The Desperate Game: (InterMix) (16 page)

Zac was reaching inside the crate, on the verge of lifting out the unconscious man, when he heard the soft rustle of sound at the far end of the warehouse. Apologizing silently to the injured man, Zac let Hixon slide back down into the crate.

That soft noise was what Zac realized he had been waiting for. It meant that someone else had followed him to the warehouse. It could be only one person.

Chapter Nine

The warehouse door gave easily when Guinevere opened it. Inside, there was a dim glow from an overhead lamp. The weak illumination spread out for a few feet and then disappeared into the darkness between the aisles of crates. No alarms sounded; no guard challenged her entrance. But Guinevere had the feeling she was not alone in the building. At this point she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

She walked to the edge of the fluorescent lamp’s ineffectual attempt to stave off the darkness and stood staring blindly into the shadows. She should have thought to bring along a flashlight. She almost called out to Zac to see if he was out there in the darkness but changed her mind when she considered what might happen if it wasn’t Zac’s presence she sensed.

Uncertainly Guinevere hovered on the border of the light, wary of moving into the shadows but convinced that having come this far, she had to keep going. Zac had seemed sure that there were secrets to be uncovered here, and she, in turn, was more and more afraid that he might be walking into a trap. Hesitantly Guinevere stepped over the edge into the dark. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the point where she could make out the dim aisles lined with crates and cartons.

It was a little too much like playing Elf Hunt for real: the inability to see what lay around the next corner; the persistent shadows; the conviction that there was a secret to be discovered.
Too real
, Guinevere thought as she slipped quietly along the concrete floor.
Much too real
. At least in Elf Hunt you had some clear-cut options. What she needed was an option.

As if by magic or computer sorcery, an option presented itself when she rounded the corner of a long aisle. A few feet ahead she could just barely see the outline of what appeared to be a workbench. Workbenches had tools. Carefully she threaded her way toward the metal table and shelves. Halting in front of it, she peered around until she found a long strip of heavy metal. It was a crowbar. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the end of the object. It was heavier than she would have guessed.

Feeling at least minimally armed now, Guinevere turned to start back down another aisle. Her soft-soled shoes made little, if any, sound on the concrete, but she was certain anyone listening would be able to hear her breathing. That thought reminded her that she had to start listening for someone else’s breathing.

Again she wanted to call to Zac, but once more she talked herself out of it on the grounds that she didn’t know if there was a third party in the room. Her hunch was that there probably was. It seemed a good bet that said third party wouldn’t be expecting her. She would provide an element of surprise, Guinevere told herself bracingly. Visions of acting as Zac’s backup squad danced in her mind. Of course, he hadn’t requested any backup, but that was because he probably didn’t realize just how much danger he might be in tonight.

The illusion of being in the middle of Elf Hunt grew stronger as Guinevere traipsed slowly down one aisle. If the malevolent elf suddenly jumped out at her from behind a stack of crates, the fantasy would be perfect. The thought sent a shudder through Guinevere. Genuine fear began to replace the bravado that had been propelling her forward. She came to an uneasy halt at the end of one aisle.

This might not be the brightest way to approach things. Perhaps she should go back to the lighted area and think of a more brilliant strategy. Maybe she should do something simple and straightforward, like call the cops.

Guinevere didn’t get a chance to go through the full list of possibilities. The force that struck her from behind cut off her thoughts as well as her supply of air before she even realized what had happened. The next thing she knew she was lying on the cold concrete, the taste of dust and grit in her mouth. A terrible weight seemed to be pressing her down. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

There was a small snap, and then a glaring light burned on the other side of her closed eyes. The weight on her back shifted, and rough hands turned her onto her side. With an effort Guinevere opened one eye.

“Damn.”

Guinevere dimly recognized the voice of the Frog even though she couldn’t see Zac’s face beyond the bright ring of light.

“My sentiments exactly,” she mumbled.

“Christ, Gwen. It wasn’t supposed to be you. What the hell—”

Before she could respond, another voice sounded from across the aisle. “Well,” said Russ Elfstrom, “this is going to turn out very tidily after all. You always were very thorough, Zac. Slow, but thorough. I wasn’t expecting Miss Jones, but she can be accommodated, I think.”

