Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 01 - Flapjack

by Daniel Ganninger

  “So what is Chase trying to do?” I wondered aloud.

  “Well, we know he had Murray eliminate those men to stop any links. That much is clear. But why the Senator?” Galveston thought aloud. “Is it a money thing?”

  The legislation the Senator introduced was useless and would never pass. But what if that was just a cover to a bigger piece of the puzzle? How would they get Black Bear implicated without exposing themselves?

  Chase needed Black Bear to release the product and implicate themselves in the disappearance of Dr. Sloan and the prototypes. Chase already had tipped the FBI about the Adamanthea project, now the Feds would move in for the kill.

  Eastman had alternate plans, I figured; probably a bigger piece of legislation. I believed he wasn’t as interested in the money as he was in the glory of being the one who established the United States on a new energy course.

  Black Bear had one prototype and Chase must have had the other. Black Bear probably had the more inferior prototype. Dr. Patelo likely had worked on both and that was the reason for the secrecy and the new lab location. It was also why they had killed him.

  Chase needed both of the prototypes engineered by Dr. Patelo. The superior one went back to Chase in the U.S. for production, while the inferior battery went to Ecomax in Brazil. Lucky for us Dr. Patelo had thrown a wrench in the works and bought us time, but it got him killed. Now Dr. Sloan’s fake death would be the last piece Chase and Eastman would need to succeed.

  It was intricate and complicated, but amazingly simple. Chase’s band of instigators had used Black Bear to get their goal accomplished; to be able to produce their own battery while Black Bear took the fall. He was just waiting to put the battery on the market. Eastman would help him by introducing a piece of legislation that supported the sale of this battery in every way and no one would be the wiser. But how were we going to stop them? That was the essential question.

  We found a nice hotel in downtown D.C., just steps from the Capitol building. Galveston had Alex and Dr. Sloan return to San Diego from Mexico. They were going to be busy setting up a presentation on Dr. Sloan’s technology and we needed Placer, Eastman, and Chase there with them.

  -Chapter 64-

  Murray gathered his things into a bag and left his room at the downtown Chicago Hilton. He had done his job and done it well. He wasn’t proud about it in the least, but he had no remorse for his actions.

  Murray received the message of Dr. Sloan’s death earlier in the day. It wasn’t in the proper format the team had agreed on, but at this point it didn’t matter, he was just glad it was done. The professor’s death essentially terminated his contract. The money Murray made had been successfully transmitted to his account in the Cayman Islands and he now sat on over two million in funds. It was an ample amount of money to live off of comfortably in a far flung paradise.

  Murray walked down to the lobby, checked out with the attendant, and reached for an old daily newspaper. He had a few minutes to kill before his late flight to Los Angeles from Chicago O’Hare. His final destination would be Bora Bora, in the French Polynesian Islands. He decided he would stay there a few months until the havoc he wrought in the U.S. died down. After that time, Murray planned to move to a villa in Italy he had purchased. He figured possible extradition from that country would be difficult, if they could even find him. The teams he put together to perform his tasks had been ordered to disperse and leave the country individually by tomorrow, with no exceptions. Murray decided he was done with this business. His hands were sullied from so much clandestine work.

  Murray reached in his bag and pulled out a small digital recorder and placed it on his lap. He then pulled out a pre-printed FedEx pack. He placed the recorder in a bubble wrap protective holder and slid it in the pack. The address on the package read, “Walter Monroe, Hanley, Grop, and Associates, LLC, Chicago, Illinois”. He slid in a handwritten note beside the recorder, sealed it, and walked to the lobby desk.

  “I would like this to go out tomorrow,” he said to the hotel receptionist.

  “Yes sir. FedEx has a scheduled pickup in the morning.”

  “Good. Thank you.”

  He walked back to his seat, zipped up his bag, and headed for the elevators that would take him to the parking garage and his rental car. He looked tired, and couldn’t wait to sun himself on the beach tomorrow.

