Fatal Network Page 15

  "Yes, Vitaly. Everything is just fine." Isaac sat back in his chair and brought his hands together to his mouth as if praying.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 28

  ROME, ITALY

  Jake slowly opened his eyes to a darkened room. The shades were drawn, but a glint of light seeped through; only enough to make out objects of furniture in Toni's living area. He pressed the light to his watch; sixteen ten. That was more sleep than he expected to get.

  He switched on a small lamp on the table next to the sofa; his bed. Toni had left him a note. She and Kurt had gone to check on Jason Dalton, and would return by five p.m. He checked his watch again. Less than fifty minutes away. Milt should be on his third cup of coffee and halfway through the Sunday paper by now, he thought.

  Jake picked up the phone and dialed Milt's number.

  "Hello," Milt answered.

  "Jake Adams," he said.

  "Jake, where are you?"

  "Italy." Jake yawned.

  "You sound tired. Did you drive down?" Milt asked.

  "Yeah. I just woke up. Has anything happened since we talked last?"

  "Well, yes." Milt paused. "The government is giving me shit. They say the leak is still in place aboard the USS Roosevelt."

  "How's that possible? I take it you've heard about the bombing in Genoa a week ago?"

  "Yes."

  "That may have been to cover someone's tracks. I'm not sure who. But we're working on it."

  "We?" Milt asked.

  "Yeah, I still have a few friends in Italy. Milt, are you alone? Is Steve Carlson there with you?"

  "I'm alone. Steve took an unexpected vacation. Something about a sick aunt out East. I briefed him before he left, though."

  "Sorry to hear that. Milt I'll track down the Roosevelt and see what I can come up with. Who's the tech rep onboard?"

  "A guy named Burt Simpson. But he's trustworthy. Steve hired him personally about two years ago."

  "I don't trust anyone," Jake said sternly. "Trust can get you killed at this stage of the game. But I'll find him and get as much information as I can from him."

  "Milt, I've got a theory. Bundenbach Electronics was moving in a number of different directions up until about five months ago. At that point, they cut loose all of their research and development people except for those working on transputer technology." Jake waited for some response.

  "Go ahead."

  "Well, I think that Bundenbach decided to shift all its efforts to transputers, but then came up with the same problem that the other European companies have run across. The transputer processing is fast, but it comes with trade-offs. To make it truly outstanding, say a breakthrough equivalent to the Cray One back in the early eighties, they had to overcome memory direction problems. With the speed and storage capabilities of your chips, they can overcome all of their problems. They'll have a computer with an ironclad networking scheme at one fourth the price of any supercomputer. They could put a lot of companies out of business with a super transputer like that. But even more scary would be to shift production of transputers to the personal computer level. I don't even want to think about what would happen then."

  Jake paused again to listen for a response.

  "Milt, are you still with me?" Jake asked.

  "Shit. I wish we'd thought of that. Are you sure you don't want to come to work for me permanently?"

  Jake laughed. "No, thanks anyway. Computers are just a hobby with me."

  "Yeah, right. I wish we had a few more hobbyists in our company."

  "Do you think my theory has relevance then?"

  "Yes, unfortunately," Milt said. "I wish you were wrong, but I doubt you are."

  "Thanks for the confidence. Milt, this case is taking some strange twists. I'm sure that I'll have it wrapped up in no time. But...." He thought about his own motives.

  "What's the matter, Jake?"

  "I don't know. This case really pisses me off. And when I get pissed, I do things that may hurt others. It would be okay, but sometimes those people are close to me."

  "Do what you have to do," Milt said, and then paused. "There's a lot to be said for self-preservation. Sometimes you have to hit people over their head to get their attention. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

  That's the problem. Jake had a bad feeling about this case. Getting shot at during his first days in Germany didn't help dispel that feeling. He thought things would change for the better, but keeping one step ahead of Gunter and his men had been nearly a full-time job.

  "Milt, I'll do my best," Jake said with confidence.

  "I know, Jake. I know."

