Sex on the Moon (24 page)

“I don’t even know your—Orb? I was going to say I don’t even know your real name, but that’s all right. You have one more friend coming, too?”

Thad shrugged, because he was really hoping that Gordon would just pass out at his table. Then, without warning, Kurt broke into the conversation for the first time, his words barely audible through a thick European accent.

“Now, this is exciting. I’m betting you will think about this for the rest of your life. You guys will be off to some beach somewhere, and you’ll remember this day, this life-changing event. Very fun.”

Thad glanced at Rebecca, who seemed to be put slightly at ease by the man’s happy comments. Maybe she was picturing that beach. Thad looked toward the briefcase full of money, then back at the couple across from him. A ship in a storm that seemed to be settling, he’d pitched back to some level of confidence; he was ready to move this along.

“Well, we’ve talked quite a bit. I feel very comfortable. I think it’s a good idea not to open the briefcase in the restaurant. And all of the samples are in the hotel.”

He was squeezing Rebecca’s hand under the table, and he felt her leaning into him, feeding off his renewed confidence.

“Oh, and tell them about the Antarctic meteorite,” she burst in, her voice filled with energy.

Thad felt himself smiling. Rebecca was right. Why not have some fun with this? There was nothing he loved more than an enrapt audience.

“Have you heard of the ALH meteorite? It was collected in Antarctica. We have a NASA team that goes down every year. It’s a great place to find meteorites.”

The woman and her Belgian husband were leaning in over the table, obviously intrigued. Thad felt like he was back at the JSC, speaking to new co-ops, always the center of attention.

“Anyway, they bring them all back to NASA and start cataloging them. The first one they said, this looks so weird, so they called it 84, in the dilute form 001. They just put it in a big freezer, so it wouldn’t be contaminated. They started studying it and noticed really strange stuff on it. It looked like microfossils. So they studied it more in depth and verifiably proved it’s from Mars—”

And right in the middle of his lecture, suddenly there was Gordon, leaning in over the table, his breath stinking of alcohol. Before Thad or Rebecca could say anything, he was sliding into the seat next to them, his hand shooting out toward the couple across the table.

“Gordon,” he said, by way of introduction. Kurt and Lynn shook his hand, and then he was shouting toward the waiter.

“Heineken!”

Thad felt his face getting red. But the couple seemed to take it all in stride, and they had already turned their attention back to him. He decided to just ignore Gordon as much as possible, and continued his story.

“So everyone also agrees that the stuff is actual microfossils. The question is, since it is here, what does that mean? Anyway, needless to say, it’s one of the most famous rocks on the planet. I didn’t put that in the list originally. Quite a find, huh?”

Lynn looked at her husband, then back at Thad.

“Isn’t it in something to protect it, and keep it from being exposed?”

Thad nodded. She really seemed interested. Maybe she’d want to buy that, too. Maybe there were more briefcases full of money to be had. And maybe he would sell it, if the price was right. Hell, he was beginning to feel loose, like anything could happen.

“Yes, it’s in a vial. Oh, you’re gonna love it. This is like an extra bonus. We were very happy when we found it. At least, as a scientist, this—this one specimen is the most famous rock on the planet. Wow.”

And then suddenly Gordon was butting in, his voice way too loud.

“Remember, you just saw something the other day about it on TV! He shows me it—remember this? It was on TV!”

Thad stared daggers at him. What the fuck was he even talking about? Gordon’s eyes were totally bloodshot, his eyelids at half-mast. He was royally fucked up. But the couple still didn’t seem to be bothered. The woman cleared her throat, drawing Thad’s attention back to her.

“So, are you all mineralogists?”

“I’m actually into bioengineering,” Rebecca butted in. “We go to school together. I’m biology.”

“Are you really?”

“Bioengineering.”

“Mineralogy, well, geology,” Thad said, pointing to himself.

Gordon coughed.

“He’s got three degrees he’s working on. Yeah. He’s a freaking genius.”

Thad smiled thinly.

“I can pick between the three.”

“The Cayman Islands!” Gordon suddenly shouted, taking them all by surprise. “Isn’t that where we’re trying to get anyway, with school? Sit on the beach and enjoy it! It’s the Bible that’s worked for us!”

