Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 01 - Flapjack

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by Daniel Ganninger


  “Oh, I’m sure I had a hand in that. Unfortunately, I think you did too,” I said with a tired voice.

  “Great. Well whatever I can do to help, I guess,” he said, sensing my pain. We followed her to the car where she was already sitting in the front seat, staring straight ahead.

  “Oh boy, this will be a fun drive,” Galveston said as I got in back and he entered the driver’s side. He started up the engine and began the drive to our unknown destination.

  “I hope you have enough gas to get to wherever we’re going,” Jane quipped.

  “Enough gas?” Galveston laughed. “Of course. I’m not a moron,” he joked. I rolled my eyes as Jane shot me a quick look and luckily a small smile. “Okay gang, here’s the deal,” Galveston said, interrupting our exchange of looks while he negotiated the city streets. “It seems we’ve been found, as you both know by now. I happened to go by the office early this morning and found it had been broken into. They pilfered everything; files, computers, everything. It was a mess.”

  “Damn,” I said from the backseat.

  “Yeah, our whole operation has been outed. David is already trying to get a hold of his contact at Global Energy, Dr. Blout, the head of the Global Energy Consortium, and he wants him safe. David is very worried about Blout now. He wants to put him under federal watch, but he hasn’t been able to get a hold of him.”

  “That’s not good. I hope May finds him,” I said.

  “Me too. I’m not sure if they know we have Dr. Sloan. I don’t know how they would, but we can’t underestimate them. Rule 112 Roger, never underestimate your opponent.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be sure to write that in my notes,” I snapped back. Jane just gave us both a confusing look.

  “Jane, I’ve arranged for you to take a little trip. Anywhere you want, just think of it as a perk of the job, a little paid vacation,” Galveston told her.

  “A vacation? Where, like the Caribbean?” She asked.

  “If you want. We just have to get you out of San Diego until things die down.” Galveston paused. “That’s a poor choice of words. Until things settle down. Roger and I need to take a little trip to Brazil.”

  “Brazil?” She exclaimed, “why Brazil?”

  “Long story. We just need to get you out of here and safe.” Galveston told her.

  I leaned towards Galveston from the back seat. “I think she should go with us. I want to keep an eye on her,” I whispered.

  “No way, too dangerous,” he answered looking straight ahead.

  “I insist. She needs to go with us.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s too much. She’s not involved in this.”

  Jane interrupted us. “I’m involved now,” she said directly. “I want to go with you guys. People just broke into my house to do God knows what. If it is truly my decision, then I want to go,” she said forcefully and we were both taken aback.

  Galveston sat silently for a moment and then answered reluctantly. “Okay, if that’s what you really want.”

  “And you two are going to pay me for all my time,” She said directly again.

  Galveston smiled, admiring her aggressiveness. “Whatever you say Jane. You’re the boss.”

  I sat back in my seat, relieved that I would be able to keep an eye on Jane, but hoping we hadn’t got her involved in something we couldn’t control. Galveston drove to San Diego Lindbergh International Airport.

  Oh, by the way,” Galveston said to me quietly, leaning back out of earshot of Jane. “May told me what killed Colonel Espinosa.”

  “Really? What was it?” I asked eagerly.

  “Curare, a poison. It’s often used by South American tribes and dipped on the tips of arrows to go after prey. It causes asphyxiation due to paralysis of the respiratory muscles and skeletal muscles. It’s slow acting and causes paralysis.”

  “Just a touch did that?” I questioned.

  “Not exactly. It has to be injected or go through a wound.”

  “Then how did he get poisoned?”

  “May said there were tiny barbs all over the statue, almost like fish hooks. That’s why it was so shiny when you saw it. All the poison was hanging on those barbs. When Espinosa touched it he must have gotten tiny cuts on his hands and fingers and absorbed the poison into his body.”

  “You don’t say,” I said shocked. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Pretty scary stuff. He could have received an antidote, but he never stood a chance.”

  I sat dumbfounded. These people were ingenious with their methods.

  “We’ve got to get these guys, Roger.”

  “I agree. Whatever it takes,” I responded quietly.

  “You know, I can hear you two. I’m only sitting in the next seat,” Jane said, giving us a look of contempt.

  “Sorry Jane,” Galveston said meekly, “we thought you were hard of hearing.”

  Jane stifled a smile. “Well, just tell me what is going on from now on. I think I deserve that,” she scolded.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Galveston and I said in unison, with our heads lowered like two admonished children.

  Galveston peeked at me in the rearview mirror and flashed a smile. Jane was stronger and tougher than he thought. She would fit in nicely to our merry brood.

  “Well boys and girls, we’re going to Brazil,” Galveston told us as we made the turn to the airport, upon which he filled us in on our itinerary.

  We would fly from San Diego to Houston, then on to Rio de Janeiro, before grabbing a connection to Sao Paulo.

  But what about the safety of the rest of our team?

  -Chapter 48-

  We drove into the long-term parking lot, picked up our bags, and walked to the terminal. Galveston seemed to notice my thoughts about everyone’s safety.