  Murray travelled down to the lowest level and walked slowly to his car. It was late, about 11 P.M., and this level of the garage was deserted. He opened the trunk of the car and placed his bag in, closed it, and moved to the door with the keys of the car in his hand.

  All of a sudden he heard a soft, muffled bang, followed by another. Murray immediately felt pain in his back. He dropped the keys and crumpled to the ground until he lay flat on his side, his eyes level with the concrete floor of the garage. The pain emanated throughout his body, and he felt a warm trickle of blood going down his back while his breathing became labored. He forced himself over and squinted at the lights overhead.

  He made out the form of a man coming toward him slowly, his features dark against the light background. Murray noticed with horror that the man held a gun down at his side with a silencer attached. As the man’s face grew closer Murray recognized him, but from where? As his vision began to blur he remembered where he had seen the man, at the bar the night he met Chase. It was Chase’s bodyguard, Campbell, and he had just mortally wounded Murray in the back. He tried to form some words, but it was too late as the massive blood loss made speaking impossible. This was how it was going to end, he thought. He should have expected this to happen. He momentarily flashed to what all those men he had callously cut down must have felt, and he had an instant of remorse before he was dead.

  Campbell walked over and knelt down next to the body and felt for a pulse, nothing. The man was gone. He checked through his pockets and found what he was looking for, a ticket to get out of the parking garage. He picked up Murray and placed him in the trunk of the car, stuffing his body awkwardly into the cramped space. He used some clothes from Murray’s bag to quickly wipe up the puddle of blood that had been under the body and drove the car slowly up the ramp to the exit of the hotel.

  -Chapter 65-

  We awoke the next morning with renewed energy, all thanks to a good night’s sleep. We needed to get out of D.C. and back to San Diego as quickly as possible. Galveston already talked to Alex who was traveling back to San Diego from Mexico with Dr. Sloan. Galveston quickly laid out the plan to Alex and enlisted him to come up with a presentation for Dr. Sloan’s device. They had a day to get it done and the pressure was on. It needed to be fantastic and incredible. A tall order to be done in one day, but if anyone could do it, it was Alex.

  Alex had told the doctor about the demise of his friend, Dr. Richard Blout, on the drive from Mexico. He had taken the news hard, as any friend would, but it fueled his desire to do whatever it took to bring these men to justice. The two men were in relatively good spirits under the circumstances. Dr. Sloan was beginning to realize the repercussions of his device. If he would have known the problems it produced he would have destroyed it in an instant. The world was not ready for such a revolutionary idea.

  Galveston contacted Placer at his home in D.C. and informed him of the date and time to get the Senator to San Diego. It would be an easy task for Placer to convince the Senator once Eastman got the pictures of the two women who would be there to meet him. Luckily, Jane and Elizabeth didn’t yet know about this part of the plan. I planned to leave it to Galveston to tell them of their role.

  We arrived in San Diego at 2 P.M. and Galveston arranged a meeting of all our team members in a downtown San Diego hotel. We still didn’t know who was after us and what they might do to find us.

  All of our team members gathered in a room of the hotel. “Now to the good stuff,” Galveston told us in the impromptu meeting. “This is how we’re going to bust these bastards.”

  Galveston began to work the room like an evangelic
al preacher hopped up on caffeine and the glory of the Lord. He continuously sipped on a 44 ounce Big Gulp and barked orders like a general, which made us sit at attention.

  “We’re going to get this bozo, Senator Eastman, here in San Diego. Jane and Elizabeth, you two are in charge of the Senator when he gets here. You’re the contacts for him at the unveiling. I’ve informed Placer of your role in this. Elizabeth, I want you to set up a private jet for Eastman out of Reagan National in D.C. Dr. Sloan, I need the working prototype and a lavish display of its capabilities. It needs to be eye popping, and whatever you need, we’ll get you. Alex, contact the newspapers, TV, technology mags, anybody and everybody you can think of that would be interested in seeing the latest and greatest in new energy technology. Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Any questions?”

