Edge of Tomorrow (90 page)

When Syd had first arrived at Klaus Haus, she
had gone to her suite of rooms and called Soup on her Blue
Phone.

“Soup? Syd. How are you doing?” she
asked.

“Just fine, Syd. I got some sleep, and some
of my searches have ended. Did you find Vlastok?” he replied.

“Yes. Your info was right on. I talked to
him. He said Gramble hired him to kill Hatch, but someone else beat
him to it. I believed him, so we still need to keep looking,”
answered Syd.

“You talked to him?”

“Yes. Look, Soup; so far you’ve only
committed white collar crimes for me. I owe
you
some deniability. Let’s just say the Russian
assassin will not make his plane tomorrow. Or any day.”

“Bravo, Syd! ’Nuff said. Well, everything is
in place for Mr. Gramble to take his fall. There has been strange
activity in the database. I think it’s the FBI gathering evidence.
If things don’t break in the morning, I’ll give them another nudge.
I’m the electronic ‘Deep Throat’ of the new millennium,” laughed
Soup.

“That’s great, Soup! I can’t wait to see that
bastard behind bars in disgrace! In the meantime, what about the
list?”

Soup answered, “I’ve whittled it down to ten.
The Mafia guy is definitely in Chicago now. I’ll keep looking. In
the meantime, I’ll post the list on your personal system file. Your
voice print gets you into it.”

He went on to describe how to access the file
from a system computer. She gave him the good news about Hatch,
then hung up. As she started to leave her room, her pager vibrated.
It was Marty Winsocki. She connected to him on her Blue Phone.

“You called, Marty?” she said.

“Yes, Syd. I’m in a situation. Our
acquisitions people have found a startup company which specializes
in advanced underwater detection devices. Hatch has had us looking
for a company like this for quite awhile. We have a chance to
acquire it if we move immediately, but unfortunately, doing so
exceeds my authority,” said Marty.

“And?” queried Syd.

“I usually discuss these things with Hatch.
However, the deal won’t wait until he’s well enough,” replied
Marty.

“I don’t have the slightest idea why
you’re telling
me
this,
Marty!”

“You
could
approve it.”

“Oh.”

Syd finally understood why he had called
her.

“I see, Marty,” she finally said. “I’m sorry,
I didn’t understand what this had to do with me. You say this is
something Hatch wants?”

“Yes. So does Dr. Mills.”

“You would recommend this to him?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it! Do I have to sign something?”
she asked.

“Eventually. Your recorded approval will do
for now. Thanks, Syd,” said Marty. “Hatch will appreciate
this.”

“By the way, Marty. How much money are we
talking about?” laughed Syd.

“Only $100,000,000 for the initial package,”
he said. “That includes development budgets and …”

“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Syd as she hung up.

• • •

The General said, “If they expect Hatch to
wake up tomorrow, Syd, can we go see him?”

“Of course, General. We’ll take the chopper
over in the morning. I’ll call the doctor first, just to make
sure,” replied Syd.

“Thanks, Syd,” said Carrie Lincoln. “You’re a
good woman. Hatch is lucky to have found you.”

• • •

The next morning, at 10:05 A.M., all the
major TV networks interrupted regular programming to announce a
breaking story. They reported that the FBI had just arrested the
Deputy Director for Intelligence for the CIA for selling nuclear
secrets—an act of treason. He was being held without bail at an
unnamed Federal facility as the investigation continued. It was a
bigger story than finding the FBI mole back in March.

Syd smiled as she watched the talking heads
read their notes. No details were known yet, they reported. Syd
knew some of the details—maybe not all of them. She did not know
everything that Soup might have done. She did know that Gramble’s
bank records would show a transfer of $5,000,000 from a Swiss bank
into his account. The money was then immediately transferred out to
a bank in the Bahamas.

Syd also knew that the personal computer work
station—which was connected to the Triple Eye system—on Gramble’s
desk, when inspected by FBI computer experts, would have the
digital residue of Top Secret nuclear documents in its memory
banks. The contents of the buffers used to write CDs would also be
damning. The access trail posted on the files would lead them
directly to Gramble’s computer.

