The Doomsday Conspiracy (23 page)

Dan Wayne.

"And the other one?"

"He was a Hungarian. He owned a carnival or circus or something like that in Hungary." He remembered.

"It was a carnival."

"Are you sure about that, Mr. Parker?" Page 138

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"Oh, yes. He was telling me some stories about the carnival business. He was certainly excited seeing that UFO. I think if he could have, he would have put it in his carnival as a sideshow. I must admit, it was a pretty awesome sight. I would have reported it, but I can't afford to get mixed up with all the weirdos who claim they saw flying saucers."

"Did he happen to mention his name?"

"Yes, but it was one of these unpronounceable foreign names. I'm afraid I don't remember it."

"Do you remember anything else about him?"

"Only that he was in a hurry to get back to his carnival." He glanced at his watch.

"Is there anything else I can do for you? I'm running a little late."

"No, thank you, Mr. Parker. You've been very helpful."

"My pleasure." He flashed Robert a beautiful smile.

"You must drop by my office and see me sometime. We'll have a nice chat."

"I'll do that."

So it's nearly over, Robert thought. They can take my job and shove it. It's time to pick up the pieces of my life and start over. Robert placed a call to General Hilliard.

"I've just about wrapped it up, General. I found Kevin Parker. He's a lobbyist in Washington, D.C. I'm on my way to check out the last passenger."

"I'm very pleased," General*Hilliard said.

"You've done an excellent job, Commander. Get bak to me as quickly as you can."

"Yes, sir."

FLASH MESSAGE TOP SECRET ULTRA

NSA TO DEPUTY DIRECTOR CIA

EYES ONLY

COPY ONE OF (ONE) COPIES

SUBJECT: OPERATION DOOMSDAY

9. KEVIN PARKER-WASHINGTON, D.C.

END OF MESSAGE

When Kevin Parker arrived at Danny's P Street Station, he found it even more crowded than it had been the evening before. The older men were dressed in conservative suits, while most of the younger men were in Levi's, blazers, and boots. There were a few who looked out of place, in black-leather outfits, and Parker thought that that element was disgusting. Rough trade was dangerous, and he had never gone in for Page 139

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that sort of bizarre behavior. Discretion, that had always been his motto. Discretion. The handsome young boy was not there yet, but Parker had not expected him to be. He would make his entrance later, beautiful and fresh, when the others in the bar would be tired and sweaty. Kevin Parker walked up to the bar, ordered a drink, and looked around. Television sets on the walls were playing the MTV station. Danny's was an S-and-M-stand and model-bar. The younger men would assume poses that made them appear as attractive as possible, while the older men-the buyer-would look them over and make their selections. The S-and-M bars were the classiest. There were never any fights in them, for most of the customers had capped teeth, and they could not afford to chance having them knocked out. Kevin Parker noticed that many of the patrons had already selected their partners. He listened to the familiar conversations going on around him. It fascinated him that the conversations were always the same, whether they took place in leather bars, dance bars, video bars, or underground clubs that changed their locations every week. There was an indigenous argot.

"That queen is nobody. She thinks she's Miss Thing...."

"He went off on me for no reason. He gets so terribly upset. Talk about sensitive "Are you a top or a bottom?"

"A top. I have to give the orders, girl," snapping his fingers.

"Good. I like taking them...."

"He read me for filth. ... Just stood there criticizing me ... my weight, my complexion, my attitude. I said, 'Mary, it's over between us." But it hurt. That's why I'm here tonight... trying to forget him. Could I have another drinks At one A.M., the young boy walked in. He looked around, saw Parker, and walked over to him. The boy was even more beautiful than Parker had remembered.

"Good evening."

"Good evening. Sorry I'm late."

"That's all right. I didn't mind waiting." The young man took out a cigarette and waited while the older man lit it for him.

"I've been thinking about you," Parker said.

"Have you?"

The boy's eyelashes were incredible.

"Yes. Can I buy you a drink?"

"If it will make you happy."

Parker smiled.

