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Authors: Chris Kuzneski

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BOOK: The Einstein Pursuit
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‘Sounds like a name we should know.’

‘Holcher isn’t the villain in all of this. He’s an asset,’ Payne said from somewhere off camera. ‘He could give us the name of whoever ordered this custom piece. Whoever he is, he didn’t order just the one. Seems he was hoping for a bulk discount.’

‘You think Holcher will hand over the information, just like that?’

‘No,’ Payne admitted. ‘I said he
could
give us the name. I didn’t say he would. At least not until you convince him that it’s the right thing to do.’

‘What exactly did you have in mind?’ Dial asked.

‘Tell him you’ll put agents on him around the clock, just waiting for the next lowlife to come to him. Threaten to use him as bait until you’ve arrested everyone he’s ever sold to. He can either help you this one time, or you’ll run off his buyers until there’s no one left.’

‘That’s actually pretty good,’ Toulon stated.

‘Let’s back up a second,’ Dial said. ‘How can you be certain that Holcher is involved? This doesn’t sound like the kind of the weapon he’d engrave his initials into.’

‘It’s definitely not,’ Jones agreed. ‘Holcher likes to fly under the radar as much as possible. In fact, that’s why the gun is known as a Wiltz, not a Holcher.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Dial asked.

‘We’ve got it on good authority,’ Jones explained.

‘Good authority? Whose?’

Suddenly Payne’s face filled the screen as he stepped into view from the side. His stare was equal parts admonishment and surprise. ‘Nick, you know we can’t answer that.’

‘Can’t? Or won’t?’ Dial teased.

‘Take your pick. The end result is the same.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Dial said, smiling. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. Your black-ops connection gives you the name of the guy who made the gun that was used by the guy who tried to kill you, and you want me to track him down to get the name of the guy behind everything?’

‘Exactly!’ Payne said. ‘Did we hook you up or what?’

Dial couldn’t help but laugh. ‘And, if I may be so bold, what exactly will you two be doing while I’m doing all of this?’

‘We’re going to Disneyland!’ Jones joked.

Although Toulon had heard stories about Payne and Jones, he had never experienced their antics first hand. He had no idea if Jones was speaking in military code or if he had flat out lost his mind. ‘You’re going where?’

‘Just ignore him,’ Payne said as he put his hand on Jones’s shoulder and pushed him out of view of the camera. ‘We aren’t going to Disneyland. We’re going to California.’

‘Why?’ Dial asked, suddenly serious.

‘Sahlberg, Berglund and several of the victims at the lab are interconnected. Before coming together in Stockholm, most of the scientists worked here in Pittsburgh. After that, they all followed the money out to California.’

‘What money?’ Dial asked.

‘Jonas Salk’s,’ Jones said from off the screen.

Payne nodded. ‘After the polio vaccine was released, Salk had investors lining up at his door. He took their money and founded the Salk Institute in La Jolla, California. Over the next several years, most of your victims headed west to work and/or study out there.’

‘Including Berglund?’ Dial asked.

‘Berglund led the charge.’

Dial rubbed his neck. ‘And you think there’s a connection between Berglund’s lab in Stockholm, your scientist in Pittsburgh, and the Salk Institute in La Jolla?’

‘Yep,’ Payne said confidently.

‘I agree,’ Toulon said as he opened a folder and stared at its contents. ‘I had a chance to review Berglund’s travel records, and I noticed he took several trips to California. I’ve got him traveling to San Diego at least a dozen times in the last two years.’

Jones appeared again on camera. ‘San Diego is the nearest airport handling international flights. Unless Berglund has an unnatural addiction to the donkey shows in Tijuana – and let’s be honest, who could blame him? – my guess is we’ll find plenty of people in La Jolla who can give us some dirt on him.’

Dial nodded in agreement. ‘Fine. I’ll see if the gun lead takes us anywhere. You guys check out southern California. If you find anything, I can have someone from the FBI office in San Diego back you up. So no hero stuff.’

‘Who, us?’ Jones said sarcastically.

Payne pushed him aside even harder. ‘Hey, Nick, before you hang up on DJ for being an idiot, can I ask you a question?’

‘Of course,’ Dial said.

‘What’s the reason you called?’

Dial shook his head, embarrassed. ‘See how it is with you guys? I get so caught up with your shit that I tend to forget about my own.’

Jones popped up on camera again. ‘That’s because you love us.’

