Mad Powers (Tapped In)

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Mad Powers (Tapped In) Page 18

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

Pippa and I broke away from Ingrid and William. I promised we’d find them, back at their box, soon. I wanted to place a bet and I also wanted to have some time alone with Pippa. I’d had a hard time keeping my eyes off her; watching her here, she was like a small child, bursting with excitement. This was the Pippa I remembered—the one I’d fallen in love with all those months ago.

  She yelled above the crowds’ noise, “Why do you need me to make a bet?” She looked mystified.

  I smiled and continued to pull her along through the hordes of people, acting as if I hadn’t heard her.

  We passed one of the small, circular counters and I grabbed up a little pencil and a betting form. I was familiar with horse racing and had been moderately successful picking winners while in college. I placed the betting form on the counter while Pippa and I looked at it. Not only was it worded in German the betting structure here was somewhat different. I needed a little time to think about it.

  “What’s the problem? Fill it out and let’s get back!” Pippa said irritably.

  “Give me a second,” I said.

  I saw the four horses listed that I was interested in: Obvious Choice, Bingham, Charlie’s Wish, and A Grand Dream. Often, when betting on a horse race in the U.S., I’d go with what is called a Trifecta Part Wheel. I not only betted on a certain horse to come in first, I selected the horses to win second- and third-place as well. The odds paid out substantially well, and by making this kind of bet here, I’d be sure to get the attention of Leon Goertz.

  “I’m going to make a Trifecta bet, and hopefully win in a way that will grab Leon’s attention.”

  “How will your bet—”

  She cut herself short and looked at me with brows furrowed. “You’re going to cheat? You’re going to use those mind powers of yours somehow to cheat.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was scolding me or not. I did feel somewhat guilty about it. The fortunes and/or misfortunes that my actions might possibly instigate could be substantial. But we were on a mission. In the scheme of missions, where people often died as a result of my directives, this deception seemed almost inconsequential. Pippa must have come to the same conclusion, because she now wore a somewhat sly smile on her lips.

  “You can really do that? I mean, make that happen?”

  “I don’t know; I need to hurry up. I still have to get pretty close to those other three horses.”

  “Go! Tell me the order the horses will finish in and I’ll stand in line—make the bet.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  She nodded, not even attempting to hide her smile. I wrote down their order and gave her ten one hundred dollar bills from my wallet—then kissed her on the cheek. “Catch you later.”

  I heard bugles trumpeting up ahead. The jockey-mounted horses must be making their way to the starting gate. I edged through the crowd as people slowly moved toward the sidelines. I saw patches of brightly colored silks moving in the distance. I needed to get above the crowd and have a clear sightline to the horses, while they were still close enough. There was no way. Then I noticed a man above me on an upper level wearing gray overalls and sweeping trash into a long-handled metal dustpan. The section he was working on was closed off, but it had an excellent view of the track.

  “Hey. Kann ich dort für ein paar Minuten. Auf der Suche nach jemandem.”

  I’d asked him if I could get up there for a few minutes. That I was looking for someone. I held up two crisp hundred dollar bills.

  He looked at the bills, and then looked around to make sure nobody was watching. “Sie müssen runter, bevor das Rennen beginnt.”

  I’d need to get back down before the race started. I climbed up the wall and he helped me over the iron railing. He went about his business and I watched the horses on the track directly in front of me. I’d memorized the three horses’ names in reference to the assigned starting position numbers worn by their jockeys. I’d start with number ten, Obvious Choice.

  Hello, Obvious Choice. I have some bad news for you.

  Who are you? Why are you talking to me?

  If you win this race today, you’ll be gelded, first thing tomorrow morning. Right there in your little stall. Do you know what gelded means?

  I know what that means. Who are you?

  I am the one that sired you. I am your father.

  You are Triumph’s Glory?

  Oh, yes, I am he. Now, listen to me. You will not come in first today—you will come in second. Not third, or any place else, just second. A gelded horse is a disappointment. Do you want to disappoint me?

  I will come in second. I will not disappoint you, Father.