The TV reporter said that Gramble was
insisting that he was innocent, and that they—the network—would
break in again as the story unfolded.

Sara looked at Syd and thought,
How did she arrange this? Unbelievable! She knew
this was going down!

Sara said out loud, “Very interesting
development, don’t you think, Syd?”

“Yes, Sara, it is! I love it!” laughed
Syd. “I hope his lawyer can’t get him out of this. He
is
safer behind bars!”

Syd thought,
Now, I have to find the real shooter!

• • •

The General, Carrie, Sara, and Syd arrived at
the ICU at 11:30 A.M. Dr. Jenkins met them and briefed them on
Hatch’s progress.

He said, “The worst is over. Recovery should
be rapid now. He is in very good shape. The drug has worn off, and
he is conscious. You may have short visits with him now. In pairs,
please. I don’t want to excite him too much. After your visits, I
would like a word with you, Ms. Steppe.”

“Sure, doc. General, you and Carrie go in
first. If he asks for me, tell him I’m here and will be in
shortly,” said Syd. “We can talk now, doc.”

Dr. Jenkins told Syd that he was going back
to Chicago. He felt Hatch was now out of danger and the very
competent hospital staff here could see him through his recovery
stage.

“Well, if you’re sure, Dr. Jenkins. I
greatly appreciate what you’ve done. I’m certain you have a queue
of patients waiting for you. If there is anything I can do
for
you
, please call Marty
Winsocki. He’ll get in touch with me. When do you think I’ll be
able to take Hatch home?”

“If things go as planned, I would say in
three or four days. He will need care for awhile at home, however.
You might want to leave him here a little longer.”

“No. I’ll make sure that he has the best of
care at home. This place depresses me! I’m sure he’ll mend faster
at home.”

Fifteen minutes later, Syd was alone with
Hatch. She had gone in with Sara, but after a few minutes, she told
Sara that she wanted a few minutes alone with Hatch. She leaned
down and kissed his dry lips.

“Have a nice nap?” she smiled.

His voice was low, but strong. “So they tell
me. It’s sure good to see your smiling face, sweetheart. This must
have been hell on you!”

“I admit I didn’t behave all that well. I was
a little snappy with everyone. Also, I spent a lot of your money
getting Dr. Jenkins down here, but he saved your life. We owe him
big time,” said Syd as she sat next to his bed, holding his
hand.

“We’ll buy him a new hospital, or something.
Whatever he wants. Do you know who shot me?”

Syd did not want to upset him right then with
what she had been up to, but she didn’t want to lie to him
either.

Before she could speak, he continued, “They
had the TV on for me this morning. What is this bullshit about
Gramble? He’s a fucking, low-life asshole, but he’s not that
stupid! Do you know anything about this?”

He could see in her eyes that she did. He
smiled, then said, “Tell me about it, dear.”

She told him everything.

• • •

Karen had spent all day in her office in the
Royal Palace pouring over her notes, and the stack of papers that
contained hours of research done by her legal assistants in San
Francisco. She was preparing her case around the refusal by Italy
in 1945 to give economic aid to Monterra as required by the Treaty
of 1861.

Something kept nagging at her. She shuffled
some papers, and then she saw it! She picked up her phone and
called the Prince’s appointment secretary. She needed a meeting
with him as soon as possible!

• • •

Hatch mulled over everything that Syd
had told him. He wished he had killed Gramble years ago, then Syd
wouldn’t have had that encounter with the Russian assassin. He had
to agree, however, that her solution was better than
killing
Gramble. This way, the
Company would not come to his aid. They would want to distance
themselves from him. He was a disgrace.

“Well, I’ll admit that you did good, girl!”
he finally said. “Soup is something else, isn’t he?”

“He sure is! I don’t know how he pulled this
off. I hope it works!”

“It will. Soup is good. I don’t want you
doing anything else until I’m out of this bed. It’s too dangerous,”
he said.

“You’ve talked enough,” admonished Syd. “You
get some rest. I want to bring you home!”