  “I’ve called Alex and Dr. Sloan. They made it out okay. They are driving to his villa in Mexico. I hope the intruders don’t touch Alex’s things. He has a tendency to keep a nasty little security system set up at his house. He really doesn’t like strangers,” Galveston said to Jane and me.

  “What is he, a drug smuggler? Who has a villa?” I inquired.

  “That’s what he told me. He seemed to enjoy throwing the word about.”

  “And what about Elizabeth?”

  “She got an earlier flight to Brazil. I think she’s going to contact an operative there who would have all the tools we need.” Galveston stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the cars to pass by. “So, what happened at Jane’s?” He said to me, this time truly out of earshot of Jane. I formulated my answer and left out the whole gas situation.

  “Let’s just say I kicked some ass,” I said, trying to be macho, but failing miserably. “I got caught by one of their guys, sprayed him with hairspray, and karate kicked him in the knee.”

  “Wow! You are a bad ass. Hairspray, huh?”

  “Yeah, they didn’t stand a chance,” I said smugly, noticing his mocking tone.

  There was still a good hour before the flight, and it proved to be a nice reprieve from the craziness of the day. I sat down next to Galveston who sat staring at the airplanes outside.

  “We’re on the final stretch, I hope,” he said looking straight ahead. “May wasn’t at all thrilled with us going to Brazil. To be honest with you Roger, I don’t have any idea what we’re going to do.”

  I looked at him. “So you don’t have a plan for us? That doesn’t leave me very assured.”

  “I’ll figure it out on the plane. Don’t you worry, I’ll come up with something, but right now I’ve got nothing.”

  I didn’t have an idea either, but tried to be supportive. “Well, I say we find this Dr. Patelo and what role he has. We know Ecomax is where they’re planning to make the battery, and like you said, we need to strike at them first.” He looked back at me.

  “You’re right. I did say that. I’ll figure it out,” he said confidently, and turned ahead again.

  Galveston stayed wide awake on our trip to Houston as Jane and I fell asleep. He look
ed at us while we dreamed of puppy dogs and lollipops and pulled a pad of paper from his bag. Like a mathematician discovering a new proof, he began to write furiously on the paper. His eyes grew wide as the gears began to turn, and he figured out our plan.

  -Chapter 49-

  Murray pulled up a barstool at McCauley’s Bar & Grill in central Chicago. He had been in the city for a few days since returning from Brazil. He ordered a Dewar’s straight up from the bartender and sipped it slowly, watching the flat screen television on the wall as he checked his watch occasionally. It was just after 5:00 P.M., and the after work crowd was beginning to shuffle in for a post-workday drink.

  Murray wasn’t there for pleasure, or to meet friends after a long day, he was there for business. After downing the drink he ordered another and found a table back in the corner of the establishment, away from the clatter of the bar. He checked his watch again and looked toward the front door, awaiting the arrival of his contact at 5:15 P.M.

  The front door of the restaurant opened, and in strolled a large man followed by another large man, neatly dressed in a tailored Italian suit and tie. The man in front was dressed in a sport coat over a polo shirt and saw Murray at the table, but didn’t approach him. Instead the first man sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a club soda. The man with the suit passed him and upon seeing Murray walked toward him.

  “Right on time,” Murray said to him without moving from his seat. The other man said nothing and pulled out a chair opposite to him. “What’s this about? You know we shouldn’t be seen together.” The man he was talking to in the suit was none other than Weston Chase.

  “It was important and I can’t trust phones right now,” Chase told him.

  “I understand. Shall we get to business then?” Murray inquired.

  “Of course,” Chase said seriously, “I need some extra insurance, that’s what this is about. I got your report on what the team found in California. What is the current status there?”

  “The team is in the process of finding all the contacts. We have the addresses of all of them, and we’re trying to gather what they know,” Murray told him, but left out the bit of information that they lost two contacts so far, a man and a woman. “We have all the information on these consultants that infiltrated Genesis. It seems they know about the device, but we don’t know what they are doing with the information. The FBI is involved with them, but I don’t know to what extent. We also haven’t found Dr. Sloan, yet, but we will. It seems like you have a mole in your organization.”

  “I know. Dr. Blout has been talking too much. You know about May?” Chase asked.

  “Yes, the FBI agent. Is that correct?”

  “That’s correct. Blout has been meeting with him and giving him information about me and the organization. I think he has become a problem,” Chase said flatly.

  “A problem, huh? And what do you recommend we do about this?”

  “I think you know. He’s a dangerous connection. He’s been giving information about the board members of Global Energy and Black Bear’s connection. He knows all about Sloan. I want you to take care of this quietly.”

  “I see. You know this will require an additional payment. This wasn’t part of the regular agreement and will be much more public,” Murray told him.

  “I know. We can discredit Sloan, but we need Blout silenced. He’s beginning to clamor to the board about Sloan’s disappearance. When the device comes out he’ll be able to connect the dots, I don’t want that. Plus, we need to give the Feds a dead end.”

  “How do you want it done?” Murray asked.

  “An accident, something that can’t be traced of course, and as quiet as possible,” Chase answered. “You’ll get an upfront payment of $20,000 with a payment of $40,000 on completion.”