  Chapter 37

  By the time I arrived at William Genz’s box, Pippa was already there. William and Ingrid welcomed me in and were all smiles. I noticed we were practically standing in front of the finish line. Pippa held up the betting ticket. She looked excited and pulled me in for what I thought was a quick kiss. Hugging me, instead, she whispered into my ear, “Did you do it—talk to the horses?”

  I whispered back, “Yes. They seemed to understand me. Was only able to talk to the top four horses, so they’ll have to stay ahead on their own. It’s a risk. We’ll just have to see what happens.”

  “How do you talk to them?”

  “I don’t know … it’s not like I’m talking to Mr. Ed, or anything. More like our thinking is synchronized—meshed.”

  Ingrid caught my eye and with the slightest nod of her head gestured to the box kitty-corner to ours. It was one of the larger reserved boxes, holding ten people. Leon and Heidi were instantly recognizable to me, since I had reviewed their dossiers extensively. Leon, in his early fifties, looked fit and trim and had a commanding air about him. I noticed William also watching Leon, and he looked as if he’d just tasted something unpleasant. I leaned over and asked William which horse belonged to Goertz.

  “Number ten, Obvious Choice,” he replied.

  I nodded. “That horse will come in second, right behind yours,” I said.

  “You think?” he responded, chuckling. “He’s quite the three-year-old. Amazing track record, actually.”

  Pippa repositioned herself, moving to the corner of our box, and was within several feet of Leon. She looked over to me and gestured for me to come join her. Leon had already noticed Pippa and was eying her cleavage. Although trying to be discreet, he was edging closer to the back corner of his box, nearer to where Pippa was standing.

  As I joined Pippa, she pulled me closer. She held up the ticket and spoke loud enough for Leon to hear: “So A Grand Dream will come in first; second, will be Obvious Choice; and Bingham will take third, right?”

  Leon’s attention was fully on Pippa. “Dreierwette? You’re betting a Trifecta—all three horses finish in that specific order?” he asked her with an exasperated expression on his face.

  Pippa glanced back at her ticket and then up to Leon. “Yeah, I’ve got it on good authority that’s exactly how the race will finish.” Pippa smiled back at the older man with a flirty shrug.

  “Sorry, dear Fraulein, you’ve wasted your money. Obvious Choice will win today. Hell, I’d be surprised if A Grand Dream finds his way out of the gate. Unfortunately, not the smartest horse … questionable genetics, you know.”

  William heard this last remark and gave Leon a crooked smile. Leon winked back at William and then turned back toward the track. I could see Pippa was thinking of some way to reengage with Leon when the man suddenly turned toward us again.

  “Leon Goertz,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Pippa took his hand in hers and said, “Pamela Craft. Nice to meet you, Leon. This is my husband, David.”

  He extended his hand to me. “Well, enjoy the race. I hope you didn’t bet the farm with that ticket of yours.”

  “No. Actually, I wish I’d bet more.”

  Leon looked at me and shrugged. “I’d be willing to make a side bet,” he offered.

  “What kind of bet?” I asked. But I was already in his mind. S
ure enough, he was certain his horse would win. He’d spent millions procuring Obvious Choice—as well as acquiring the best trainer in Germany, and, of course, the horse’s lineage was superb. His horse simply couldn’t lose.

  He looked back down the track, where the horses were being prodded into their respective gate enclosures. “Not money, too pedestrian. How about a simple gentlemen’s bet?”

  “Sure, why not?” I said, and we shook hands again.

  I looked over the heads of thousands of spectators and colorful hats. My eyes followed the grassy track into the distance. I tried to connect again with A Grand Dream, but without actually seeing him, I couldn’t. Now, sensing the final preparation for the start of the race, my confidence level wasn’t nearly as high as it had been earlier. Winning today, and in a very big way, was our only ticket to gaining the attention and respect of Leon Goertz. What was I thinking? This isn’t going to work.

  The crowd had quieted and the announcer was providing last-minute information before the starter bell. Leon glanced in my direction and gave me a nod.