Elfstrom stepped forward and switched on his own flashlight. It produced a powerful beam that cut a swath across the tableau of Guinevere lying on her side with Zac down on one knee beside her. There was enough glare to reflect back onto the Elf’s satisfied expression. The light also clearly revealed the small handgun he held. Guinevere decided that the harsh lighting effects made Elfstrom look very much like a character out of a very dangerous computer game.

Zac stayed where he was, studying the gun for a moment and then Elfstrom’s face. “I was wondering when you were going to show up, Russ. When I heard Gwen, I thought it must be you.”

Elfstrom nodded almost sadly. “I was afraid you’d figured it all out. For a while I had hopes of convincing you that Bender and Hixon and Miss Jones constituted the ring of thieves. I went to a lot of trouble to make it look that way. It would have made things easier, but it wouldn’t really have altered the plan.”

“Why did you get me involved in the first place?” Zac was calm, his voice even and controlled. He asked the question as if it had been generated by sheer curiosity.

Elfstrom shrugged. “Didn’t have much choice. When that guy in accounting discovered the inventory discrepancies, he came to me first to check out the possibility of the problem’s being caused by a computer error. He also talked to Bender, who swore the program was accurate. There was no way I could pretend it was a computer error, and I was sure the accountant was smart enough to know that. So I told him and Bender I’d take charge of the matter and go straight to Hampton Starr. I assured them management would handle it. That satisfied the eager beaver in accounting. And it kept him from going to Starr on his own.”

“But it didn’t satisfy Cal, did it?” Guinevere could barely get the words out. There was a fine trembling throughout her whole body.

“That bastard just kept digging away.” Elfstrom gave an exclamation of utter disgust. “I told him to forget it, that everything was under control, but he just wouldn’t let go. It was his program that had turned up the errors and you know how goddamned possessive programmers are about the stuff they’ve written. I was afraid he was getting too close to the truth. Then one night, after he’d gone home, I found the Calliope address. He’d written it down on a pad near his computer and torn off the page, but I could see the imprint on the next piece of paper. I left that address in the computer for only a period of twenty-four hours at a time. After a shipment left the warehouse, I always removed the address and any related records. But Bender must have been monitoring things, watching for any little hint. He must have rigged the computer to report back to him if there were any odd movements of information.”

“Such as address information being inserted and then removed?” Zac asked.

Elfstrom nodded, his head moving in a short, jerky manner that registered his inner tension. “I knew I had to get rid of him. I followed him home, knocked him out, and used his car to drive into the mountains. I thought he’d stay in that ravine at least until next spring. By now he should have been under a couple of feet of snow.”

“But the snow is late this year.” Bleakly Guinevere recalled Jackson’s complaints about the slow start of the ski season.

Zac eyed Elfstrom thoughtfully. “In the meantime, you were explaining things to Starr in your own way.”

“I couldn’t hide the situation, so I decided to camouflage it. You know the routine, Zac. A little misdirection and distraction can go a long way.”

Zac paused before saying softly, “I know the routine.”

“You should. I’ve seen you follow some incredibly mixed-up trails before.”

“You thought you could keep me focused on the wrong trails this time, though, didn’t you?”

The Elf smiled with a touch of resignation. “What can I say? We were friends. We went back a long way together. You owed me. You trusted me. And I’d done you still another favor by recommending that StarrTech hire you. Given all that, sure, I thought I could handle you. You should have heard the sales pitch I gave Hampton Starr, Zac. Described you in glowing terms. I didn’t tell him that they used to call you Glacier, though. It wouldn’t have gone with the image Starr wanted to hire. He had the impression he was getting an ex-James Bond. And he got to be the secret agent’s boss. It was the ultimate intrigue for him.”

“So everyone was happy. Hampton Starr was having fun, I got my first big client, and you got to keep pulling the strings behind the scenes.”

Guinevere sucked in her breath as she struggled up on one elbow. Her side ached a little from the impact with the concrete. “Nobody seems to have considered my happiness in all this.”

