Zero Margin: Nick Stryker, Book Three The Shallow End Gals (Nick Stryker Series 3)

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Zero Margin: Nick Stryker, Book Three The Shallow End Gals (Nick Stryker Series 3) Page 5

by Vicki Graybosch


  Half a beer later he glanced at the locked door at the end of the hall. When Dr. Sanchez woke from the sedative, she was going to be trouble. He had seen the fire in her eyes when he dug the locators from her arm, neck, and thigh. She had spit on him and declared he would die for his actions. He had wanted to pistol whip her senseless, but didn’t dare. She was valuable to them for some reason and his job was to keep her isolated for a few days, drop her near Deadwood, and leave.

  A crashing sound came from behind her door and he raced to the one-way mirror in the adjacent room. She had thrown a chair at the mirror and stood cursing at the glass. He watched her pound her fists on the mirror and then run her hands over her forehead and through her hair. She was thinking, her eyes scanning the room like a caged tiger.

  She was definitely going to be trouble.

  *****

  Benson reviewed the extensive trail of communications generated from Dr. Kyser’s two calls this morning. The control room had projected a visual map for him on the main amphitheater display. He stood, hands on his hips, and analyzed the multicolored lines that shot back and forth across the world map before him.

  “Show me just the blue line communications.”

  The red and white lines instantly disappeared.

  “Replay the connections as they occurred from the second call.”

  One blue dot in Malaysia shot a line to New York City that shot a line to Chicago and then on to Lead, South Dakota. One hour later the dot from Lead, South Dakota shot a line back to the same number in New York City and the communications stopped.

  “Interesting. Let me hear the conversations.”

  A tech at the center console moved his headphones to respond. “Sir, we do not have the conversations from NSA yet. They need a couple of hours.”

  “Get them to rush. Patch the interrogation of Dr. Kyser to my office in five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Benson was stopped by Darren before he reached his office door. “Sir, we have a security alert at the Lead facility. Two agents have been fatally shot and Dr. Angel Sanchez of the DIANA team has been kidnapped. The details are on your monitor, sir. Also, Dr. Elliott Nobel and his team are now at the interrogation facility. Agent Patton will be conducting that interview and is awaiting your instructions.”

  Benson sensed the worst was yet to come. “It’s going to be long day, Darren.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Darren watched Benson disappear behind his office door. He reached down to his lower drawer, grabbed his oversized bottle of TUMS and placed it on the corner of his desk. As he chewed two tablets, he wondered how much worse the day could get. A security breach of the DIANA project seemed to be the worst scenario he could imagine. That technology in the wrong hands would certainly bring about another world war. While DIANA was championed a climate control project, the technology promised to be the world’s most effective weapon system.

  Benson’s order to clear his calendar for today had at least provided some warning. Darren glanced at his watch and then rubbed his temples. It seemed it was taking forever to get the information they needed. It was like guessing what was on the buffet based on the crumbs left on the floor.

  Benson placed a call to Agent Patton at the interrogation facility. “I want to watch Kyser and Nobel together. Put them in the same room, alone, and send me the feed.”

  Agent Patton responded, “We have the members of the U.S. team and the second in command of the Malaysian team all waiting to assist us in interpreting the interviews. I also have an astrophysicist from the International Council here. Would you like them to observe and comment, sir?”

  Benson immediately liked that idea. “Yes, send the video and audio of them observing to me, too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Benson paged Darren to join him. Darren entered the office and took his place next to Benson and in front of the communication control panel.

  Benson glanced at Darren. “Do you like horror films, Darren?”

  *****

  Elliott was ushered down a long hall to a conference room with two walls of one-way glass. He had yet to see any other member of his team. Elliott’s first surprise was that Dr. Gustoff Kyser was sitting at the small conference table.

  After the guard left and they were alone, Elliott asked, “Gustoff, what in the world is happening?”

  Gustoff answered, “Surely you realize we are being watched and recorded?”

  Elliott raised his voice. “I don’t give a shit. Do you know what’s happening? What have you done?”

