“Mr. Sapphire. Yes. It's me.” The president explained briefly. “We'll be right there.”
* * *
FRITZ LOOKED AT the extravagant decorations, placed a paperclip on the room marked “Living Room” and returned to the hall. Tony who had been ignored until now, caught Fritz's look, and nodded. Fritz opened the door and told Ashley to hold it. He led the rest in and Tim called out. They could hear steps approach from a distance.
When he reached his living room, and saw the crowd, he asked, “How did you get in? No one called announcing you.” He looked at his visitors, three with pistols drawn. “What's going on? Hello, Emily dear. Mr. President.”
Tim said, “It's a long story, Jim.”
Fritz interrupted. “No, it's not. Mr. Sapphire, Tim told you about the portal. You told someone else. Who?”
“Mr. Russell, nice to see you again. Will someone tell me what's going on, please?”
The president explained the story, including the fact that Tim had sworn an oath, which he violated by telling Sapphire. When the president said that the fact Sapphire knew violated Federal espionage law, Sapphire began to perspire.
“Let's sit down, shall we?”
“Mr. Sapphire, we need to find the people you told,” said the president. “We believe the person or persons are responsible for Linda's disappearance, as well as the murder of a man acting on our behalf.”
“Should I have my attorney?”
Fritz said, “You people are all the same. Protect yourselves, regardless.”
“Fritz, let me handle this,” said Emily. “Jimmy, Tim told you about the secret weapon, which he shouldn't have. Do you remember who you might have told?”
Sapphire held up his hand to stop her. His face contorted, and he raised fingers. “I remember telling four people. Maybe more. Honestly, I've known Tim to have a devilish streak and believed he was pulling my chain. A real cloaking device? I looked everywhere for information for investments I might have missed. But their information is at the office.”
“Then let's go,” said the president.
“No, wait,” Fritz said. “Do you have a picture, like of you at your desk?”
“Yes,” Sapphire said.
“Get it. If we use the portal, it'll be faster. Call Ms. Crispin. We'll need her to find these people.” When the president reached for his phone, it struck him that he had just given the president an order. “Please.”
Sapphire returned with a picture. “If you will join us,” said the president. Sapphire agreed and headed for a closet. “You won't need a coat.”
* * *
Sapphire looked up and down the hallway. He remarked that his previous visits were under more normal conditions. When Tim said he had told him it was real, Fritz scowled and said, “Yeah, you told him.” Before another argument could begin, Sapphire said, “Mr. Russell, you certainly are not what you seem. What do we do now?”
“Now we go to your office,” said the president. Fritz took the picture, set the paperclip, and opened to the inner sanctum of one of Wall Street's financial overlords. Fritz held the door, glowering at the dumbfounded looks of Sapphire and his father-in-law. Emily patted his arm as she passed, TJ in her clutch.
Sapphire checked his desk. Unlike what Fritz expected, the room contained none of the trappings of power, other than the high gleam of the desk's polish. In front of the desk, three chairs waited for occupants. Two long tables, one a work space, the other a small conference table, also gleamed.
Emily noticed Fritz's scan, and said, “Jimmy's never been the showy type, Fritz.” Sapphire looked up. He told them for all public occasions he used another office up on the next floor. “Mr. Russell, you may not believe it, but we really do work here on the Street.”
Fritz bit his tongue to keep from commenting. After all, Sapphire had helped raise money for the school's scholarships. “Do you have the names?” asked Fritz.
“If you'll give me a minute. Every call I take or make is on a list my secretary sends every day after work. Just to be sure I remember everyone.” The computer screen lit, Sapphire tapped his access codes, and found the file. A clicking and shuffling sound came from the corner and his printer spit out a sheet of paper. He handed it to the president.
A quick button push later, the president read the names to Ms. Crispin. “She'll call back when she has everything. Let's go back to the school. Bring your cell phone, Mr. Sapphire. You'll need to call these people.”
Sapphire and Tim walked toward the trophy case, accompanied by the agents. When Sapphire saw the lobby and the history baseball tournament trophy, he walked back. “Well, I've sure been here before. This really is your school, Mr. Russell. Can you tell me how this works?”
Fritz said, “Not yet. You have a conversation coming up. And unlike some others, you'll swear an oath you'll be expected to keep.” His scorn tempted Tim to respond, but the president said he would explain when they had accomplished their mission.
Ms. Crispin called in a matter of minutes and delivered the images she had obtained. She couldn't find any information about one of them. Richard Salzmann didn't exist.
“That's him,” said Fritz. “Do you have any other info about him?”
“Don't jump to conclusions, Fritz,” Tim said. “She could have made a mistake.”
With another argument imminent, the president stepped in. He said that Fritz was right and the elusive man had once again avoided them. “Mr. Sapphire, have you ever met him?”
He said he had and described him.
“That's the description of the guy who disappeared from the Hay-Adams when the Summit was attacked,” Ashley said. “You send materials to him, and checks for dividends, that kind of thing. He must get them. Where do they go?”
Sapphire read the list again. “A Post Office box.”
“Where?” Ashley asked.
“Paris.”
