Authors: Stephen Renneberg
Knightly hesitated, uncomfortably. “For
this to work, I have to go outside my own organization, outside of the
government.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know who I can trust. You
may be insubordinate, and reckless, but I believe I can trust you. Right now,
that is the most essential criteria. You and your two companions provide me
with a viable option. And quite simply, there's no one else.”
“So Mouse and Gunter are part of this deal?”
“You are our prime candidate, but I know
enough about Szilinsky, excuse me, ‘Mouse’, to appreciate his usefulness. While
he lacks the formal training of our computer experts, he does seem to have a
certain innate aptitude for his work. Wartenburg on the other hand is something
of a mystery. We know he was BND, up until a few years ago.”
“Never heard of it,” Mitch lied.
“Come now. The Bundesnachrichtendiendst.”
“Gesundheit.”
“Germany's federal intelligence service,
experts in electronic surveillance.”
“He is good at listening in on other
people's conversations.”
“And he dabbles in the share market, with
inside information judging by his results. Proof that his surveillance skills have
been put to no good. But that’s not what concerns me, it’s the other aspect to
him that concerns me.”
Mitch looked confused. “What other aspect?”
“He's easily swayed by money, bought by the
highest bidder, without regard for right or wrong. He's a mercenary. That makes
him vulnerable. You have a sense of duty, he doesn't. He could be turned
against us.”
“You’re wrong. Money is a just a hobby for
him, a way of keeping score. He's totally reliable, and I'd trust him with my
life.”
“Hmm. Perhaps he is loyal to you, Mitchell,”
Knightly said thoughtfully. “In any event, if we eliminated him, you wouldn't
accept the mission. Therefore, Wartenburg is included.”
Mitch relaxed. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s
the job?”
“I’ll explain more in due course, but it’s
something you’re qualified for. If you succeed, you walk away clean.”
“And if I fail?”
“Failure will render you useless to us.”
“I’ll be dead?”
Knightly hesitated. “There are some things
worse than death, Mitchell.”
“You mean I’ll turn into an asshole?”
“Only if you’re lucky.”
“And if I refuse, what happens?”
“The guards will catch you trying to escape
from the microprocessor lab with classified US military secrets. There'll be a
shoot out.” Knightly shook his head sadly. “All you had to do was throw down your
gun, but you refused. They had no choice, I’m sorry. You’ll be sorely missed.”
“I assume I can forget about a phone call
to my lawyer?”
“You are beyond the law here.”
Mitch nodded understandingly. “So we do
your spook shit, whatever it is, then we walk? No charges, no prisons, no
bullets in the back of the head?”
“That’s the offer.”
Mitch studied Knightly for a moment
thoughtfully. “Professor, my price is two million dollars, half in my account
now, half on completion. That will cover the three of us.”
Knightly hid his surprise. “You’re hardly
in a position to negotiate.”
“Seller’s market, Gus. You have no one
else. You need me, you said so yourself. By your standards I may be dumb, but I
ain’t stupid. You’re not entrapping me, you’re hiring me. Considering you
tricked me into putting my fingers in the cookie jar, so you could try this
lame entrapment crap on me, I’m doubling my usual fee, just so next time, you
learn to ask nicely.”
Knightly barely hesitated. “Done. Two
million dollars, half in advance.”
Mitch leaned forward and stuck out his hand
to shake. “In that case, you’ve got a deal, Boss.”
* * * *
A picture of a man’s face, slender, gray
hair and beard, flashed onto the projection screen.
“His name is Dr Erich Steinus,” Knightly
explained from the darkness beside the slide projector.
Mitch, Gunter and Mouse sat in a darkened
conference room watching the slideshow, while Knightly narrated each image. While
Mitch and Gunter showed no ill effects of their abduction, Mouse pressed an ice
pack to his temple and periodically swallowed pain killers for the pounding in
his head.
“He’s a scientist, the world leader in his
field.”
“Which is . . . ?” Mitch asked.
“That’s not something you need to know.” Knightly
said. “Dr Steinus was born in Vienna, migrated to the US when he was a
teenager, has an IQ over a hundred and eighty, more than twenty points higher
than Einstein, and he suffers from Asperger's syndrome, a high functioning form
of autism. He was involved for more than a decade in a secret US government
research program. We’d thought the program was cancelled due to failure, but we
were wrong.”
“What sort of research? Weapons?”
“It’s technology of a revolutionary nature,”
Knightly replied with carefully measured words. “Something you wouldn’t have
heard of, so don’t waste time drawing irrelevant conclusions.”
“It’s alien technology, right?” Mouse
jumped in excitedly. “From area 51? This guy is a UFO technology freak, isn’t
he?”
“No, Mr Szilinsky, this has nothing to do
with aliens.”
“Mouse. People call me Mouse.” He made a
sweeping motion across the table, miming using a computer mouse, as his eyes
fixed on the last remaining doughnut on the plate in the center of the table. He
glanced around, making sure no one objected, then grabbed it and took a bite. He
chewed delightedly and spoke with his mouth full. “Can we have more of these? Especially
the chocolate ones.”
“You mean the four you’ve already eaten
aren’t enough?” Knightly said with a hint of irritation, then returned his
attention to the screen. “If we’re correct, our present problem is related to
some very advanced theoretical ideas Dr Steinus had developed, ideas which now
appear to be practicable. The problem is the good doctor hasn’t been heard of
for several years.”
“We’re not detectives,” Mitch said. “If you
can’t find him, how are we supposed to?”
