guard posts and the building itself were equipped with the most advanced electronic alarms: video surveillance, perimeter laser sensors, infrared scanners for detecting heat sources, motion-sensitive automatic weapons, and multiple security alarms.

  The depository was also protected by several escalating layers of military security from the Fort Knox Army base, including a rapid deployment attack force only five minutes away. The base also had Apache helicopter gunships, the 16th Cavalry Regiment, and the 3rd Brigade Combat Team of the Army 1st Infantry Division that totaled over 30,000 soldiers. The Infantry soldiers deployed with associated tanks, armored personnel carriers, and artillery to defend the depository from multiple assaults. Fort Knox was possibly the most secure property on the planet.

  Kilmer’s plan called for Dr. Conrad to use his machine to crush the building and vault housing the gold bullion. But first the extensive perimeter security would need to be neutralized. Conrad predicted the dish’s focal point could be widened to simultaneously knock out the guard stations. Once security was deactivated, the team would have free rein of the facility for no more than a few minutes.

  Assuming their primary assault was accomplished, the logistics of carrying off $1 billion worth of gold bullion was still extremely challenging. The gold was stored in bars that resembled an ordinary building brick, though somewhat thinner. Each gold bar contained approximately 400 troy gold ounces worth about $400,000 at the current market price. The actual weight of each bar is twenty-seven pounds. To steal $1 billion would require the team to make off with 2,600 gold bars weighing 70,000 pounds, or thirty-six tons. Just thinking about the enormity of the problem made Kilmer’s head spin.

  There was no practical way to count the bars once they had breached the vault, after it had been crushed by the gravity machine. The team would deploy a ten-wheel dump truck and a massive frontend loader to drive into the open vault and scoop up as much gold as the dump truck could carry. Most likely the team would make off with much more than the 2,600 bars that Holloway stipulated.

  The real crux of the problem was to get out before the Cavalry arrived. From start to finish the breach could take no more than a few minutes or no one would get out alive. Just driving the three-mile distance between the nearest road and the depository itself was problematic. Conrad estimated that the nearest safe distance to deploy the machine was 300 yards. Beyond this distance he couldn’t guarantee the gravitons would exert sufficient gravitational force. But it was all theoretical, as he was quick to say. This was another unknown variable that would have to be dealt with in the field.

  “We’re approaching Kansas City,” Terry Ventura shouted from the driver’s seat of the bus. “We need fuel, and I need a break. Colt radioed…he’s found a good truck stop at the junction of Highway 70 and 64, where we turn off to Louisville. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get off the freeway there.”

  “Bloody well, pally,” Kilmer replied. “It’s time we took a stretch. We’re makin’ tracks.”

  Walking into Jarrod’s bedroom, Kilmer said, “Git off yer arse. If ya need to pee, now’s the time.”

  So, we’re heading to Louisville, Jarrod thought. He overheard Ventura’s information. I’ve got to get this to Sarah.

  “So tell me, Chief,” Jarrod said, deciding to confront Kilmer again. “What happens after you complete the next objective? Do you let us go or is our fate already a foregone conclusion? Because, I’ve been thinking…I don’t see any way out of this. You’re going to kill us no matter what. There’s no upside,” he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.

  “What’s yer point, Doc?”

  “My point is, unless you give me assurance that Jeremiah and Sela will be released, I’m done cooperating…forced, though it may be.”

  “No shit, really? That’s the best ya got? Can it, Professor.”

  “It’s no idle threat. You geniuses still haven’t figured out I’m the only one capable of running that machine. While Mills is technically proficient, he still can’t factor the electrical throughput without my laptop. And I’ve fixed it so I’m the only one that knows how to interface the codes. If done improperly, it shuts down permanently. Does that sound like bullshit?” he asked, looking inscrutable but with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Listen up ya fuckin’ wanker,” Kilmer responded, beginning to lose his temper. “Yer pissin’ me off with this fart-arsin’ around. Ya’ll do what I tell ya…when I tell ya…or I’ll blow Junior’s head off just to prove my point. Howzat?”

  “Calm down, Chief,” Jarrod replied, pleased to see he was getting under Kilmer’s skin. The strain was beginning to show on the man. He just needed to push a little harder.

  “I’ll tell you a little secret: If I don’t cycle the program in my laptop every twenty-four hours, it goes into a permanent hibernation state that can only be unlocked at my work station in Stanford. I’ve got more tricks than a rodeo clown,” he said, dangling fresh bait for Kilmer to swallow.

  “Yer a snag short of a barbie, ya dudder.”

  “Whatever that means…but hey, get my laptop. It’s easy enough to prove. After it starts up, an icon will appear giving the user twenty seconds to enter the password or it permanently shuts down. If I’m lying…it keeps running. If I’m not…you better hand it over or your whole operation is dead in the water,” he said, casting enough doubt in Kilmer’s mind that he could see the consternation spreading across his face.