  Jake hung the phone up gently. He stroked his hands through his hair. This shit's getting long, he thought, as he pulled pieces of hair straight up. Dirty too. He rose from the sofa, quickly undressed, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

  As the shower was getting hot, Jake looked at himself in the mirror. He noticed he'd lost a few pounds. His muscles were a little less defined; probably due to his lack of working out since arriving in Europe.

  After the shower, he walked out into the living room, naked, rubbing his head dry with the towel.

  Toni stood at the door, watching him.

  Jake finally noticed her and just stood there looking back at her. He felt a warmth rising within him.

  She kept her gaze on his eyes, but had to notice him growing.

  "Is Kurt with you?" Jake asked.

  "No. I'll have to go pick him up in a few hours."

  "That should be enough time," Jake said as he moved closer to Toni.

  Her breathing became slower and deeper; her chest rising with each breath.

  Jake dropped the towel, grasped the nape of her neck, and kissed her anxiously.

  Squeezing his firm buttocks with both hands, she thrust him closer to her.

  He released his kiss and nibbled along her strong jaw and down her neck; then back up to her ear.

  She stretched her head backward. "Jake," she sighed.

  He slowly unbuttoned her shirt and unleashed the front latch on her overflowing bra. Her breasts escaped into his awaiting hand. He caressed her gently, discovering her firm, rounded form, as he had so many times before.

  Toni kicked off her shoes, and Jake helped her slip out of her skirt.

  Their lips met again as they lowered themselves to the smooth blue tapestry.

  He slowly entered her.

  "Yes," she cried softly. "Pronto, pronto."

  He picked up the tempo. Smoothly, quickly, forcefully.

  She arched her back and forced her lips upward with each stroke.

  It was as if they had never parted ways. They had always been so good together.

  After a long while, they lay united, embracing, her soft face against his stubbled jaw.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 29

  KOBLENZ, GERMANY

  The white tiles shone brightly from the overpowering florescent ceiling lights. A large nurse in white strode confidently down the corridor with a silver tray in her hands. An antiseptic odor permeated the air, enough to give a headache to the uninitiated.

  Herbert Kline squinted into the small window of the hospital waiting room door. A blonde woman sat in tears. Across from her, an old man leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands cupped over the end of a wooden cane.

  Herb started to push his way through the door, but hesitated. He wasn't good at comforting, he thought. That's probably why his marriage had failed. He wouldn't allow himself to lend emotional support to a woman who justly needed it.

  Slowly he entered through the heavy wooden door. The old man didn't move, and the pretty blonde continued to weep.

  "Entschuldigen Sie, Frau Kaiser," Herb said standing in front of the woman. "My name is Herr Kline. Jake Adams is my friend."

  Finally, she looked up at Herb; tears streaking her high cheek bones. "Is Jake here?" she asked softly.

  "No. I just found out that your husband, Walter, was here less than an
hour ago."

  "You're the Customs Officer?" she asked.

  "Yes." Herb quickly flashed his identification to prove who he was, and hopefully put her at ease. "How is your husband?"

  She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs in the opposite direction. "The doctors won't commit themselves one way or the other. He has a lot of internal bleeding."

  Herb noticed that she found strength in talking about Walter's condition. "I'm sure he'll be fine," Herb said. "This is the best Krankenhaus in Koblenz...perhaps in all of Rhineland-Pfalz."

  She nodded.

  "Can you tell me what happened?"

  "I don't know much. I came home with Jakob, my son, after spending the evening with my parents. Walt decided at the last minute not to come with me. He said he had some things to clear up on a case he's been working. When I came home, he was gone. His computer was on, the lights were on, but that was it. I thought he might have taken a walk. He does that from time to time. I put Jakob to bed, and then started to worry when he still wasn't home. I called his assistant to see if he had gone there, but he hadn't."

  "So, how did they find him?" Herb asked softly.

  "A young couple found him this morning lying in the street less than five blocks from here. I...I didn't recognize him when I saw him." She covered her eyes with her hands and shook trying to hold back the tears.

