by Trevor Scott
“No, you idiot. Before that. He was at his Polizei friend’s house. So, it makes sense that he might know where Adams went. Find out. But don’t kill the Polizei. We don’t need that kind of attention. Bring him to me at our favorite spot.”
“When?” asked the fat man.
“As soon as possible. The boss needs that information now to make the plan work.”
The men turned swiftly, got back into the van, and sped away. The Mercedes lights came on and the large sedan crept away from the curb and down the road.
Herb put his gear away and started driving to the nearest phone to warn Walt Kaiser. Gunter had finally made a mistake that could be exploited, Herb thought. He had every intention of taking advantage of his mistake.
26
TRIESTE, ITALY
The city lights shone across the dark Adriatic harbor glistening off the slick water. The cloudless sky brightened the fishing pier with shadows and silhouettes of men heading to the closest bar for warming spirits. The starry night brought a bitter chill with it, and frost was forming on anything not warm enough to fend it off.
Kurt Lamar crouched shivering in the shadows behind a pile of wet fishing nets. He had left Rome with only a thin short jacket, not realizing he would be out this late or this far from Toni’s warm apartment. He crossed his arms, tucked his fists deep behind his biceps, and hunched his shoulders forward in a vain attempt to warm his neck.
Kurt could only wonder what Jason Dalton was doing on such a squalid pier on a Saturday night. The clothes Dalton wore as he left his Rome apartment should have alerted Kurt that something was up. The casual pants and shirt with no tie were a stark contrast to his normal expensive three piece suit. But with only one stop for gas along the way, Dalton had been easy to follow...almost too easy.
The fishing boat Dalton boarded had arrived at the precise time that Dalton had reached the end of the pier after parking his car in a small lot next to an old wooden warehouse. Kurt had allowed him to board before leaving his car for a closer look.
Kurt cupped his hand over his watch, and then pressed the light button to check the time. Eight p.m. No wonder his stomach was growling, he thought.
After Dalton had been aboard the boat for a half hour, Kurt could see movement on the stern of the boat. There were at least three men, maybe more. Then two men shook hands, one went back into the boat, and the two remaining stepped off the boat and onto the pier and started walking toward Kurt.
With a quick scan, Kurt weighed his options. Stay put and remain in the shadows and hope they didn’t see him as they pass, or slowly get up now and walk back to the car nonchalantly. He looked at his clothes and realized he too would look out of place on this pier. And by now it was too late. The men had gotten too close for him to move.
He crouched down to his belly, but could still see them getting closer and closer. He didn’t think they would see him as long as he remained still. One was Dalton, but who was the other one, he wondered.
When they were almost even with Kurt, they stopped dead in their tracks.
“Son of a bitch,” said the other man.
Dalton slapped the man across his left shoulder and laughed. “It’s only a fuckin’ rat.”
They started walking again.
Kurt heard a rustling to his left. He looked down toward his leg. A huge rat sat sniffing his left knee. Kurt froze and tensed his muscles tightly.
The men passed and continued on to Dalton’s car. Dalton started his car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.
Kurt slung his left leg quickly, catching the rat square across the middle and sending it flying over the pile of wet nets. Then he jumped up and quickly made his way to Toni’s Alfa Romeo. He didn’t understand his anxiety. Animals in the woods were no problem, but city creatures seemed to be something altogether different.
When he got to the car, he thought about Dalton and his friend. Something wasn’t right. They were speaking perfect English, so the other guy must have been American. He could have just been an American businessman. But how did he get there? Not with Dalton, he thought. It had been too dark to see the man’s face.
He started the car, drove to the nearest Autostrada ramp, and began the long drive back to Rome. He wasn’t looking forward to driving most of the night.
ROME, ITALY
Jake pulled up behind Toni’s Alfa Romeo and shut down the tired Fiat engine. The sun was still more than an hour over the horizon, but the glow from the yellow street lights gave him a hint of what was outside.
He yawned and stretched his arms above his head as far as the low roof would let him. Then he tilted the rear view mirror to see how he looked. His eyes were tired and red, and his hair could use a comb. Some fine way to impress Toni after such a long time, he thought.
Walking up to Toni’s door, he turned and looked behind him for a second. Toni’s car was unnaturally dirty. That only happened on intense cases or long drives.
He went through the first and second doors, and then began climbing the stairs to the second floor. The names on the mail boxes hadn’t changed. An older woman owned the building and lived on the first floor alone. She was extremely quiet and spent most of her time on nice days maintaining the garden in the middle courtyard. An older gentleman lived on the third floor. Toni was sure that the older couple were having an affair. She would find one or the other sneaking back to their respective apartment in the early morning as she was on her way to work.
At the top of the stairs on the second floor, with the dark sturdy banister, Jake stood outside of Toni’s door in the somber light. He began to knock, then pulled his hand away. It was early, and throughout his drive from Germany he couldn’t help thinking about the man who had answered Toni’s phone. Maybe he was her new boyfriend, he thought. He could be in there now. That could complicate things.