  Gustoff smiled at one of the mirrored walls, “Clever. I suppose you assume I haven’t figured out your little bait and switch game?”

  Elliott stood. “Bait and switch? What in the world are you talking about? This isn’t a game. A commercial airliner was diverted in order for the International Council to question myself and my team! This has to be about DIANA.”

  Gustoff frowned at Elliott. “Maybe the CIA doesn’t believe your bogus science either.”

  Elliott’s mind spun. What was Gustoff saying? He didn’t believe there was a fatal flaw? The test results had been conclusive. Elliott sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “I’m not sure what we are doing here, but I am sure of the science. Did you bother to review the reports I sent you? They are irrefutable.”

  Gustoff chuckled. “Irrefutable? More like predictable and phony. I half expected your team to run into some kind of wall to ensure the dismissal of the mirror team once the project was completed.” Gustoff leaned back and smirked. “I didn’t need to look at your findings, Elliott. I suspected they were bogus when you called the meeting.”

  Elliott couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Didn’t you bother to run the means tests I sent you prior to my arrival? Did you even have your team recalibrate the collider?”

  “I saved your transmission for future entertainment value, if there is any. As expected, your presentation was simply a ruse to convince me that the project was no longer viable.”

  Elliott couldn’t believe the arrogance of Gustoff to dismiss the test results as a ruse. “You have gone mad. Obviously, we can no longer work together.”

  Gustoff smiled, “How timely you should say that now. I quit this morning.”

  *****

  After watching the exchange between Dr. Kyser and Dr. Nobel, Benson watched the replay of the observation room scientists and studied their body language. The scientist from the International Council asked, “What conclusions can you form from observing this exchange?”

  One team member from Elliott’s team said, “I believe Dr. Kyser is behaving from a paranoiac basis. He admits to ignoring the science based on his suspicions.”

  The other scientists nodded their heads in agreement.

  The International Council scientist asked, “Who in this room has studied the fatal flaw data?”

  No one raised their hand. Elliott’s team member said, “Dr. Nobel and Dr. Larson made the discovery, sir. Dr. Nobel simply announced that he had to disclose the results to the mirror team.”

  The number two person on the mirror team said, “Dr. Kyser didn’t say anything to us other than a meeting had been called to discuss some new findings. Dr. Kyser did not share any findings reports with us.”

  Benson had Darren connect him to Agent Patton, who was in charge of the interrogations of Dr. Kyser and Dr. Nobel.

  Benson said, “Interview Dr. Kyser first and have the feed sent to me. Find out what he knows about Dr. Angel Sanchez being kidnapped this morning. She is on the U.S. based DIANA team.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Benson’s gut told him that Dr. Elliott Nobel was innocent, but he had to be sure. He didn’t like that Elliott had not fully briefed his team before leaving for Malaysia.

  Benson looked at Darren, “Find me the number two guy on the U.S. DIANA team.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Benson watched the feed from the interrogation room. Dr. Elliott Nobel was escorted o
ut and Agent Patton entered and slammed a file on the table.

  Dr. Kyser remained calm and waited for his first question.

  Agent Patton twirled a pen in his hand and asked, “Who exactly have you been working with and to what extent have you violated your obligations to the United States and the DIANA project?”

  Dr. Kyser frowned. “My obligations are to science, not the United States. Any perceived loyalty I had to the DIANA project dissolved with Dr. Nobel’s lies. People of importance are aware that I no longer have an affiliation with the United States. There is no International Law that compels me to answer your questions.”

  Agent Patton frowned. “Dr. Kyser, surely you have considered the consequences of betraying the CIA. You were vetted for your security level. You signed a treason contract with the United States. You are fully aware we are not dependent on International Laws to protect our interests.”

  Dr. Kyser glanced at his watch, “In a few hours I will be a citizen of the Republic of Russia and listed as a national asset. My new investor is completing the arrangements as we speak. Perhaps you can direct your questions to President Putin? Your President will order my release immediately to avoid creating an international incident.”

