The Einstein Papers (19 page)

At precisely 9:00 a.m. Robert Lakeland rose from his chair. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will now begin the morning briefing.”

The room quieted and all eyes turned in his direction. “We have three orders of business to discuss today.”

Lakeland paused and consulted his typed notes. “First, Mr. Lorando has an update on the situation in the Middle East.”

Jack Lorando, from the Defense Intelligence Agency, rose to speak.

“It would appear that the fragile peace that has hung over the region is beginning to crack,” Lorando began, consulting his typed notes wearily. “The rejectionist group Hamas has apparently stepped up attacks against the Jewish settlers in the West Bank. As you know, the Palestine Liberation Organization has been acting as police in the area for some time. To combat the growing problem one hundred specially trained Fateh Hawks from the militant wing of the PLO’s Fateh group have descended on the area to try to restore calm; but the unrest continues to grow. In addition, we are detecting strong signs that Iran is behind the religious fundamentalist movement in Saudi Arabia.” He looked up from the paper and continued the briefing. “At the current time, all we can do is monitor these developments; however, I would like to go on record as stating that the situation could explode at any moment. We have no intelligence to indicate why so many bombings in both Israel and Saudi Arabia are suddenly occurring. The peace has always been a fragile one and much more trouble could result in all-out war in the Persian Gulf region,” Lorando stated forcefully.

President Harper spoke from the end of the table. “First, we need to get better intelligence. Human intelligence, not the satellites we have come to rely too much upon. Next,” and he turned to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, “I’ll need an update as to our military presence in the area. If anything erupts, I want us to be ready to respond quickly. As you all know, if the flow of oil from the Middle East is cut off, the economy in the West could quickly collapse.” Harper looked around the table. “All of you please keep me posted if anything changes.”

Jack Lorando leaned back in his chair. His tanned face began to slacken as he relaxed. He could now spend the rest of the meeting listening. His part in today’s meeting was completed. He slipped an antacid tablet unobtrusively into his mouth and waited. Lakeland read again from the printed agenda: “Mr. Canter of the Central Intelligence Agency will brief us on the war games scheduled by China near the Taiwan Strait.”

Hamilton Canter, an immaculately attired Ivy League bureaucrat, launched into a vague discourse on the possible effects the war games might pose for U.S. China relations.

“As has been the case for some time now, the Chinese are hastening their movement from a regional power toward superpower status. The policy that we have followed since World War II has been to avoid containing China. We have always felt that could lead to conflict. Our problem now is that the United States has frequently demonstrated a hands-off approach, with the result that the current leadership of China’s military believe they have carte blanche to dominate the entire Far East. Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and the Philippines are all concerned about Chinas recent aggressive posture.”

“Do you believe they may attempt to attack one of the countries you mentioned?” President Harper asked.

“The CIA’s position it that an aggressive action is only a matter of time.”

“And the war games?” Harper asked. “China has done that before. It could be posturing. Or it could be something more.”

Careful not to commit himself on any specific point, Canter assured the chief executive that his agency would remain on top of the situation.

“Thank you for your report, Mr. Canter,” Lakeland said.

The National Security Advisor then introduced the last topic for discussion: “General Earl Benson from the National Intelligence Agency’s Special Security Service has one of his agents pursuing a case and asked to address the morning briefing.”

Benson, a ruddy-faced, medium-height fireplug, rose and squared his shoulders. An infrequent visitor at the daily briefing, his unusual topics and no-nonsense delivery often left those in the inner circle whispering about his comments for days afterward. Benson rose to his full height and began to speak.