  The bell rang. “Und sie sind weg!” The horses were off and running.

  European tracks were longer: a mile and a half, compared to the usual mile-long tracks in the U.S. Although I could see the horses running off into the distance, there was no way I could differentiate one from another. Pippa’s eyes were wide and she held our ticket to her lips. I turned toward William and Ingrid, giving them a reassuring nod. The crowd had come alive and everyone was screaming for their favorite horse to run faster.

  Heidi moved closer and now stood alongside her husband. Both were yelling toward the distant horses. Heidi was younger than her husband by at least fifteen years—somewhere between thirty-five and forty, I guessed. Her hair was blonde and was pulled back and braided; the braid, tied with three pink bows—one at the top, one in the middle, and one at the end—fell far down her back. She turned her head and quickly sized up Pippa and then me. Her eyes lingered on me for several beats before she looked toward the track again, yelling in German for their horse to move it along.

  The jockey riding A Grand Dream was wearing bright red and black silks. I could just barely make him out, in the galloping chaos, three quarters of a mile away. He looked to be in third position, maybe fourth. Yellow and green silks held the first spot—Leon’s horse, Obvious Choice.

  A Grand Dream had fallen back to fifth. It was Obvious Choice in first, Bingham in second, Charlie’s Wish in third and Flapper Boy in fourth. A Grand Dream seemed to be struggling. I screamed along with everyone else, “Move your ass, you old nag!”

  Pippa looked up at me and burst out laughing.

  Two of Leon’s friends, seated in his box, now joined him at his side. One had his hand on Leon’s upper back. Leaning in, I heard him congratulate Leon, telling him the race was all but won.

  At a half mile out, I could clearly see the horses. Funny, how this simple bet with Leon was eating away at me. Maybe it was the man’s smug attitude. More than the mission, I wanted to beat him—humiliate him in front of his arrogant friends.

  Finally! I was now able to connect with A Grand Dream.

  What are you doing? You need to move your ass.

  I’m tired. Very tired.

  Soon the other horses will slow. You can still win this, I promise.

  I will try harder.

  Next, I connected to Bingham, Charlie’s Wish and Flapper Boy. The latter horse needed to be brought up to speed on what would happen to him if he continued running at his current fast pace. The others also needed reminding what would happen to them if they didn’t place exactly where I had earlier directed them. With the exception of Obvious Choice, the horses immediately slowed—allowing A Grand Dream to move forward into second place.

  William and Ingrid were ecstatic. Both jumped up and down as their voices screamed encouragement. Leon’s face had turned red. He held a meaty fist in the air and yelled angrily for Obvious Choice to hold his lead.

  All the horses galloped toward the finish line. They were close enough to hear their hoofs pounding on the grassy track, and jockeys yelling encouragement, as their crops whipped across sweaty, tired flanks. I jumped into Obvious Choice’s mind.

  I know you want to win. You’ve gotten caught up in the race.

  I want to win. I always win.

  That’s fine. Gelding is not so bad. Although … you’ll be like a mare … you’ll be one big mare. A laughing stock.

  That seemed to do it. As if hitting the brakes, Obvious Choice fell back and became even with A Grand Dream. Together, they ran side by side, neither giving an inch. At thirty yards out, there was no way to tell which horse was going to win. At ten yards out I had time for one more … You’ll be a laughing stock.

  A Grand Dream won the race by a nose. Obvious Choice came in second, followed by Bingham third, and Charlie’s Wish fourth.

  Pippa held the ticket up and checked it, as if uncertain. “We won … We won!” She jumped into my arms, screaming uproariously. Ingrid was enveloped in William’s arms, also screaming. Looking over Pippa’s shoulder, I watched as Leon stood staring at the track, as if wishing the last few minutes could be replayed and the race could have a different outcome. His face, still flushed red, turned in my direction. I read his thoughts. I wish I hadn’t.