“Sit tight, Syd! Wait for me!”

She kissed him again, and replied, “I can
still do some snooping while you’re in here relaxing. Now, get some
rest. I’ll visit you again this afternoon. I love you!”

Then she was gone. Hatch began worrying.

• • •

Back at Klaus Haus, Mrs. C. had lunch served
to them around the pool at tables shaded by blue and white
umbrellas. After lunch, Syd told Mrs. C. that Hatch could be coming
home in three or four days. She gave Mrs. C. a list of things to do
in order to prepare for his arrival. The list included a hospital
bed for his suite, a wheel chair that would fit into the service
elevator, and one of those hospital tables that swung over the bed
for feeding him. She also wanted his piano tuned, in case he wanted
to play it while he recuperated.

“And anything else you can think of, Mrs.
C.,” Syd added.

Syd then went to the library and logged on to
the Triple Eye system and checked the file Soup had posted there
for her. She studied the list of names for awhile, then two of them
peaked her interest. She sent Soup an internal email message asking
him for more details on those names. Something was brewing in the
back of her mind. She did not like what she was thinking. It was
outrageous!

She leaned back in the swivel chair and
closed her eyes. She was exhausted, and she had a throbbing
headache. She was supposed to report to the University of Miami at
9:00 A.M. Monday morning to start her orientation, get her office
assignment, and file various forms with them. How was she going to
make everything work out?

A beep on the computer jerked her out of her
reverie. A flashing icon informed her that she had a message. She
brought it up on her screen. It was from Soup. It was a record full
of information about the names she had asked him about. She stared
at it.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” she said out loud.
“This is unbelievable!”

She reached into her bag, retrieved her Blue
Phone, and called the GS-V crew. She told them to be ready to leave
by 5:00 P.M. Then she paged Sara and found her pool-side.

“Sara, repack your overnight bag. After
we visit Hatch this afternoon, we’re taking a little trip. This
time, you get to watch my back
very
closely!”

• • •

That afternoon, Syd told Hatch that she had a
meeting the next day at the University, so she would not see him
again until tomorrow evening. She hated to lie to him, but she
didn’t want him worrying about her. She hoped she would be back by
tomorrow evening. She prayed he would forgive her later for her
little lie.

• • •

The GS-V took off with Syd and Sara aboard at
5:03 P.M. Syd called Soup from the plane and told him her
suspicions. He agreed, after some thought, that she could be right.
He told her, also, that his inside information indicated that the
government was poised to indict Gramble for violation of several
Federal statutes, including treason. The media would have a field
day. They were calling it Spy-gate.

• • •

At 10:00 A.M. on Wednesday, September 5, the
woman opened the door to the magnificent library of the palace-like
mansion and found it dark. This surprised her. The drapes were
drawn and the lamps were off. She made a mental note to chastise
the help for such an oversight as she flipped the light switch on.
Two Tiffany lamps came on, bathing the room in soft light. The
woman gave out a small shriek when she saw a woman sitting in an
arm chair next to one of the lamps.

“Who are you?!” she gasped. “Speak, or I’ll
call the guards!”

“Keep your panties on, Countess—if you’re
wearing any! Take a closer look at me,” said the woman in the
chair.

The countess took a step forward, then
gasped, “You!”

“You seem surprised. Didn’t Colonel von Reitz
tell you he shot Hatch instead of me?” answered Syd from the
chair.

“You bitch! What are you doing here?” spat
Countess Elizabeth von Braten, her nostrils flaring.

“Your assassin, Colonel Rudolph von Reitz,
shot my fiancé. I came to deliver my own brand of justice, you
friggin’ slut! How dare you?!” spat Syd.

“You should have listened to me! You could
have left us alone! But no! You had to have him all to yourself!
You selfish bitch!” snarled Elizabeth.

“So, you sent Colonel von Reitz and
Lieutenant Würtz to kill
me
,
eh?”

“You were in my way! He would have come back
to me with you gone!” shouted Countess von Braten. “Colonel von
Reitz disappointed me greatly! I will have to do the job
myself!”