Read One Hand On The Podium Online

Authors: John E. Harper

One Hand On The Podium (4 page)

BOOK: One Hand On The Podium
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Alex was confused. “You mean to tell me you have taken government property and moved it off the base?”

“No, it was never on the base, Spencer.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“I thought you said you were going to help me.”

“I will, but I don’t need any more surprises.”

“It sure doesn’t take much to surprise you. Spencer, you have to promise you’ll return this map and key to me.”

“We’ll bring them back by here when we’re done.”

The colonel reached down to the desk, picked up the key and one of the folded up pieces of paper, put them in a brown, nine by twelve, envelope, then wrote the address on the front and handed it to Alex.

“Here’s the key and map. This should get you there and back without any trouble. You are planning to drive up there this afternoon?”

“Yes, we can be on our way in a few minutes if there isn’t anything else we need to know.”

“No, that’s it.”

“Good. I’ll be writing my report tonight which should get things rolling back in Washington. All you have to do is wait.”

“How long?”

“I’m not really sure. I figure it’ll just take a few weeks.”

“Are you going to bring papers here for me to sign?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. But we’ll return your key and map when we’re done today, on our way back to St. Louis.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Moss said, nodding his head in approval. “I won’t be here, so just leave them here with my aide.”

“Well, Mary,” Alex said, taking his bride by the hand, as he folded the envelope and stuck it in his inside jacket pocket, “I guess we can be on our way.”

Alex and the colonel shook hands then the colonel moved toward Mary, took her free hand, and gave it another kiss, bidding her farewell.

Alex rolled his eyes and shook his head at Moss’s strange demeanor. Kind of an eccentric old guy
,
he thought, smiling.

***

The couple stopped to fill the gas tank in their rented car before they left the base, and were on Illinois highway I-64 less than fifteen minutes after leaving the colonel’s office. The afternoon weather forecast sounded glum but it didn’t dampen the newlywed’s spirits. They laughed and offered opinions to each other of the colonel and his strange ways. Mary had missed much of his expletive-laced comments, so she thought he was just old-fashioned, somewhat odd, but not bad overall. Alex was wary of the man, even though he’d promised to cooperate. He wanted to complete his investigation as soon as possible and turn the colonel and his plane over to his superiors in Washington.

“This Moss fellow is a piece of work, don’t you think?” Alex asked.

“He’s an original, that’s for sure,” Mary laughed.

“I think he’s kind of creepy. I just want to do what ever we have to do to get this over with and be on our way, okay.”

“I agree, Baby,” she answered. She glanced at Alex, his brow was furrowed with concentration. “Is something else bothering you?”

“I don’t know. Something isn’t right here. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something suspicious about this whole Moss situation.”

Mary leaned over and kissed Alex. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

The view from the interstate was drab and boring. The flat Southern Illinois farming landscape gave little to view from their car, but the couple didn’t seem to notice as they talked excitedly about what they’d do when they reached Chicago.

Alex reached in his inside jacket pocket and handed the envelope to Mary. “What’s the first major exit we’ll come to? Open this up for me.” She unfolded the large paper and looked at it with a blank stare. “Well, Mary?” he asked.

“Alex, this doesn’t make any sense.”

“What do you mean? Let me see it.”

“I don’t know. It’s a technical blue print drawing of some sort. Looks like something industrial or electrical.” She flipped the big piece of paper over quickly to check if there was something on the other side. There wasn’t anything. Just a white blank side. She handed it to Alex. He took it from her, glancing up at the road and back to the paper, trying to look it over as he kept the car in the inside lane.

“Why would Moss give me this? This isn’t a map, damn it!”

“Well what now?” Mary asked.

“I’m not driving back. Open up the glove compartment, we were supposed to get a GPS with this car rental. See if it’s in there.”

She opened the glove box and found inside a leather zipper pouch, which contained a GPS and power cords to plug into the cigarette lighter.

