“What time is it?” Turbo asked.
Phillip looked down to see the time displayed on the answering machine. “It’s three-thirty.”
“Shit. We gotta go. The last race starts around five.” Turbo jumped up.
Carrie grabbed her purse, went over to the answering machine, deleted the last message, and headed for the door.
“Why’d you do that?” Phillip asked.
“I don’t want leave a trail. In case anyone comes looking for us.”
“Wow.” Phillip was impressed. “You’re getting good at this secret agent stuff.”
***
Turbo tapped on the door of the first personal handicapping station. “Having any luck?”
A grumpy old man chewing on an unlit cigar told him where to go. The responses from the occupants of the other stations were similar. They told him where he could stick it, what bridge to jump off, and what part of their anatomy he should kiss. And several people suggested he have sex with himself.
The bell rang to start the eleventh race. The crowd cheered and watched with anticipation until the number 3 horse crossed the finish line first. There was one race left, thirty minutes to find Rudy.
Carrie took on the task of tapping on the handicapping station doors. Her responses were much more hospitable and included offers for drinks, dinner, unprotected sex, and even one marriage proposal. Time was running out so she screamed, “RUDY.”
Rudy stepped out of the station to her right. “Don’t yell. I’m right here.”
They sat down at a window-front table in the clubhouse. The servers cleaned and re-set their tables, dusted crumbs off chairs, ran the sweeper over the carpet, and other tasks necessary to close the dining room. They ignored them, which was perfectly fine with Rudy.
“Listen, I have to make this quick. The other day at the restaurant, Alex was in the kitchen.”
“How could that be?” Carrie’s mouth hung open.
“I don’t know; the only person who knew we’d be there was Cosmo.”
Turbo took offense. “You think Cosmo ratted on us?”
“I don’t know what to think?”
“Why did you run away?” Phillip asked. “And what made you think he’d contact us in the first place.”
“Alex Gaye is a “Menshevik,” a contemporary communist. Leon Trotsky betrayed the Menshevik’s back in 1904 when he joined the Bolshevik faction. Today the Mensheviks are the new communists of Russia. They spend most of their time and energy tracking down wayward nukes and other top secret Soviet technology.”
“What’s this got to do with us?” Turbo grew impatient.
“Alex asked me to help me him access some top secret files at the agency.”
“Did you?” Carrie’s mouth hung open in disgust.
“I tried, what he wanted was level-ten stuff.”
“What sort of files?” Phillip asked.
“It was something related to “Star Wars”
“The movie?” Carrie asked.
“No, the Strategic Defense Initiative.”
“But I thought the government scrapped that program after Reagan died.”
“Officially, they did, Phillip, but I think it continued overseas. Alex’s father worked on the British version of the project. His father died mysteriously, along with twenty-one other scientists who worked on the project. That’s why he wants those files.”
“Okay, so why run from him?” Turbo asked.
“Well, it’s a lot of money; I had to deliver the files he wanted.”
“But you said they were level ten.” Carrie jumped as the bell rang to start the last race.
“The files he wanted were level ten. The files he got were level two.”
The noise throughout the track made it hard to hear. “Okay, so he wants his money back.” Turbo talked louder. “Where do we come in?”
“Well, I found someone who worked on the S.D.I. during the Eighties. His name is Mike Armaly. Doctor Mike Armaly. He’s retired now and lives in the Bahamas. I’m flying there tonight.”
“I still don’t see where we come in.” Phillip said as the last race ended.
“Phillip, you wouldn’t be involved if your grandfather’s file didn’t ping my iPhone.”
“What about me?” Turbo asked. “Alex came to see me before I ever met any of you.”
“Turbo, unfortunately you are involved, more than you know.”
“How? What did I do?”
“It’s not what you did, it’s who you are.”
Turbo appeared even more confused.
“You’re related to Tesla. That puts you right in the middle.”
“What does my uncle have to do with this?”
“Doctor Armaly told me that the Strategic Defense Initiative and Teleforce are one and the same.”
Turbo’s jaw dropped.
“And that’s not all, he knows about Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide, too. He was too afraid to talk about it on the phone. Hey, I have to go. I’ll contact you in a few days.” Rudy joined the crowd of people heading for the exits.
Turbo, Phillip and Carrie sat there for a minute or two digesting what they had learned. Then they headed for the exits, too. Gunshots rang out and the crowd turned into a stampede. Philip grabbed Carrie and shoved her into a small covey in the corroder. Turbo disappeared into the wave of people frenzied for the exit. When the crowd thinned, Phillip and Carrie made their way out of the racetrack. They searched for Turbo as they left. A horde of police officers had gathered near the main exit. As they approached that area, Carrie screamed.
Rudy was on the floor in a pool of blood.
