The Traveler (18 page)

The man stepped away and then pulled up his coat's sleeve and saw his own numbered tattoo and sighed. He lowered the sleeve and then went to make 236 phone calls.

The children of the Traveler had to be alerted.

EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

Jack waited with Niles Compton inside the conference room. They were alone for the moment.

“When and if we find who we are looking for, that's when the expenditures of manpower and funding will be noticeable. I figure we'll need the full one-hundred-hour grace period the president promised. I figure we'll be stepping on the toes of more than just one agency here. We could possibly make enemies for the president without him even knowing we made them.”

“At least for a hundred hours,” Compton countered. “Look, Jack, if we get this one chance at getting Carl home I'm willing to alienate far more than just my best friend, I'm willing to put my career on the line.”

“This is the wildest long shot we've ever taken, a Hail Mary without much hope the ball will ever come down. But it's the only shot we have. All other areas of investigation have run into a brick wall. Other than the alien technology we no longer have access to, we have nothing other than this Traveler story we have yet to even confirm.”

Niles took a deep breath and then fixed Jack with his one-eyed gaze. “Anya seems convinced that the Mossad believed the tale. Enough so they detained her brother after the war for further interrogation, what they euphemistically call a debrief. If a hard-nosed organization like them believe her story, then we have to give it due credence.” Niles shook his head and looked at the wall clock just as the conference room door opened and Xavier Morales and the rest of the team started to filter in. Niles slowly made his way over to the conference table.

Virginia sat and then nodded and pushed a sheaf of paperwork toward the director.

“Dr. Morales, we don't have much time. What have you come up with?” Compton asked.

“Actually, Moira Mendelsohn was quite easily traced. She was at one time listed in
Forbes
magazine as one of the top-ten richest women in the world. She hasn't been listed since 1972, but she
was
listed.”

“Is she still alive?” Charlie asked.

“Very much so, at least as far as the latest New York City census.”

“You mean she lives here?” Niles asked.

“Yes, sir, she immigrated to the United States in 1950 from Jerusalem where she lived right under the noses of Israeli intelligence. Her ten American companies at one time owned seventy-six electronic and light-emitting patents.” Xavier looked at his electronic pad and then looked up. “As far as Europa can tell, Miss Mendelsohn spent no less than three fortunes on philanthropic endeavors.”

“Such as?” Alice asked.

“Scholarships mostly. Grants to the poor and immigrants for educational opportunities. She's garnered so many accolades from the New York City establishment that she's highly thought of. But she has become reclusive in her later years.”

“Excuse me,” Master Chief Jenks interrupted. “You say she owned patents on light-emitting technology?”

Xavier spoke softly. “Europa, place the patents for Weisberg Industries on the main screen, please.”

On the large monitor Europa placed the listing of all legal patents held by the company. Jenks looked at the list and then compared it to his notes on his own electronic pad.

“Lasers and lens grinding. Those stand out. Also the power distribution nodes.” He thought a moment.

“Master Chief?” Niles said as Jenks was deep in thought.

He had read as much as he could on Einstein's theories about time displacement and saw that what was on the patents list would be required elements to any attempt at what these maniacs would expect for an experimentation at quantum displacement. He shook his head.

“A laser system and power production technology the likes of which we have never before seen would be needed in any attempt at what you are suggesting.”

Everyone in the room got that same feeling of discovery when something uncovered made sense to their trains of investigation. They sensed they had a strong lead.

“Would this interest you, Chief?” Xavier said as Europa placed one more item on the list.

“That's Master Chief, boy.”

“Yes, sorry, I have yet to get a feel for military etiquette.”

Jenks grumbled but looked at the item listed on the monitor.

“Industrial-grade blue diamonds. They seemed to be a vital part of whatever they were doing, and then the supply dwindled to nothing and that was the end of their collecting blue diamonds.”

Jenks looked at the new kid on the block and thought he might have something.