Alex pulled off the interstate at the first exit and spotted a quickshop near to the exit. He pulled into the parking lot and slipped into a space away from the building. He input the address that Moss had written on the front of the brown envelope into the GPS and waited for the device to begin speaking the directions with it’s mechanical female voice.

A reassured look came across Alex’s face, “Where would we be without these little contraptions?”

“Really lost,” Mary said, laughing.

He looked at his wife and smiled.

She ran her hand down his arm and returned his smile with a flirty wink.

“Hold on to this blueprint, Mary. We don’t want to lose it. Moss surely wants it back.” He folded up the blueprint and handed it to her. She shoved it into her purse.

***

It took almost a half hour drive to find the farm, but finally, they reached their destination. The GPS unit led them to an old, dilapidated, two-story farmhouse, a few miles off the main interstate, in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. Further behind the house, an old barn leaned a bit to one side. They parked the car near the house. Alex retrieved his briefcase from the back seat and got out while Mary followed close behind. The house looked vacant.

The air was damp and chilly. Mary shivered as she picked her way gingerly over the soft, muddy ground. The heels of her new high heels were getting caked with mud and grass. “Alex, maybe I should go back to the car.” She looked up as Alex stopped. They’d reached the door. “Never mind,” she offered.

Alex took the key Moss gave him and unlocked the door. Darkness filled the gloomy interior and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust before they entered. There was a dim light oozing through a row of small skylights above. They looked out of place with the old barn, and Alex figured that’d been recently installed. Just as Moss had told them, the old fighter plane fuselage sat in the center of the dirt floor. Crates packed with the engine and wings sat at the opposite end of the room.

“Mary!” Alex shouted, “Look at the size of this plane. Can you imagine how big it must be with the wings attached?”

“Oh, I wish I had my camera,” Mary said. My daddy would be fascinated by all this. He flew in Korea, you know.”

“Really? You never told me that,” Alex said, as he opened his briefcase and took out a small laptop computer and yellow legal pad.

Mary tiptoed over to the crates, careful not to further spoil her shoes. “I’m just going to sit over here on this crate while you take your notes.”

Alex, already distracted by the job that lay ahead, began the inventory of the parts as Mary watched. Neither spoke while he worked. Alex’s footsteps on the hard dirt were the only sound in the huge room. It took about an hour for him to inventory all the jet parts and document all the serial numbers into his laptop computer. When he was done, he proudly stated, “Let’s get out of here, Mrs. Spencer.”

“You’re all done?” she asked.

“Yep. What do you think about going back to the hotel so I can write up my full report and e-mail it off to Washington? Then you and I can make the final arrangements for our trip to Chicago. Come on, Gorgeous.”

“What are we waiting for?” Mary flashed him a smile and more than a little of her shapely legs as she slid off the crate and took his hand.

***

Alex had been given free rein to handle all the details of this trip, including reservations, research and budgeting. Though it had not turned out to be as exciting as he’d envisioned when they left Washington, he anticipated bigger assignments eventually coming his way.

Alex’s work was very important to him, even though the paperwork bored him at times. He had little patience with anyone assigned a project with him who did not have the same drive and ambition. Having grown up in a family of seven kids, he being the oldest, Alex hated waiting for his siblings to catch up to him on family outings. He secretly dreamed of being an only child. As he grew older, he came to appreciate his independence and became frustrated when he had to deal with most any type of delay or petty chores that bored him.

His job was second only to his new wife Mary, and she understood that completely. She had already demonstrated she could endure the likes of Colonel Simon Moss and his seemingly ridiculous antics.

***

Alex and Mary walked slowly side by side, heading out of the barn. The echo of their footsteps muffled by the hard dirt. Alex stopped suddenly.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t hear anything, Alex.”

“Sh-h-h-h— listen,” he whispered.

They turned toward the door, silent, straining to hear. The grumbling of an idling car somewhere outside was barely audible, followed by two doors slamming. Mary bumped into Alex’s back and almost fell as they stumbled through the darkness.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Alex, I think I hear someone coming.”