  Benson stared at the monitor in disbelief. Not only had Kyser just confirmed he was a traitor, he had admitted to having an investor that was obtaining Russian protection for him. If Kyser’s investor was capable of providing Russian protection, it narrowed their identity down to a dangerous few. Benson had to act fast. His access to Dr. Kyser would expire with Russian citizenship.

  Benson signaled Patton.

  Agent Patton left the interrogation room and connected with Benson. “Yes, sir?”

  Benson answered, “Administer Serum 7 immediately.”

  Benson twisted in his chair and then walked over to his office window. The CIA had refined Serum 7 as the ultimate truth serum. It was only ordered as a last resort as the potential side effects were deadly for most individuals. If Kyser died, at least he would die before his Russian citizenship was announced.

  Benson’s instincts told him that Dr. Kyser’s secrets were worth the risks. What investor was funding Kyser and his new group? Why had Dr. Angel Sanchez been kidnapped? How involved was Dr. Elliott Nobel?

  Darren’s voice came over the intercom. “Agent Dalton Grant from our Lead, South Dakota, team is on the line for you, sir.”

  Benson listened as Agent Grant described the abduction scene with the two gunned down agents and the discovery of the body locators that had been removed from Dr. Angel Sanchez. Agent Grant told him that the number two astrophysicist on the U.S. DIANA team’s name was Dr. Chris Larson and that he had taken a jet from Rapid City to Chicago earlier in the day.

  Benson wondered why Dr. Larson chose this morning to fly to Chicago. “Locate and secure Dr. Larson immediately.” Benson drummed his pen on the edge of his desk. “Our DIANA team is under attack.”

  Agent Grant answered, “I’m nearly to Chicago now, sir.”

  Chapter Six

  Lenny and Travis were nearly to New Buffalo when Lenny pointed off to the right. “Take that exit to go to the Four Winds Casino. They’ve got everything! I’m goin’ there tonight.”

  Travis watched a steady parade of cars take the casino exit. He wondered how long it would be before he could go anywhere public and actually relax. The mob’s access to information technology was staggering. Travis knew from doing their books that their new internet businesses were the dominate sources of income. Agent Phillips was right; no airport was going to be safe. He needed the FBI to provide him with a new identity before he could leave the country.

  Travis glanced over at Lenny singing along to the country music channel and almost chuckled. Agent Phillips would appreciate the humor of this new twist. Travis certainly hadn’t made his situation any better by heading to Frankie Mullen’s house with Artie Corsone’s nephew, Lenny.

  There was a marked change in the scenery as the four lane highway condensed down to two. Well-kept farms and small houses dotted the countryside and large oak and willow trees beckoned drivers to explore the side roads. Hand painted signs with big red arrows boasted fruit stands and U-Pick fields. It was a different world.

  Lenny announced their arrival in New Buffalo by tossing his empty beer can out the window and into the bed of the truck yelling, “We’re here! Best fill up the truck while I’m sober. Last time I just drove off and forgot to pay. Michigan don’t take so kindly to that!”

  Once Lenny decided which gas pump he was going to use, Travis handed him a fifty-dollar bill. “Here, the least I can do is chip in for gas.”

  “That’s cool. Hey, not to get too personal, but your beard is flapping over where it’s peeling off your face.”

  Travis pulled the visor down, looked in the mirror, and ripped off the beard. “I can explain this.”

  Lenny chuckled, “Makes no difference to me. Half of the people I know drag a long past into a short future.” Lenny got out of the truck, filled it with gas, and went inside the station to pay. He came back carrying a case of beer and a sack that he put in the bed of the truck. Once seated behind the wheel he looked at Travis. “Seein’s I found you at the police station tells me you ain’t hiding from the cops. That leaves the bad guys.”

  Travis didn’t know what to say, so he just shrugged. Lenny already knew more than Travis wanted him to.

  Lenny headed the truck down the main street of town and pointed ahead. “Right up here’s the lake. See all them condos there? Pricey, pricey. All Chicago dudes. This is a ghost town from October to April.”