“We need some help,” said the president. He asked Ms. Crispin to call the French president.
Chapter 33
THE PLANE TAXIED to the hangar. When the door opened, the odor of gunpowder erupted from the cabin, mixing with the fumes of exhausted fuel.
“Is she alive?” he asked.
“Yeah. I put on an oxygen mask. She's probably cold, but that's it.”
“Put her in the other room in the barn. I'll talk to her later. Ditch the plane. And blow it up. Take an inflatable boat with you. Get to work.”
* * *
ENTERING THE SUMMIT ROOM across the hall, the president asked everyone to sit. “Mr. Sapphire, Mr. Reid, Mr. McConnell, you have witnessed our newest technology. The media labeled it a secret weapon. As you can see, it is no longer secret, at least not to you.” He glanced at Tim. “Mr. Miller violated his oath when he spoke to you. And you can now see the consequences. Our priority is finding Linda and then the man named Salzmann. As FBI agents, you understand this is Top Secret. Mr. Sapphire, I am asking you to swear in front of witnesses that you will not mention this again, to anyone. If you do, the penalty will be severe.” He stood in front of Tim, sitting with a look which was a strange mix of fear and arrogance. “I'll deal with you later.” The president asked Emily if she would escort the agents to their car. He handed each a card with his personal phone, telling them to call if they found anything. He assured them he would clear their reassignment with their boss. Fritz directed them to the hall, set the portal and the agents followed Emily through.
“Tim, you're in trouble,” said the president. “I didn't want to say anything with Emily here.”
“Mr. President, I can only say I'm sorry.” The president raised a hand to stop him.
“ 'Sorry' doesn't work for me. You and I will discuss this later. But let me say this. You've not only put your daughter in danger, but you've endangered the very country that has allowed you the benefits of the life you live. Everything has a price.”
Emily came back to a silent hallway. “What did I miss?” Fritz handed TJ back to her. The baby seemed to und
erstand the importance of quiet. He hadn't made a sound and his head dropped to Emily's shoulder.
Fritz said, “Emily, you should take him home. We may have a long night. Ash, would you drive her? Mel, do you have a gun you can give him?” She reached to her ankle and pulled up the trouser leg.
“If you find him, Fritz, call me,” Ash said. “I have a score to settle, too.”
Fritz led the remaining group into his classroom. The president walked to the back of the room, rubbing behind his left ear. Mel Zack stood by the door. When the president's phone rang, all heads turned to him.
“Thank you, Monsieur President. I have a request. I believe we have a chance now to capture the man behind the attacks on our summit in the spring.” The president explained what he wanted done.
“I think Ash was right. Going after the rest of Mr. Sapphire's clients is a waste of time. He's the one.”
“I agree. Mr. Sapphire, do you have any other records on this guy?”
“I've met him twice that I can remember. He said once that he represented a number of investors.”
“Caballeros?” asked Fritz.
Startled, Sapphire said he had seen the name but couldn't remember the context. He asked if they could go back to his office. “I've seen an account in that name.” Fritz had the picture on his desk, and in an instant, they returned to Wall Street. Sapphire scanned through client lists for the name, Caballeros. He printed the transactions and the name on the account. The president read it and handed it to Fritz.
“The late Marvin Atkinson. We're on target, Mr. President. But the address is Sioux Falls. So we still have to find Richemartel. Another dead end. Any word yet about the people on the boat?”
“Not yet. When they get home, we have agents waiting for them. It might not be until tomorrow.”
“So, what now?”
“Mr. Sapphire, can you think of anything else?”
“My secretary files things so well I've never needed to check. I can call her now, or have her look in the morning.”
“Now,” Fritz said.
“No, Fritz. We have other things to do first. Mr. Sapphire, I'll expect to hear from you by 9:30. That won't interfere with the market opening.
* * *
THE PRESIDENT SAID, “Fritz, I'm afraid we can't do much more tonight. I hate leaving Linda to fend for herself, but I just don't have any ideas.”
Under his breath, yet loud enough not to be missed, Tim said, “No surprise.”
The president glared, but Fritz said, “Shut up, Tim. This is your fault. Your daughter could be dead because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.”
“Fritz, get him home. Mel, put his name on the no-fly list. I need to get the FBI to put an agent at his house.” Fritz could see a list forming as he spoke. “Get him out of here. Fritz, come with me to my office. We may be a while yet, Tony. Do you need anything before we go?”
“I'm okay for now. Nat's on her way. She'll keep me company.”
* * *
ON A COT IN the corner, Linda tried to clear her head. Her head ached and her left arm burned. A single bare bulb shed the only light. The air smelled like hay. A door broke the pattern of rough-hewn plank walls. In the middle of the room, suspended from the ceiling, a large metal hook swayed in a light breeze coming through a hole in the wall. Two men entered and ended her solitude. The younger stood by the door and the older man carried a chair from the corner.
“Ms. Russell, I need information that you have. You will find that your cooperation will serve you best.”
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“Neither question matters at the moment. I am informed that you have information about a secret weapon. Tell me about it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father said you have information about a secret weapon. So tell me.”
“Where's my father. Have you hurt him?”