Just then the door flew open. The couple didn’t know what to expect. They stood still in fear. Then, in the glare of the sunlight, they could see the outlines of two men, their expansive size almost filling the doorway. One man held a revolver in his extended hand, pointing it directly at Alex.

“Federal agents. FBI. Everybody freeze,” the agent’s loud voice commanded. “Put your hands in the air. Drop what you’re holding.

“What the —” Alex started to say. He laid his computer carrying case on the barn floor.

“Alex, what’s going on? I’m scared.” Her hands were shaking and her heart pounding.

“Just do as they say, Mary. Do as they say.” All kinds of desperate thoughts were rushing through Alex’s mind. The whole trip, including Simon Moss, so far, had been beyond queer and incredibly mysterious. He began putting things together in his head.

“You, both of you. Come on out here in the light where we can see you,” instructed one of the men. The shadow of the revolver waved, motioning them to move in the agent’s direction.

“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot!” Alex pleaded. “We’re coming out.” Mary grabbed her husband’s coat sleeve, as he led her out of the darkness.

“Don’t shoot us. What in the world —?”

“Quiet. Let’s see some identification.”

“Did we do something wrong?” Mary asked as she took her driver’s license from her purse with shaking hands. Alex carefully removed his federal ID from his wallet.

“Are we under arrest for something?” Alex questioned. “What have we done? Why are you pointing that gun at us?” The lack of response angered him. “What the hell is going on here?” he firmly demanded, raising the tone in his voice.

“Don’t talk,” the agent spoke, running his hand over his clean-shaven head. His partner stood next to him, the sunlight deepening the red of his neatly trimmed beard to a copper sheen. He grabbed Mary’s purse and threw it to the ground. He took the IDs, looked at each one, reviewed the information then handed them back.

Alex felt more at ease now. “What is this all about?”

“My name is Steve Frankano. My partner, Tom Merritt. Didn’t mean to startle you folks. We’re here investigating a very serious crime against the government of United States.”

“Well, excuse me,” Alex said unable to hide his sarcasm.

The four moved away from the barn to the two parked cars that sat near the farm house. The agents leaned against the bumper of their car and the Spencers against theirs facing each other in the light of the end-of-summer day. Merritt said nothing. Frankano continued.

“For more than a few years, we have been trying to put all the pieces together. Now our investigation has led to this farm, where in the past few months we’ve been able to find some real hard evidence.”

“What in the world are you talking about. What does that have to do with us, for Christ’s sake?” Alex asked.

“Up until this week, nothing. Unfortunately, it seems you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would hope you can tell us something we don’t already know.”

“My wife and I have only been in the St. Louis area since yesterday. What could we possibly know that would help you?”

“We know why you’re here, Spencer,” said Frankano. “We know how long you’ve been here and that your department in Washington is trying to solve its own little investigation. A few quick phone calls helped us figure that out. Something to do with that fighter plane in there? Right?” He pointed back to the barn.

“That’s right.” Alex shot an angered look at the agent. “So what is the FBI looking for here?”

“We think certain government officials have been illegally selling confidential information to the Syrian government, who in turn, resells the documents to Iran. Aiding and abetting a hostile government is grounds for treason, plain and simple. Iran is on the President’s list of terrorist states.”

“Do you know who it is?” Mary asked

“We’ve pin-pointed one of them, without a doubt, ma’am.”

“Alex,” Mary looked at her husband with an excited expression, “it must be Moss. I’d bet anything it’s him.”

“Why do you say that, Mary?” The two talked between themselves while the silent agents listened.

“Well, everything was so secretive. The blueprint and all.”

“Blueprint?” interrupted Merritt, scratching his red beard.

“Yes. It’s right there in my purse. Can I get it?”

“Go ahead.”

She dashed around the agents and retrieved her purse from the ground, which she opened and handed the folded paper to Merritt.

The agent unfolded the paper and studied it. “Wow, Tom, this is just the kind of thing we need. Look, these are blueprints for some sort of mobile weapon, right? Unbelievable. How did you get this?”

BOOK: One Hand On The Podium
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