The Clause

by Brian Wiprud

  “Well, I don’t know what else to call it, and it’s just as complicated as any mission I ever devised. The Chinese want to take it off my hands for ten, or nothing if they can figure a way.”

  “Ten million. Man.”

  “And I can’t count out the Cubans. I’m on friendly terms with them, but there’s an understanding that everybody is out for their own interests, part of the rules of engagement.”

  “Mind if I do a little head shrinking, Gill?”

  “Have at it.”

  “You realize that the world you created as a jewel thief to replace the military is exactly the same, don’t you? I mean, you hear yourself, right? Operations, rules of engagement. The idea was to create a new persona for yourself, one divorced of the past.”

  “I realize all that. Now.”

  “So let me get this straight. You have the Serbs, the Tong, and the Corporation after you? Have you left anybody out?”

  “Feds.”

  “Damn, you don’t do anything halfway, do you, Gill? Which ones?”

  “FBI has been following the action through surveillance. I’m guessing they’ve been following the Serbs trying to make a bust, and then suddenly I came along and fouled everything up. Now of course they want me to turn for them, with the usual assurances.”

  “You and me have had a belly full of those assurances. How on earth do you think you can make the exchange with all these parties involved?”

  I grinned, with little enthusiasm. “I have a few ideas, but it’s going to be dicey.”

  “You didn’t come here just to talk, did you?”

  “I did. Mostly.”

  “You need something diversionary, in a small package.”

  “Yup. I need a diversion and I need a hot tamale.”

  “I’m not sure I should help you, because I’m not sure it will. I think it might just make things a lot worse.”

  I met his eye. “How exactly could it be worse?”

  He frowned and stared at the gravestone.

  “I don’t do that stuff anymore, Gill. People get hurt.”

  “The same way I don’t do that stuff anymore?”

  “It’s fireworks. I think of it as fireworks.”

  “Can you make me some fireworks that I can detonate with a cell phone?”

  Larry stood and walked around the gravestone. “You don’t need to do this, Gill, you can just walk away. It won’t bring her back.”

  “Nobody needed to shoot her. She didn’t have a gun, she was on a bicycle, pedaling up the road. Just say no and that’s that, no regrets. I can make do on my own. Though I can’t guarantee what I come up with will be as controlled as what you would.”

  “You knew being a jewel thief was dangerous. You took your chances and now there are consequences.”

  “We had an exit strategy, and I still do. Trudy would want us to get away with what we took. If for nothing else, she’d hate the Kurac that did it to her. I have a place to go to recover and leave all this behind once and for all. I’ve lost too many people I cared about. I can’t do it anymore. I realize that. Now.”

  “Have you ever heard of synchronicity, Gill?”

  I shook my head.

  “Life is made up of events that sometimes happen at the same time as other events and create a result or outcome that was unanticipated.”

  “You mean the fact that Trudy and I happened to target this guy’s apartment just when the Serbs were storing gems there? You’re not going to dive into some sort of space-time continuum crap, are you?”

  “Would it make it easier to call it the collective unconscious?”

  “Either way, what does this have to do with my exit strategy?”

  “Destiny, not fate. These things that have happened and what will happen next may have a life of their own, are destined, and there may be some other event or person you can’t even anticipate that will change the game. But your destiny does not have to be your fate. What I’m saying is, don’t turn this into a suicide mission to take out the people who killed Trudy. Trudy wouldn’t want that, would she? She would want you to get away.”

  “I didn’t have in mind a suicide mission.”

  “You may not know what you really intended. What sort of device you come up with if I didn’t help you?”

  “Nitrates and fuel oil, what else?”

  “And the hot tamale?”

  “Kerosene and benzene.”

  “What’s the incendiary tamale for?”

  “Destroying evidence.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “A car.”

  “And your detonators?”

  “Model rocket engines, battery pack, remote control toy.”

  “Going all Radio Shack here, I see.” Larry grimaced. “Do you even have any idea how much you need to first blow out one car and then burn the other one to the ground?”

