Curious Minds (25 page)

“You're our prisoner.”

“I'm no more a prisoner here than I am anywhere else. Whether I feel free or not is entirely up to me. You can beat me. Torture me. It won't make me any more likely to do that recording. And it will make the video rather suspect, don't you think, if I appear black and blue, with my lips swollen and my nails ripped out?”

Hans leaned forward. “And what will be more likely to make you do the video willingly, Emerson?”

“That's simple,” Emerson said. “Gold.”

“You want gold?” Werner asked.

“Yes,” Emerson said. “I have some gold. I want more. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That's bullshit,” Bertie said. “You never gave a hoot about your family business. You only wanted to be a rock-and-roll drummer or a Tibetan monk or whatever would piss your dad off the most.”

Emerson shrugged. “So I've changed. I've put away childish things. I want in on Plan 79.”

“How much do you want?” Werner asked.

“Oh, a round number. Say, a thousand Good Delivery bars.”

Werner gave him a blank stare. “That's ridiculous. We're not giving you a thousand bars.”

“It's a drop in your infinitely larger bucket. Well worth it, don't you think? To have Mr. Mysterioso cover your tracks?”

There was an exchange of glances among the Grunwalds, and Werner smiled at Emerson. “If you'll give us a moment?”

Werner, Manny, and McCabe stood in unison and left the room, with Manny once again pushing his father's wheelchair.

“You were bluffing, right?” Riley whispered to Emerson. “When you told them you wanted all that gold. You were just playing for time, right?”

“I was playing for whatever I could get. Which I don't think is very much.”

The door swung open and Werner stepped in. “Two hundred gold bars,” he said.

“I shouldn't accept it, but I'm feeling agreeable,” Emerson said. “Two hundred gold bars it is.”

“Come with me,” Werner said. “We have a recording to make. Miss Moon will stay here.”

T
he door closed and Riley looked over at Günter. He was taking a nap. There were no windows in the room. The television screens had all gone black. The air filtration system hummed in the background. She felt herself nodding off and jerked herself awake. If she was to be drugged or killed, she wanted to see it coming. She didn't want to be killed while she was asleep.

As the minutes dragged on she became increasingly worried. She didn't trust the Grunwalds. They were all psychopaths, and she was sure they were capable of the most terrible torture. A wave of nausea slid through her stomach at the thought of Emerson alone with them. When Werner said Rollo would flay Emerson alive, she didn't think it was a threat. She thought it was a promise.

She went to the door and looked out. Armed guard.

“I thought I'd go for a walk,” she said.

He drew his sidearm, and Riley popped back into the room and closed the door. Fifteen minutes later the door opened and Emerson walked into the room, followed by Werner.

“We're free to go now,” Emerson said to Riley.

“What about Günter and Xandy?”

“They're free to go as well,” Werner said. “Rollo will escort you out.”

Riley stood and made a pretense of looking relieved. She knew Emerson was playing the game, waiting for his moment. She'd play along too. She'd wait for the moment. She hoped the moment happened soon, because she knew Werner couldn't allow them to walk away. It had gone too far for that. Werner had to kill them. It was just a matter of how and when. Riley figured Werner wanted them off the military base so he wouldn't be implicated. That was a good thing. It gave them more time to find the moment.

There were six armed guards plus Rollo waiting in the hall. Xandy was with them, looking like she might bolt and run at the first chance. One of the guards collected Günter and rolled him out of the room, and everyone walked en masse to the freight elevator. Rollo pressed the button to summon it.

“One last thing,” Emerson said to Werner, “how will I get my gold?”

“Oh, that. You won't be getting that,” Werner said.

“I won't?”

“No, no,” Werner said.

“So you lied to me?”

“Yes, we lied. We do that. We've been lying for years. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't see that coming.”

“I considered the possibility.”

Werner turned to Rollo. “Take them out and kill them. Make it look like suicide.”

“A group suicide?” Rollo sounded skeptical.

“Yes, I see the problem,” Werner said. “Murder-suicide then. Emerson killed them all, then killed himself. Make it colorful. Emerson is such a colorful character.”

