The Traveler (30 page)

“Brilliant designs, I might add,” Morales said. “But I digress. Master Chief, I need the escape pod design specs. Europa may have come up with a solution. As I said it's a long shot, but it's better than what the alternative would be.”

“What is it?” Jenks asked as he looked from Virginia to the screen.

“The pod was designed with a global positioning locater, correct?”

“Yes, it acts as a homing beacon upon ejection for search and rescue. All of the pods had them.”

“Completely waterproof?” Xavier continued.

“Yeah, it's a sealed unit,” Jenks grumbled as he wondered if the kid was questioning his design.

“This is important, Master Chief: What is the life span of the locator beacon?”

“Six months, maybe seven.”

Morales looked away for a moment and his face was lost in the large monitor. He reappeared.

“Europa may have found a way to bypass a second doorway signal. She may be able to lock on to Admiral Everett's search-and-rescue marker if you can get this doorway open to allow her signal to get through to search for the correct frequency.”

Anya felt her heart skip a beat. All others looked into the monitor absolutely blown away by the young Morales and his obvious and immediate connection with the supercomputer, Europa.

“Dr. Mendelsohn?” Compton said, looking toward the woman.

“I would need to know the frequency of the rescue beacon for the initiating doorway to lock on to, but this may be promising if the beacon is still active.”

All eyes shot back to Niles.

“Virginia, you and Master Chief Jenks are excused. Get with Dr. Morales and see if we have something here.

“Professor Ellenshaw, I need the report by you and the anthropology department on the primordial situation we could be walking into on the continent of Antarctica two hundred twenty thousand years ago, give or take two thousand years. Lieutenant McIntire, the same goes on the geologic front. I need answers, people, on what sort of environment we will be walking into there. I also need the zoological department along with anthropology to get us a read on possible animal and humanoid life, and I need all of this yesterday. Alice will coordinate.”

Niles conferred long distance with the other department heads sitting in the conference room in Nevada as Sarah and Alice both watched Anya eyeing Moira suspiciously. Both women knew Anya had discovered something about the Traveler that had disturbed her. As Moira explained some technical detail or other to Virginia and an attentive Jenks, Anya finally made eye contact with Sarah and nodded toward the door. Sarah looked at Alice and excused herself. Jack eyed the two suspiciously for getting up without comment. He looked at Henri and his head tilted ever so slightly in question.

As she stepped out of the office door, Sarah saw Anya looking out of a filthy window at the overcast and defused light outside.

“Alice and I wondered when you were going to let us in on what was bothering you,” Sarah said as she laid her electronic pad on the table lining a stained wall and then sat on its edge, waiting as Anya slowly turned to face her and the inquiry.

“She is hiding something,” Anya said, biting her lip.

“We all hide things, Moira probably more than most,” Sarah countered.

“My brother,” the voice said from the doorway.

Anya and Sarah turned and that was when they saw the Traveler sitting in her chair with her hand still on the old brass doorknob. She had been sitting there silently.

“Moira, I—”

The wheelchair slowly moved into the room and Moira examined the two women.

“I was searching for my brother. Sixteen times I made the transition through the doorway, and sixteen times I failed to find him.” The old woman advanced into the old outer office where shipyard accountants and naval engineers used to sit huddled doing their jobs of long ago. The wheelchair was silent as she moved it across the floor. She stopped next to Anya and she too looked out at the dreary day over Brooklyn.

“The brother who was used as a hostage while you traveled?” Sarah asked, remembering her file.

“Yes. Joseph.” She smiled at the mention of the name as she recalled his precious face to mind. She turned and took in both women as if she wanted them to understand. “I called him Flea, he was so small.”

“You had to have known the doorway was destroyed behind you. You said it yourself in your postwar debrief to the allies and then again to Israeli intelligence. So why would you make an attempt at something that was now clearly impossible?”

Sarah saw the answer first as her training dictated she would. “The first Wellsian Doorway from the previous year, the first built in Germany,” Sarah said as she watched Moira for the truth of her educated guess.