“One of the agents of the Special Security Service has come across some disturbing developments regarding Einstein’s Unified Field Theory.” Benson sipped from a glass of water before continuing. “As some of you are aware, we recently liberated a Chinese physicist who was kidnapped and returned to China after seeking asylum in our country. He specializes in this particular theory. Soon after the physicist was brought back to the United States a Chinese secret police agent was dispatched to the United States to steal Einstein’s diaries from Princeton University. He was successful in his mission but later was captured after his own countrymen tried to assassinate him. We questioned him and he claims he dropped the diaries at the Chinese Embassy in New York City. We now believe the contents of the diaries were sent over a scrambled fax line to Beijing. Our agency has also learned that the Chinese government recently hired a shady international detective and private intelligence agency, named the Axial Group”-Benson waited as the grunts elicited by the mention of the Axial Group abated before continuing- “as well as a marine salvage firm, named SeaSearch, based in North Carolina. At about the same time, satellite reconnaissance reported a suspicious and unidentified research vessel off Rhode Island. The agent who liberated the physicist checked out the vessel. On first inspection, he found nothing to indicate any unusual activity, and so left the area where the ship was operating. Returning early this morning, before sunrise, he found the vessel was gone. His suspicions were aroused and he decided to dive the area where the ship had been anchored. At the bottom of the ocean, he came upon a fragment of the stern section of a sailboat that still had the name visible in paint. Ground disturbance seemed to indicate that the rest of the boat had been salvaged. A check of marine records by the agent’s partner traced prior ownership to Albert Einstein.” Benson paused. “It is only a feeling, as yet unsubstantiated, but we believe the key, or at least part of the puzzle, to Einstein’s Unified Field Theory might have been hidden on the part of the sailboat that was salvaged.”

Benson paused to watch the groups reaction. All eyes were upon him, and the mood in the room revealed extreme interest. “We are currently attempting to locate the salvage ship.”

President Harper spoke next. “Why is this theory so important and what could this key to the theory be used for, General Benson?”

“In preliminary consultations with several university physicists the consensus seems to be that if Einstein had solved his Unified Field Theory, the results might be utilized to create a weapon,” Benson replied.

Lakeland asked, “What type of weapon?”

Benson stared down to the end of the table and delivered the punch line. “There are several schools of thought about that very question. The first is that if someone could harness the forces Einstein sought to explain, an explosive weapon of such magnitude could be built that an object the size of a golf ball could blow up at least half of Australia. To quote one scientist, ‘It would make an atomic bomb look like a popgun.’ The government think tank I consulted before this meeting renders the opinion that, properly contained and directed, this force could be beamed from a satellite, and that this beam would be capable of reducing all matter in its path to a sort of “-he consulted his notes-“primordial, soupy ooze devoid of any life. Hundreds, even thousands of years might pass before even single-cell organisms might flourish. There are several other opinions as to the uses of the theory as well, but most of the scientists agree that it might explain the very fabric of the universe.”

Several in the group shifted in their chairs and straightened up upon hearing Benson’s words. A soft murmur arose as scattered pairs huddled to confer.

“We currently have scientists at the government think tanks and leading universities trying to reach some sort of agreement on the possibilities, but at this point it is all just speculation,” Benson concluded.

President Harper sat quietly back in his chair before speaking. “Could you give us a basic idea of what this theory is all about?”

Benson glanced down at his notes cleared his throat, and started speaking again. “I can try, Mr. President. Imagine a tree. The branches of this tree are each a universal force. One branch would be electricity, the next gravity, another magnetism, and others what scientists refer to…” Benson paused and read from his notes, “as the strong and weak forces. The trunk of the tree is the Unified Field Theory, the common element that binds them all together.

Dr. Einstein felt strongly that these forces had to be linked somehow. To possess the key to the Unified Field Theory would give one the key to control motion, power, and force. Maybe even the key to life itself.” Benson looked wearily at the now excited crowd. “I’m sorry, Mr. President, but that’s the best explanation I can offer. For anything more detailed you will need a physicist.” Some members of the group in the briefing room showed signs of shock, their faces drained of color. Each one sank deep in thought.

“What agent is working on the case?” Harper asked softly.

Benson hesitated before answering. “Mr. President, the identity of our agents is never disclosed to anyone outside our agency. Of course, we believe the president has a need to know. I’ll be glad to identify the agent by name after the room has cleared.”