Christ, he was really losing it. Thad glanced at Rebecca, and he could see she was thinking the same thing. They needed to wrap this up, and quickly. Thad lowered his voice, speaking directly to Lynn.

“Do you wanna just go ahead and get the check?”

Gordon butted in again before she could answer.

“I gave that girl back there a thirty-dollar tip!” he exclaimed. Thad wished he would just shut the fuck up, but Lynn seemed amused, rather than afraid.

“Are you kidding me? Dude, you’re crazy.”

“It was her first, I was her first table, ever. Aw, it was her first table. I said I’m gonna make your night. Belgium, eh, how is Europe now?”

This last was to Kurt. The guy seemed not quite to know what to make of Gordon, but he gamely tried to answer. For Thad, it was like watching a train wreck in progress.

“Europe is well. It’s still Europe. It’s home.”

“Did Belgium go over to the euro?” Gordon shot back. What the hell was he going on about? “Your brother’s Web site,” he continued, now obviously drunk as well as stoned. “It was the first one. I’m like, wow, the guy just e-mailed me. He e-mailed me. Hey, did you tell him how many grams we have?”

Thad’s teeth clenched as he glared back at Gordon.

“No, I think we’re gonna get into that later. Just relax.”

And he quickly made a signal to the waiter, who hurried over. Lynn reached for the check, stopping Thad before he could offer to pay. Gordon seemed to find this immensely amusing.

“Wow, you’re competing now. You can always win on that one.”

And that was all Thad could take. He stood, gesturing for the rest of them to do the same. Lynn put a couple of big bills down on top of the check, indicating that she didn’t need to wait for the change. And then they were all heading across the restaurant toward the front door. Lynn suggested that Thad ride with her and Kurt, and that Rebecca and Gordon follow behind in the other car.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Thad responded, liking the idea of separating the couple from Gordon as much as possible. “Um, which room are we in again?”

“We’ll meet you in the lobby,” Rebecca quickly responded.

“We’re going to the Sheraton at I-4, right?” Lynn interjected.

“Yes,” Rebecca said, hitting the door first. Gordon was staggering behind her, but he made it through the open doorway without losing his footing.

“Wait for us in the lobby,” he called back, slurring his words, “if you get there before us.”

Thad nodded, but Gordon and Rebecca were already out of the restaurant and hurrying across the parking lot toward her car. He looked at Lynn, who smiled amiably back. Kurt was already reaching for his car keys; his other hand still gripped the briefcase, which swung heavily by his left thigh as he exited through the open doorway. Somehow, its rhythmic, pendular motion helped quiet the thoughts racing through Thad’s head. Gordon was out of control—but the situation wasn’t. Actually, things seemed to be going very smoothly.

One hundred thousand dollars, one short car ride away
.

As the woman held the door open for Thad, he smiled at her. She smiled back—but in that brief second, he noticed that she was actually glancing past him, at something in the parking lot. He quickly followed her gaze—but it was just another couple of restaurant patrons getting into their own vehicle on the other side of the lot. A man and a woman, actually, dressed pretty formally for a warm Saturday evening. And they both appeared to be in their late thirties or early forties.

Odd—but Thad pushed the thought away. He told himself again, he was just being paranoid. In a few minutes, they would be back at the hotel. And then it would be just him, Rebecca—and a briefcase full of cash. After that—maybe there would be a nice, pretty beach, with plenty of palm trees to go around.

35

Thad was still thinking about that perfect, pretty beach as they pulled into the Sheraton parking lot, Rebecca and Gordon a single car length behind them. Lynn and Kurt had been pretty talkative for most of the short drive over from the restaurant, shifting through a range of topics, from the muggy weather in Orlando to the best beer makers in Belgium—and pretty much everything in between. Thad was starting to really like them, and even found himself wondering if they’d all stay in touch after the deal was completed. He was certain that Gordon would be out of the picture as soon as he got his ten grand, but Thad and Rebecca would one day want to travel to Europe—and it would be nice to have people there to show them around. Kurt could introduce them to his brother, and Thad could finally meet the man behind all those e-mails. He was sure he’d have a lot in common with such a conscientious rock hound. Hell, maybe they’d all end up visiting that pristine beach together, share some laughs about the deal that had brought them together.