“Yes, the first doorway, built and unused for anything except for me and the initial experiments, the Nazi's own Traveler.” She looked at the two women and smiled, a sad attempt. “The experiment was a closed one. That meant that when the bunker was evacuated after the construction of the doorway in 1942, it was left unguarded and in pristine condition for their test rat to emerge from that very first, abandoned machine. I would eventually use that first doorway and I and my team would attempt to bring my brother out of 1942 Nazi Germany. An impossible task, which was hard learned. We would go in two-week increments and search for him. First in Dortmund, and then at Bergen-Belsen, where we were all kept before the experiments had begun in 1942. We found nothing.”

Sarah was more interested in Anya's reaction to Moira's explanation than the Traveler's words. Anya raised the black brow over her alternating blue-green right eye.

The door opened and Charlie stuck his crazed white head of hair inside and found Moira.

“Dr. Mendelsohn, Director Compton is ready for you.” He looked at the serious expressions in the room and immediately ducked away. After all, Charlie had been receiving dirty looks most of the day from Ryan and Collins every time they saw him. The door quickly closed. He was beginning to think that the music fiasco would kill his chances at coming along with the mission group.

Moira looked at Anya and then Sarah before she turned the wheelchair for the door where Sarah held it open for her. Without a look back or another word, Moira went back into the meeting.

“Well, you're the Gypsy—is she lying? I thought she spoke the truth. Of course my instincts are based on nothing in particular … what does the spy in you say?” Sarah asked as she walked away from the door and faced Anya.

“No, she's not lying, Sarah.” The former Israeli intelligence agent bit her lip once more and then looked at the door and the meeting beyond. “But she's not being straightforward either. She's not letting us completely inside yet.”

“Dr. Morales said that when Moira covered her tracks in the sixties and seventies she did it better than anyone he had ever seen outside of black operations people. He said it will take him and Europa months to uncover her true past. He said he will eventually dig it out, but she was that good at covering and hiding her intentions to the world in general.”

“Look, I know Jack and the security department have their hands full at the moment with this Russian mob aspect, but can you shift your duties to your assistant in geology? I think we girls need a trip into Westchester.”

Sarah looked surprised.

“What's up in Westchester?” she asked as Anya faced her at the door.

“That is where the private home is located that our Miss Mendelsohn used as an orphanage. It's closed down after all of these years but it's still there. We need to see about these two hundred and thirty-seven orphans she supported. Let's see if we can track someone down who can tell us just why Miss Mendelsohn was so generous of not only her money, but her time.”

“I'm not getting an evil, or even a bad vibe from Moira, and I usually get them from people with less-than-honorable intent.”

“Yes, but as you so brashly pointed out, Sarah, I'm a Gypsy and a spy.”

Sarah raised her brows and smiled as Anya opened the door to return to the meeting.

“Well, Jack's already pissed at me, so, what the hell, I guess we'll take a drive to Westchester County.”

UPPER EAST SIDE OF MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY

The younger man watched the CEO place the silk scarf around his neck and then pull on the slightly heavier coat over his two-thousand-dollar British-made suit. Joshua Jodle watched the old man with ever increasing contempt. After being assisted with his coat the CEO faced the younger man. The ever-present smile was in place where it always has been. He handed him his expensive briefcase as they stood before the private elevator.

“Look, Jodle, I want you up at Lake Champlain no later than eight o'clock tonight. We have to get this ugly business sorted out soon before everyone from the FBI to the Securities and Exchange Commission starts a witch hunt.” The dark eyes warned Jodle that if he wasn't part of the solution he could easily be made part of their problem-solving efforts in the next few days.

“Yes, sir, the helicopter will return for me as soon as I find out the disposition of our eastern friends.”

“You do that. Now, the other members of the board are already onboard.” The elevator doors opened and the CEO allowed Jodle in first simply because the chairman was just too important to push the button for the roof. Jodle did and then watched as the older man stepped inside. The doors closed and the elevator climbed to the fiftieth floor in silence.

