Plot counterplot, p.29
Plot/Counterplot, page 29
“Which is exactly why Scheimer will be more comfortable around you. You’ll have an easier time getting past the guards, too.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re cute. And you blush readily. And you weigh—what? Ninety pounds, give or take an ounce?”
“Hardly.”
“The point is, you look harmless.” He winked. “But you’re not.”
“I still think—”
“He’s far more likely to talk to you. Remember—the post-hypnotic suggestion prevents us from using force. He has to want to talk to you.”
“Why would he?”
“Leilani, this is the oldest story in the history of mankind. What’s the one thing that can make a smart man stupid?” He grinned. “A beautiful woman.”
“I thought you were going to say vanilla ice cream.”
“No, but that’s not a bad idea. In addition to the pretty face.”
“Fine. I’ll do it. I guess.” She frowned. “I like you, Seamus, but you can be totally manipulative, you know it?”
Yes, that had been pointed out to him before.
* * *
Walk with authority, Seamus told her. And then he made her practice it for half an hour.
If you look the part, he said, if you appear to know what you’re doing, there’s a good chance someone will let you do it. So she dressed in a two-piece dress suit of the sort that seemed practically a uniform in the halls of the NCTC. She put a stern, no-nonsense expression on her face. And she walked with authority. Even though she was pushing a hotel dining cart.
She approached the two plainclothes guards standing at the hotel room door and flashed the fake badge Seamus gave her. “Leilani McKay. NCTC.”
The guard on the left scrutinized the badge. “Okay. So?”
“I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Scheimer.” She glanced down at the cart. “I’m bringing him a midnight snack.”
The guard arched an eyebrow. “I thought he always drank his midnight snack.”
“Apparently tonight’s fare will be different.”
The guard glanced at his clipboard. “We did receive notice that Scheimer would be having a visitor tonight.”
“I can assure you I have clearance. Here’s my authorization.” Leilani passed him a packet of paperwork. Apparently, if you want authentic forged government documents, the best place to go is another government agenCy.
“This appears to be in order. I still need verbal confirmation from the admiral, though. Please step away from the door.”
“Why?” She grinned. “Are you afraid I’ll overpower you and make a run for it?” Seamus had told her that looking helpless was an asset. She decided to combine that with needling the male ego.
“Just need to make a phone call. Might take a while to get through this late at night.” He withdrew a cellphone from his pocket. What he didn’t know, of course, was that Seamus had already used a subpoena to search the nearest server for the guard’s cell carrier—and while there, he did more than search. Any call the guard made to the admiral tonight was going straight to Seamus.
“Hello?”
“Sorry to disturb you so late, sir. This is Lieutenant Conrad at the hotel. We have a female Asian-descent dark hair approximately 110 pounds with ID indicating she’s an Agent McKay of the NCTC. She wants to see Scheimer.”
“Agent McKay has clearance. Let her in.”
The guard looked at his companion and shrugged. “He says she’s okay.” His friend nodded. “Very well. Good night, admiral. Sorry to trouble you.” He ended the call, then redirected his attention to Leilani. “Guess you’re good to go.”
“Many thanks.”
“I still need to search your cart, though. And you.”
“No problem.” Lieutenant Conrad searched thoroughly. A little more thoroughly than necessary she thought, particularly in her sensitive regions. But when he was done, he opened the door to the hotel room.
She was inside.
* * *
She found Scheimer sitting at a desk, his head down as if he had fallen asleep while working. She parked the cart in the center of the room.
All at once, he sat up, eyes wide. “Who are you? How did you get in?”
She kept walking. “I have clearance. I’m a friend.”
His eyes were red and tired. “I don’t have friends anymore.”
“You do now.”
He replied with a smattering of German she didn’t understand.
“I just want to talk.”
“Leave me. I’ll call security.”
“Doc, take a gander. Do I look dangerous?”
“N-No. You look... healthy.”
“Thank you. Those hours in the gym paid off.”
“Ja. Very much so.” He rose. “But I must call the guard.”
She grabbed his hand. “Please don’t. I need information.”
“I can’t tell you anything. You could be working with foreign powers.”
“I’m not. I’m working for myself.”
“Then you should find other work. Go home. Talk to your parents. Let them—”
“I don’t have any parents,” Leilani said, with more intensity than she had intended. But once she had started the words seemed to flow out like an uncapped geyser. “They died in a car accident. We were all three in the car when it careened into a semi. They were critically injured, bleeding to death. I wasn’t hurt much, but I was pinned down in the back seat. I couldn’t do anything. I watched—” She turned her head away, fighting back her emotions. She had not intended the interview to go this way. “I watched them bleed to death, in great pain, calling out to me for help. Both my mother’s legs were broken. My father was gasping, coughing up blood, spitting his life away. But I couldn’t help.”
She wiped her eyes and continued. “After that, my life was a mess. Never fit in. Not only was I Asian in a Caucasian world, I was the orphan kid with serious issues. In school, no one wanted anything to do with me. Eventually I became a paramedic. Trained for EMT service. So next time someone I loved was in danger, I’d be able to do something about it.”
