A black SUV with dark tinted windows drove into the clearing and parked behind the van. Wulf and Munch got out and made their way over to me. Wulf was wearing Armani black, dressed more for Monaco than the Pine Barrens. Munch was wearing jeans with the cuffs turned up and a Star Trek shirt.
Munch was practically vibrating with excitement. Wulf, as always, showed no emotion. His face was as cool and smooth as alabaster, his eyes were obsidian.
“We will try this one more time,” Wulf said to me. “I’ve brought you here so you can be nice to Martin. If you kick him, bite him, spit on him, or break his nose, you will answer to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Take her into the house,” Wulf said to the uniform standing next to me. “Restrain her and leave two men to watch the house.” He turned to Munch. “We have everything we need to go forward.”
“We don’t have enough barium.”
“The barium is in transit. The progress of this operation is delayed by your sulking. You have an hour to satisfy yourself, and then I expect you to return to work.”
“I’ve only got an hour with her?”
“We need to put a rocket up to night. And you need to finish your calculations. When the rocket is successfully launched and we’ve retrieved the data, you may return to your toy. Ms. Plum will not be leaving us so long as you wish her to stay.”
Munch looked at me and grinned ear to ear. I was Christmas morning. Lucky me.
The interior of the house wasn’t much better than the exterior. The smell of fresh paint mingled with the smell of new carpet. The furniture was tasteful but bland. Marriott meets college dorm. There was a living room with a couch, two club chairs, a coffee table, and a tele vision. Two small bedrooms with queen-size beds. A bath and a half. An eat-in kitchen that opened to a family room that ordinarily would have had a tele vision and a comfortable couch, but in this house was set up as an office and lab. This was Munch’s house, I thought. Hastily finished when the ranch-style house burned down.
Munch, the En glish-speaking uniform, and three other uniforms with guns drawn led me to the kitchen. A uniform pulled a wooden kitchen chair to the middle of the room, sat me down, and secured my hands behind the chair back with cuffs. He cuffed my right ankle to a chair leg, my left ankle to another chair leg, and he took a step back and set the key on the kitchen counter.
“Is that okay?” he said to Munch.
“Yeah,” Munch said. “That’s great, except she’s got all her clothes on.”
The uniform opened a couple kitchen drawers, found a pair of scissors, and handed them to Munch.
“Have fun,” the uniform said.
The four henchmen left, locking the front door on their way out. There was the sound of two vehicles moving on the gravel surface, and then it was quiet. Just Munch and me left in the cement-block house.
“So,” I said to Munch, “see any good Star Trek reruns lately?”
“Yeah. All the time. I have the whole collection. All the seasons. And all the movies.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Do you want to watch some?”
“Maybe later. I only have an hour to have fun with you.”
“What does fun involve?”
“You know . . . fun.”
“It looks like you work here. That’s a serious-looking computer.”
“It’s okay. Mostly, I work at the main facility.”
“Where is that located? Is it far away?”
“It’s through the woods. Everything is through the woods here.”
“Wulf said you were sending a rocket up to night. That’s pretty exciting. I wish I could see it.”
“It’s not that exciting. It’s just a small X-12 King. When we get the barium, we’ll fly the big bird, the BlueBec. It holds twenty-three hundred pounds of propellant, and it’s got a full payload. It’ll be the first real test. If it works, we’ll go global.”
“Global? What does that mean?”
“It means we’ll be able to control weather. Well, not entirely. I can’t do everything with the waves. At least, not yet.”
“What can you do?”
“I can make lightning. Not just a single strike, either. I can create the most terrifying storm you’ve ever imagined. And I can make it rain. Not a sustained rain, but a deluge. I can make the kind of rain that can do damage. Rain the earth can’t absorb fast enough.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I don’t know. Why do people want to paint pictures? Why do people want to design skyscrapers? It’s just what you do. It’s what’s in your head. I tried to get Brytlin to fund my research, but they thought I was a nut. All they wanted was a better magnetometer.”
“What about Eugene Scanlon?”
“Eugene was okay. He saw what I was doing with the new antennae grid design and the miniaturization. He’s the one who started all this in the Barrens. He had some land here, and since the Barrens are filled with nutcases, he figured we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. The problem was, we didn’t have any money. All I could do was computer-generated stuff. We did a couple tests with the little rockets, but then we were broke.”
“That’s where Wulf comes in, right?”
“Yeah. He’s got money coming out of his ears. I don’t know where he gets it. It’s like he makes it in the basement or something.”
“Why did he kill Eugene Scanlon?”