Elfstrom didn’t bother looking at her as he answered. He kept his eyes on Zac. “You were just a means of focusing Zac’s attention on certain areas. You’d already fooled around once with StarrTech’s computers. I discovered that when I went through the system looking for red herrings I might be able to use. In a company the size of StarrTech there’s always the possibility of a little computer fraud going on. Even a few simple errors could have been made to look like fraud. Then, if necessary, I’d have my scapegoat ready to throw to the wolves. Sure enough, there you were. I thought that sooner or later, with a few subtle suggestions from me, it would eventually occur to Zac that you might have been involved in the thefts. When everyone finally realized that Cal Bender’s absence was definitely suspicious, I figured even Zac here would begin to put two and two together.”

“The final player was Larry Hixon, right?” Guinevere winced as she sat up completely.

“I wanted the three of you, Bender, Hixon, and Jones, to stage a nice little drama for Hampton Starr’s pleasure.”

“And my role in the theatrics was to expose the scheme in the final act.” Zac slanted a quick sideways glance at Guinevere before returning his attention to Elfstrom.

“Just before the final curtain,” the Elf said, nodding. “Don’t worry. Even though you didn’t come to all the right conclusions, you’re still going to go out a hero. Want to hear the complete scenario as Hampton Starr will hear it when he returns on Monday?”

“I can’t wait.”

“Bender is the victim of a falling-out among thieves. He was killed by his partner, Larry Hixon, when Hixon decided that a two-way split is better than a three-way split. Hixon and Guinevere, who have already pulled off a few side stunts on their own, such as draining ten thousand from the benefits program, proceed merrily on their way.”

“Until I catch them one night in the StarrTech warehouse busily addressing a crate to Calliope, Alaska,” Zac added.

Guinevere swallowed, aware of an unpleasant tightness in her throat. There was no rush of heady excitement circulating through her veins tonight. Where was the old adrenaline charge? She felt light-headed and frightened.

The Elf shook his head at Zac’s ending to the story. “Not quite. You catch them in the warehouse, all right, but you find them quarreling. Hixon has just shot Miss Jones when you come upon the scene. He turns the gun on you. You get off one shot in true, heroic fashion, but Hixon also fires. Presto. All three of you are quite dead.”

Guinevere’s stomach threatened to rebel. Her shirt felt damp under the arms. Zac was nodding politely, as if appreciating the symmetry of the tale.

“And the security guard?”

“Received instructions not to report for duty this evening. Instructions that were generated by a computer and look quite official.”

“It might work,” Zac said.

“Oh, it will work. Misdirection and distraction. Very effective.” Elfstrom looked pleased with himself but not particularly relaxed. His inner agitation simmered just beneath the surface.

“How long have you been rerouting equipment shipments, Russ?” Zac moved his hand along his thigh, as if his leg were getting cramped from the crouched position.

“Two or three years. It could have gone on forever if Bender hadn’t decided to get fancy with the inventory program. It was a nice little scam, Zac. I simply rerouted some reasonably valuable equipment to folks who regularly prefer to buy from
discount
suppliers.”

“None of the stuff StarrTech makes is high-tech enough to have an iron curtain market,” Guinevere said, thinking of all the stories she had read of people selling technological secrets to foreign nations. “You don’t even have to have a security clearance to work there.”

“I’m not nearly that ambitious or that stupid, Miss Jones.” The Elf looked at her briefly, as if she weren’t too bright. “Sooner or later the government always seems to move in on that sort of activity. Much too risky. No, I preferred the safer, more sedate approach of dealing with the home market and the legitimate overseas market. There are plenty of small firms in the States and in friendly countries just getting started that are happy to purchase good-quality equipment at bargain prices. They’re smart enough not to ask too many questions, and there is no paper trail to follow once the equipment leaves StarrTech. It simply arrives in Calliope, Alaska, where a certain party dispatches it on to the real destination, wherever that happens to be. StarrTech even winds up paying the freight bill to Alaska. The only expense I incur is the cost of forwarding the shipment on to the purchasers.”

“Very neat.” Zac ran his palm down his thigh again. “Until the computer system you were using caught up with you. I think there’s a kind of justice in that somewhere, Russ.”

“If one thinks ahead, one can misdirect justice along with everything and everyone else.” The Elf smiled wryly. “You probably won’t believe this, Zac, but I’m going to regret killing you.”