The door swung open quickly. Toni stood in the dim light looking into Jake’s eyes. “Well? Are you going to come in, or would you rather stand out in the hall until morning?” Toni asked softly with a smile.
Jake couldn’t think of anything to say. He stepped in, put his hand on the nape of her neck, and kissed her on both cheeks. He wanted to kiss her full on the lips, but the time wasn’t right. Time would tell if she ever wanted to do that again. He quickly thought of all the times and places they had kissed. The Riviera, the Alps, and mostly in this apartment. He only hoped that her desire would match what he was feeling right now.
She closed the door quietly. When she turned, Jake had removed his black leather jacket and taken a seat on the sofa. He looked curiously at the pillow and blankets, but didn’t say a thing. He looked at her again. The small lamp on the end table behind Toni provided back lighting that revealed her tight, shapely figure through her loose night gown. He looked away, even though he had seen her many times with far less on.
“I’ll explain the blankets in a minute, Jake,” she offered quietly. “I see you still carry your CZ-75.”
Jake reached under his left arm and tapped his 9mm automatic in its leather holster. “I’d probably walk crooked without it.”
“How was your drive?”
She was nearly whispering, he noticed. Maybe the other guy was in the bedroom sleeping. “It was long and uneventful,” he said. “I’d prefer to see the Alps in the daytime. Night doesn’t do them justice.”
Toni nodded agreement. “How about some espresso?” she asked as she walked toward the small kitchen area.
“You know the answer to that, Toni.” Her graceful walk hadn’t changed. Why did he ever leave her behind?
He heard her mumble something, but the sound of steam being compressed through a scoop of coffee obscured the words.
She came back with two small white cups three quarters full of thick, dark coffee. Jake picked up his cup with his thumb and forefinger, and set it on the table in front of him for a second to cool. The aroma drifted up, and Jake inhaled deeply to savor the memories that were released within his mind of all the times that
he and Toni had enjoyed espresso together.
“Grazie,” Jake said.
“Prego,” she said as she sat down next to him on the sofa and crossed her long legs.
Jake scanned the room to see what had changed. No masculine items. That was encouraging.
“You got a new chair for your desk,” Jake said.
She looked at him for a second. “Yes. I found it at a flea market last September off Via della Lungari. It screamed for me to barter for it. I got a good deal on it.”
Jake picked up his espresso and sucked it down with one smooth stroke. The enrichment it brought was nearly instantaneous. He smiled broadly.
“So, Jake, what have you been up to for the last year and a half?” she asked.
“You know I hate to write,” he said. “And I know the last phone call before I left Germany for the states was less than enlightening for you. What can I say? Things happened quickly. I resigned and moved to the Portland area. I took some time off. Went hiking in the Cascades. I stayed with a few college friends for a while, but didn’t want to overstay my welcome. And you know how I can’t stay in one place very long.”
“How’d you come to work for Teredata?”
“About a year ago I was at a party in Portland, and met this corporate investigator. He was a real jerk, and couldn’t find his own house without a map and pictures. Anyway, he got pretty drunk and started spouting off about how he was so busy he was turning clients away. I was looking for a job, so I told him I’d take one of his rejects. He gave me his card, and I went down to his office the next day. He had a nice place in Beaverton. He knew how to set up an office and wine and dine, but that’s about all. I worked just one job for him and decided I’d rather work for myself. And here I am.”
“I envy you. You always seem to know what you want. It’s how you get there that’s confusing at times. Of course working for Cecil is nothing like that little Hitler you worked for.”
“How is Cecil?” Jake asked.
She thought for a second. “Not too good. He had a heart attack just before Christmas and hasn’t returned to work yet. I’m not sure he will.”
“Shit...Cecil. He was in good shape. He’s one of the last old school guys.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s why we’re so shorthanded down here. To top it off, John was transferred to the Middle East on short notice in November and we don’t expect a replacement anytime soon. I told him to lose the Arabic, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Jake shook his head. He felt nervous. He looked at his watch and around the room again. Finally, he set his gaze on the pillow and blankets.
“Let me explain those. I have a guest who is working on this case with me.”
“The guy who answered the phone when I called from Germany.”
“Yes. His name is Kurt Lamar. He’s an ensign with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. He was assigned aboard the USS Roosevelt to find out how computer chips were being pilfered from an important avionics upgrade to the A-7. It turns out a couple of technicians were working with a pilot who carried them onboard his A-7 and then diverted to shore complaining of some in-flight emergency. We know the pilot made a drop at Camp Darby, but we’re not sure who he sold the stuff to.”
“That’s similar to what was going on in Germany. Only the guy ripping off the chips was a tech rep for Teredata’s F-15 avionics upgrade. My guy was clonked over the head and thrown into the Rhine. They just found his body a few days ago.”
Toni looked surprised. “This is crazy, Jake. The pilot we interrogated was blown up in the Genoa attack last week. I’m sure you heard about it.”
“I haven’t been listening to the news for the last week. I’ve been spending most of my evenings watching the guys who killed the tech rep.”
