The Twins Paradox

by Sco Thorson

she stole it out from under him. His phone rang, an internal call.

  "Bob, Arvid here.”

  "Yes sir," he shifted easily to obsequious, "what can I do for you."

  "That ridiculous tip that your scientist provided us with turned out to be right on the money."

  "Excellent," he responded, thinking fast. "No one is more pleasantly surprised than me. She struggles at times, but I want the best for our TJ."

  "Hmmm, I wasn't aware of that. However, as of right now, she's out of our hands anyway. The CIA has requested that we transfer operational control of her to them. I'm sending down the paperwork now."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," he lied, smiling, "but this will be a good opportunity for her career."

  "Indeed."

  "Arvid, we are at a critical stage of the project right now, and I really need a competent scientist to implement my ideas. Can we open up a replacement requisition so that I can keep things going?"

  "How quickly could you bring a replacement up to speed?"

  TJ has just been doing basic implementation, so it shouldn't take long."

  "You realize that opening a replacement requisition will make it more difficult for us to get TJ back."

  "I'm afraid it can't be helped," he sighed.

  Plug the Leak

  Wednesday 8:15 p.m.

  Max’s phone rang, a secure call from the Midtown Manhattan Hilton, his CIA handler. The CIA had set him up in the terror fulfillment business, but he wondered if they suspected his double cross. Finally, he picked up.

  "This is Max."

  "Max, Roger from Citibank," his CIA handler began. "Can you talk now?"

  Max paced nervously. "Yes Roger what can I do for you?"

  "We received information that some contraband may be moved via Sunrise Air. Could you help us check it out?"

  "Sunrise Air," he feigned surprise, "but I understood they were above suspicion.”

  "I agree, but it's possible that the bad guys are using them without their knowledge. It's a good cover."

  "Good point," he replied, wondering how many of the dots that “Roger’ had been able to connect. "I'll call my contacts and give you an answer tomorrow afternoon."

  "The sooner the better. We think this may go down Friday morning. We’ll be watching the sunrise air terminals closely until we figure out what's going on."

  "Then I better get this taken care of right away. Bye Roger," Max disconnected.

  He swore softly to himself, then took three long cleansing breaths. He would just have to manage it. He walked to the door, opened it, and spoke to the man in the hall.

  "Antonio, tengo problema."

  Celebration

  Wednesday 7:00 p.m.

  “$27,000 for two seats to Washington,” he groused as they waited for a rental car, “And I thought flying with you was expensive.”

  Rachel smiled, “Cheap compared with telling the authorities and ending your meal ticket.”

  “True,” he brightened, “what next?”

  “We get a villa at a very expensive resort down the road, something befitting my new wealth and station. Then you order the wire transfer I just received and buy me dinner.”

  “And make plans,” he asked.

  “No, celebrate. The job’s done.”

  He decided not to press the point until they were alone. Instead he rode along on the wave of her confidence. Thirty minutes later they were installed in seaside luxury at an outrageously expensive resort.

  “Do you come here often,” he called through the closed bedroom door.

  “I’ve always wanted to, but could never afford it.”

  “Then why was there a reservation in your name,” he pressed.

  She opened the door and stood radiant in a luscious one-piece swimming suit.

  “You must make it. Remember to take care of that too after you transfer my money,” she instructed before heading out for a swim.

  He liked this girl. He was annoyed that she seemed to understand the Twins better than he did, but she was fun. The emails for transferring the money and reserving the villa were already on his phone. He reviewed each carefully, then sent them without a change.

  Walking out to the front deck, he watched appreciatively as Rachel emerged from the turquoise blue ocean and strolled up the beach to the shower where she rinsed off. He met her with a towel and robe.

  “I’m going to like being rich,” she announced as she dried off. “Did you send the transfer instructions and reservation request?”

  He nodded, “I resent them. The emails were already on my phone.”

  “Do you ever remember composing any of the emails to the Twins?”

  He shook his head.

  “Figures.”

  She stood and took the robe. “I’m going to the boutique to get me a dress suitable for our celebration. I think $4,000 will be enough.”

  He peeled off $6,000. “Go for stunning.”