  I shook my head.

  “Benzene and kerosene? Where’s your oxidizer?” He stood, and locked his hooks behind his back. “You have to promise me there will be no innocent bystanders killed or injured. That kind of bad karma sticks a lifetime. On you and on me.”

  “Promise.”

  Larry walked through the patches of sunlight to the bridge, Marianna trotting behind, and me a few steps behind her. We crossed the creek, past the barn, around back of the house to where a rusty steel shipping container stood. Opening the back doors of the container revealed a wall of what looked like old chairs, banisters, dressers that had been salvaged for parts. He pulled away two chairs, pushed aside a dresser, and revealed a concealed metal door. A key on a long chain from his overalls unlocked the door. He shoved it open, and pulled the chain on a battery-operated light.

  “This is my lab. You have a phone you want to use?”

  I handed him Phone #3 and we both sat at a workbench surrounded by hand-operated hobby tools like awls and coping saws and files. There were rolls of wire, plastic drawers, and large Tupperware along the surrounding walls. The place smelled like linseed oil and hydrogen peroxide. I had no idea why.

  Larry opened a drawer and handed me a set of small screwdrivers. “Remove the back of the phone.”

  While I did that, he turned on a battery-powered soldering iron. He reached into an insulated drink cooler. From it he came up with what looked like a brick of shrink-wrapped white cheddar and set it on the counter. He opened a few plastic trays and picked out small lengths of wire and what looked like what would be the blasting cap. From a large drawer he selected a battery holder and six AA batteries. On a shelf he found a cigar box.

  “Got it open?” Larry held a pair of pliers.

  I handed over the phone, back removed. He glanced it over, found the counterweight that made it vibrate, and rolled it into the housing. Then snapped off a piece of the outer casing on the side where the counterweight could be accessed. “Put it back together.”

  While I did that, he mixed some epoxy, and glued the block of cheese into the right corner of the cigar box, and the battery pack into the center. I handed him the reassembled phone and he glued that into the left corner.

  “Anybody have the number to this phone other than you?”

  “You’re the only one I called on it. Except for directory assistance.”

  “Good. I’m setting it for vibrate and then making sure it’s off. Don’t turn it on until you’re ready to arm it. And make sure it is still on vibrate, otherwise it won’t work.”

  “Got it.”

  Larry wired and soldered the batteries into a circuit that would connect the batteries to the hot detonator. The trigger was a small plug with two wire ends extending from the end. He pointed to it.

  “When the phone vibrates, the counterweight spins and connects these two wire ends, completing the circuit.�
�

  He used a circuit tester to check that the circuit was hot before removing a battery and setting it inside the box.

  “Here’s what you do. Step one: turn on the phone. Wait to make sure that there are no messages or anything from the service provider that will make it vibrate and blow you up. Step two: plug the trigger into the hole in the side of the phone—about like this. Step three: insert the battery into the power pack. Step four: attach the alligator clips to the cap, holding it away from the charge in case it goes off because of some unforeseen change in the setup. Step five: insert the cap into the charge, place the cigar box where you want it, and get away from it.”

  “How powerful is it?”

  “It’ll demolish that car of yours, likely kill anybody inside if it’s under the front seat or on the back seat, likely injure anybody standing near it.”

  “That’s some firework.”

  “Something tells me you’re going to need a sizeable distraction if you plan to get away. You ever hear of a Mark 77?”

  “The new napalm bombs.” Technically they weren’t napalm, but they amounted to the same thing, and were dropped from F-18s.

  “Mm-hm. Hot tamales made with kerosene and benzene, but they have an oxidizer, thermite, and a touch of white phosphorus, just for fun. Melts the snow and ice off my driveway in February but quick.” Larry stood and dragged a heavy, white pickle bucket from the corner. “In the Gulf, ground troops liked to flush out caves with the stuff, only it wasn’t regular issue, was only supposed to be used from the air. Seems someone figured it wasn’t PC to kill the enemy that way, even if it meant it put the good guys in harm’s way. So we sometimes helped out the infantry on the sly.”