“No. He's fine. Old men don't interest me. But my nephew likes young women.” He swept his hand toward the door. “It's getting rather late. I'm sure you would prefer spending the night on the cot, but,” he walked to the hook and pushed it, and watched it swing, “we can make other accommodations.”
“You're going to torture me?”
“Torture is an ugly word. Persuade is a better one. But I am offering you a choice. I assure you by morning, you'll speak freely.” He made a point of smiling at her and when he had her looking, he turned to Joe.
“You look familiar,” Linda said. “You look like the president's advisor. Koppler.”
“Why don't we exchange information. I'll go first and then you can answer my question. Jimmy was my younger brother. He committed suicide, alas. MB believed he had the magic to make changes in this awful world.”
“MB?”
“We called each other by initials. Our grandfather taught us that, when our father deserted the family business. To become a teacher, of all things. MB is 'my brother'. He called me BOM, 'brother of mine'.”
“He didn't kill himself. He tried to kill the president.”
“Well, you are proving to understand our bargain. I give, you give. Now I have a new question to add to our list. Who killed him?”
Linda registered that her temper and her anger at the situation had now put her family at risk. “I wasn't there.”
“I see. Who told you?”
“A secret service agent. His name was James Williams.”
“Was?”
“He was killed in the White House attack.”
“You seem to have an abundance of information. We will be having more conversations over next few weeks. So all you need to do now is answer my first question.”
“I don't remember what it was.”
“That's all right. You will. Won't she, Joe?”
Chapter 34
A PIERCING SCREAM, a female voice, startled Linda from a deep sleep. Her shoulders ached. The burning on her back brought the night rushing back. Above her, draped over the meat hook, her hands taped together looked like she was praying. She looked down at her half-naked body, with stripes and welts that looked like movie scenes of whippings. Behind her, the door opened.
“Good morning, Ms. Russell. Did you have a good sleep?” Richemartel spoke as though nothing strange had affected him.
“Let me down.”
He walked around her, inspecting her bare back and chest. “You look like you've hurt yourself. Now are you ready to answer my question?”
“Go to hell.” He laughed, a mirthless sound filling the stale air. “Why are you doing this?”
“Well, I must say you're not what I expected. Okay, we'll trade information again. You go first this time.”
“You have my name. I don't have a rank or serial number.”
“Tell me about the secret weapon.”
“So you can kill the president. I won't.”
“If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead by now. He trusts too many people. Even those close to him can be persuaded. Persuade. See, once again, that excellent word appears for us. You must understand that I have too much at stake to let him upset the balance. He's a fool.”
“So you attacked the summit, sank the ships?”
“You are quite well-informed about current events. But I did none of those things. My fight is to protect the freedom that this country is giving away. Most people are ready to go to war. That's why the election matters so much. Our country's freedom is at stake.”
In spite of her condition, his comments set her brain in full alert. “That's bull. You're the one who tried to kill my husband.”
His blank look shrieked back. He didn't know. She tried to watch him but as he stepped behind her, he ran a finger along a welt, still raw and vulnerable. She gritted her teeth.
“Your husband is the school teacher. Of course. I'm glad you're here. He killed my youngest brother last Thanksgiving.” She flinched as he stroked another welt, taking his time over each inch. The pain kept her from talking. When he pushed hard, sh
e gasped.
“He didn't. A cop shot him. Your brother killed a cop.”
“How did they detect the … what shall we call it, the visit?”
“More like an attack. You should be used to that. Someone working with Koppler told them.”
“Thank you, Ms. Russell. You are filling in the blanks nicely. Jimmy was always so secretive. Let him do what he wanted, he said, but he should have told me. I could have helped. But now, you will tell me.”
His gray eyes bored into her blues. “You don't look like a farmer.” She examined him from head to foot. “Designer jeans, silk shirt. Even those boots look custom-made.”
“You have a good eye. For now at least. I hope you'll excuse me now. I have another guest to visit. Joe will be here soon.”
* * *
IN ANOTHER BARN workroom, a grinding wheel dominated the bench, surrounded by blades of all shapes and sizes. Any tool with a blade hung on the wall. Farther down, knives, axes, and cleavers were mounted in leather sheaths. On the far wall, weapons that would never be needed on a farm sparkled in the high window sunlight. Swords, bayonets, scimitars, and throwing stars hung, enough to outfit a company of ninjas.
Brie dangled by her wrists, and blood stained the ground at her feet. Unlike her fellow prisoner, she hadn't been whipped. Her scar had been re-carved. Only when Joe had poured a bucket of salt water on the open wound had she screamed.
The knives didn't scare her. But Joe did. Standing next to her with a half dozen glistening blades, he displayed his skills at a target of a human outline. He said he would see her later. She shivered, not from the exposure, but from the sound of his voice. Incapacitated for the moment, she measured his carelessness. He had skills from a distance, or when he had complete control. She could beat him in a knife fight, but dreaded what new cruelty he had planned for “later.”
“Good morning, Ms. Sanderson,” said Richemartel. “Are you ready to answer my question?”
“Are you ready to call off your dog?”
Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5) Page 18