The others in the room looked at Benson in stunned silence.

Canter, the head of the CIA, spoke quickly. “We disclose our operations completely, General.”

Benson raised an eyebrow. “I know, Mr. Canter, I read about them in the newspaper almost daily,” he said dryly.

President Harper raised his hands to quell the erupting skirmish. “I understand what you’re saying, General Benson. The need to protect your agent’s identity is quite reasonable.” The president paused, then added, “The rest of you please cull your files for any pertinent information about this theory. That will be all for today. General Benson, will you please remain?”

The room emptied quickly. Benson’s personal aide left last, closing the door firmly behind him. President Harper looked over to Benson. The two men had already faced one catastrophe together and were comfortable with one another. Comfortable enough to be direct.

“How bad is it, Earl?” Harper asked plainly.

“Mr. President, it’s all hypothetical at this point, but if the key to the theory has been recovered, the United States could lose its place as the dominant force on the planet. If the Chinese can unlock the power behind this theory, they could use it as a lever against us in negotiations-or force us into an all-out war,” Benson stated forcefully. He paused, sighed, then continued. “It would seem we have a dire crisis if we cannot recover the papers.”

“Which agents do you have assigned to this, Earl?” the president asked.

“The team of John Taft and Larry Martinez. They were the agents in charge of the ‘Leaning Tree’ incident,” Benson replied.

“I remember them, Earl. They’re your best agents, aren’t they?”

Benson thought back. “They’re very good, Mr. President. Very good.”

President Harper nodded. “I want those papers, Earl. Do whatever it takes to recover them intact. If you can’t do that, I want them destroyed.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Benson said firmly.

The president rose to shake General Benson’s hand and in the same instant they both spoke.

“Good luck,” they said at the same time.

They both meant it.

Taft tossed an empty bag that had contained two ham-and-cheese biscuits and a hash brown patty at the trash can in the hotel room, then finished his large cola and tossed that in the can as well.

“What is the H.L. Hunley,” Taft shouted aloud at the television game in reply to the question. “It was the first submarine to sink a ship in battle.”

“Yes,” he said to his correct answer, “what is the H.M.S….” he began to say when his secure phone rang, jarring his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Taft said, still watching the television. “It’s me. The satellites traced the Deep Search to Boston Harbor. She’s currently docked at Pier 53,” Martinez said. “There’s a small airport at Westhampton, on Long Island. I’ve arranged for a commercial helicopter charter service to fly you to Boston. The chopper’s waiting for you now.”

“It’ll take me about twenty minutes to drive there,” Taft said, staring at a map. “What do you want me to do with the rental car?”

“Leave it there. I’ll have it picked up later.” “Fair enough,” Taft said.

“I’m coming in on a Navy jet. I should be there shortly after you.”

“You’re doing field work?” Taft asked. “Will wonders never cease.”

“I think this operation will take both of us,” Martinez noted.

“What’s the plan?” Taft asked, still watching the television.

“We’re going to seize the ship and recover whatever they found.”

“Are you bringing along the weapons?” Taft asked.

“Yeah. You want the usual package?”

“Sounds about right,” Taft said easily. “You know, I always like it when you get out of the office, Larry.”

“I know you do, old buddy,” Martinez said, “because I’m a better shot than you.”

“My doctor told me it’s healthy to embrace reality,” Taft noted. “You might want to give some thought to that.”

Taft hung up the phone before Martinez could answer.

Throwing his clothes into a black duffel bag, Taft placed the keys to the fishing boat into an envelope and left it with the frontdesk clerk. He piloted the rental car to the small airport and left it locked with the keys on the drivers side front tire.

Thirty minutes later he was glancing out the side window of the chartered helicopter as it raced across Block Island Sound.

Less than an hour later, a white baseball cap devoid of markings shielding his eyes, Taft steered his second rental car of the day along Boston Harbor. He watched carefully for the signs marking the different piers. Finding Pier 52, he located an empty parking spot nearby and parked.