  He pried open the pickle bucket. It was filled with water. It was also filled with olive-drab cylinders about the size of a submarine sandwich. Larry lifted one out with both hooks and dried it on his coveralls. One hook tapped at a cap on one end of the cylinder. “There are four notches. Each one is five seconds. Turn it all the way, that’s twenty seconds before it goes off. Then you pull the cotter pin out of this hole and get away.”

  “Burn a car to the ground?”

  “The engine block won’t burn completely.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.” I stood.

  “You can thank me by taking out the bastards that killed Trudy and getting your ass out of town and into recovery.” He stood too, and guided me out of the container. “Drop me a postcard so I can have some satisfaction that I’ve done the right thing, because I fear I haven’t. At the same time I see you’d try to pull the escape using crap ordinance, and if you didn’t make it, and bystanders got hurt, I’d feel it was partially my fault. You had me over a barrel and you knew it.”

  “I didn’t think of it that way, Larry, and now I feel bad.” We stopped next to my car.

  “Don’t feel bad, just get the hell out with the goods and drop me a postcard.” He pointed a hook at me. “Repeat the five steps for the cell phone.”

  “Turn on the phone, make sure there are no messages that will vibrate the phone. Insert the trigger. Insert the battery. Attach the gator clips, hope the cap doesn’t burn. Insert cap into the charge and place under seat and get away from the car.”

  “If you blow yourself up, or injure any innocent bystanders, I’m really gonna feel like a dirtbag for helping you.”

  I gave him a hug. “Wait for that postcard.”

  As I drove up the gravel driveway, Larry, Marianna, and the shotgun were in my rearview mirror exactly as I had seen them when I arrived.

  Tito’s watch. Two o’clock: time to call Vugovic and get the show on the road. I raced along the interstate back toward the city.

  Thirty-five

  EUROPEAN ORGANIZED CRIME TASK FORCE

  MEETING MINUTES

  1500 EDT MONDAY AUGUST 9, 2010

  ATTENDANCE: LOG ATTACHED

  Re: Kurac gem theft ring—recent developments re: G. Underwood

  1. Agent Hurtado of forensics reported that Dell laptop (Vostro 1000) recovered from the Screen Man van contained mostly invoicing, accounting, and scheduling software commonly used by small businesses (see handout for complete list of hard drive contents). Browser history had been deleted, but cached data revealed searches on the residence (phone number, occupant identity and bio, Google Earth) of 11M at the Grand Excelsior belonging to T. Raykovic, the residence that G. Underwood burgled. Word documents limited to a handful of short poems, many of which had been deleted but were cached. Also included was an incomplete letter to an aunt in California dated in 2009 that included only the header and no text.

  2. Intel Profiler Agent Laurenta noted that the poems were not included in the handout and asked that a copy be provided for circulation.

  3. EOCTF Agents Brown and Acosta apprised superiors on contact with G. Underwood for exchange at Grand Central Terminal with Kurac. See transcript. Cooperation agreed in exchange for immediate medical attention for T. Elwell and probation for both. Time of exchange contingent on call from G. Underwood to Vugovic. Agents in place at station under cover and await alert and instruction of exchange location. Assuming exchange will be requested as one-on-one and that Kurac will pepper station with their people to apprehend G. Underwood and recover the cash/bond payment (ten million dollars). Agents in field equipped with lethal and non-lethal (Tasers) weapons to subdue Vugovic and G. Underwood and any Kurac operatives necessary or possible and to avoid any possible collateral damage to bystanders. Coordination with National Guard and NYPD initiated. Grand Central effectively netted for capture.