  “Agreed. I have a special person that can do that, but I need an additional $20,000.”

  “I can do that. So we have a deal?” Chase asked.

  “Yes, we have a deal. It will be done by tomorrow. Blout will be out of the way as per your order.” Murray said this without feeling, knowing a man’s life was in the balance.

  “Tie up the loose ends in California. We need to get back on the timeline. Where is the device?”

  “It’s in development now. The prototype we have is much better than the one at Ecomax. It will be ready when the time arises, but we need Dr. Sloan to fill in the holes,” Murray told him.

  “And what about Project Rig?” Chase inquired.

  “Still scheduled and everything is in place,” Murray answered quickly.

  “Good. We can’t talk again in person.”

  “I understand,” Murray said, nodding. “Not again. When I see payment in my Cayman account, we’ll start the operation.”

  Chase nodded in agreement and got up from the table. He did not exchange pleasantries with Murray and left the restaurant, followed by the man that had been sitting at the bar. Murray went back to sipping his drink.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small black digital voice recorder and pressed the stop button. If this all went south, he didn’t plan to be the one left holding the bag.

  -Chapter 50-

  “Here, turn here,” the man said from the passenger seat of the vehicle. He flipped through pages of paper on his lap. “Have you heard from team two? He asked a man sitting in the back of the SUV.

  “Not yet sir,” he said looking at his mobile phone.

  “Try to get a hold of them, and when you do, give them this address. This is the man I’m concerned with now.” He handed the man in the back of the vehicle a single piece of paper. “This man is former NSA. We’re lucky we found his address at that office. Call control and see if they can get any more information about this Alex Jubokowski.”

  The man in the back took the next piece of paper and dialed the phone, talking quietly while the vehicle drove slowly through a residential area filled with massive McMansions and curving hills.

  The man in front consulted a handheld GPS unit. “Okay, stop here.” He pointed to a curb in front of a semicircular drive. He rolled down his window, put his arm out, and made a circular motion with his finger to another SUV following close behind. “Ready the weapons. We take anyone alive for questioning, but no escapes,” he said coldly.

  The vehicle screeched, bumped into the driveway, and intentionally stopped in front of a pair of garage doors, eliminating any possible escape route. The men in the first vehicle got out slowly and deliberately, careful to scan the area for witnesses to their intrusion. The men from the second vehicle moved quickly, and without speaking, fanned out around the house. They each pulled black sock masks down over their faces as they went, hiding their identities. They were careful to conceal their weapons as they moved, but luckily for them, the property was secluded from the adjacent houses.

  The man from the front car, the obvious leader of the operation, walked slowly to the front door while the driver carried a large metal tube, a battering ram.

  “Police, open up,” he yelled and motioned for the driver. The driver strolled to the door with the battering ram.

  He gave a wave with his hand and stepped aside from the door. The husky driver threw the ram back and with one mighty hit shattered the door from its deadbolt, flinging it open in a splintering shower of wood. Immediately a whining sound came from the house as the men streamed in.

  From around the back of the house came a shattering of glass. A fog began to emanate inside the house from strategically placed smoke grenades, which added to the confusion.

  “Get that alarm under control,” the leader told one of the men who pulled out a tool bag and went to work on the alarm control panel just inside the house. After a few seconds of working on the panel the loud sound stopped. The men moved silently from room to room while the leader coolly strolled behind them.

  “All clear,” he heard through the earpiece. “All clear in the rear,” he heard from another team member.

  The fog began to lift and he
began to see the other men emerge from different parts of the house.

  “Back rooms, closets, attic, all clear, Sir,” a masked man said to him.

  “Shit,” he muttered and keyed his microphone. “Tear it apart,” he said casually.

  The men moved in unison away from him, turning things over in the room, and began to look through drawers and cabinets with a blatant disrespect for any neatness.

  “Sir, we found a computer room,” he heard through his earpiece.

  He walked over the newly broken glass and overturned furniture. The men went into Alex’s office, the computer room, where they met up with two other men. The remaining two men stood guard by the front door as part of the group’s carefully choreographed routine.

  The computers stood just as Alex had left them, but now they were turned off.

  “We’re running out of time,” the leader told the team’s electronics expert. “Figure out what he’s got here.”

  The electronics man pulled out more equipment, readying himself for what he would find. He turned on the computers and the screens popped to life. The man plugged in a laptop to one of the ports on the computer.

  “That was easy,” he announced proudly. “This guy doesn’t even have password protection or encryption, an amateur move for a NSA guy. I should have his entire hard drive copied in five minutes. It’s big, though.”

  “Just do it,” the leader demanded, looking at his watch.

  The other men milled about the room, looking at the various artifacts Alex had accumulated over the years during his days of questionable activity. The laptop whirled to life, pulling off the information from Alex’s computer, or so they thought. The electronics man continued to look at the screen until it suddenly froze, stopping mid-download.

  “It stopped. Ahh,” he grunted, “what’s the problem?”

  The other men turned around. He knelt down to the laptop and about that time heard a click. The screens of the computers went black. The men looked at the screens as a message popped up on the monitors.

 

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