“Eugene wanted Wulf’s money, but he didn’t want Wulf involved. Eugene wanted to be the boss. And then Eugene got all in a snit and said he wanted Wulf to buy him out. Eugene wanted fifty million dollars or he was going public with my research. So Wulf killed him. Wulf doesn’t mess around. He’s got four BlueBecs on pads for me. You know what they cost? About two million apiece. Not that it’s a big loss. He’ll get all that money back and more. Once I’m up to speed, I’ll be able to destroy every power grid in the country. They’ll pay us what ever we want.”
“You’d blackmail cities?”
“Yeah. How awesome is that?”
“If Wulf has so much money, why did you steal the transmitter?”
“It was going to take too long to order one. We have a generator that we’re using now, but it doesn’t give enough power. The radio station had a monster.”
“Where’s Gail Scanlon?”
“She’s at the main facility. She’s part of a side experiment I started. Turns out the human brain operates on low frequencies of electromagnetic energy. When you’re in active thought, it’s maybe at like fourteen cycles per second. When you’re sleeping, it’s more like four cycles. I can alter that with my machine. Only problem is, I needed to put the helmet on my test subjects so their brain waves would match the resonant frequencies I chose to generate. I can’t really control thoughts yet, but I can make monkeys fall asleep or get depressed or enraged. Human trials are my next phase.”
Seemed to me that monkeys spent a lot of time sleeping anyway. And as for depressed and enraged, I’d feel that way, too, if I was forced to wear a helmet while Munch conducted experiments on me.
Stephanie Plum 14.5 - Plum Spooky
TWENTY-TWO
MUNCH PICKED THE scissors up from the table. “I should start working on your clothes before my time is up.”
“These are the only clothes I have with me,” I said. “If you cut them up, I won’t have anything.”
“Yeah, but you won’t need anything. I figure you’ll just go naked all the time.”
“That feels sort of icky.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll be like my sex slave. Besides, once I perfect my mind-control device, I’ll be able to control your mood, if you know what I mean.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have a girlfriend?”
“Are you kidding?” Munch said, looking for a place to start with the scissors. “What man wouldn’t rather have a sex slave?”
“Lots of men.”
“They’re lying. Sex slave is the way to go. You could do
anything you want to a sex slave.”
I was wearing jeans and Diesel’s sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was thick and didn’t have a front zipper. Munch started cutting at the bottom of the sweatshirt.
“Ow!” I said.
“What?”
“You stuck me.”
“I did not. Stop squirming.”
“What do you mean, you can do anything you want to a sex slave? You aren’t weird, are you?”
“I don’t know. I want to try stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
I really didn’t want to hear any of this, but he only had twenty minutes left. If I kept him talking, I could considerably delay the whole naked thing.
“Everything.”
“I don’t do everything,” I said.
“A sex slave does everything.”
“Not this one.”
“Jeez,” Munch said. “Give me a break. I went to a lot of trouble to get you here. The least you could do is cooperate.”
“I could cooperate better if you uncuffed me.”
“I don’t trust you. Last time, you kicked me in the nuts.”
“I wouldn’t do that this time.”
“Wulf would be mad at me. He told me not to do that.”
“How are you going to do everything if I’m attached to this chair? A lot of my best parts are inaccessible.”
“Wulf already thought of that. He said I should have fun with you like this, and then when I want to do something different, like some of the everything stuff, I should get the two men outside to help me.”
I felt all the blood drain from my head, and I broke out in a cold sweat.
“That would be rape,” I said.
“You could think of it like it’s a science experiment,” Munch said. “And like those two guys are lab techs.”
“If you unlocked the restraints around my ankles, you could pull my pants off,” I said to him. “It would be okay because my hands would still be cuffed behind my back on this chair.”
Munch thought about it. “I’d like to pull your pants off,” he said. “It’s going to be hard to cut through the denim with these scissors.”
“I’m wearing a thong,” I told him.
“Okay,” he said. “But you have to promise not to kick me.”
“I promise.”
Munch unlocked the ankle cuffs and returned the key to the counter. He reached for the snap on my jeans, and I kicked him in the nuts. He went to his knees, his eyes bulged out of his head, and he crashed onto his face.
“If you so much as squeak, I’ll kick you again,” I said.
I stood and worked my arms up the chair back. Once I was free of the chair, I took the key off the counter and unlocked the cuffs. Munch was curled into a fetal position, the sweat soaking through his Star Trek shirt, his breathing labored.
