The Einstein Pursuit (33 page)

Yours very truly,

Albert Einstein

Payne handed the photo to Jones before turning to Sahlberg for an explanation. ‘You’re telling me that my father
knew
Albert Einstein?’

Sahlberg nodded. ‘They met a few days before the polio vaccine was announced on April 12, 1955. It’s a good thing we visited when we did. Albert died six days later.’

‘You introduced them?’ Payne surmised.

He nodded again. ‘We took the train from Pittsburgh to Princeton. It was the least I could do. Besides, it was hard to say no to Albert when he wanted to meet someone.’

‘That’s pretty cool,’ Jones admitted.

‘Pretty cool indeed,’ Sahlberg replied.

Rita continued from there. ‘So you see, Jonathon, you have been under our
microscope
for quite some time.’ She laughed at the pun. ‘For many years, it seemed as though your chosen path might never cross with ours. But now it seems as though they were fated to intersect. We could use someone with your training and expertise. Someone like you and David.’

Payne glanced at Jones, waiting for his response.

All Jones could do was laugh. ‘It’s freakin’ Einstein, dude. How can we say no?’

Twenty minutes had passed since the meeting on the terrace had ended. Sahlberg and Rita had gone to the outdoor patio at the far end of the lawn to catch up on old times, and Gambaro had retired to his room for a much-needed nap. Meanwhile, Payne and Jones were starving. Grossman and Fell led them into the kitchen and told them to help themselves, which was a huge mistake considering Payne’s enormous appetite.

‘So,’ Payne asked as he raided the refrigerator, ‘did you guys draw the short straws?’

‘I’m not sure I follow,’ Fell replied.

‘I imagine the membership roll of the Einstein Group is a lot longer than you two and the elder statesmen. Why were you chosen to babysit us?’

‘You’re correct about our numbers,’ Grossman answered. ‘Historically, we’ve tried to keep our membership to a hundred members or so.’

‘One hundred?’ Jones asked. ‘That seems awfully small, given the tasks you’ve undertaken.’

‘We didn’t set the number,’ Grossman explained. ‘It is merely a product of our evolution. In the past, the group has allowed more members, but the resulting conflict of personalities and ideals proved unmanageable. And since revoking membership is simply untenable, it created issues for quite some time.’

‘Why can’t you kick someone out?’ Jones asked.

Fell answered. ‘The knowledge gained by entering our ranks is as powerful as it is broad. The risk of that knowledge being misused – be it without our consent or against us – outweighs the advantage of dismissing a member. A difficult personality is preferred over a disgruntled, perhaps vengeful, individual.’

‘If dying is the only way out, the vetting process must be intense. I can’t imagine what kinds of hurdles you have to clear before you’re invited in.’

‘It is a complicated progression of approval, I assure you.’

‘So,’ Payne wondered, ‘when this is all over, what happens to us? Neither of us are scientists or mathematicians, and neither of us have cured any diseases.’

‘Not true,’ Jones insisted. ‘I once got a rash at a whorehouse. I was so embarrassed I stole some penicillin from a medic and treated that shit myself.’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘As you can tell, we’re just a couple of soldiers whose lives have taken some interesting turns along the way.’

Fell smiled at the comment. ‘The same could be said for me. I served in the Royal Marine Corps of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces before I found my true calling.’

Jones sized him up. ‘Imagine that – he’s a bootneck.’

Fell laughed. ‘It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard that term. And I have to admit, I’m kind of glad. It’s not the most flattering name.’

Jones pointed at Grossman. ‘What about you? Did you serve?’

Grossman shook his head. ‘Not a soldier. Just a Jew.’

Fell laughed at his colleague’s dry humor. ‘Ben’s comment is more revealing than you think. It actually answers your original question.’

‘Which question is that?’ Payne wondered.

‘You wanted to know why the two of us are on babysitting duty. The truth is, we volunteered for the job.’

‘Really. Why?’

Fell explained. ‘If you turned us down, I was fully prepared to press upon your sense of duty as a former soldier. And if that failed, Ben was going to guilt you into it.’

Grossman nodded. ‘That’s what my people do best.’