W
erner took a step back and everyone else got into the freight elevator. Xandy's eyes were darting around like the little steel balls in a pinball machine. Günter looked like he was still smelling rainbows. The six guards were stoic. Rollo was smiling.

They stepped out of the freight elevator onto a loading platform where a large panel van was waiting. Günter was rolled in first and laid flat. Emerson, Riley, and Xandy were handcuffed with plastic ties and herded in next. One of the guards got behind the wheel, and Rollo took the seat next to him. Two of the remaining guards came on board and closed the back doors.

It was early Friday morning and the sun was blazing over Groom Lake. The air shimmered over the salt flat and neighboring runways. The sky was azure. The van was white and utilitarian with no seats in the cargo area. Emerson, Xandy, and Riley sat on the floor with their backs resting against the side panel. If they looked forward between the two front seats they had a glimpse of sky and whatever lay ahead of them.

After a half hour on the road, Riley had exhausted all her hopeful anger and was left with such deep and debilitating sadness she could barely breathe. She knew she was supposed to be waiting for the moment, but honestly she didn't have a lot of faith that the moment would save them. Her life was going to be cut short. She'd never again sit down at the dinner table with her parents and her brothers. She wouldn't have a family of her own. No more sunrises and sunsets. No chance to use her education to help people solve their financial problems.

She looked over at Emerson. His eyes were closed and he was gently rocking with the motion of the van. He didn't look sad or scared. He looked peaceful. Of course he's not worried, Riley thought. He's been working on his karma. He's already got one foot out the door for a better afterlife. He'll probably move on to some astral plane for superior souls. My fate isn't so rosy. I just tried to kill a man…twice. And I haven't been to church in ten years. I could end up coming back as a snail.

R
ollo had instructed the driver to head for Vegas. He had four people to kill and he needed a location that would draw attention away from Area 51. Even more troublesome was the fact that he'd been instructed to make it look like a murder-suicide. He'd like to think he could put a gun in Emerson's hand and get Emerson to shoot the two women and stupid Günter, but he didn't think that would happen. And he couldn't shoot them himself and blame Emerson, because the gunshot residue wouldn't show up on Emerson's hand during the postmortem examination. Damn
CSI
shows, he thought. They'd spoiled murder for everyone.

E
merson opened his eyes and turned to one of the guards. “I'm curious about you,” Emerson said. “What's your story? How did you get here? Why do you do this?”

The guard didn't respond.

“I assume from your uniform that you're one of the nonmilitary personnel assigned to base security. As Xandy would say, you're a Cammo Dude. So why do you do it? Are you in it for the money?” Emerson asked.

No response.

“You're killing four innocent people for the money? That's interesting. It must be a lot of money. How much?”

No response.

“Do you get health benefits too? Retirement? Dental?”

“Enough talking,” the guard said.

“What's your name?” Emerson asked him.

“I told you to shut up.” The guard turned to Riley. “Tell him to shut up or I'll shoot him.”

“He doesn't listen to me,” Riley said. “I'm just his amanuensis.”

“You're his
what
?”

“Amanuensis.”

“My sister had that when she was pregnant,” the guard said. “They wanted to see if the baby had anything wrong with it.”

“That's different,” Riley said. “That's amniocentesis.”

T
hey went south on Interstate 15, past Vegas and into the desert. The driver turned right onto a little two-lane blacktop road that led off into the back of beyond. After a couple miles they pulled over and parked at an abandoned service station.

“Is this it?” Xandy asked. “Is this where they're going to kill us? It's because we know about the aliens, isn't it? At least we're not going to get probed.”

Riley looked over at Emerson, and Emerson shrugged.

“Why are we parked here?” Riley asked Rollo.

“We're waiting,” Rollo said.

There was the sound of a car approaching from the rear. The guard driving the white van acknowledged the car with a wave of his hand. He put the van into gear and pulled back onto the road. They followed the winding road toward the base of a mountain. The van stopped, and Rollo got out and opened a small gate. He returned to the van, and the van lurched forward and bumped over a rough dirt trail that zigzagged uphill.