“That makes sense,” Jenks said, surrendering to the enthusiasm of the combined Group. As he stood and made his way to the monitor, Virginia saw what the master chief was seeing only because it was her area of expertise. “Industrial blue diamonds have become very hard to come by these days. It makes sense that these people had to come up with an alternate light source—”

“Lasers,” Virginia finished for him.

“That's right, Slim, lasers, and specially ground lenses for those lasers.”

Niles cringed at the cavalier way Jenks spoke to his assistant director, but Virginia seemed like a schoolgirl when it came to the brutish little engineer. She was smiling as he looked at her.

“That coupled with the massive power they were obviously seeking, well, I have to admit you may have something for your ridiculous theories department.” The master chief snorted and then placed the dead cigar in his mouth and went back to his seat. Virginia winked at him and he looked away embarrassed.

“Any major holdings as far as laboratory or manufacturing concerns?” Niles asked Xavier.

“Not really. Most have been sold off as the fortunes of the company plummeted in the late seventies.”

“You mean with all of these patents the company failed?”

“Europa could find no clear-cut reasoning behind that failure except for poor management. The income the last few years has been royalty-based percentages. Still, our lady friend brings in no less than one hundred and ten million dollars a year on those royalties alone.”

“So, no manufacturing at all since?” Niles asked, intriguing Xavier to finish his assessment. He was amazed at how quickly the young genius had assimilated into the style of investigation. He suspected that Europa might be teaching him as much as he was her.

“Nineteen seventy-two as far as we can see. However”—Xavier noted one variance as he ordered Europa to place a slide onto the screen—“we did find this.”

On the screen an aerial view of a waterfront appeared. There were rows upon rows of warehouse-type buildings facing what looked like dry dock areas. The view was of an old system of buildings. Europa zoomed the satellite view until they were looking at a single building. It was long and made of redbrick. The facade was ancient and looked unkempt. On the photo they did see one curious thing. There was a guard shack just in front of the main entrance and they counted no less than five guards. That caught Jack's attention as he now knew what set of buildings they were looking at. But Master Chief Jenks beat him to it as he had spent a good portion of his naval career in and around that old facility.

“The Brooklyn Navy Yard,” Jenks said as he examined the photo intel.

“Precisely, Chief … ur … uh, Master Chief,” Xavier corrected himself before the brutish little man did the honors. “Building one-seventeen. The absolute only property holding outside of her East Side apartment building.”

“For an old building they seem to have a lot of security,” Farbeaux said as he studied the picture. “I have had dealings in the navy yard. At all points entering the property there are posted guards, so why does this particular building need the extra protection? My bad-guy senses are intrigued.”

“I assume we can locate our Miss Mendelsohn?” Niles asked.

“She's lived in the same building since 1955,” Xavier quickly answered.

Jack Collins stood up from his chair and nodded at the director. “Henri, you just named your own poison. Captain Mendenhall, you come with us. Commander Ryan, watch the shop since you tend to stand out in a crowd lately.”

Ryan looked over at Mendenhall, who could see he was about to explode. But he just nodded instead.

“Master Chief, since you speak both English
and
egghead, we may need your opinion in case we do dig up something. I would rather have a firsthand opinion than wait for you to examine pictures.”

“Lovely. I was hoping my second-language course would pay off someday.”

“And where will we be off to?” the Frenchman asked as he, too, slowly stood.

“To meet the woman they call the Traveler.”

Farbeaux slowly shook his head. “At the very least this will be interesting.”

The Event Group had a very large lead indeed.

UPPER EAST SIDE OF MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

Mendenhall paid the cabdriver an hour after landing at LaGuardia Airport. He joined Jack, Farbeaux, and Jenks as they stood before the redbrick monolith that was the Grenada Building. When away from Virginia and free of the sterile Event Group complex Jenks was free to puff away on a cigar. He glanced upward and then looked away, tossing the stub of the cigar into the gutter, which elicited a sour look from a passing woman and her snotty little white dog.