  Galveston finished and sipped the rest of his soda in one big gulp, breathless from the long oration. We all sat wide eyed after the deluge of information. We had our marching orders.

  “Okay everybody,” Galveston clapped his hands together in front of him, “go get some sleep.”

  Everyone left until Galveston and I were alone in the room.

  “Why do I always have to room with you?” I asked, pulling out my night bag.

  “Hey, I’m just saving us money. You think I like hearing you snoring every night. That’s lesson 23.”

  “Now you’re just making those silly rules up as you go,” I chided him.

  “No, that really is a rule. No snoring, it gives me a headache. Now get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.”

  -Chapter 66-

  The next day started quickly. Galveston was up before me gathering phone numbers, names, and a new little white lie for Placer to extend to the Senator. I was immediately put in charge of food patrol while various members of the team stuck their heads in to give progress reports and to ask questions. I managed to steal Jane away from her duties to help me locate sustenance for all of us. She gladly obliged.

  “This is crazy,” she told me as we walked to the hotel lobby.

  “You’re telling me. Did you ever think you’d be involved in something like this? I mean it wasn’t exactly in your job description,” I said back to her.

  “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” she said grabbing my hand as we walked to the hotel restaurant. My heart melted at the touch. “She really digs me”, I thought.

  We had been through so much together, mostly in spirit. She always had the most positive attitude about everything going on. It made me like her even more, and it even made me want to tell her the word a new couple is scared to say. I pushed the thought back, it was too soon. How could I feel that “L word” this quickly? It was too soon. Or was it? She glowed beautifully in the heat lamps of the morning buffet table. To me she could be beautiful sitting under a pigeon coop, but I didn’t plan to give her that analogy. We gathered up some greasy morning fare, muffins, hash browns, eggs, something that looked like a sausage, and a pitcher of orange juice. I paid the attendant, placed all the food on a tray, and went back to the elevator to return upstairs.

  “So what is the deal with Elizabeth and Galveston? Are they going to get back together?” She asked me on the ride up the elevator.

  “I don’t know. They are an interesting pair. I think I see why they broke up in the first place, but I also see why they are so well suited to each other.”

  “They are both so focused on their jobs, unlike you,” she said to me.

  “Oh thanks,” I replied at the seemingly direct smack.

  “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just; you always seem to have me in mind first, before the job. A girl likes that sort of thing.”

  “Well, it’s good to know I’m on the right track,” I responded. Jane gave a little laugh. She even did that cute. Oh boy, did I have it bad.

  The elevator doors opened and we walked back to the room to find that Alex had made a hasty entrance and exit. He was busy in the next room helping Dr. Sloan troubleshoot his idea while supplying other members of the team with information.

  Alex informed us that he had contacted all the members of the media he could. So far he had confirmation from two TV stations, three newspapers, two magazines, eight online websites, one of which agreed to stream the feed of the presentation live, and a pair of bloggers that he knew that called themselves “The Tech Junkies”. He had sent emails to the Associated Press, Universal Press Syndicate, and even CNN. The message he had sent all of them had been clear and succinct, but not overly specific.

  The Energy Freedom Foundation, a consortium of scientists and

  citizens, is releasing a new technology that will revolutionize energy

  storage and usage for all nations of the world, Playa Park Hotel,

  downtown San Diego 5:00 P.M. The Honorable Senator Edward

  Eastman will be in attendance for the event. Please confirm for your

  official press pass. Refreshments will be served.

  I found it interesting that we even had press passes and that we would be serving snacks.

