Shattered Legacy (10 page)

“I'm not an engineer, Dr. Gettleman. I only know what I’m told, and I was told that discoloration on the lateral nozzles is normal.” Then Kanavos fixed the flight director with a curious stare. “Are you sure I'm not in trouble?”

“From what I understand, Tony, you're in
big
trouble. Over the last few months, you’ve been written up for half a dozen violations. You have serious issues with your supervisors, and I won't even mention the little gambling ring you're running.” Then Gettleman glanced back over his shoulder and leaned close, his voice dropping low. “I can clear your personnel record and get you on another maintenance team, but I need something from you.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you to do a little investigating for me.”

Kanavos’ eyes narrowed. “Is this on the up-and-up?”

Gettleman raised his hands, palms out. “Hey, if you're not interested -”

Kanavos quickly straightened himself. “No, no,” he said quickly. “I’m listening. But, I mean, you're the Senior Flight Director. You can get your hands on any information you want. What do you need me for?”

“I need inside information, but I tend to attract too much attention when I’m out and about. I'd like to keep things low-key, if you know what I mean.”

Kanavos raised his eyebrows. “So if I act as your eyes and ears, you’ll take care of my disciplinary problems and get me on another team?”

“That’s the offer.”

“Is this risky?”

“No less risky than having me return you to the tender mercies of your crew foreman.”

“Well put, sir. I think we have a deal.”

“Good. You can start by looking into this.” He handed Kanavos a slip of paper.

Kanavos quickly read the note, folded the paper in two, and tucked it into his breast pocket. “No problem, Dr. Gettleman. But there's one more thing I'd like in exchange for this - besides getting management off my back.”

“Name it.”

“Do you think you could get me a good view of the
Naiad
landing? I’d really like to see it in person.”

Gettleman smiled and clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “You help me out with this, kid, and I'll get you a VIP seat in the grandstands.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Listen to me carefully,” said an unfamiliar female voice. “Your enemies will tear your company apart before they’re through. They will stop at nothing. Do I have your attention, Mr. Tyler?”

Samson Tyler’s mouth opened a fraction, and he frowned. Whoever this woman was had dialed him directly. Only a handful of people knew his private cell phone number.

 “You have my attention,” he replied evenly, standing up and stepping away from his desk.

“I have information that may interest you.”

“I’m listening.”

“You don’t think the FBI is going to just stop with your New York offices, do you?”

“What are you talking about? Who is this?”

“I’m a friend.”

“Friends usually know each other’s names.”

“Call me Merrick.”

“What information do you have for me, Merrick?”

“So, you’re interested?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch again soon.”

The line went dead.

Tyler checked the phone’s caller history, but the number was listed as “unavailable”. Until the woman called him back, he would have no way of contacting her.

He wondered if there a leak in the company, and whether this ‘Merrick’ was a possibly a whistleblower. It occurred to him that he might have to begin limiting information to others, even within his own department. Until he had a complete picture of what he was dealing with, he would have to remain cautious.

He walked to the conference room. Through the glass wall, he saw his legal team assembled around the table, going through stacks of files and accessing data through their laptops. It was almost seven-thirty. They would probably be there for another few hours. He opened the door and poked his head inside. “Can I see you for a moment, Dusty?”

The two walked back to Tyler’s office. “I need to know if we are violating any laws or regulations in our procurement.”

“I’ve gone through our government procurement procedures. Jacob says we’re clean, and I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“Double-check everything.”

There was a knock on the door. Both men turned to see Teresa Keller. She was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, holding a plastic bag in each hand.

“Teresa,” Tyler said, smiling. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured that if you couldn’t make our date, then I would bring our date to you.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” said Dusty, giving Tyler a jab on the arm. “Hell, I didn’t even know you had a social life.”

Teresa gave Tyler a curious look. He raised his hands. “I don’t share my personal life at work.”

“He doesn’t,” Dusty agreed, giving Teresa a smile. “Sadly enough, I’m probably the closest thing to a friend he has around here.”

Teresa held out her hand. “Then you must be Dustin O’Dell.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Tyler motioned to the bags. “What’s going on, Teresa?”

“You said you were going to be busy tonight, so I brought some food.”

“Lucky man,” Dusty said with a grin. “You’re definitely going to have to tell me more about this lady.”

“There should be enough for everyone,” Teresa said, handing one of the bags to Dusty.

“You just brought a bit of joy to four hungry attorneys. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help.”

As Dusty left, Teresa stepped up to Tyler and kissed him. “So, what’s so important that you needed to cancel our night out?”

“I can’t really tell you,” he said, his expression grim.

“Someone suing your company?”

“Worse, actually.”

She set the bag down on the corner of the desk and removed several containers. “Are you a mac-and-cheese kind of guy?”

“I could be. Is that what you brought?”

“Not even close.” She pulled out a bottle of wine and smiled. “I think you’ll be surprised.”

***

Tyler poked his Chicken Kiev with his fork before cutting off a piece and trying it.

“This is wonderful.”

“Thanks. You were out of a few things, so I improvised a bit. By the way, I love your convection oven.”

“You cooked this at my apartment?”

“I can’t cook in mine. The place is a mess.”

“And you raided my wine cabinet?”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind. I don’t know what this stuff is, though.” Frowning, she held up her glass and swirled the contents in the candlelight. The two were eating at Tyler’s desk, using plastic tableware and paper towels for napkins.

“It's Pinot Gris,” he explained. “It's a little dark. Rather like a Frascati. It’s actually a decent choice to go with the chicken.”

“I hope it's not too expensive.”

Tyler shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, a ten-dollar bottle is as good as a hundred-dollar bottle. It's all about what you like.”

“And you like this... Pinot?”