“I don't know about you girl scouts, but my hackles have just risen.”

“Yeah, they've been eyeing us since the cab pulled up.” Jack looked at Henri.

“You get the feeling that someone may have been expecting company?”

“If they were, the only way it could have leaked that we were looking for the Traveler was through Anya. You don't think she would be on both sides of the playing field, do you?” Mendenhall asked, wishing Collins would have allowed them to bring firearms, but the colonel had insisted they leave them on the Air Force Lear Jet waiting back at LaGuardia.

“No, not with what she has been through with her own people. I've noticed the Israelis for the most part have been very unforgiving of late for mistrust, and I believe being caught with classified intelligence, no matter how old, can make you vanish very quickly in Tel Aviv. No, that's a woman in love.”

Jack looked at Farbeaux as he walked past the three heading toward the covered awning of the front portico. “That your expert opinion, Colonel?”

Farbeaux smiled as he caught the reference to Sarah McIntire.

“On the Israeli attitude of the equation, yes, on the love side, believe me, I'm only guessing.” He smiled with more enthusiasm when Jack paused and looked at him. “As we all are.”

Collins, like Henri seconds before, caught the innuendo. He decided to let it go. He walked to the steps and went up to the glass and wood front doors.

Jenks stopped by Farbeaux's side.

“Someday I think you're going to press the wrong buttons on Patton there and something bad may ensue.” Jenks eyed the Frenchman.

“Ah, you mean he has a breaking point for someone he loves? Like you and your”—he smiled even wider than before—“boat?”

“You son of a bitch, I am gonna—”

The doors opened, silencing Jenks as he watched Henri and then a curious Mendenhall take the steps. He angrily followed.

The man standing at the open door wore a black suit jacket and black turtleneck shirt underneath. His beard was closely kept and his brown eyes took in the men at the door. Jack saw his eyes wander to their waistlines and then examine them for any bulges that would mark them as armed. The man stood there, not saying a word of greeting.

“We have come to see Ms. Moira Mendelsohn,” Jack said as he sized up the large man in the doorway. He was stout and would be a hard candidate to get through.

“Madam receives absolutely no visitors, I am sorry. Leave a name and note and if she wishes to get back to you, she will. Good day.”

The door started to close but it was Henri who acted first and placed a hand on the old leaded glass of the door.

“She'll wish to see us,” Farbeaux said as he eyed the man blocking their way.

“And this is so because?” the man asked, amused at the blond man who thought his hand could stop him from closing the door. He huffed as he took in Henri.

Collins lowered Farbeaux's hand from the door and looked at the well-dressed man who had a weapon's bulge near his shoulder.

“Inform Ms. Mendelsohn we wish to speak to her about her ‘doorway.'”

The man held his blank expression well. He looked unaffected at Jack's comment but there was a noticeable difference. Three more men stepped out from behind the first. The large man turned and looked at the men who had joined him and then nodded that they could return to their duties. He stepped aside and allowed the four men to enter the foyer of the large first floor.

They saw that the entire floor, with the exception of a large desk in the middle, was completely empty. In a city like New York where living space was hard to come by, this place was a gold mine if renovated. Collins had the distinct feeling this Mendelsohn woman didn't care much about that.

“Madam has been expecting you, or someone like you.”

The silence from the four men was stark as they waited for the man to finish.

“And why is that?” Mendenhall asked, anxious to discover why they were expected. He was also worried that the colonel might have made a mistake in not allowing them to be armed.

The man ignored Will's question. “Suffice it to say, gentlemen, if you are here for any ill purpose, rest assured you will not leave this residence breathing.”

Henri looked at Jack, and Will had to place a hand on Master Chief Jenks's arm as he reacted to the threat. The man did not smile, he did not frown. Jack could see that his threat was just a fact of life.