"Are you interested in making me happy?" The boy looked him in the eyes and said softly, "I think so."

"I saw the man you were here with last night. He's wrong for you."

"And you're right for me?"

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"I could be. Why don't we find out? Would you like to go for a little walk?"

"Sounds good."

Parker felt a tingle of excitement.

"I know a cozy place where we can be alone."

"Fine. I'll skip the drink."

As they started toward the front door, it suddenly opened and two large young men entered the bar. They stepped in front of the boy, blocking his way.

"There you are, you sonofabitch. Where's the money you owe me?" The young man looked up at him, bewildered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen you be-"

"Don't give me that shit." The man grabbed him by the shoulder and started marching him out to the street. Parker stood there, furious. He was tempted to interfere, but he could not afford to get involved in anything that might turn into a scandal. He stayed where he was, watching the boy disappear into the night.

The second man smiled at Kevin Parker sympathetically.

"You should choose your company more carefully. He's bad news." Parker took a closer look at the speaker. He was blond and attractive, with almost perfect features. Parker had a feeling that the evening might not be a total loss, after all.

"You could be right," he said.

"We never know what fate has in store for us, do we?" He was looking into Parker's eyes.

"No, we don't. My name's Tom. What's your name?"

"Paul."

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink, Paul?"

"Thank you."

"Do you have any special plans for tonight?"

"That's up to you."

"How would you like to spend the night with me?"

"That sounds like fun."

"How much money are we talking about?"

"I like you. For you, two hundred."

"That seems reasonable."

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"It is. You won't be sorry."

Thirty minutes later, Paul was leading Kevin Parker into an old apartment building on Jefferson Street. They walked upstairs to the third floor and entered a small room. Parker looked around.

"It's not much, is it? A hotel would have been nicer." Paul grinned.

"It's more private here. Besides, all we need is the bed."

"You're right. Why don't you get undressed? I want to see what I'm buying."

"Sure." Paul started stripping. He had a great body. Parker watched him, and he felt the old familiar urge beginning to build.

"Now, you get undressed," Paul whispered.

"Hurry, I want you."

"I want you too, Mary." Parker began to take off his clothes.

"What do you like?"

Paul asked.

"Lips or hips?"

"Let's make it a cocktail. Excuse the pun. We've got all night."

"Sure. I'm going into the bathroom," Paul said.

"I'll be right back."

Parker lay on the bed naked, anticipating the exquisite pleasures that were about to happen. He heard his companion come out of the bathroom and approach the bed. He held out his arms.

"Come to me, Paul," he said.

"I'm coming."

And Parker felt a burst of agony as a knife slashed into his chest. His eyes flew open. He looked up, gasping.

"My God, wha~?"

Paul was getting dressed.

"Don't worry about the money," he said.

"It's on the house."

MESSAGE TOP SECRET ULTRA

CIA TO DEPUTY DIRECTOR NSA

EYES ONLY

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COPY ONE OF (ONE) COPIES

SUBJECT: OPERATION DOOMSDAY

9. KEVIN PARKER-WASHINGTON, D.C.-TERMINATED

END OF MESSAGE

Robert Bellamy missed the late news bulletin because he was on a plane to Hungary to find a man who owned a carnival.

Day Fourteen Budapest

The flight from Paris to Budapest on Malev Airlines took two hours and five minutes. Robert knew very little about Hungary except that during World War II, it had been a partner in the Axis, and had later become a Russian satellite. Robert took the airport bus to the center of Budapest, impressed by what he saw. The buildings were old and the architecture classic. Parliament House on the Rudolph Quay was a huge, NeoGothic structure that dominated the city, and high above the city on Castle Hill was the Royal Palace. The streets were crowded with automobiles and shoppers.

The bus stopped in front of the Hotel Duna Intercontinental. Robert walked into the lobby and approached the concierge.

"Excuse me," Robert said, "do you speak English?"

"Igan. Yes. What may I do for you?"