Her voice cracked. “But I can’t. Even after I moved to Hawaii, I never felt connected to anyplace, anyone. Until I met Dylan. And now the man I love more than anything in the world has been taken, kidnapped, tortured, forced to do things against his will. But this time, I’m not pinned down. I’m going to help him.”
Two pairs of sorrowful eyes met across the room. “Dr. Scheimer, if you’ve ever lost someone you loved with all your heart—please listen to me.”
He hesitated.
“You have. I can tell. I can see it etched into every line of your face. You loved someone and you lost them.”
He said nothing.
“My boyfriend has been taken by some cruel, evil people. I know you don’t know anything about that. But you’re involved, just the same. It has something to do with the project you’ve been working on. You’re my only lead.” She inhaled deeply. “If I can’t figure out what you’re doing, and why they’re so interested—I’m never going to get him back.”
Scheimer’s face tightened. “You must leave.”
“I’m not asking you to reveal any state secrets. I’m just looking for information. Anything that might help me find Dylan.”
“Why do you think it relates to my project?”
“The same people who took Dylan also blew up the Cartwright Institute—where your colleague Dr. Karelis worked.”
Scheimer said nothing.
“When I started asking about Karelis, I was apprehended by US Navy operatives. Like it or not, doctor, you seem to be in the eye of the hurricane.”
Scheimer nodded slowly, a lost expression on his face.
Time to bring in the mood enhancers. “Doctor, you need a pick-me-up.”
He glanced at his whiskey bottle.
“No. I have just the stuff here. I understand you’re a fan of egg-salad sandwiches.”
“German egg salad. My mother used to make it.”
She lifted the lid off a platter. “Voila! Here they are.”
He leaned forward, sniffing. “With celery. And bits of bratwurst?”
“Is there another way to make it?”
Scheimer nibbled at the edge of one of the wedges. Already he seemed more animated. Perhaps the cliché was true—the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.
Time for the piece de resistance. “And for dessert”—Leilani removed another lid from a bowl—“ice cream. Vanilla ice cream.”
Scheimer’s lips parted. He looked like a little boy getting a treat for the first time in ages. “How did you know?”
“A girl’s got to have some secrets.” Especially when the answer is so simple it would spoil the mystery. When Seamus searched Scheimer’s office, he saw what the man had ordered for lunch and from where. He called the deli and asked about Scheimer’s favorite sandwiches. And as for liking vanilla ice cream—well, who doesn’t? Seamus said its near-universal appeal is because there’s vanilla in breast milk. We learn to love it at an early age.
Scheimer finished his meal, eating every bite of the sandwich, then the ice cream, and washing it down with the sour mash. She didn’t want him to become sick or intoxicated. But if the meal loosened his tongue—so much the better.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you. That was delicious. May I know your name?”
“Leilani. Leilani Kahale.”
“Leilani, you have done me a great service. But I still must ask you to go.”
She reached out and clenched his hand. “Doctor, I told you my name. Now I want you to tell me the name of the woman you once loved.”
He hesitated. “Liesel.”
“Doctor, if you could do anything—anything at all, to bring her back, would you do it?”
“Of course I would.”
She squeezed tighter. “Then you know how I feel. You’re the only one on earth who can help me find my Dylan. Please help me.”
They looked at one another for the longest time, still holding hands. At last, he said, “You mean that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
He fell back against the sofa. His eyes seemed to drift to another place, perhaps another world. “Have you ever heard of Nikola Tesla?”
She scanned her short-term memory. “Didn’t he have an obsession with the number three?”
“Yes. But he was also one of the greatest scientists in the history of the world. Perhaps the greatest.”
“Like Einstein?”
“Far greater. I have always felt Einstein’s work is overrated. People think he invented the atomic bomb. He didn’t. Yes, he devised the critical formula, E = mc2, which was invaluable to the nuclear scientists, but he played no role in the development of the bomb itself. He is best known for his theory of relativity, which was proposed by Boskovic long before Einstein. And he is known for the unified field theory, which he never discovered. Because it probably does not exist.”
“Okay. Tell me about Tesla.”
“Tesla had the fortitude and intelligence to transform himself from a poor boy in a large family in a small town in the backwater of the Austrian Empire into the most famous scientist in the world. He had a photographic memory, which allowed him to grasp complex physics at an astonishing rate. He came to America and worked for Edison, but after his task was completed, Edison refused to pay what he had promised. Tesla went out on his own. Unfortunately, although he was a brilliant scientist, he was no businessman or public relations director.”
“What did Tesla accomplish?”
“Many things. Wondrous things. His work in electromagnetism is why we have electricity in our homes today. He developed the modern standards for AC power, fighting Edison and others who believed DC was the only path. He also performed pioneering work in computer science, radar, x-rays, robotics, ballistics, and nuclear physics. According to your Supreme Court, he’s the true inventor of the radio.”
“I appreciate the biography, doctor, but what does this have to do with your work?”
