Fortunes Obsession (13 page)

     Collins looked at him, expressionless. " I'll be right behind you but let me warn you that I'm armed and not afraid to use my weapon."

     Bey raised his hands in a surrendering posture.  " No problem, my friend.  I understand your reluctance fully."

     In the elevator, Collins stared into Bey's eyes with a look between anger and menace.  Bey stood looking at him and smiled benignly.

     The two sat at a table in Bey's room.  Bey spoke first.

     " Commander Collins, I know everything about you. I am aware of your whole service record and of your untimely dismissal from the astronaut program.  I also know that you are anxious for revenge against a system that did you wrong.  I know that Mr. Fahd received from you the intricate plans of the entire launching system.  We are prepared to offer you a great deal of money to help us run our operation."

     Collins still had a look of disdain on his face.  " Look, as I told you before.  I don't know who the hell you are.  I could turn you in to the authorities right now and be a big hero.  How do I know that you aren't working for the government?'

     Now Bey looked angry. " You don't know but you have no choice.  I know that we represent a chance for you that you are hungry for.  Unfortunately, Commander, in my business we don't carry credentials.  I cannot prove anything to you.  You'll just

have to trust me.  Now, if we're going to get anything done here we have to be friends.  It appears we are on the same side."

     Collins looked pensive and stared out the window for a long time.  Bey let him take all the time he needed and waited until he spoke.

     " You think it's easy to be trusting. Everyone and everything I've ever trusted has screwed me....big time. Half of me wants to help you but the other half wants to run like hell."

     Collins looked like he was about to cry.  Bey seized the moment and put his arm around Collins' shoulder.

     " Oh, my friend, how much I know the way you feel.  I, too, have been as you say screwed by those I trusted.  You know, they say that anything bad that happens to you that doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.  I detect a great strength in you, a strength that has gone unappreciated for many years.  How much I see myself in you until I gained this great strength by destroying those who forsook me."

     Collins eyes lit up. " God, how I would like to feel as up as you.  Help me.  Tell me everything. Tell me what it is you want to accomplish and how I can help."  He pounded Bey on the back with his hand. " I'm in dammit.  In all the way. I feel strong already."

     Bey looked at him and thought that he was absolutely insane.

Insane, but controllable.  Bey had all he could do to keep from laughing at his own speech and at Collins' reply.

     " Well, first of all, the man you gave the documents to is not one of us.  You will have no further contact with him.  He is merely an information broker among other things. This Sunday, the final transaction will be made and the papers you gave him will be in our hands.  What we want to do is commit an act of terrorism against the American space program.  At this point we do not know what exactly it is we would like to do.  This is one of the things you can help us with.  You can help us decide what to do and then help us carry it out."

     Collins looked delighted.  This was the kind of thing he always wanted to do.  He loved to develop plans but was never in his career allowed to take charge of the operation itself.  The excitement that welled in him was creating a euphoria he had not felt since his childhood.  His demeanor toward Bey suddenly became friendly.  " I thought that's what it was.  I've been thinking for a long time and I've developed lots of ideas. Would you like to hear them now?"

     " No," said Bey," After we get the plans on Sunday, we will establish a headquarters near the Space Center.  Probably in Cocoa Beach.  We will start our planning there.  After the plans are formulated, the logistics begin.  We will need people, material and equipment. We must have everything in place and rehearsed meticulously before we move.  My employer does not tolerate failure.  He gives magnificent rewards for success but the penalty for failure is death."

     Collins looked Bey in the eye.  " You don't scare me.  If you let me handle things, there's no way we'll fail."

     Bey smiled. " Good, I like your attitude. Now, before you go, tell me something about America's space program.  Just what are we going to destroy?  Is this just a series of space probes that the public is apathetic to or is this something that we will shake the world with?"

     Collins shook his head. " Do you realize what the American space program has planned?  They are considering a space station longer than a football field, orbiting two hundred twenty miles above the earth.  They want to have permanent living quarters on the near side of the moon, built from lunar metals and used for mining oxygen rich moon rocks.  If that's not enough for you, how about a manned mission to Mars, at least a year in length, a voyage of thirty five million miles."

     " And all of this is through the auspices of NASA?"

     " No ', said Collins, " There are three different entities working out of the cape.  There is NASA, the Department of Defense and the private sector."

     " I don't understand ", said Bey, " What does private business have to do with outer space?"

     " Let me give you an example," said Collins, " The first commercial payload was launched in l989 by the McDonnel- Douglas Corporation.  One of the company's Delta three stage boosters, which were originally designed for government use, launched a twenty seven hundred pound Marco Polo I satellite towards a

geostationary perch twenty two thousand miles above the Atlantic Ocean.  From there, the satellite beams programs  to

England for British Satellite Television.  They launched a second one the following year.  McDonnell Douglas received a fee of one hundred million dollars."

     " I would take it then, that the industrial sector has moved into the Cape in great numbers since that time?"

     Collins nodded affirmatively, " You'd better believe it.      Big business is firmly entrenched.  At this time they probably have more complexes at the Cape than NASA and the Defense Department combined."

     " This is wonderful," said Bey, " We will strike with a three pronged sword.  We can deal a blow to the space program, the military and big business in one fell swoop."

     " You've got it," said Collins, " Now you can appreciate the logistics of what you're proposing.  This headquarters you're talking about, better include a warehouse, complete with tool shop and maintenance facilities and computer capabilities that include CAD."