The wind had picked up and the night had some bite to it as the elevator doors opened onto the roof of the expensive apartment building—one of the most exclusive in the city. The helicopter's rotor started to turn as the executive Sikorsky made ready for its run to the Lake Champlain meeting house where the entire board of directors would decide on how to handle the Moira Mendelsohn problem that seemed to be getting larger the longer they waited.

“Find out what that fool Russian is playing at. We need the details so we may respond appropriately.”

“Yes, sir,” Jodle said as the old man turned and walked briskly to the idling helicopter where the other six men of the board of directors waited inside the plush helicopter. Jodle even managed to wave his hand at the pilot, who nodded as the door closed. The idling engine went to full power for its liftoff from Manhattan. The gleaming Sikorsky lifted free of the helipad and slowly started to climb. It peeled off as soon as it cleared the roof and rose even higher over the East River. Jodle watched as his left hand held the elevator doors and his grip was pure white as he waited.

The explosion was bright and reflected off the heavy rain clouds covering the skyscrapers. The Sikorsky disintegrated and the pieces floated easily toward the water far below. The last to strike was the twirling rotor blades that hit with a spectacular wash of spray that shot high into the sky. Jodle closed his eyes when he knew he wasn't alone.

“There, that was a simple solution to a sticky problem, wasn't it? Now look who gets to take over the firm in the number one slot.” There was laughter. “You can thank me later.”

Jodle turned and saw the hand on his shoulder as the Russian stepped free of the shadows. Three of his bodyguards were with him.

“It was a risk to take them out before we are assured of Madam Mendelsohn's full cooperation.”

“That's why we have you, my young friend. You were the last one of her orphans through the doorway, we just need you to turn it on for us.” Mr. Jones, as he was called at all times, smiled and slapped the younger man hard on the back. “Besides, with the stolen list of your madam's children, the task of gaining her cooperation is made that much easier.” The Wall Street trader grimaced as the blow to the back the Russian had administered a moment before almost made him lose the air in his lungs.

“It's a bit more complicated than that,” Jodle said, hoping to dampen the high spirits of the cold-blooded killer.

He faced Jodle and the smile was gone.

“Let's hope it is not, for your sake.” The Russian turned and started for the closed elevator doors and then waited on the younger man to catch up with him.

“And what do we do about those people at the navy yard?” The tall man waited for the Russian to acknowledge his concern. The bell chimed and the elevator doors slid open to reveal three of the mobster's men waiting inside. He hesitated before climbing into the car. He turned with his black-gloved hand on the doors, halting their closing cycle.

“As of now I have four missing men who were conducting surveillance on these strangers. It seems whoever these people are”—he looked up into the trader's face—“are very resourceful. That scratches most of the NYPD and federal authorities off the list. Especially since most of this borough's uniformed men work for me in one capacity or another.” He stepped into the car and raised his dark brows until Jodle joined the four men inside.

“Regardless of who they are, they will nevertheless dismantle the doorway and remove it. And I assure you, Mr. Jones, the process cannot be duplicated. Times have changed and getting the necessary technology for duplication is highly illegal and, I might add in most cases, impossible to acquire. So if I may ask, how do you intend on getting the only working doorway out of the hands of these people?”

That irritating, knowing smile etched the Russian's face as the elevator doors started to close.

“We do what any civilized gentlemen would do: we ask politely.”

The doors closed on the shocked face of the stockbroker.

FISHKILL, NEW YORK

The families were gathered to celebrate the birth of their first granddaughter. The proud parents held the newborn as the grandparents beamed while taking photos. The young woman was the only child of the couple who came to be parents a little later in life than usual, even for New York yuppies.

The grandfather had recently retired from a construction firm where he had served as an engineer for forty years. He and his wife considered themselves young and vital and prepared for the challenges of the second half of their lives. They felt it was all well deserved for the horrid first few years they had suffered. Benjamin and Natalie Koblenz were now complete and had guaranteed themselves that their strange legacy was going to continue in the grinning face of the newborn baby they now watched in their daughter's arms.