He continued as if he had not heard her. “Eventually, Tesla’s battles with Edison and others caused him to travel to Colorado. According to official accounts, he was working on the long-range transmission of power. Several years of his work are unaccounted for. Toward the end of his life, he announced that he was working on a weapon. He called it a peace ray, but of course, others called it a death ray. Without providing many details, he said he’d conceived of a ‘teleforce’ weapon, a directed energy beam of startling precision utilizing charged particle streams. He was unable to get any nation to sponsor his work. By that time, his eccentricities, his obsessive-compulsive disorders, so little understood in that day, caused most people to believe him insane.”
Scheimer turned toward Leilani, his face asking if she could be trusted with a secret. “He was not crazy. He was a genius. His recently discovered notes have provided the basis for a weapon of unprecedented power utilizing a fantastic quirk of nature still unknown by most to this day. And the person who controls it—controls the world.”
Chapter 62
Dylan stared at the many pieces of the puzzle arranged on his desktop. He had written each major section of the plan on a piece of a tangram, the Chinese puzzle with seven different components that can be arranged to form any number of shapes. Visualizing the way they might fit together helped him think through the variables of his plan. Prepare for all the contingencies.
The tangram analogy worked well because, although the pieces would eventually fit together, they would never wholly interlock like a jigsaw puzzle. For a scheme such as the one he was concocting, the parts that had to be kept separate were just as important as the parts that had to fit together.
One piece represented the front guard station, another the vault, another the perimeter guards, another the sonic alarm system, another the heat sensor, another the motion detectors...
There were about one-million-and-five steps between Dylan and the Key. He took his fountain pen out of his pocket—the one Dobie had given him, the only personal belonging he’d been allowed to keep—and made some notes. He’d had a tough time convincing them to let him retain it. But he told them he couldn’t do any creative work without his pen. Told them he’d never had a good idea he didn’t write down with that Volta. Mr. X made some remark about “eccentric artists.” She had it taken apart, and when she was satisfied it was just an ordinary fountain pen, she let him keep it.
That was his first victory. Purely psychological. But if he could convince her to let him keep that—anything was possible.
He made a few notes. He no longer needed to read Felix’s research reports, to view the PACOM schematics, or to consult the personnel files they’d copied. Dylan knew them all as well as he knew his own name.
The hardest part was preparing for the unknown. This op would be a thousand times more difficult than the university mission. These weren’t college geeks and rent-a-cops. They were trained military professionals instructed to accept no deviations from protocol, to be suspicious of strangers, and to contact their superiors at the slightest sign of trouble. Security would probably be tighter than ever now, in the wake of—
He took a deep breath, then let the air slowly stream between his lips.
In the wake of the recent disappearance of one of their senior officers, Robert Taggart, PACOM would likely implement heightened security measures. He could deal with that. The sonics expert had done his job. All they needed now was the proper frequenCy. Xavier’s observation of the admiral had given him some thoughts on reducing the PACOM night shift.
Pieces were falling into place. They would be ready to proceed on schedule...
Radiation. That was the last tangram piece. They would need something to protect against neutrino radiation...
He stared deeply into a mirror, trying to fathom what lay beyond. Yes, it’s a good plan. Especially the part he hadn’t revealed.
It had to work. It had to. Because there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty.
When they were done with him, they would kill him.
Chapter 63
“A quirk of nature?” Leilani asked Scheimer. “What do you mean? How can you keep a quirk of nature secret?”
“The miracle is that this was ever discovered at all,” Scheimer explained. “Because it’s deep underground, in Hawaii, on the Big Island. In Tesla’s day, there was little activity there, mostly agricultural, no science. Grover Cleveland found the islands so unappealing he refused to support bids for annexation. But when his successor, William McKinley, came to office, he had a different attitude. His pro-annexation stance is typically attributed to economic interests who wanted to expand Hawaiian trade opportunities, and the islands’ strategic location in the mid-Pacific.” Scheimer paused, pursing his lips. “The true story is far more interesting.”
Leilani’s brow wrinkled. Could this be true? He was a good deal brainier than she. If he believed it, how could she doubt it?
“In the last years of the nineteenth century, a team of surveyors were mapping the islands and, secondarily, determining which volcanoes were still active. While spelunking in the caves at the base of a particular volcano, they discovered something they could not explain.”
“The quirk of nature?”
He nodded. “Do you know anything about quantum anomalies?”
“Definitely not.”
“Classical theory supposes that physics phenomena will occur consistently anywhere you go. What we have discovered in the last few decades, however, is that this theory is not always borne out by reality. There are anomalies. Instances in which what we expect to happen does not.”
“Like what?”
“The gravitational anomaly, for one. It’s a gauge anomaly that invalidates the general covariance of the laws of general relativity.”
A deep line furrowed across Leilani’s forehead. “Any chance you could put that in simpler terms?”
Scheimer took a deep breath. “Gravity goes crazy sometimes.”
“That’s better.”
“Electrical and magnetic anomalies have also been discovered. The surveyors beneath that volcano found that the pull of gravity was greatly reduced. Light objects would float, as if buoyed up by currents of air. Electromagnetism was similarly affected. Compasses spun about erratically. Generators pulsed with extraordinary energy, far beyond what would normally be expected.”