  Herb placed his hand on her shoulder. "We'll find the bastards who did this." He knew that he wouldn't have to look far. Gunter's men had done just what they were told. Get the information, but don't kill him, Gunter had said. What could Walter Kaiser have known to make him hold out that long? Perhaps only Jake and Walt could answer that...and maybe Gunter now.

  "How did you get here then, Frau Kaiser?" Herb asked, trying to displace some of the tears.

  "One of Walt's men drove me from Wiesbaden."

  Herb saw a flash of white at the door through the corner of his eye. A doctor waited as Herb had, not knowing if he really wanted to enter. Herb quickly went out to greet the silver-haired doctor.

  "Are you Walter Kaiser's doctor?" Herb asked anxiously.

  "Yes. Are you with the Polizei?"

  Herb didn't say a word. He simply flashed his credentials quickly and slid them back into his pocket. "Well? How is he?"

  "Pretty banged up," the doctor said. "He lost blood internally and through numerous cuts and lacerations. He looks like somebody dragged him behind a Mercedes at high speed on the Autobahn. He has broken ribs, a broken nose and jaw. A few fingers were snapped like twigs. Whoever did this must enjoy giving pain. It appears that Herr Kaiser resisted heavily."

  "Has he said anything yet?"

  "Yes, he keeps mumbling something. It's hard to make out, but I think he's saying, Johnson, and Boss. I don't understand what that means. Do you?"

  Herb thought for a moment. Johnson? He's dead. What could Johnson be the boss of? That makes no sense. "No, it makes no sense to me," Herb finally said. "But I'll guarantee one thing. I'll find out who did this. May I speak with him?"

  "Yes, for a moment. But I'm not sure how much he'll understand."

  Inside the private room, tubes protruded from nearly every opening on Walt's body. A machine pumped a bellows up and down and acted as Walt's lungs. He could have been any man, Herb thought. He had never met Walter, but was sure he looked nothing like the frail entity lying before him. Would he trust a stranger? Herb scanned the room to be certain they were alone, and then moved next to the bed.

  "I'm Herbert Kline, a good friend of Jake Adams, and an agent with the German Customs Office," he started. "I know the men who did this to you, and will make them pay dearly. But first, I need some information from you."

  Herb looked around again. He had to find out what, if anything, Walt told the men.

  Walt's face was heavily bandaged, and his eyes were swollen nearly shut. So it was hard for Herb to know if Walt's eyes were even open. Finally, the same words that the doctor had heard came out softly. "Johnson...boss."

  Damn it! What in the hell does that mean? "Johnson is dead!" Herb said adamantly.

  "Boss...." Walt said desperately.

  Johnson...boss. "Johnson's boss?" Herb asked.

  Walt attempted to nod his head.

  Who in the hell is Johnson's boss? Did he mean Gunter? "Gunter Schecht?"

  Walt shook his head sideways.

  A monitor the size of a lunch box kept track of Walt's pulse and heart rhythm, and was now producing an erratic and fluctuating wave setting off a buzzer.

  In a few seconds, the doctor and the large nurse came barging through the door and put an end to the questioning.

  Herb walked back toward the waiting room. Two uniformed Polizei were now positioned outside the door. Herb didn't want to be questioned at this time on what his involvement was in the case. Nor did he care to explain how he gained access to Walt's room. Instead, he changed directions and departed the hospital by way of the stairs.

  BONN, GERMANY

  Herb slammed his office door behind him. The outside hall probably reverberated from the percussion, but on Sunday nobody was there to turn their heads in disgust or complain out loud. Herb sat down hard in his swivel chair and stared at his cluttered desk. "Now what, Herbert?" he said softly to himself.