  4. Intel Profiler Agent Laurenta provided input on G. Underwood M.O. Based on previous observations and meeting from same morning, Intel Profiler warned against contact with G. Underwood, as multilayered subterfuge not yet apparent but should not be discounted. Agent Laurenta repeated that it should be anticipated that G. Underwood will use the Kurac and the FBI at cross-purposes to help effect his escape. As before, if it is suspected that G. Underwood is aware of the Justice Department involvement, he will likely attempt to enact a “cascade” in which each pursuer eliminates or paralyzes the other until there is only one pursuer.

  5. Agents Kim and Bola of Intel Surveillance section reported data mining of Social Security records indicate that G. Underwood #842-00-1010 DOB August 23, 1971, Clifton, New Jersey is registered as deceased as of August 2005. Death certificate indicates accidental death. G. Underwood was a window cleaner who fell twenty stories to his death in downtown Manhattan. The identity of G. Underwood therefore is in question.

  6. EOCTF Supervisor Palmer asked why this information was not available previously on August 9, 2010.

  7. Agents Kim and Bola of Intel Surveillance section reported that the Social Security data center servers were down for Sunday maintenance.

  8. EOCTF Supervisor Palmer asked EOCTF Agents Brown and Acosta if a fingerprint check was run on G. Underwood from his apartment.

  9. Agents Brown and Acosta confirmed that they had no reason to believe G. Underwood was not G. Underwood. DNA hair samples were collected and sent to lab August 8th, results not expected for at least a week from the NSA.

  10. EOCTF Supervisor Palmer instructed Agents Brown and Acosta to gather the fingerprint check immediately on “G. Underwood” from his apartment. In addition, requested Intel Profiler’s assessment of G. Underwood’s actual identity.

  11. Intel Profiler Agent Laurenta suggested that G. Underwood could still be the actual G. Underwood “ghosting” through identity theft.

  12. Agents Kim and Bola of Intel Surveillance section reported surveillance subsystems targeting Nee Fat Tong have been successful in cell phone intercepts with the help of Tse Mo Shin, 22, male, Chinese national, illegal alien, who turned informer. Agent Kang of intel surveillance, his handler, obtained his cell phone number and service provider and subscripts of all
numbers he calls leading to matrix of Nee Fat Tong cell phones. All phones being monitored for G. Underwood transmission.

  13. EOCTF Supervisor Palmer initiated discussion of G. Underwood’s options. He can exchange with the Kurac or he can exchange with Nee Fat Tong. With the Kurac he obtains FBI blanket medical for T. Elwell and safety for both. With the Nee Fat Tong he obtains ten million dollars and possible escape. Which is his most likely course of action?

  14. Intel Profiler Agent Laurenta suggested that G. Underwood had engineered the double exchange option as a way of dividing his enemies’ forces. FBI was lured into making contact with him so that he could use them to intercept the Kurac and make way for his exchange with the Nee Fat Tong. T. Elwell has been used as false indicator of his motivation and likely dead or already out of the state/country. Reference made to Intel Profiler’s memorandum of August 9th regarding the psychological profile of G. Underwood. Agents should recognize that G. Underwood is emotionally unstable and prone to PTSD relapse at any time. This could manifest itself in uncharacteristically violent behavior. G. Underwood is also highly resistant to authority figures. This combination could prove dangerous when he is apprehended.

  15. EOCTF Agents Brown and Acosta suggested that the FBI obtains goals either way. If G. Underwood does not show at Grand Central Terminal, surveillance and informer with Nee Fat Tong will afford an intercept if he attempts to exchange with them.

  16. EOCTF Supervisor Palmer advised extreme caution at Grand Central Terminal to ensure that the Kurac are not apprehended prematurely and that gunplay in a transportation hub is avoided at all cost. Intercepts indicate the Kurac have obtained fully automatic weapons from the New Jersey Russian syndicate. Coordinate with NYPD.

  17. Agents Kim and Bola of Intel Surveillance section reported intercepts coming through currently in real time from G. Underwood to Vugovic, stand by for speaker phone:

  *TRANSCRIPT OF SPEAKER PHONE*

  • YES?

  • IT’S UNDERWOOD.