  “You’re not a bad guy Dave.”

  He watched her walk down the beach then forced himself to look away and think. He couldn’t decide if things were going according to plan or completely screwed up, but he really didn’t care. This was fun. His phone chirped.

  “Dave, it is Sunrise,” TJ announced.

  “And hello to you too.”

  “A man just booked seats on a Sunrise flight to Washington. He used a known terrorist alias. Your friend was right, Sunrise is involved, although probably without their knowledge,” she continued.

  “That will teach you to doubt me. So now you shut them down.”

  “We’re setting a trap. This is all very confidential, but team of operatives is on their way now. We’ll scrutinize everyone and everything that tries to fly out on Sunrise.”

  “TJ, that is great. You are brilliant,” he lied with genuine relief. “And you’re headed back to the lab?”

  “Not yet, I’ve been transferred for now, so I still need your help.”

  “Just name it.”

  “Get me another lead. I need to pull this off.”

  “Anything to put you in my debt.”

  “Dave,” she admonished sharply, “get me that lead and I’ll forget the castration.”

  Thirty-eight minutes later he stood dressed in a white dinner jacket outside the lady’s boutique at the resort’s main building. Rachel emerged in an exquisitely cut short black dress accented with a single string of pearls.

  “It looks like you’re finally ready to celebrate too.”

  He nodded and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  She took his arm and steered him toward the formal dining room.

  “You look awfully good for a former naval aviator,” he teased.

  “And you look awfully calm for a man trying to figure out how to save his country and his girl.”

  “So how did you know,” he asked.

  “Sebastian Ortiz is on our watch list. When he, you, booked a flight to D.C., it must have a set off a hundred alarms. They’re going to watch Sunrise, aren’t they?”

  He nodded, impressed.

  “How could you be certain the government wouldn’t screw up the hint,” he asked.

  “$300,006. If you had transferred $300,008 I would have known to try something else. Or if you had sent nothing or $300,007, I would have broken your legs, and arms.”

  “And $300,005,” he asked, extrapolating.

  “You don’t want to know, or find out,” she smiled sweetly. “But, you came through and I delivered. I told you I’d be worth every penny.”

  “And you were,” he grinned, looking her over carefully, “Nice job with the bomb too. So, aside from another extravagant dollar fee, anything you want is yours,” he offered, bowing slightly.

  “Well, if you’re going to get cheap on me, I’ll just have to settle for dinner and dancing.”

  Preparations

  Wednesday 8:00 p.m.

  "That will be 220 US dollars," the clerk announced
.

  Monique handed him her credit card. It was a good thing Dave had given her a large advance. The chartered flight, the phone, and the car and boat she would rent were expensive, and wouldn't come out of her fee.

  The clerk handed her the receipt and she turned to leave. But as she exited the small airport shop, three men surrounded her. She immediately recognized Jorge, one of Max's men.

  "Monique," he smiled, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Max has been looking for you. I am glad that you are here."

  She kicked him quickly in the groin, and as he doubled over in pain, she slipped past him and ran down the corridor. They were surprised, but they would recover quickly, so she turned into the first opening for restrooms that she came to. Instead of entering the women's, she dashed into the men's.

  She ran headlong into a short man with a thick mustache who was about to exit.

  "I need you," she gasped, pushing him into a nearby stall.

  He was about to protest, but she began to kiss him and unbuttoned his shirt. Timidly, he put his arms around her.

  She heard a scream from the women's section on the other side of the wall.

  "Stand like this," she whispered, turning him around to face forward in the stall.

  She hopped nimbly onto the toilet, crouched down, and held her breath.

  "Don't move," she whispered.

  She heard the door to the restroom burst open, and moments later someone dropped to the floor, checking under the stalls. And then there was more running in the door banged open again.

  "Jealous lover," she whispered to the man, spinning him around and kissing him again.

  He tried to slide a hand up her thigh.

  "Not yet," she panted, pushing the hand away.

  She kept him at bay for another 10 minutes, then suddenly unlocked the stall and ran.

  “Merci," she called behind her, then shuttered.

  Dave would pay extra for that. She ducked into the women's restroom next door, and found an open stall. There