The patio at the far end of the property offered striking views of the rocky coast below and the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. Though it had been years since Rita could see the sunset, she still enjoyed feeling the warmth of the setting sun on her face. She had come to this spot often enough to know when the shifting winds were signaling the last streaks of light across the sky. The breeze no longer swept against her face. Now it gently pushed her toward the cliff.

It would be dark soon.

The two things that protected her from falling into the sea were a small stone ledge and the man sitting next to her on the bench. It was a seat that was normally reserved for Gambaro, who often joined Rita for this nightly ritual. Tonight, Sahlberg had taken his place.

They had met at a symposium in New York City not long after he had arrived in the country. He had traveled from Pittsburgh to attend; she was studying in New Jersey at the Institute for Advanced Study, one of the few lucky enough to be mentored by Albert Einstein himself. There was an instant romantic spark between the two of them, but they pushed those feelings aside in order to pursue a long-term intellectual relationship.

It was one of the best decisions they had ever made.

Eventually, it was Rita who had pressed for Sahlberg’s admission into the Einstein Group. Though there were no ranks, Rita was held in the highest regard among her peers. Not only was she a vocal member of the group, she was one of the few who had personally worked with Einstein before his death. It was a distinction that carried a lot of weight.

Years had passed since they had chatted in person, but their chemistry was still obvious. As they huddled together, the warmth of their bodies countering the chilly summer breeze, a feeling of ease drifted over them. Sahlberg looked skyward as the stars began to twinkle. He lolled his head back as far as it could go to observe the sky above.

Instead, he saw a face staring down at him.

A face he knew.

A face he’d hoped he would never see again.

Omar Masseri clamped a gloved hand across Sahlberg’s mouth, stifling his yell before it even began. With his other hand, he plunged a syringe deep into Sahlberg’s jugular vein. The shot of Propofol rendered Sahlberg unconscious in a matter of seconds.

Unfortunately for Masseri, he had only brought a single dose of anesthetic.

As Sahlberg’s grip relaxed in her hand and his body began to slump away from her, Rita knew something was wrong. She reached out for his shoulder; instead she felt the powerful arm of someone lowering Sahlberg to the ground. She drew a breath to scream, but Masseri was faster. He thrust his fingers under her chin, choking off her airway.

She couldn’t breathe, much less call for help.

‘I’m sorry about this,’ he whispered.

He dug his grip into her carotid artery, inducing brain ischemia: as the blood vessels in her brain dilated, the sudden shift in blood pressure caused her to lose consciousness. He gently laid her on the warm cement of the patio before rigging his escape by tying the rappeling lines to the concrete bench. Confident that it would support the combined weight of their descent, he pulled Sahlberg into a kneeling position, then wrapped the tandem rig around Sahlberg’s waist and shoulders, securing the safety straps between his legs. The final step was to lower his own body over his target’s by means of a backwards bend – a move that only a yoga instructor could appreciate – allowing him to link their harnesses.

As Masseri rolled to the side and then pulled himself to his feet, Sahlberg dangled from his back like a toddler. After securing the harness to the line, Masseri stepped over the ledge and dropped into the darkness below.

The instant Rita regained consciousness, she screamed for help.

Payne and Jones hurried through the glass doors that separated the main hall from the lawn and broke into a sprint. They spotted her in the yard, stumbling toward the house. She had fear on her face and bruises on her neck.

Payne reached her first. ‘Where’s Mattias?’

‘He’s gone!’ she cried.

‘
Gone?
What do you mean,
gone
?’

‘Someone took him!’

Payne scanned the yard but saw no movement of any kind. With weapon in hand, he charged forward toward the bench, the last place Sahlberg had been seen. Jones waited with Rita until Fell and Grossman arrived a few seconds later.

‘Take her inside and alert security. No one leaves the house until we’ve cleared the grounds. Is that understood?’

‘I can help,’ Fell insisted.

‘You’re right, you can – by following my orders.’

Fell nodded. ‘Understood.’

As Payne approached the bench, he could see that the rappeling line was taut, which meant someone was still using it. He peered over the edge, but his view was blocked by a rocky outcropping some twenty feet below. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the rope in his hands and used it to lower himself down to the ledge. There was no harness, no safety line of any kind. It was only Payne’s upper-body strength that kept him from tumbling to his death.