"A friend of mine was in Budapest a few days ago, and he told me he saw a wonderful carnival. I thought as long as I was in town, I might take a look at it. Can you tell me where I might find it?" The concierge frowned.

"Carnival?"

He pulled out a sheet of paper and scanned it.

"Let's see. In Budapest at the present time, we have an opera, several theater productions, ballet, night and day tours of the city, excursions in the country.. ." He looked up.

"I'm sorry. There are no carnivals."

"Are you sure?"

The concierge handed the list to Robert.

"See for yourself." It was written in Hungarian. Robert handed it back.

"Right. Is there anyone else I might talk to about this?" The concierge said, "The Ministry of Culture might be able to help you." Thirty minutes later, Robert was speaking to a clerk in the office of the Culture Ministry.

"There is no carnival in Budapest. Are you sure your friend saw it in Hungary?"

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"Yes."

"But he did not say where?"

"No."

"I am sorry. I cannot help you." The clerk was impatient.

"If there is nothing else-' "No." Robert rose to his feet.

"Thank you." He hesitated.

"I do have one more question. If I wanted to bring a circus or a carnival into Hungary, would I have to get a permit?"

"Certainly."

"Where would I go for that?"

"To the Budapest Administration of Licenses." The licenses building was located in Buda mplete medieval city wall. Robert waited for thirty minutes before he was ushered into the office of a formal, pompous official.

"Can I help you?"

Robert smiled.

"I hope so. I hate to take up your time with something as trivial as this, but I'm here with my young son, and he heard about a carnival playing somewhere in Hungary, and I promised to take him to see it. You know how kids are when they get an idea in their heads." The official stared at Robert, puzzled.

"What is it you wanted to see me about?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, no one seems to know where the carnival is, and Hungary is such a big and beautiful country-well, I was told that if anyone knew what was going on in Hungary, it would be you." The official nodded.

"Yes. Nothing like that is permitted to open without being issued a license." He pressed the buzzer, and a secretary came in. There was a rapid exchange in Hungarian. The secretary left and came back two minutes later with some papers. She handed them to the official. He looked at them and said to Robert, "In the past three months, we have issued two permits for carnivals. One closed a month ago."

"And the other?"

"The other is currently playing in Sopron. A little town near the German frontier."

"Do you have the owner's name?"

The official consulted the paper again.

"Bushfekete. Laslo Bushfekete."

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* Laslo Bushfekete was having one of the best days of his life. Few people are lucky enough to spend their lives doing exactly what they want to do, and Laslo Bushfekete was one of those fortunate few. At six foot four and three hundred pounds, Bushfekete was a big man. He sported a diamond wristwatch, diamond rings, and a large gold bracelet. His father had owned a small carnival, and when he died, the son had taken it over. It was the only life he had ever known. Laslo Bushfekete had grandiose dreams. He intended to expand his little carnival into the biggest and best in Europe. He wanted to be known as the P. T. Barnum of carnivals. At the moment, however, he could only afford the usual sideshow attractions: the Fat Lady and the Tattooed Man, the Siamese Twins and the Thousand-Year-Old Mummy, "dug up from the bowels of tombs in ancient Egypt." Theri there was the Sword Swallower and the Flame Eater, and the cute little Snake Charmer, Marika. But in the end, all they really added up to was just another traveling carnival.

Now, overnight, all that was going to change. Laslo Bushfekete's dream was about to come true.

He had gone to Switzerland to audition an escape artist he had heard about. The piece de resistance of the act was a routine where the performer was blindfolded, handcuffed, locked in a small trunk, then locked in a larger trunk, and finally lowered into a tank of water. It had sounded fantastic over the telephone, but when Bushfekete flew to Switzerland to see it, he found that there was one insurmountable problem: It took the escape artist thirty minutes to escape. No audience in the world was going to stay around staring at a trunk in a tank of water for thirty minutes. It had looked as though the trip had been a complete waste of time. Laslo Bushfekete had decided to take a tour to kill the day until it was time to catch his plane. As it turned out, that ride changed his life.