  He opened the lower right desk drawer and withdrew a fresh liter of schnapps. Gently, he broke the seal with a twist and set the bottle down on the desk in front of him. The schnapps rocked back and forth against the side of the glass as a stone would do to water when dropped in a clear mountain pool. He grabbed the bottle and poured a shot glass nearly full. Then he hesitated. Jake was depending on him to keep the investigation going strong in Germany, and he had failed miserably. Jake's good friend lay battered in the hospital, and Gunter could now know where Jake was and what he was up to in Italy. The answers remaining couldn't be found in the bottle, he realized.

  Slowly, Herb picked up the shot glass and started pouring it back into the bottle. Most made it into the bottle, but in the end, his desk was splotched. "Shit!" After capping the bottle and returning it to the drawer, he cleaned the mess with paper towels.

  Herb had to know why Gunter and his men were so willing to waste human lives, or at least snub them from dignity as he had with Walter Kaiser. What would Jake do? Herb closed his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands. He felt like weeping as Frau Kaiser had. But tears, like schnapps, rarely found solace in Herb's mind. Only the schnapps flowed freely regardless.

  Herb pressed his fingers against his temples as if trying to squeeze an answer from his memory. He and Jake had planned for nearly every contingency. If Jake were to come up missing, Herb was to quickly turn his information over to the CIA and German Intelligence. Jake would do the same for Herb.

  He was beginning to think that it was time to turn the case over to the Intelligence Community anyway. Why should he have to put up with Gunter and his men? But, of course, that was part of the problem. Gunter had so many friends in German Intelligence that he didn't know who to turn the case over to. Who could he trust? At least now he knew that he could trust himself and Jake...and Kaiser if he survived. This wasn't a case of national security, but more of national direction, he thought. It was becoming obvious that corporations would now do most anything to survive and prosper. The merger of the European Economic Community into one market made that even more important, he thought. So, German Intelligence would have to wait. This was a commercial and economic case, he convinced himself. German Customs would work this one until the end...with the help of one American.

  He rose from his chair and went to the window overlooking the Rhine River. The current flowed smoothly to the north. It had always been a deceiving flow to Herb. The water appeared to be stagnant, but in reality was strong and swift. Perhaps this case had been deceiving as well. It had appeared to be a simple case of customs violation. The transfer of technology that was not allowed by the United States, Germany, or NATO allies. But now murder, kidnapping and terrorism had
moved the case forward as dangerously as the swift Rhine.

  Herb returned to his desk and opened the top drawer. He looked carefully at the brown leather holster that contained the Walther 9mm automatic that was issued to him, but rarely used. He took off his jacket, wrapped the shoulder harness into place, and clipped the pistol under his left arm. Slowly, he put his jacket back on. Jake was counting on him, and now he'd have to prove that he could handle Gunter. Maybe not only for Jake, but for himself.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 30

  ROME, ITALY

  A warm breeze out of North Africa streaked the temperature upward and gave the Romans hope for a short winter. The Monday streets were teamed with cars with windows down, and sidewalks with pedestrians carrying their coats over their shoulders.

  Toni Contardo got out of the Fiat cab, paid the man, and walked swiftly toward a restaurant less than a block from the Colosseum. She noticed that the tables that were normally reserved for the warmer months had been pulled out on short notice to accommodate the quickly increasing noon crowd.

  She didn't see her lunch date, so she went inside. After taking off her sunglasses, she quickly scanned the small room to the left and the alcove to the right. Nothing. Then back in the corner she saw a large hand waving above the crowd. Taking careful steps around the crowded tables, she finally reached the small table with two chairs against the back wall.

  Bruno Gallano rose from his chair to greet her. He kissed her on both cheeks and they sat down. She looked closely at his face and read the bags under his eyes. They said he had lost far too much sleep. Probably on the Genoa bombing.

  "You look fantastic, Toni," Bruno said, letting his tired eyes shift up and down Toni's body.

  She hesitated. "Thanks. You look tired."

  He shook his head and then took a slow sip of Chianti. "Yes, I guess I do," he said softly. "I have a lot of pressure on this case I'm working. It just doesn't make any sense. I think I've come up with a breakthrough, and then I run into a brick wall and have to backtrack." He shook his head again.