  Chapter 38

  The four of us, William, Ingrid, Pippa and myself, stopped for dinner at an intimate Baden-Baden restaurant. We ordered a bottle of fine wine, followed by a second one, and more food than any of us could possibly finish. I spotted Pippa surreptitiously peeking into her purse every so often, as if she needed to verify the cashier’s check I’d handed her to hold on to was actually real.

  Even though William was the big dollar winner at the table, it was unilaterally decided that I should be the one to pay the bill. I gladly did so. Ingrid and William said their goodbyes in the parking lot. He waved to us and climbed into the backseat of his limousine.

  The ride back to the villa was jubilant. Tipsy, Pippa and Ingrid chattered away, recounting the race in ridiculous detail, and Leon’s utter surprise at its final outcome. Ingrid imitated the expression on Goertz’s face as the horses crossed the finish line. The two, laughing hard, had tears in their eyes.

  I was less amused. Looking into his mind at the track, I saw images—unexpected things. I’d noticed that Leon was deeply preoccupied. With the race results announced and over, I’d had a better chance to look into his mind. What I saw was disturbing: incongruent fuzzy jumbles—mostly nonsensical. I saw a scene where it was dark, lit only by a nearby burning torch. Death, for someone, was eminent. Then, the scene was replayed, over and over again. Was it a sacrifice? An offering? Whatever it was, Leon couldn’t stop mulling it over. The lost horse race was of lesser importance to him than the event he’d attended the night before.

  As it turned out, once Leon gained control of himself and his shock at losing, he was overtly cordial and congratulated William and Ingrid on running a fine race, as well as Pippa and me on our dramatic winnings. With Heidi at his side, they invited the four of us to attend their German Reunification Party the next day—dress casual—no, no need to bring anything … Leon then took another last look at the winning ticket I’d pulled from Pippa’s fist.

  “How much, David?” Leon asked.

  “It was an exceptionally large pool today,” I replied.

  “Yeah … so how much?” he asked again.

  “Close to four hundred twenty thousand dollars, U.S., give or take a few grand.”

  Pippa’s eyes opened to the size of small saucers, while Leon simply shook his head in disgust. One of the men consoling Leon had taken an interest in me. With a quick check, I saw he indeed did recognize my face, my red hair.

  Good, I thought, that’s very good.

  * * *

  By the time we rolled into the villa’s drive, it was pushing midnight. Begrudgingly, Pippa agreed to let Ingrid keep our check in her safe. We climbed up the stairs to our bedr
oom. Several times Pippa glanced back and smiled at me over her shoulder. When she got to the door she didn’t open it. She turned around, with her back to the door, and waited for me to come close.

  “Just because we’re sharing a room doesn’t mean anything’s changed.”

  “No, of course not,” I replied.

  “And although we had a good time today, not to mention making a boatload of money, we should remember why we’re here, right?” Her eyes looked up at me, beckoning me closer.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said, stepping closer, leaning against the closed door beside her. I felt her warmth, smelled the sweet wine on her breath. Her arms came up around my neck and she pulled me near. We kissed with eyes open—slow and soft.

  “This complicates things,” she said.

  “I don’t care,” I said, kissing her again, now more passionately.

  She gently pushed me away with a smile. “I want us to wait until all this is over—when we’re back in the States.” With her hands on my shoulders she looked into my eyes: “Perhaps you should take a cold shower.” She giggled, turned, and opened the door.

  I stood there for several moments. I had the feeling Pippa wasn’t done tormenting me. I’d take my punishment, willingly. I smiled to myself and followed her into the bedroom.

  * * *

  We slept in the next morning and had a relaxing few hours doing nothing special at the villa. Around 11:00 a.m. I noticed I’d received a text from Baltimore—he wanted an update.

  After breakfast, I showered and ventured off on my own, into a small forest of trees off the villa’s backyard. I called Baltimore.

  “Chandler. What’s the status?”

  “Good morning to you, too. Things are progressing. We’ve made contact with the Goertzes.”

  “What about getting into his house?”

  “We’re invited to their party, later this afternoon. Sounds like it will be quite a shindig.”

  “Good. Everything hinges on you finding and downloading that code.”

 

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