Tarnished Image (44 page)

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Authors: Alton L. Gansky

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The man exploded in fury as he sprang to his feet. He kicked David in the ribs, then in the head, then in the ribs again. Darkness swirled in David’s head.

“I have had enough of you!” His voice was venomous. Distant. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to.”

“Here, here, here.” David heard another voice, excited and panicked. It was Timmy’s voice.

“Run, Timmy,” David croaked, his words barely above a whisper. “Run.” Another kick caught David in the face. He was staring down the dark tunnel of unconsciousness. He fought to stay alert. He wanted to meet death with eyes open.

“In here, in here.” It was Timmy’s distant, frightened voice.

The kicking stopped.

Click
A metallic sound.

David rolled over on his back and stared into the muzzle of the cocked gun. “I’m still not afraid to die,” he croaked.

A demonic sneer spread across the man’s face. He quoted slowly with poetic evil: “And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death. Revelation 6:8.”

The sound of shuffling feet filled the room. “Police! Don’t move!”

The man spun around, aiming the pistol at the uniformed men who had barged through the open door.

“That’s him! That’s him!” Timmy yelled.

“Put the gun down,” a police officer commanded. “Do it now.”

The gunman threw his head back and screamed a deep, guttural cry. He returned his attention to David. “I never, never lose.” He snapped the gun back toward David. The room was filled with the report of police handguns. The sound was deafening in the apartment.

The man recoiled as several bullets struck him in the chest. He staggered backward toward the open window.

He stepped into nothing and plunged headlong to the street below.

David slipped into unconsciousness.

Epilogue

A
NGELINA
,
HER FATHER
,
HER SISTER
,
AND SOON
-
TO
-
BE
brother-in-law walked outside their water-soaked apartment and into the street. Hand in hand they patiently strolled through the rubble-lined walkway. Overhead the Caribbean sun shone brightly in a cobalt blue sky. A gentle, humid breeze meandered through the streets of Havana. Other families walked in the same direction.

“You’ll like it, Papa. The people are very nice.”

“It’s been a long time, Puppet. I haven’t been in church since I was a little boy.”

“That’s all right, Papa. God still remembers who you are.”

He picked her up and held her tightly in his arms. A single tear escaped his eye. “I’m glad to hear that, little one. I am truly glad to hear that.”

Angelina hugged her father’s neck.

Rajiv banked the aircraft and looked down at the heavily populated land below him. From this altitude it looked serene, untroubled. Behind him lay Bangalore, ahead of him Vijayawada where the medical supplies he carried from the Red Crescent and Barringston Relief would be off-loaded and distributed to the many emergency clinics along the coast. His Cessna was a far cry from a cargo plane, but every
little bit helped. Besides, he could land at the smaller airfields that could not accommodate the larger planes.

Leveling the plane, he checked his compass, air speed, and altitude. All were normal. Next he checked the passenger seat. The orphaned boy he had found two days before was sound asleep. He was a good traveler and seemed to enjoy the time spent in the airplane. The boy had already made several trips with Rajiv. The two were becoming inseparable.

The boy was not a replacement for his family. No one would ever occupy the place they held in his heart. But Rajiv’s heart had grown enough to allow one more person in, one tiny, helpless little boy.

Who knows?
Rajiv thought.
Maybe he will become a pilot.

David stood weakly before the assembled board of directors of Barringston Relief. Every part of him hurt. The doctors had taped his broken ribs, patched the gunshot wound in his shoulder, and stitched the numerous cuts on his back, arms, and legs from the broken glass. They dosed him heavily with antibiotics and ordered strict bed rest. They could do nothing for his blackened eyes and swollen jaw. If there was any consolation, it was that Calvin looked worse than he did and had proved to be no better a patient. Both men had left the hospital early. Both men had work to do.

David looked down at Calvin, who sat in a wheelchair next to him. Calvin’s wife stood nearby, unhappy about her husband’s determination to leave the hospital for this meeting but clearly happy that he was alive. He would recover from the gunshot wound to his arm and leg.

The board of directors sat in stunned silence at the video they had just seen. A frail-looking man named Archer
Matthews had confessed to being the technician behind the framing of David. He had listed each step in the process, told how the videos could be proven as fakes, stated his reasons for his actions, confessed to the crime, and implicated Dr. Elaine Aberdene as the mastermind behind the plot to destroy David O’Neal and Barringston Relief.

“Let me make sure I have this right,” Bob Connick, the company’s CFO said. “This Aberdene woman is responsible for the epidemic of dengue hemorrhagic fever in Belize, and she was afraid that our researchers would find out what she had done nine or ten years ago?”

“Right,” David said. “As you heard on the tape, she had developed and cultured a mutated virus and mosquito, ideally to understand how the disease was spread and to find a cure. She infected unsuspecting patients and then used their blood to pass the virus to the mosquitoes that would then pass it on to others.”

“She was creating a market,” Calvin added. “But she was also developing a weapon for the military. She believed that she could also spread a vaccine through a mosquito bite.”