CHAPTER 16
The apartment was located in an affluent section of Belgrade and overlooked the Danube River. The seventeenth floor unit was one of only five that had a view of the river, a view afforded by fate, not architectural design. The building’s owner could not have known that the twenty-five-story building across the street would one day be bombed, demolished, and later replaced with a smaller building. Had he known, he may have built taller. At the very least, he would have priced the top floor apartments at a premium.
Sava Kosanavic had lived in that apartment for the past forty years. He loved to watch the daily activity on the Danube. Even more so than the other river in town that bore his name. Old and feeble, the former henchman for the Yugoslavian Communist Party started his day as usual. He watched the sunrise as boats traveled along the river and waited for a visit from his granddaughter, Mika, who stopped by almost every day.
That morning, one boat in particular caught his eye. A speedboat, long and sleek with a wide red stripe down its side and two massive engines. It was idle then, adrift with the tide as his mind drifted, too. There was a time when, like the speedboat, he had all the power necessary to cruise up and down the river. His influence and intimidation made things happen. He longed for those days, his memories were vivid and his mind was still sharp. But his body was unwilling and his cause had diminished. His brand of communism died with President Tito.
A knock on the door brought him back to that day.
“Mika, you’re early” He opened the door and backed up immediately.
A young man with a gun entered the apartment. “Are you Sava Kosonavic?”
“Who are you? What do you want? I don’t have any money.”
“I don’t want money. I want answers.”
“Answers? About what?”
“Teleforce.”
Sava invited the young man in and closed the door. “I thought you were my granddaughter.” He offered the young man a seat. “You can see the Danube from this one.” He pointed to his chair by the window.
The young man sat, his gun still aimed at the old man.
“How do you know about Teleforce?” Sava asked.
“That’s not important. 22 scientists are dead and I want to know why.”
Sava pulled up a chair and placed it near the window. “Do you mind? I like to watch the boats.”
The y
oung man didn’t respond.
Sava faced the window, his back to the young man’s gun. “I’m an old man. I don’t know anything about any dead scientists.”
“You know about Teleforce.”
“Teleforce is a myth. Science fiction.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence old man, my father was one of those scientists.”
“Your father?”
“Alexander Gaeshenko.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He developed radio communication systems.”
“I said I don’t know him.”
The young man rose from his chair and pressed the gun into Sava’s back. “That’s funny old man, especially since you helped us defect from Russia.”
Sava didn’t turn around. He continued to stare out the window at the speedboat. “You should pull the trigger, Alex. I can’t help you.”
“You know who I am?”
“You were a small boy the last time I saw you.” There was another knock on the door.
“That’s my granddaughter, Mika. Would you let her in?”
Alex put the gun in his coat pocket and opened the door. Mika was stunning, tall, blonde, and athletic.
“Who are you? Is my Desa okay?”
There was a loud thud and Alex fell to the floor.
“I’m fine, Mika. Help me get him to the sofa.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, just unconscious.”
“Who is he? Why did you hit him?”
“It’s a long story.” Sava retrieved the pistol from Alex’s coat.
“Desa, did he hurt you?”
“No, Mika, I’m fine. Help me tie his hands and feet.” Sava grabbed the lamp he had hit Alex with and yanked the cord from its base. With the intruder bound, he sat down in his chair by the window.
“Should we call the police?”
“The police would never come to this apartment. They prefer me dead.”
“Well, I prefer you alive. Why don’t you stay with me for a few days?”
“Thank you, Mika, but my guest and I have much to talk about when he awakens.”
“If you wanted to talk to him, why did you knock him unconscious?”
“He held the gun, and I prefer to hold the gun.”
“Maybe I should miss work today and stay with you.”
“No, Mika, I’ll be fine, go to work.”
“Okay, but I’ll stop by on my way home.”
The river bustled with activity, although the speedboat still hadn’t moved. Sava figured it belonged to drug-runners still asleep after a wild night, oblivious to the world around them, as was the uninvited guest on his sofa. Sava had already gone through his pockets in search of another weapon, and through his billfold. Alexander Gaeshenko, Jr. had American credentials. A New York driver’s license with his picture issued to Alex Gaye. An American Social Security card and a Voter’s Registration. The voter’s registration didn’t surprise Sava. Alex was probably an idealist like his father. Alexander Gaeshenko and his two children defected from Soviet Russia with dreams of American democracy and the unalienable rights they would receive, among them the right to vote. His wife stayed behind.
The sun hung high above the river, but still no movement from the speedboat. There was movement, however, from his guest on the sofa. Movement accompanied by grunts and moans. Sava went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.
Alex was awake.
“Great, you’re awake. Let me give you some aspirin to help with that headache.” Sava struggled with the childproof cap.
“I don’t need aspirin, I need answers.”
Sava helped Alex upright, pushed three aspirin into his mouth, and placed the glass of water up to his lips.