I needed a place to stash him. The bathroom was no good. I couldn’t lock the door from the outside. Broom closet? Wouldn’t fit. Coat closet? No lock. Cellar door? Yes! The cellar would be perfect. I grabbed the back of his shirt, dragged him moaning to the cellar door, and shoved him down the stairs. Bump, bump, bump, bump. I locked the cellar door and crept around the house looking out windows. The two uniforms were in front of the house, laughing and talking, sitting on leftover cement blocks.
I tiptoed out the back door off the kitchen and quietly disappeared into the woods. My heart was pounding so loud I was afraid the guards might hear it in the front of the house. I had no idea where I was going. The Pine Barrens were huge, and if I walked in the wrong direction, I could walk for days and never see a road or a human being or hut. Problem was, I didn’t know the right direction from the wrong direction. I would walk a little and then stop and listen. Sooner or later, Wulf would discover Munch in the cellar, and he’d set out to find me. I walked for an hour and came to an ATV path that turned into a dirt road. I followed the dirt road, and in twenty minutes, I was on a two-lane paved road.
I looked at my cell phone. Still no reception. It was five-thirty p.m. and twilight. I saw a pickup truck in the distance, heading in my direction. I could hear the broken muffler a mile away. The truck was a wreck. Not something I could see Wulf owning. I stepped into the road and flagged the truck down.
“I need a ride,” I told the driver. “My car broke down on the dirt road. I need to make a phone call.”
“There’s a gas station and con ve nience store at the crossroads,” he said. “I could take you there. There’s a phone inside the con ve nience store you could use.”
I climbed into the truck. “That would be great. I really appreciate it. I’m Stephanie.”
“Elmer.”
He was in his late sixties. His hair was gray and thinning on top. He was wearing a plaid shirt, a navy quilted vest, and khakis. There was a thick layer of dust inside and outside the truck. The floor was littered with fast-food wrappers, and the upholstery reeked of smoke. Not that I was going to judge. I was happy to have a ride.
“What road are we on?” I asked him.
“This is Banger Road. The gas station’s at the corner of Banger and Marbury. I guess you’re not from around here.”
“I’m from Trenton. I was visiting a friend, and I got lost.”
“Easy to get lost here. The gas station is just up ahead.”
He reached the corner of Banger and Marbury, and the gas station and con ve nience store were closed.
“This here’s run by Booger Jackson. I guess Booger had something better to do than keep things open to night,” he said. “That’s the way it is in this neck of the woods.”
I looked at my phone. Still no reception.
“I’ll give you fifty dollars if you’ll drive me to Trenton,” I said.
“Fifty dollars. That’s a lot of money.”
I wasn’t convinced his truck could make it all the way to Trenton, but I’d go as far as he could take me. If I had to flag down another driver in Cherry Hill, it was better than staying here.
“Okay” he said. “I guess you must be in a bind to get home.”
He took Route 206, and I didn’t object. I didn’t think the truck was Turnpike material. Twenty minutes later, I had cell ser vice, and I called Diesel.
“I’m on my way home,” I told him.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m surprised you’re not combing the woods, looking for me.”
“I was in the air with Boon all afternoon. He just brought me back to Trenton. Ranger has twenty men on the ground. You need to call him.”
“I have a favor to ask. I have no clean clothes. Could you take the laundry basket to my mother’s house and ask her to throw everything in the washer?”
“I’m on it.”
I dialed Ranger.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m on my way home.”
Lula was next on my list, and then my mother.
“I’m sending Diesel over with laundry,” I told my mother. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d throw it all in the washer.”
“Where are you? I tried to call. I made lasagna. It’s still warm.”
“Give some to Diesel when he gets there, and I’ll be there in about a half hour.”
“Was that your mom?” Elmer asked.
“Yes. She’s going to hold dinner for me. You can take me to her house in Chambersburg.”
“I haven’t been to Trenton in about twenty years. You’ll have to give me directions.”
IT WAS DARK when Elmer finally chugged to the curb and parked behind the Subaru at my parents’ house.
I wrenched my door open and jumped from the pickup. “I’ll be right back with your money” I said.
“I’ll be here.”
A black Porsche Turbo slid to a stop behind the truck, and Ranger got out. He closed the distance between us, pulled me to him, and held me tight.
“Are you really okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was scary, but I got away be
fore anything bad happened.”
His voice softened and dropped to a whisper against my ear. “I had to see for myself.”
I allowed myself a moment to relax into Ranger. He was warm and strong, and all the bad, frightening things in life went away when he held me like this.
“How did you know I was here?”
Plum Spooky Page 22