  “Good oh, wise-arse, I’ll call yer bluff…prove yer point,” Kilmer said, reaching over to cut the snap tie holding Jarrod fast to a railing over the bed.

  Jarrod approached the central area of the bus that contained a dining table that now doubled as a work station. He opened his Dell laptop and pressed the start button. The computer went through its usual initiation sequence before a ple
asant female voice addressed Jarrod: “Good evening, Professor Conrad. You’re late for the authentication procedure. You have twenty seconds to enter your pass code.”

  “So, explain to me again your rationale for not needing my cooperation,” Jarrod said arrogantly when the computer began counting down.

  “Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen…” droned the monotone female voice.

  “What the fuck ya doin’, Professor?” demanded Kilmer, realizing he’d been set up and walked right into Jarrod’s trap.

  “Just proving my point…you’re not in charge of shit, Mr. Leader.”

  “Twelve, eleven, ten…” counted down the computer.

  “Enough already…ya made yer point…enter the code word,” Kilmer yelled, beginning to panic.

  “Who’s in charge?” Jarrod calmly asked, holding a steady gaze as Kilmer twisted. The computer continued to click off the seconds.

  “Seven, six, five…”

  “Yer in charge, goddamnit! Enter the fuckin’ password!” Kilmer yelled, totally exasperated.

  “Three, two…” the computer counted down as Jarrod calmly entered his secret password to avert the shutdown.

  “Thank you, Professor. You may now cycle the program. Have a pleasant evening,” the computer voice concluded.

  “Well, I’ll be damned…you finally see who has the real authority here,” Jarrod said. “Try not to forget my little demonstration,” he added dryly, as his fingers flew over the keyboard, executing a series of functions to make it look like he was actually performing something mandatory on the computer.

  But Jarrod was actually inside the programmer functions of the Microsoft software and he entered one word: Louisville. He presumed this was where they were heading. He flagged the message and placed a command for the computer to repeatedly send it to Sarah’s email address every thirty minutes. The computer would stay in a low power state and wake itself every thirty minutes, searching for a Wi-Fi connection. It would continually resend the message until Sarah replied.

  “Ya fuckin’ bludger, have ya gone round the bend?” Kilmer snarled grabbing a handful of Jarrod’s hair and forcing his head back against the wall. He was incensed he’d been duped by the insufferable know-it-all. “I swear on my mother’s eyes that if ya ever pull ‘nother stunt like that ya’ll be missing body parts. Do not fuck with me!”

  “Whatever yo…you…say,” Jarrod replied in pain, grabbing for Kilmer’s hand to release his hold. “But just remember who’s in charge. If I don’t see proof that Sela and Jeremiah are safe, I’ll make the goddamned machine implode the next time we start it up.” He successfully pulled free of Kilmer’s grasp, looking stonily at his enemy. “And don’t you dare question my resolve, you son-of-a-bitch. I’ve got an equation for everything. It would take Mills six months to discover all the hidden pathways in my programs. Who’s in charge, Mr. Leader?” he mocked again.

  Kilmer sprang into action. He moved to the bedroom where Jeremiah was being held and cut through his handcuff. He pulled him to his feet and dragged him back to the dining area, where Jarrod was still sitting.

  “I’ll show ya who’s in charge,” Kilmer replied. He was holding Jeremiah by the collar of his shirt; the other hand pointed a gun at the back of his head. “No more hagglin’ Professor. Ya cause any more trouble and ya’ll sign his death warrant. Who’s in charge, Professor?” he yelled.

  “Let’s just calm down…”

  “Who’s in charge, goddamnit?” Kilmer yelled, following the question this time with a blow to the side of Jeremiah’s head that caused his knees to buckle. Jarrod could see a trickle of blood beginning to drip down Jer’s ear; a dazed look was on his face.

  “Jesus Christ, enough! Alright…you’re in charge…you made your point. Just leave Jeremiah out of this. It’s me you’re angry with… don’t take it out on him.”

  “I swear to ya, Professor…the next time we square off, his parents won’t recognize him,” he hissed, releasing Jeremiah, who slumped into the seat next to Jarrod. “If ya squib out even a second the next time we need ya, I’ll carve on him to where a team of doctors couldn’t patch ‘im up,” he screamed, walking toward the front of the bus.

  Ventura was just pulling into the truck stop and advanced to one of the forward service bays. Jarrod looked at Jer’s head, which was bleeding profusely, but his cursory examination determined it probably didn’t require stitches.

  “Sorry about that,” he whispered to Jer, “but I was able to get a message out to your mom. If this place has Wi-Fi, the computer will send the message automatically, but I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he added, wiping the blood off Jer’s face.