Alex hesitated then took a drink, he immediately spit out the water and the aspirin.
“I’m sorry the water in Belgrade tastes terrible, but I refuse to buy those bottles of water. One day the earth will be covered with empty water bottles.”
“It’s okay, I don’t need aspirin.”
Sava left the open bottle of aspirin on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of red wine. “This will make it easier.” He pushed the aspirin into Alex’s mouth and placed the glass of wine to his lips.
Alex drank the wine without hesitation. “That’s much better.”
“Glad you like it. Merlot. From France.”
“So, what are your plans? If you were going to kill me you would have done so by now.”
“Why would I kill you, Alex?”
“Because, I’m gonna kill you, that’s why.”
“That may be true, but not today. I’m too valuable, you need me or you wouldn’t have come all this way from America.”
“If you don’t think I’ll kill you, then why tie me up?”
“That was a show for my granddaughter, so she would go to work and not worry.”
“That was some show; I should kill you just for the bump on my head.”
“Sorry about that, but it was necessary. Don’t worry you’ll have a chance to return the favor when you realize that I really can’t help you, that I don’t have the answers you seek, and that I’m not that valuable after all---I never was. Only then will you kill me. Please remind me to thank you in advance.”
***
Alex had no idea what was on his plate and he didn’t care. He was hungry and it tasted good. Besides, whatever it was went well with the wine. Unbound, he drank without any help, the red marks from the chord still visible on his wrists.
“Would you like some more Musaka?”
Alex offered his glass for a refill.
Sava laughed. “Musaka is what’s on your plate, not in your glass.”
Alex set the glass down. “Either way, I’d love some more.” He handed Sava his plate. “What’s in Musaka?”
Sava answered from the kitchen. “Beef, eggs, and potatoes mostly. Mika made it---she comes over on Saturday and makes all my meals for the week. All I do is put them in the oven.” Sava returned with a plate of food and the already opened bottle of wine.
“Well, she sure can cook. Is she married?”
Sava didn’t answer.
“How old is she?”
“Do not concern yourself with my granddaughter, she has been through enough.”
Alex put down his fork. He wanted to ask what she’d been through, but realized that he was better off without that information. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman. He couldn’t afford the distraction. He had his mission. Still, she was beautiful, intriguing, and judging from the Musaka, a wonderful cook, too.
Sava poured the last of the wine into Alex’s glass. “So, have you thought it all the way through?”
“Thought what all the way through?”
“Your plan.”
“What do you know of my plan?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re out to avenge your father’s death.”
“You figured me out old man. I can’t hide anything from you.” Alex chugged the last of his wine. “Thanks for lunch.” He placed his napkin on his plate and rose from his seat.
“That’s it. You’re giving up already?”
“What else can I do?”
“At least stay for dinner. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”
“Oh, what is it, now we’re friends?”
“Your father was my friend.”
“Yeah, well my father is dead.”
“Mika will be back soon.”
Alex sat back down. “So, friend, what do you want to talk about?”
“There is much to talk about, but I must warn you, you won’t find the answers you seek. You will leave Belgrade angry and full of disgust.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Sava suggested they move over to the sofa. “Okay, ask your questions.”
Alex hesitated; he didn’t know where to begin. The reason for his father’s suicide had eluded him for
years. He’d badgered the British Government for answers, begged journalists to uncover the truth, hired countless private investigators to find the facts, and even paid thousands to a former CIA agent for top-secret intelligence that he never received. So, why did he think the old man sitting next to him had any answers?
Because Sava Kosonavic was the last person to see Nikola Tesla alive, which gave him unfettered access to Tesla’s notes and papers before the United States Government seized them. “What was your uncle like?” Alex finally asked.
“He was a great man, odd, but great. You have to understand he had already experienced Dementia when I arrived in America.”
“Yes, but some of his most brilliant concepts originated during that period.”
“True, but some were so outrageous it made it hard to distinguish the prudent ones.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Sure. Hypersensitive Vacuum Tubes could be used to detect the presence of ghosts.”
“Okay, a moment of folly.”
“The man had conversations with Pigeons.”
“He was eccentric.”
“Not eccentric, crazy. He spoke to Martians!”
“That’s not crazy, I’ve done that. Although, I’ve listened more than I spoke. ”
***
Mika returned early that afternoon with a bag of groceries under each arm. Her grandfather and Alex were still on the sofa when she tapped on the front door with her high heel.
“Alex, would you open the door for Mika.”
“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that again.”
Sava opened the door and stumbled trying to help her with the grocery bags. “Mika what is all this? It’s not Saturday.”
“I know, I just thought I’d cook dinner for you and your friend.”
Alex looked over at Sava and smiled, he introduced himself to Mika. “Hi, I’m Alex, I think we’ve met once before, but I really can’t remember. I’ll try to stay conscious this time.”
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