“We know he worked for the Defense
Department until approximately two years ago. It's possible he still does,
although now the project, if it still exists, is hidden so deep, even we can’t
find it.”
“And you won’t tell us what the project is?”
Mitch asked.
“No.”
Mitch looked irritated. “So how the hell
can we help you, if you spoon feed us crap through a key hole?”
“All information is compartmentalized for
reasons of national security. All I can do is provide you with sufficient
information to complete your tasks, as they are assigned to you.” Knightly’s
look told them it was not negotiable.
“Where should we start looking?” Gunter
asked. It was the first time the square jawed German had spoken during the
meeting. Mitch knew Gunter’s silence indicated he was weighing up the options,
deciding whether to commit or fight his way out when the time was right. Asking
a question meant he was coming onboard.
“The Defense Department. If you can get
access to their central computer, you might be able to find where he is and
what he’s doing.”
“You want us to crack the Pentagon’s
security?” Mouse asked incredulously as he licked icing from his fingers. “You’re
nuts!”
“Whether or not you choose the Pentagon is
up to you. There may be other avenues you could investigate before attempting
to bypass US military security.”
Knightly brought a new image up on the screen.
It contained several lines of text, a small photo of Dr Steinus in the upper
right corner and several strings of numbers. Before he began his explanation, a
slender young woman entered without knocking. Mitch glanced at her, catching a
hint of golden hair and inviting curves silhouetted by the hall light, then the
door closed and she was lost in the darkness.
Knightly continued as if no one had entered
the room. “The information here can take you to his personnel file, at least
the last one we had for him. It’s a black research project, so all information
relating to him is classified. While that normally wouldn’t exclude us, in this
instance, we’re completely out of the loop.” Knightly looked concerned. “That
can only mean someone has encapsulated this information in an illegal manner.”
“Let’s assume we locate Steinus,” Mitch
said. “Then what?”
“You report back to me. We’ll analyze the
information and plan the next stage of the operation. During the analysis and
planning phase, your team will be temporarily deactivated. That means no
contact with anyone.”
“With anyone?” Mitch repeated uncertainly. “You
mean anyone we know.”
“I mean we will find you an isolated
location where you will have no human contact at all. You will assume contact
with anyone is potentially a security breach. The isolation period will last
until we reassign you.”
“Just so long as we got cable TV, an
internet connection and pizza, you can put me where you want,” Mouse said
glibly, then drained the last of the coffee from the urn.
Gunter looked at Mitch, a slight movement
of his head indicating his deep suspicion of what they were getting into.
Mitch turned back to Knightly. “Is that it?”
“No, there’s one more thing.” Knightly
turned up the lights and indicated the young woman seated at the end of the
table. “This is Christa Malleson. I’m assigning her to your team.”
“Good morning,” she said with a slight nod.
Mitch looked from her back to Knightly. “We
don’t need her.”
“Yes, you do,” Knightly said firmly. “If
everything goes according to plan, she will function merely as an observer. If
on the other hand, you are faced with extraordinary circumstances, then her
special talents will most definitely be required.”
“I never agreed to any girl tagging along,”
Mitch said. “The deal was the three of us, no tourists, passengers, observers
or flunkies.”
“I’m no one’s flunky,” Christa declared,
then turned to Knightly with a bored look on her face. “I told you this
Neanderthal wouldn’t agree.”
Mitch feigning confusion, leaned to Mouse
and whispered loud enough for Christa to hear. “Pssst, what’s a Neanderthal?”
“Ape man,” Mouse leaned toward him, playing
along. “Hairy, smelly, stupid.”
Mitch nodded with mock understanding. “Thanks.”
Mitch turned back to Knightly. “I just can’t work with someone who disrespects
me. Even a hairy, smelly, stupid ape man like me has feelings.”
“Mitchell, you are nominally in command of
the mission,” Knightly explained. “But, if Christa gives you a direct order,
then you follow it.”
“Now wait a minute. What’s this nominally
in command bullshit? I’m not following her orders.”
“Yes, you will, because they’ll save your
life.”
“And how exactly is this fairy princess
going to save my life? Bake cookies so I don’t starve to death?”
“Christa brings skills to this team that
none of you possess. I hope for your sake you will not have to call upon them.”
“What skills?” Gunter asked, sizing Christa
up with a look.
“That’s classified.”
“Can she shoot?” Gunter persisted,
unconvinced.
“I can handle myself,” Christa cut in. “And
if you have any more questions, you can address them to me, not Gus.”
“We don’t know her,” Mitch said. “If this
mission is as dangerous as you seem to think, the last thing we need is an
unknown quantity that could put our lives at risk.”
“She’s going, and that’s it,” Knightly said
with finality. “I’m not prepared to explain why she needs to be along, because
those reasons involve classified information which you will not have access to
unless absolutely necessary. Consider it a requirement of the two million dollars
I’m paying you.”
“You’re paying them?” Christa exploded.
Knightly looked impassive. “Whatever it
takes to complete this mission.”
Christa fell silent, then nodded.
“I don’t like having to assign Christa to
your team, Mitchell,” Knightly added. “She’s extremely valuable to me here, but
I have no choice. Your success is my top priority, and your chances are much
greater with her by your side. End of discussion.”
* * * *
In the small cafeteria one floor below
the conference room, they were served sandwiches and coffee. Knightly excused
himself while the others sat at a table near a window with a view of scattered
trees and distant hills. Mitch detected movement in the distance, an armed
guard on foot patrol with an assault rifle slung from his shoulder and an
Alsatian sniffing the ground. He guessed the facility was well outside Los
Angeles, carefully hidden from prying eyes and closely guarded.