  “It’s okay,” Jer whispered back. “Do what you have to do, Uncle Jarrod. I’m not afraid of these guys. Where are we?”

  “Shhh…not now. I think we’re going to Louisville. That’s the message to your mom. You just hang in there and do what they tell you, understand?”

  “Okay, Uncle Jarrod, but if it comes to a fight, you can count on me,” Jer said with conviction.

  “Oh, believe me, it’s coming down to a fight, Jer. But hopefully Ryan will arrive with reinforcements and together we’ll kick these guys’ asses,” he said with false bravado.

  Damn, I hope I’m right. Jarrod though. If I know Ryan, he’ll be ready to rip somebody’s head off. Trouble is…these guys are out of our league. Come on, Ryan…save my life.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  PALO ALTO

  15:00 HOURS

  SPECIAL AGENT JASON HENRY prepared the documents for the Alameda County Superior Court to issue a requisition order of the personal records of Niles Penburton. Most important when requesting a court order was making a credible case that sufficient probable cause existed to warrant the action. Agent Henry had cited that Penburton was suspected as an accessory in the recent theft of nuclear material at the Lawrence Livermore Lab, a criminal activity that led to the death of over a dozen security guards.

  Legal procedures required he procure an Alameda County judge’s authorization, which held jurisdiction over Livermore, even though Dr. Penburton lived in adjacent Santa Clara County. He drew up the request and drove to the courthouse in San Jose, determined to get the document back to Penburton by late afternoon.

  Just as he was entering the San Jose courthouse, he received an urgent message from Washington to call his office. Apparently there was a personal message needing his immediate attention.

  Agent Henry listened to the message and was amazed to hear the voice of his old friend Emerson Palmer. According to Palmer’s message, he had been contacted by Senator Alfonse Coscarelli, who made specific inquiries about the cleaners in conjunction with the abduction of his daughter. Palmer requested a return call at the first opportunity.

  The message was startling from a couple of perspectives. First, he had not heard from Emerson Palmer since he had been fired from the Secret Service several years earlier. He felt badly that he had not kept in close touch, but as there was no professional interaction after Palmer left the government, he simply lost contact with his erstwhile colleague.

  Secondly, he was alarmed that Coscarelli was asking about the cleaners. This made him uneasy. The organization was completely anonymous and unheralded. To have a seated senator asking about the organization was not good news, especially one who chaired the Senate Intelligence Committee. He wanted to investigate this further but decided to make the call to Palmer after picking up the court order for Penburton.

  His trip to the courthouse yielded the expected outcome. There were the usual perfunctory questions from the staff clerk, after which Agent Henry was scheduled to see Judge Katherine McWhitney. The judge was busy, but when her clerk explained the urgency of the matter and what it entailed, she gladly admitted Agent Henry and signed the court order with only a cursory inspection. In just minutes, Henry had secured the order demanding Penburton’s personal records—records he was certain would expose the strategist behind the many disparate parts surrounding the disapp
earance of Dr. Jarrod Conrad. While he drove, he tried to remember the last time he had seen Emerson Palmer. Damn, it must have been the operation in Bolivia, he thought. Has it really been that long?

  When Agents Henry and Palmer were last on assignment together, the cleaners had been contracted to infiltrate and destroy two competing drug cartels in Bolivia.

  The South American country of Bolivia had long been one of the richest areas for growing coca plants, the precursor of cocaine. Coca plants were synthesized into paste and shipped to Colombia, where cocaine refineries purified the product for final distribution in the United States. Vast areas of the Bolivian rainforest high in the Andes had been clear-cut by local farmers to grow the valuable coca plants, and even though an anti-drug task force existed in Bolivia, it was largely ineffective in controlling the spread of coca cultivation. The biggest reason for this futility was because government officials feared a political uprising among growers whose livelihood depended upon coca. Because of this halfhearted effort to control the cultivation of coca plants, the United States wanted the Bolivian anti-drug forces to concentrate on eradicating the manufacturing sites. Their premise was that a successful campaign destroying the labs would leave the farmers without a place to sell their product, thereby constricting the market. Unfortunately this turned out to be a baseless proposition.

  It was 2007, and President George Bush had made it his priority to stem the flow of cocaine entering the Unites States prior to leaving office. The president realized the difficulty of completely eliminating drug-trafficking, but ordered his advisors to formulate a plan that would reduce drug importation into the country. The cleaners were mobilized and developed a plan whereby Roberto Gomez, considered one of the largest coca plant growers in South America, would be implicated in the ambush of Mateo Suarez, a rival drug lord widely recognized as the godfather of Bolivia’s illegal cocaine trade. Gomez had enormous acreage in coca plants, while Suarez controlled most of the drug labs used by the Medellin drug cartel in Colombia.