  Travis soon saw the drive to the public beach and the wide expanse of blue water and white sand. “This even smells like money.”

  “Mullen is nuts! Who would cover up that view?” They followed a narrow road another fifteen minutes that crawled past large mansions behind iron gates. Lenny turned the truck onto a small dirt drive next to one of the mansions.

  Travis looked at the mansion closely as they passed along its side. “Mullen lives here?”

  Lenny chuckled, “Not in the big house. He bought the little carriage house here on the left. The blue place, see it?”

  Travis guessed the entire house was the size of a four car garage. Faded blue siding met a gray roof and sat squarely in the middle of sand and dune grass, surrounded by large trees with low hanging branches. It was definitely secluded.

  Travis helped Lenny remove a large oil barrel that he said Mr. Mullen wanted for burning yard waste. While burn barrels were technically against local ordinances, every property owner along the lake had one for burning trash that washed up on the shore. They carried the small freezer to the front door and rested it on the porch. The house didn’t look any more appealing up close.

  Travis asked, “How much more work do you have to do here?”

  Lenny pushed open the squeaky front door and glanced around the yard. “He don’t want nothin’ done outside. Says the city will just raise his taxes.”

  The inside of the house was modest, but boasted new furniture still wrapped in factory plastic. A heavy plastic runner provided visitors a path to the kitchen without stepping on the hardwood floors.

  Lenny grunted, “Just lift this freezer up to the kitchen counter in the middle here. We gotta get the room ready before we can hook it up.” Lenny opened a door at the end of the kitchen and flicked on a light. He laughed out loud. “Well, looks like he started moving in; got us a can of peas in the pantry.”

  Travis was surprised at the size of the walk-in pantry. It was nearly as big as a small bedroom with shelves lining two walls and the back of a large exposed brick fireplace on another. In the middle of the room was a well-worn recliner flanked by a side table holding a lamp and a remote control. Travis turned to see a flat screen TV sitting on the floor and one can of peas on the far shelf.

  “He’s going to watch TV in the pantry?”

  Lenny grinned as he flipped another switch. “And smoke his cigars.” The
faint hum of a fan motor whirred and Lenny pointed up to the vent. “He wanted the best money could buy that was quiet.”

  Travis couldn’t figure out why Frankie wouldn’t just watch TV in his living room. “This is weird.”

  Lenny felt along the bricks of the fireplace wall and finally found the secret latch. A quiet pop sound released the spring hinge and a section of bricks opened to expose the lighted cavity within. “No man, this is weird. Dude wants that freezer put in here. Told me twice to make sure I turned it on before I left today. How much food you figure he could get in that freezer? Maybe two hams? I don’t get it.”

  Travis was hit with a bizarre thought that made his knees buckle as he fell into the recliner.

  Lenny’s eyes opened wide. “You okay, man? You don’t look so good.”

  Travis nodded and instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. That freezer was the perfect size to store a human head until the bounty was paid. Frankie was Dominick’s favorite hitman. Was he installing the freezer meant to house his own head?

  *****

  Frankie waited outside Bruno’s Bar for Dominick’s security man to let him in. He had requested a noon appointment and was wearing his best suit. His waistline no longer fit within the confines of the jacket’s buttons. Frankie noticed a small stain on his shirt where his belly bulge began. He cursed and pulled at his tie to conceal it. He blamed his old age for the new stomach bulge. He wasn’t growing old gracefully. Lately, he had to focus just to perform his ordinary daily tasks. He needed Dominick to let him finally retire.

  The bodyguard motioned Frankie to the door. “Mr. Guioni can see you now.”

  Frankie heard the back door of the bar slam. The last appointment had left by the alley. It took a moment for Frankie’s eyes to adjust to the dark room. He saw Dominick in a huddled conversation with a huge, muscular man. Frankie heard Dominick’s voice rise. “Do what you’re paid to do! Find out what happened! Finish the job!”

 

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