“Unbelievable,” Connick said. “And by framing David, she could bring our research to a halt.”

“Exactly,” David agreed. “Killing our researchers would only draw attention to the area she was hoping to keep in the shadows. By attacking me, she could bring down all of Barringston Relief.”

“But what about the alien smuggling?” Kristen asked. “How did they manage that?”

“Allow me,” Calvin said. “The INS interviewed the captain of the ship again. He denied everything at first but soon caved in. He was paid to carry the undocumented aliens and
say that David had hired him. He even posed in the video. He was never going to have to work again. The Central Americans themselves thought that they were being smuggled into Florida and found out too late that they were being taken south and through the Panama canal. It was a horrible trip for them. Most had families remaining in their native countries. The captain had threatened their loved ones. They were terrified. If they didn’t stick to the story about paying for passage through Barringston Relief workers in their countries, then great harm could come to their families.”

“That’s horrible,” Kristen said. “And they’re all being deported?”

“Yes,” Calvin answered.

David spoke up. “I’ve already asked our workers in the field to see what they can do for the families. It will take some time, but we hope we can do something.”

“What about the extra guards?” Kristen said to Calvin. “I know David called the security firm, and he said you did too. What happened to them?”

“I was furious about that,” Calvin answered. “I called the owner as soon as I was able. I was going to read him the riot act. Turns out that someone called not long after we did and asked if extra guards had been requested. He then said that there had been a change of plans and canceled the request. Want to guess who did that?”

“I don’t have to,” Kristen said. “It was the attacker, wasn’t it?”

Calvin nodded. “The police have identified him as Aldo Goldoni. They were able to run his fingerprints. I don’t want to be too indelicate, but after a fifty-three-story drop, there wasn’t much else they could use. Very little is known about
him, except that he had been sent to a reform camp when he was a teenager.”

Bob Connick rose to his feet. “I need to say something.” He looked at David, then at Archibald Barringston. “David, I believed the tapes and made every effort to have you relieved of your position. I … I owe you, Mr. Barringston, the board of directors, and every Barringston Relief worker an apology. I should have believed in you more. I will tender my resignation after this meeting.”

“No, you won’t,” David said with a grin that made the bruises on his face hurt. “I almost believed the tapes myself. You were looking after the welfare of our firm. We have too much work to do. I don’t need to be looking for a new CFO.”

Stunned by the kindness, Connick sat down. “Thank you.”

“What happened to Archer Matthews?” Barringston asked.

Calvin spoke up. “I’m sorry to say that they found his body early this morning at the bottom of Torrey Pines Cliffs. He had been shot in the back. That’s near Aberdene’s firm. Apparently they discovered he had doctored the videos so they could be identified as fakes. He made the tapes so that he could continue to live, but he sabotaged his own work and made this video. He knew he’d be discovered sooner or later. He mailed the tape we’ve just seen to David’s office and another one to mine. It was quite a sacrifice.”

“And Aberdene and LaBohm?”

“Missing,” Calvin said. “The FBI thinks they may have skipped the country. Her company has a corporate jet. It left Montgomery Field two nights ago. Apparently they had planned to be out of town when the murder took place and
thereby have a ready alibi should they need one. The flight plan said they were headed for Phoenix, but they never arrived. Most likely they kept going south out of the country. She’s a very wealthy woman. She could live anywhere in the world.”

“It’s frightening to think that she is still out there,” Kristen said.

David nodded slowly. “We have work to do. Even as we meet here, the rapid response team is meeting in another conference room. Bob Connick, Kristen, and I need to join them. Osborn Scott is pulling everything together. Calvin tells me that the Justice Department should unfreeze our assets in a few days. In the meantime, we are diverting whatever resources we can from our storage areas in different countries.

“Tonight’s news will play portions of the video we’ve just seen. Kristen is already working out the public relations nightmare that will come with that revelation. I plan to hold a news conference tomorrow morning.”

“Are you going to be strong enough for that?” Barringston asked with concern.

“Oh, yeah,” David said with a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Once the word gets out about this, I expect that things will get back to normal. In short, ladies and gentlemen, we are back in business.”

Applause filled the room.

Don’t miss the exciting first book in the Barringston Relief series!

Terminal Justice

(ISBN 1-57856-023-3)

A gripping, action-packed thriller ripped from the pages of today’s news …

What happens when international hunger-relief efforts and regional political agendas collide? While one man will stop at nothing to reach a noble goal, another must decide if wrong can ever be right in this riveting novel of intrigue and suspense.

In Somalia, East Africa, warlord Mahli and his followers are about to implement a plan that is as insidious as it is deadly, unless they are stopped by A.J. Barringston, a man capable of great compassion and tremendous fury. Pressed by the FBI and CIA to provide evidence of illegal activity through the Barringston Relief organization, David O’Neal, a Barringston employee, finds himself in a maelstrom of danger and intrigue in this masterful thriller.

Ask for it at your local bookstore.

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