“Four sailors were killed with a remote control car loaded with plastics. Kurt had two of the four figured out, and our pilot gave us the names of the others.”
“Not without your patented persuasion I’ll bet,” he said smiling.
Toni shrugged her shoulders. “Well? I can’t help it if people try to keep secrets. Do you think the bad guys would do any less?”
“No.”
“See.”
Jake felt a shiver come over him, bringing goose bumps to his arms. The long drive with no sleep must have been catching up with him. “I hate to get back to business, but I really need some sleep. I need to talk through some of this case though. You don’t think that these cases are unrelated do you?”
“No. But why haven’t our Agency guys in Germany contacted me yet?”
“Because I haven’t told them shit. You’re the only American official notified so far.”
“Pride runs deep with you, doesn’t it?”
“It’s not just that. I don’t trust those bastards. Besides, I’m working for Teredata. The company has an obligation to report lost technology, but only after they’re sure it’s going to a foreign government. I’m still not sure that’s the case. I’m a corporate investigator. I believe this transfer has more to do with economics than politics or national security. If I find out differently, then naturally I’ll report it...in due time. Like I said, though, I think this is corporate espionage.”
“I think you’re right, Jake. But when do we draw the line between national security and a foreign company’s will and desire to become more competitive?”
“I don’t want to philosophize over this, Toni,” Jake said as he rubbed his eyes and then stroked his fingers through his hair. It was a legitimate question. Justifying his right to remain autonomous hadn’t even been a consideration in Germany. He had asked Milt Swenson if the government was aware of the technology transfer. When Milt said no, Jake hadn’t even questioned his intent. He knew that the last thing any government contractor wanted was the slightest appearance of impropriety. Future contracts relied on the performance of those currently in place.
“How serious was the transfer in Germany?”
“It depends on your perspective of damage,” Jake said sarcastically. “I know you’re not really into computers, but I’ll try to explain the problem. The chips alone are important. More so, though, is what you do with them. This is the fastest chip currently in production, and probably the fastest that anyone could expect to come out with in the foreseeable future. So they are important.”
Jake paused for a second contemplating how to explain the technical details.
“So, is this technology restricted for transfer to NATO countries?”
“Currently, yes.”
“Are they the same as the chips on the A-7 contract?”
“No. They’re similar.”
“But....”
“Wait a minute. Let me explain further. Like I said, these chips are important. Put them in your normal PC and you’ve got one hell of a fast computer that can out-perform anything currently on the market. And that’s what Teredata plans on using them for, eventually. The German company that acquired them, Bundenbach Electronics, will probably use them for that purpose...and maybe more.”
“Like what?” she asked, uncrossing her legs and moving closer to Jake on the sofa.
Jake felt the shiver again. He didn’t know this time if it was caused by his lack of sleep, or what he was about to reveal to Toni. “Have you ever heard of transputer technology?”
She shook her head back and forth.
“Well, it’s the greatest advance the Europeans have ever made in computer technology. It’s a series of chips linked in parallel sequence that integrate speed, power and communications into the fastest microprocessor ever produced at unbelievably low prices. It’s turning America’s best supercomputers into relics.”
“Why do the Europeans need these chips then?”
“They don’t, if they want to produce a half-assed computer. If they combine a bunch of these transputer chips in parallel, they come up with the fastest computer on the market. But the technology isn’t perfect. It takes some complex and sophisticated software to make the
big machines work at peak performance. The Americans are the world’s software wizards. Also, the transputer chips lack memory direction. In other words, when a bunch of people try to use the computer at one time, the computer gets confused. It can mess up someone else’s work in a heart beat.”
“How will the Teredata chips help that?”
Jake got up from the sofa and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard garden. The fading moon cast a ray of light over the upper portion of the building across the square. He turned and sat against the edge of the marble sill, and crossed his legs and arms.
Then Jake continued: “The Teredata chips combined with the transputer chips would give you the perfect computing system. Speed, power, everything. And, the system would be economical. On a small scale, you could make a personal computer microprocessor about one fourth the current size with about fifty times the processing speed. On a large scale...I don’t even want to think about that.”
She rose from the sofa and came over to the window. “I think we have a problem.” She looked out the window and placed her hands over the warmth rising from the radiator beneath the marble sill. “Kurt found out something interesting last night. In fact, he just got back a few hours ago. That’s why he’s sleeping in my bed instead of the sofa as normal. I knew you’d be here this morning.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I told you we interrogated the Navy pilot. Well, we found a telephone number on him. We traced the number to the U.S. Department of Commerce in Rome.”
“Commerce? What in the hell are they doing in Rome?”
“That’s the first question we asked. We found out they were chartered by Congress to help U.S. businesses currently operating in Europe, and to give technical assistance to East European countries with emerging market-based economies. After communism failed miserably, it’s taken longer than thought to bring the eastern countries to the same level as the west.”
Jake rubbed the thick black stubble on his face. “I can understand the first part. American businesses are going to be at a disadvantage when the European Economic Community gets its shit together. The U.S. companies need to get their butts in gear if they plan on staying competitive. But why would they want to push to help the East European countries?”