Dial ignored the comment and focused on the task at hand. ‘I wanted to let you know we have the name of a possible suspect: a fugitive named Hendrik Cole. We have video of him in the harbor at the time of the explosion. We’re pretty sure he arranged the blast.’

‘Why do I know that name?’ Payne asked.

‘Probably from his work in Africa. He’s often called the Butcher of Benin.’

Payne nodded. He was familiar with the incident. ‘What’s his motivation?’

Toulon answered. ‘We think it has something to do with an Algerian capitalist named Harrison Zidane. He has funded several similar labs in the past, and we have Cole on record mentioning both Stockholm and Zidane.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Ask your doctor if he’s ever heard of synthetic cells,’ Dial said.

‘I can answer that right now. He has.’

‘You’re sure?’

Payne nodded. ‘I’m positive. Berglund used to ask him if it was possible to create a perpetual cell line. Synthetic cells that would propagate on their own.’

‘Is it?’

‘Not according to Sahlberg. He said synthetic cells can’t divide, so they can’t replicate. And if they can’t replicate, there’s no cell line. Why?’

‘The coroner found synthetic cells in five of the victims.’

Payne considered the information. ‘That’s interesting. Sahlberg told us that Berglund had a different view on the matter. He said he never accepted the limitations of synthetic cells. It looks like he was trying to prove his point.’

46

Traveling in the Payne Industries corporate jet had become routine for Payne and Jones. To them, it was just another mode of aerial transportation to be added to a long list that included bombers, cargo planes, fighter jets, helicopters and parachutes. Though they preferred the plush amenities and quiet ride of the Gulfstream G550 over the cramped quarters and roaring rotors of a Black Hawk helicopter, the trip would have been pretty much the same: Jones would fall asleep the moment the aircraft started to move, while Payne read a book or watched a movie.

It was what they referred to as SOP.

Standard Operating Procedure.

The same routine, regardless of the situation.

Sahlberg, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. To him, the spacious private jet was the height of luxury. He had always envied the extra legroom in first-class cabins, but even the roomiest commercial airliner couldn’t compete with the Gulfstream. The reclining chairs and bench seating could accommodate up to seven travelers, even on overnight trips. There was a stocked refrigerator and an array of snacks to choose from. The co-pilot was even able to adjust the satellite signal so Sahlberg could watch the Swedish news during their flight.

From Pittsburgh, they had flown west, across millions of acres of farmland, vast plains, and the staggering peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Sahlberg ignored the television screen, opting to stare out of the window at the sights below. Every so often he would mutter ‘beautiful’ or ‘breathtaking’ or something similar. It happened so frequently toward the end of the trip that Payne had to intervene, if for no other reason than his sanity.

‘When was the last time you visited La Jolla?’ he asked.

‘It’s been a few years,’ Sahlberg admitted with his nose still pressed against the glass. ‘I was always too busy with my own work in Pittsburgh to travel very often. And on the few occasions I found the time, I preferred heading back to Sweden.’

‘So much for you being our tour guide,’ Payne said.

Sahlberg laughed. ‘I can barely find my toilet in the middle of the night. I highly doubt I’ll be much use to you in California.’

‘Speaking of,’ Payne said as he pointed out the window.

As the plane descended through the cloud cover, the late afternoon sun lit up the California coastline. It truly was a sight to behold.

‘Beautiful,’ Sahlberg said, as he stared at the beaches below. Surprisingly, the plane went past the coast and out over the Pacific before it turned and headed south. ‘Not to alarm you, Jonathon, but it seems we may have overshot our mark.’

‘No,’ Jones remarked without so much as opening his eyes, ‘we’re supposed to come in over the ocean. It keeps us out of the commercial flight paths.’

‘I thought he was asleep,’ Sahlberg said.

‘He was. He is,’ Payne replied. ‘At least, most of him. He always keeps a small part of his brain awake and alert, just in case.’

‘Really? How peculiar.’

It was an ability that made Jones well suited for military life, not to mention the perfect watchdog. Payne glanced out the window to check their bearings. They were already south of Los Angeles, and he watched as the industrialized port of Long Beach gave way to the sandy beaches and opulent homes of Orange County. He sat back in his chair, knowing they would touch down shortly.

Sahlberg continued to watch as a steady stream of mansions passed underneath. The last thing he expected to see was a fleet of military helicopters headed their way.