“I like hard liquor more.” He ate another bite and shook his head. “I had no idea you were such a good cook.” He reached for the bottle to re-fill their glasses.

“See what you learn when we spend time together?” she said, setting down her glass. “So, how did that date with your ‘colleague’ go?”

“If it was a date, I’d say that I didn’t even make it to first base. Sinclair Dorian wasn’t really up for a visit.”

“What’s he like?” Teresa pulled her chair closer to the desk. “Is he really as happy and carefree as he seems in the media?”

Tyler thought about that and shrugged. “Not really. He’s a complex man.”

“He seems honest.”

“I suppose.”

Teresa didn’t push the subject, and turned her attention back to her meal.

Tyler’s thoughts drifted back to his current problems. He had even more to worry about, now that he suspected a leak within the company. To ensure secrecy, he would need to personally handle as much of the company’s internal investigation as possible. That would be difficult.

He glanced up and realized that Teresa had asked him a question.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘do you want to go out later?’”

Tyler glanced at his desk clock. Times like these justified the pullout couch in the office.

Teresa asked, “Are you going to be here all night?”

He stood and stretched. “Probably.”

“Then I probably won’t see you for a few days.”

He grinned. “Not unless you move in with me.”

“Don’t start. I’m not living with you.”

“Come on, you’re not
that
traditional. You've slept over plenty of times. Besides, it'll get you out of that tiny apartment and into a -”

“We’re not
living
together, Samson. I don't know why you keep pushing it. It’s a bad idea. If you want to live together so much, why don't you move into my apartment?"

"Point taken." As he started packing the food containers back into the bag, his thoughts strayed again. He thought about this ‘Merrick’ woman who called and had hinted that the government investigation was bogus. How would she know that, unless she had inside information? If she was an informant, he would have to be careful in handling her, so she wouldn’t get scared away. There was also the issue of trust - on both sides.

“So, are you going to the landing?”

Tyler handed her the bag. “The what?”

“The landing in New Mexico.”

“What landing?”

“The
Naiad
landing. You know, that big spaceship your company built and launched into space? Are they sending you there to see it when it lands?”

“They asked me if I wanted to go, but I said no.”

“Are you crazy? You could have taken
me
!”

“You would have wanted to go?”

“Of course! It’s a historic event!”

“Oh,” he said, frowning. “I never really thought of it that way.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

While the new orbiter was undergoing extensive pre-launch inspections, there were a number of hold times in place for clearing up small technical glitches. With the rush to complete work, the overtime hours for technicians were adding up.

Besides the extra money, Tony Kanavos liked working the second and third shifts. The evening hours were more laid-back; there was the added bonus of premium pay, and best of all the big bosses were never around. Night managers like Cliff Newlon were hardly ambitious enough to be dangerous - not that Kanavos was worried about Newlon anymore. Kanavos knew that while he was doing the bidding of Noah Gettleman, he was safe.

At least, he hoped he was.

During his lunch break, he made his way down the long corridor of Building Seven's basement. He walked with heavy footsteps beneath the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights past dozens of closed, unmarked doors. No one was working here at this hour. At the end of the hall, he turned and pushed open the door to the Records Retention Room. The lighting inside was dim. A young woman sat in a booth behind a heavy mesh screen. Her chin rested in her hands as she stared down at a book illuminated by a metal desk lamp. She wore headphones. Her head was bobbing up and down as she flipped through the pages. Kanavos smoothed his overalls as he approached the cage.

He stood before the booth for a moment. When the woman did not acknowledge him, he rapped sharply on the screen. The woman’s head shot up in surprise. Then she slammed shut her book and yanked off the headphones. She was about Kanavos’ age, slightly overweight, with stringy straight brown hair and almond-shaped eyes. She stared at him and blinked.

“Hey,” Kanavos said with a broad smile. “They shouldn't do this to you.”

“Do what?” she asked, frowning.

“Lock you down here. You're far too pretty to be kept in a deep, dark basement.”

The woman half-smiled at the complement. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked him up and down.

“Name's Tony,” he told her.

“I can read the badge.”

“Wit
and
beauty.” His smile broadened. “I take it you're the gatekeeper around here.”

“Hmm, perceptive
and
charming,” she replied dryly. “May I help you?”

“I'd like to check some records.”

“This is a restricted area.”

“I was hoping someone would let me in.”

“You need authorization.”

“I thought I could get that from
you
.” With that, Kanavos beamed his most ingratiating smile.

The woman raised her eyebrows. “What do you want to see?”

“Just some hard copy maintenance logs on the
Naiad
.” He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “The boss wants to run some status comparisons, but a few of the old schedules aren’t coming up on the computers. We know we did the work. I have a bet with the guys as to whether someone forgot to input the logs properly.”

“A bet, huh?”

“Yeah. A bet.”

As the woman gazed at him, as if trying to read his true intentions, she slipped her hand under the desk to press the entry button. A buzzer sounded and the door beside her unlocked with a metallic crunch.

“You are most kind,” Kanavos said as he pushed open the door.

The woman slid off her stool. “I have to scan your badge in,” she said. “You also have to sign for any materials you want to copy. Nothing leaves here without authorization.” Before Kanavos could say another word, she added, “And I can't give you that authorization.”

Kanavos nodded graciously and handed her his badge, which she swiped through a reader and returned. Then the woman led him into the Records Retention Room. The place was as long as a football field and nearly as wide. Bars of fluorescent lights dangled from the low ceiling, casting harsh shadows between the long aisles of metal cabinets. Halfway down the center row, they turned and marched down another long aisle of file drawers. Then they turned again. By the time they had reached their destination, Kanavos was completely lost.

“Here we go.” The woman stopped before a computer terminal.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“You wanted maintenance work assignments on the
Naiad
. You can search through this.”