When he reached the ridge, the rest of the journey came into view. Far below him, two shadowy figures were about to make the final drop to the beach. Payne could see their destination: a small seaplane anchored just off shore. He leaned as far out over the cliff as he could, hoping for a clear shot at the plane’s engine. He fired once but missed.

He steadied himself and aimed again, but he knew it was a next-to-impossible shot with his pistol. That wouldn’t have been the case with his sniper rifle. Using the Barrett and its Trijicon optics, he could have accurately gauged the distance and overcome the outside factors of wind drift and the effect of the waves. Unfortunately, that gun was still in its metal case in the house. There was no time to get it now.

He fired twice more with his pistol.

This time he hit something.

The silhouette closest to the wall looked up and spotted Payne on the narrow ridge. He quickly drew his own weapon and started firing.

Rocks splintered all around Payne as Masseri’s bullets missed him by inches. Making matters worse, he knew he couldn’t return fire. There was too great a risk of hitting Sahlberg in the exchange. For the moment, his only choice was to pull himself back to the top of the precipice. He grabbed the rope with both hands and began his ascent.

Thirty seconds later, he reached the top of the cliff. He was helped to his feet by Jones.

‘What were you shooting at?’ Jones demanded, unable to see anything below due to the ledge and the fading light.

‘There’s a plane anchored along the shore. I tried to take out its engine.’

Suddenly the seaplane roared into life. This time it was Jones who reacted. He ran further down the lawn, as far as he could go until he reached a thick wall of shrubbery that signaled the end of the property, and tried to read the registration numbers on the side of the plane. Gray smoke poured from beneath the plane’s manifold, but it wasn’t enough to stop the aircraft.

‘Anything?’ Payne yelled.

‘He’s smoking but Oscar Mike,’ Jones shouted back.

It was military slang. Oscar Mike meant
on the move
. It was Jones’s way of saying the seaplane was still able to take off. Thankfully, it also reminded Payne of his options.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the commanding officer at Camp Pendleton, who he had emailed on the flight out to let him know he would be in the area. ‘Colonel Smith, this is Jonathon Payne … Yes, sir, I told you I might call … No, sir, the honor is all mine … I hate to ask, but I need a favor. I need to borrow a Yankee, and I need it right now. I’ve got an unknown runner carrying one of ours, flying southbound from my location, and pursuit is essential …’

He paused as he waited for a response.

Jones hustled back to his side.

Payne covered the mouthpiece on the phone. ‘Where are we?’

Jones glanced at his watch. Along with the time and date, it also provided an array of information such as ambient temperature, elevation, and global positioning coordinates. He read off the longitude and latitude, which Payne relayed into his phone.

Thirty seconds passed before he got his answer.

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. The honor is still mine.’ He grinned and hung up the phone. ‘We’ve got ten minutes. They’re sending a Bell Venom to pick us up.’

Jones laughed. ‘Just like that?’

Payne nodded. ‘I guess saving his son’s life finally paid off.’

‘It’s about time,’ Jones said as he remembered the incident in Afghanistan, ‘because his kid is a real asshole.’

The Bell UH-1Y Venom, known by soldiers as a Yankee, touched down on the lawn and was quickly boarded by Payne and Jones. Not only had Colonel Smith come through with their transportation, he had provided a gunner as well, just in case. Hovering above them was their support craft, a Bell AH-1 Cobra attack helicopter.

Payne strapped on the headset to hear the gunner’s explanation. ‘Captain Payne, the colonel insisted on the Cobra. It’s the best he could do at such short notice, but we can have Apaches in the air by zero one hundred if needed. Your call.’

‘I hope it doesn’t come to that,’ Payne replied.

The pilot pulled back on the controls and the helicopter lifted off the lawn. He pointed it south – the same direction the seaplane had traveled – and gunned the throttle. In an instant the aircraft were roaring across the water in pursuit.

‘We’ve got your aircraft on radar,’ the pilot informed them. ‘Looks like he’s limping along, trying to make a run for the border.’