‘Jonathon,’ he gasped, ‘you might want to see this.’

Payne stared out the window. ‘No worries, they’re just on maneuvers.’

‘Maneuvers?’

Payne nodded. ‘There’s a military base not far from here. Actually, there are a couple nearby. These guys are most likely from Camp Pendleton. Farther south is Miramar. That’s where Tom Cruise – I mean, Maverick – did his training for
Top Gun
.’

‘Tom who?’ Sahlberg asked.

‘Short guy, great teeth.’

Sahlberg shrugged. ‘A friend of yours?’

Payne laughed; obviously Sahlberg wasn’t familiar with the actor or the film. ‘Not really. DJ and I played him and Goose in a sweaty game of beach volleyball once. We kicked their butts, and they stopped taking our calls.’

‘That’s because Goose died,’ Jones added.

Payne nodded solemnly. ‘That’s right. He did.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Sahlberg said, missing the joke.

‘Not to worry,’ Payne assured him with a laugh. ‘We still have some close friends at both bases. In fact, we know the commanding officer at Pendleton. DJ and I fought with his son in Afghanistan. We saved his life on more than one occasion.’

‘But not Goose. No one could save Goose,’ Jones said with his eyes still closed. ‘The poor bastard. He didn’t stand a chance.’

Worried they had taken the joke too far, Payne directed Sahlberg’s attention out the window, pointing at the twin-rotor helicopters that were flying in formation below them. ‘Those are Boeing Vertol Sea Knights. They’re used to transport heavy machinery. They’re not carrying anything now, so they’ll probably redirect toward land at some point soon.’

As if on cue, the three massive helicopters broke toward the shoreline, dipping low and skimming across the water as they headed in the direction of the beach. Sahlberg watched in utter fascination as three tank-like vehicles emerged from the surf to meet them.

‘Those are 7As – amphibious assault vehicles,’ Payne said.

They watched as the Sea Knights deployed towlines and hovered just long enough for the soldiers on the ground to attach the lines to the 7As. In less than a minute, the three Sea Knights pulled back in unison, their cargo now swinging safely below. ‘They’ll head inland, drop the 7As, and swing back out here to repeat the drill.’

‘Amazing,’ Sahlberg muttered.

Payne smiled. He knew the drills were amazing to most people in the world. But to the men and women of the armed forces, they were simply doing their job.

‘We’re about to make our final approach,’ the captain informed them over the loudspeaker. ‘We’ll be on the ground in less than five.’

‘DJ, we’re here. Time to get up,’ Payne said.

‘I heard the man. There’s no need to shout,’ Jones said as he tilted his chair to an upright position. ‘By the way, those assault vehicles were 7A1s
,
not 7As. If you’re going to entertain our guest, at least give him the correct information.’

‘Says the guy who slept through the whole flight.’

‘You said it yourself, I never sleep.’

‘Good point.’

Due to the small size of their aircraft, they were able to bypass the heavy air traffic of San Diego International Airport, landing instead at the smaller and less congested Montgomery Field. It was a few miles north of the city center, and La Jolla was only a short cab ride to the west. As they taxied to the hangar, the captain came on the loudspeaker again.

‘The control tower has informed me that your transportation has already arrived. It is waiting for us on the tarmac.’

Payne frowned. ‘Transportation? What transportation?’

‘Did you call ahead?’ Jones asked.

‘No,’ Payne said as he glanced out the window and spotted a black town car. A burly chauffeur stood at its side. ‘The driver looks like a bear.’

Jones cursed as he unbuckled his seat belt. After a long nap, it wasn’t the response he had hoped to hear. In a flash, he lifted the cushion off the bench seat. Hidden underneath was a private arsenal. He selected a pistol and handed it to Payne. Then he chose one for himself.

‘Wait!’ Sahlberg said. ‘Don’t do anything rash! I think they’re here because of me.’

Jones nodded. ‘That’s why we’re going to shoot the bastards.’

‘No,’ he pleaded as he stepped in front of the duo. ‘You don’t understand. I let them know we were coming. They’re here to help. They’re not a threat.’

‘What do you mean?’ Payne demanded.

Sahlberg tried to explain. ‘Just because I’ve never been here doesn’t mean I don’t know people who live in the area. You have friends at Pendleton. I have friends in La Jolla. People who can help our cause.’

BOOK: The Einstein Pursuit
2.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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