But the minute Lynn jammed her foot on the brake, sending the car skidding to a sudden, screeching halt, Thad’s mind went absolutely blank, the imagined beach swallowed in a burst of pure and instant terror. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could find any words, Lynn and Kurt were out of the car—and then there were men racing at him from every direction, shouting and screaming and pointing—

And then Thad saw that the men had guns. Dozens of them, everywhere, all over the parking lot, guns of varying sizes, pistols and automatics and even things that looked like sniper rifles, all of them drawn and aiming right at his face. Bright light exploded everywhere at once, illuminating the entire front of the hotel. Thad gasped, pressing back against the car seat, trying to disappear into the sticky, sweaty vinyl. But then one of the men was grabbing at the car door, and suddenly there were hands all over him, yanking at his shirt and his hair and even his skin. As he was dragged out of the car—above the shouting and the screaming—he could hear the
thump thump thump
of a helicopter up above. The shadow of the thing passed right over him, the fierce wind from the rotors pulling at his hair—and then it was past, out over the highway. And Thad could see, beneath the copter, at least twenty police cars, lights flashing, parked behind barricades and yellow tape. They had closed International Drive; in fact, it looked like they had shut down an entire section of the city.

“On your knees!” screamed a voice next to his ear. “Now!”

It was Kurt, but now Kurt wasn’t talking about idyllic beaches, and he didn’t have a Belgian accent. Now Kurt was aiming a .32-caliber handgun at the back of Thad’s head. And there, just a few yards away, was Lynn, but she wasn’t asking about his adventurous girlfriend or the movie of his life. Now there was a badge affixed to her suit jacket, and she was talking to two men in police uniforms—and they were all looking at Thad, and one of them was smiling, but it wasn’t an amiable smile; it was a mean, arrogant kind of grin.

And Thad knew, with every fiber of his being, that he was fucked.

He felt the tip of a shoe kicking at the back of his legs, and then his knees hit the pavement. A heavy weight pressed against the small of his back, and then he was down flat, his left arm being pulled behind his back. He could hear the clink of handcuffs being readied, and in that brief moment he felt his entire life energy flowing out of him, like a cork had been pulled out of his heel and all of his dreams and accomplishments and beliefs were just running out of him, water from a pierced balloon. And he knew, right then, that this was a perfect time to die. Up until that point, that very second, everything in his life had been so incredible and exciting. He was a NASA scientist with a chance of one day becoming an astronaut. He had a beautiful girlfriend and a beautiful, though separated, wife. He could speak multiple languages and fly airplanes and cliff-dive and swim in the NBL. He had ridden in the Space Shuttle Simulator. He had everything.

And now it was all gone, poof, everything he had ever worked for, everything he had ever achieved. Gone.

He knew immediately what he had to do. He glanced up, and even from that angle he could still see all those guns aiming at his head. Thirty, maybe forty of them, Christ, even though, of course, they knew he was unarmed, he was wearing shorts and a shirt and had just spent the past hour in a restaurant talking about moon rocks and Mars meteors. Forty guns, more than enough to do the job. The handcuffs weren’t locked on yet, he had a second left before it was too late—all he needed to do was roll over and start swinging. Hit one of the cops or the feds or even Kurt in the face, get them to start shooting. Thad wouldn’t even feel a thing.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the commotion across the parking lot—Gordon and Rebecca being dragged down to the pavement just like he was, another dozen or so cops swarming over them like maggots over meat. Gordon was one thing, poor sap had screwed himself by coming down to Florida—but Rebecca … Christ, Rebecca. He could just barely see her tiny form splayed out on the pavement, her wrists being pinned behind her lower back.

Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. Rebecca. He had to help her. He had to make sure she got out of this okay. He had to protect her. And if he died here, in this parking lot, she’d end up in prison, maybe even hating him for the rest of her life. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to live, to make sure she continued to love him. To make sure she stayed safe.

He let the last few drops of his life energy dribble out the bottom of his heel, closed his eyes—and listened for the piercing, metallic crack of the handcuffs clicking tight around his wrists.