     Bey could feel his adrenaline rising.  This man was a find. He didn't know it when he first saw Fahd's list but without Collins to steer the ship, they would have been going around in circles.  What a pity he would have to be eliminated after the job was done.  He could be very useful to the organization,

But, alas, orders were orders and his superiors did not debate with their underlings.

              ***********************************

     Special Agent Gregory Millard of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, sat at the large conference table with Peter Fortune and Lance Corning.  He was a tall, rangy man of middle age, dressed in a well worn grey three piece suit.  He had almost an avuncular look, with large friendly brown eyes and slightly protruding ears set in a head which was topped with thinning hair, combed flat across his scalp.  His demeanor was polite and business like.

     " I understand that you possess some evidence which leads you to believe a crime has been committed."

     Peter went into a lengthy explanation of the whole situation, leaving out nothing from the time of the photographs to the present time.  He presented Millard with all of the," evidence," Each piece neatly deposited in a transparent plastic envelope.

     Millard studied the material meticulously.  His FBI training, plus his original college education in accounting, had trained him to study things in great detail.  He sat for fifteen minutes, silently poring over everything, all the while stroking his chin with two fingers.  Peter couldn't help but notice the contrast between Millard and the New York City detective he had previously visited.  Millard was everything he had ever read about the Bureau.  At the time Millard joined the bureau, one had to first have a degree in law or accounting to be considered.  He had for years, been one of the Bureau's bright stars and would

soon be heading up the Bureau's office in some major city. He was currently the number two man in New York and Peter and Lance were flattered that an agent of such stature was assigned to them.

     Finally, Millard spoke.  " The best way to give you my opinion of what you have is to tell you that I have good news and bad news.  I'll give you the good news first.  The good news is that I agree with you.  Something fishy is going on.  That's obvious.  Everything you've told me and everything that has been going on, makes me think you're absolutely right."

     Peter beamed as if a major victory had been scored. " That's

great.  Where do we go from here and how can we help?"

     " Whoa, I didn't tell you the bad news yet.  The bad news is that under today's justice system, we have nothing."

     Peter frowned. " What do you mean , nothing?  You just finished telling us that you agree with us.  Look at this stack of stuff.  We've got them cold."

     For the first time, Millard smiled.  " First of all there is only one piece of evidence that proves any crime has been committed, and you committed it."

     Peter looked askance at Millard. " We committed it? How so?"

     " Everything you have here was obtained through breaking and entering.  This is a state felony and not under my jurisdiction, so I'm turning my head to that part.  No court of law would accept anything you have anyway.  There is no proof that a crime has been committed.  For me to get involved, there would have to be proof that a federal offense has been committed.  I would have

to get a warrant from the U.S. Attorney through a federal judge in order to search any of the premises mentioned in your papers and in order to arrest anyone.  The key thing here is that no crime has been committed that we can prove."

     Corning turned red with pent up rage.  " So in other words, we wait until something blows up or someone gets killed and then you can move."

     Millard looked sympathetic.  " Look Mr. Corning, we law enforcement professionals are just as frustrated as you are. The courts have tied our hands and there's nothing we can do.  What you see is only half of it.  Do you know that whenever we bring one of these degenerates to trial, the prosecutor can't introduce any of their previous convictions into evidence.  Some sleazy defense lawyer makes them look like angels to a jury and they walk.  Most of them commit the same crime again within months.

I've spent my adult life in law enforcement and I wish I had a dollar for every time some defense attorney makes us look like boobs in front of a jury.  If there's anything I've learned painfully, it's that you must have your evidence locked solid before you make a move.  I'm going to take copies of everything you have with me.  I will make an unofficial file known only to me.  I want you to keep in touch with me.  Call me any time you think you have something.  Remember, I'm on your side but my hands are tied."

     Lance left the room to make the copies and Peter spoke.

" How much do you know about these terrorists?  Are any of these

guys known to you?"

     " Unfortunately, no.  Terrorism in our country is in it's infancy.  We would like to nip it in the bud.  Remember the sheik in the World Trade Center case.  There was, ostensibly, information through informers that nobody moved on before the explosion.  We are just starting to take them seriously now.  That's why this is frustrating. I really think you've done a great service here.  Please be patient. I'm depending on you to get the information and do the things that I cannot do at this time."

     Peter somehow felt better with this understanding man.  He understood what Millard was saying and realized that he was still deeply in this thing.  He thought that when the FBI was called in that the professionals would take over.  He thought of Dara and how unhappy she would be to find out that they were still in this thing alone.  He looked at his watch.  He still had time before going to Bloomingdales to get the keys to the Porsche.

     Lance came back with the copies.  Each one had been placed in one of the transparent plastic envelopes.  Millard placed them inside his attache case and closed it.

     " Remember what I told you.  Don't be embarrassed to call me with whatever you think is pertinent in this case.  What you think is trivial might be important later on.  I'm going to unofficially do some checks on some of the names you have already given me.  If you hear any other names, give them to me immediately.  The sooner we can make this a real, official FBI case, the better." He shook their hands vigorously and was gone.

     Peter walked into Bloomingdale's at precisely the right time.  He had lingered outside earlier to make sure he wasn't late.  He had tried to reach Dara after Special Agent Millard left his office but she was gone.  He knew that her hopes were up and that she was thinking that the FBI would step in immediately to release her from this nightmare.  He was sure that she thought the exchange of keys would be just an unnecessary exercise and that she wouldn't have to go to New Jersey on Sunday.  He dreaded this afternoon and the moment he would have to tell her.