“This is Mount Potosi, isn't it?” Emerson asked.

“Very good,” Rollo said.

“Carole Lombard's plane crashed right about here,” Emerson said. “I always liked Carole Lombard.” He turned to Riley. “She was a movie star in the thirties. Did you ever see
My Man Godfrey
?
Nothing Sacred
?
Twentieth Century
?”

“I've never seen
Twentieth Century,
” Riley said.

“I'll set up a screening,” Emerson said. “Are you free next Wednesday?”

“I'll have to check my schedule,” Riley said.

“You see,” Emerson said, “I do like some popular culture.”

“Just pre–World War II popular culture?” Riley asked him.

Emerson smiled. “I like to wait to see if it will last.”

“You don't seem to be worried about, you know…dying,” Riley said.

“Worrying is an unproductive activity,” Emerson told her. “And it's pointless. I prefer to be in the moment.”

“Or at least
waiting
for the moment,” she said.

“In this case, yes. Anticipation is key.”

The van finally chugged to a stop, and Rollo and the driver got out. The cargo door was opened and Rollo looked in.

“Okay, people,” Rollo said. “This is the end of the road. Everyone out.”

They were at the top of the mountain. It was studded with transmitting towers and satellite dishes, and off in the distance Vegas was visible, surrounded by a deadly desert under a smoldering haze. Riley thought it looked like something that had survived a nuclear apocalypse. She turned her attention to the car that had followed them, and a chill ripped through her. It was her dad's GTO.

“I know how it's going to happen,” she said to Emerson. “They're going to send us off the cliff in the GTO.”

“It
is
a colorful ending,” Emerson said. “Kudos to Rollo. It won't work, of course, but it was a good idea all the same.”

“Why won't it work?”

“We won't let it. We borrowed your father's car in good faith. We need to return it to him.”

“Not to mention me.”

“Goes without saying,” Emerson said.

“Put Günter in first,” Rollo said to the guards. “I want him strapped into the backseat.”

Günter was rolled over, taken off the hand truck, and stuffed into the car. There was some screaming involved when they removed the brace and bent his leg to fit into the backseat, but the task was accomplished. Xandy was put in next. She was in the back beside Günter. She was babbling about the space-time continuum and her grandmother's blue crystal. Her handcuffs were removed and she slapped herself.

“Wake up,” she said. “Wake up!”

“I know you're not in favor of worrying,” Riley said to Emerson, “but I'm feeling some apprehension.”

“No problem,” Emerson said. “I have a foolproof plan.”

“Great. What is it?”

“I had a small camera in my pocket. I took pictures of the gold, then took the memory card out of the camera and swallowed it. So when they find my body and do an autopsy, the pictures of the gold will be there.”

“
That's
your plan?”

“It's more of a backup plan.”

“Is there one that doesn't involve us dying?”

“Yes, but that one's a little sketchier.”

Rollo walked over to Riley. “Guess what. You're next. You get to go in front so you have a good view on the way down.”

Riley looked at Emerson. “Um…”

“Wait for it,” Emerson said.

“Wait for what?” Rollo asked him.

“It,”
Emerson said.

“Cut them loose,” Rollo told the guard. “We want them clutching at each other and screaming. We want drama.”

The guards had sidearms and automatic rifles. Rollo had Riley's S&W.

“Get in the car,” Rollo said to Riley. “Get in the car or I'll shoot him. Nothing serious. After all, he has to drive you off the cliff. Still, I could cause him pain. Shoot off a toe or a finger.”

Riley slid onto the passenger side seat, and Rollo closed the door.

“Now you have a choice,” Rollo said to Emerson. “I'll give you a chance to end this pleasantly. I'll let you shoot your friends. One clean bullet to their heads. Over and done with. Otherwise, they're going to go off this cliff in this car. They're going to be broken and mangled. Probably burned alive in the wreckage. It's an ugly way to go. Spare them that. You can even finish yourself off the same way, when you're done.”