  Elizabeth and Jane had arranged a private jet for the Senator out of Reagan airport and a chauffeured limousine from San Diego Lindbergh Field to the hotel. Galveston had sealed the deal with the Senator when he emailed pictures of Jane and Elizabeth to Timothy Placer. Placer sent the pictures to Eastman with the explanation that these were the women that would be his contact in San Diego for the unveiling of the Ecomax product. Jane and Elizabeth were both dressed rather provocatively, and I noticed that Galveston must have taken them the night before.

  Getting the two women to agree to pose for these pictures may have been the toughest operation for Galveston. They were not pleased with being used as objects to convince the horny Senator to take a visit. Galveston convinced them that they were performing a noble cause. They held all the power over this Senator and could get this man to do anything they wanted. The women were intelligent and strong and could control the situation. Galveston performed like a professional photographer and fashion designer. He fabricated a tasteful and provoking picture that showed the woman from head to toe, wearing the rather seductive looking clothes the women had. The picture showed just enough leg and cleavage to send the man’s head in a tailspin.

  I was not particularly thrilled with some old fart ogling my girlfriend, but payback would be a bitch. Plus, the women now seemed to delight in the fact that they would be pulling this man’s strings.

  In the email that Placer sent to the Senator, Elizabeth and Jane called themselves the League for Environmental Protectionism. It wouldn’t have mattered if they called themselves the Society of Urinal Cakes, the Senator would be on our plane once he saw these pictures.

  During the short time I had spent getting breakfast, Galveston had received an email from Morales in Brazil. Galveston had his extra insurance. Ecomax had a fully workable product, just in case someone dared to investigate the validity of the device. Chase must have known Ecomax had finished the product because the FBI had already been called to the fake release of the product in San Diego and the supposed implication of Black Bear. Everything was a go.

  The pieces were coming together perfectly. Our puppets were following the movements of their strings. Eastman and Chase were fueled by their own level of corruption, greed, fear, and power, and we planned to expose each one of those faults.

  Someone was going down tomorrow, and we all told ourselves that just one person would walk out in handcuffs.

  We milled the day away preparing for the next day’s events until I decided to invite Jane to the lobby bar for a nightcap. I had some love work to do.

  -Chapter 67-

  Jane and I went to the lobby bar and ordered a pair of drinks. I had a frosty beer from the tap while she chose the house chardonnay. We sipped slowly at our drinks and talked about the day’s events. She looked beautiful in dim lights of the bar, and I couldn’t help but stare at her lips as she talked.

  We managed to change the subject off of the
previous topic and began to discuss life goals. Jane had always wanted to be an actress. She had dreams of a spot in a theatrical play or Broadway show. She had performed in a few large scale productions in San Diego; Annie, Fiddler on the Roof, A Christmas Carol, even some Shakespearean productions. It was never enough to hold as a steady job, but she was living her dream.

  I listened intently to her resume, and she had a pleasing and peaceful air about her. She had traveled the world; ridden rapids on the Snake River in Oregon, hiked to the top of Machu Picchu in Peru, and skied in the French Alps. She was versed in Spanish and French, which would have come in handy for us if I had known this sooner. She was an amazing, strong, and vibrant woman. What the hell was she doing here with me?

  My mind wandered at the thought. Why would a woman like this want to be with a man like me? It sounded like she needed to be with a guy named Sven, who had big muscles and liked to parachute out of airplanes over the Grand Canyon while reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace. I wasn’t that type of guy. I got jittery before a shower because of the problems steam may cause to the toilet paper. Jane noticed my consternation.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked politely. “It seems like your mind is elsewhere.”

  “I’m sorry, Jane,” I said, not wanting to tell her of my lack of self-esteem. “You were saying?”

  “No. It’s okay. What’s on your mind?”

  This is always a dangerous question from a woman to a man. Men don’t usually have anything on their minds. We usually are thinking about some mundane thing that was unemotional and not important. If a woman really knew what we were thinking about they would probably not want to speak to us again. But this time was different. I badly wanted her to know what I was thinking, but I didn’t want to appear vulnerable or wimpy.