Loren
Pitt downed the beer and returned to the hangar floor. Something was gnawing at him about the Heiland case, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Replaying the recent events had failed to spark a clue, so he slipped on a worn mechanic’s jumpsuit and made his way over to the old Packard. With a careful devotion, he began disassembling its updraft carburetor. By the time he had the mechanism overhauled an hour or so later, he knew exactly what was troubling him.
27
I GUESS IT WAS A GOOD CALL, ENLISTING PITT ON THE case,” Fowler said as he drove away from the airport.
“He’s quite a resourceful man.” Ann stared out the window and considered her impressions of Pitt. “He saved my life twice.”
“He evidently has quite a track record for averting disaster,” Fowler said. “I’m sure he can be trusted, but, just for the record, did he become aware of Heiland’s work and its capabilities?”
“He has the basic idea, but he didn’t press for more. He seemed primarily concerned about the safety of his ship and crew.” Ann reached down and rubbed her ankle. “We really should have told him all the facts in the beginning.”
“Couldn’t be helped. Tom Cerny was firm that discussion of the technology was off-limits. I think we were all surprised by the tenacity of those chasing after it.”
Fowler cleared the gates of the airport and stopped at a red light. “You live in Alexandria, right?”
“Yes, I’m near Old Town, right off King Street. Just take the Jefferson Davis Highway into town.”
Fowler nodded and turned south.
“Any updates from the FBI while we were in the air?” Ann asked.
“Nothing yet. It will probably be several days before we learn anything from the Mexican agencies. And you probably know more than me about the two guys in black from Idaho.”
“They were Latin in appearance. If they are in fact connected to the men in Tijuana, I suspect they may be operatives from Central or South America.”
“Venezuelan rogues?”
“Possibly. There is certainly no shortage of world powers that would like to use that technology. China or Russia probably head the list. Maybe they’ve got a surrogate working for them.”
“Don’t forget the Iranians.” Fowler gunned the car to clear a yellow light. He turned onto King Street, a main drag that bisected Alexandria.
“The attackers were pretty brazen,” Ann said, “and well informed.”
“Yes, it sounds like they were fearless.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Ann asked.
“What’s that?” Fowler said, turning down a side street.
“Inside help. There must be a security leak, possibly at a high level.”
“Possibly, but you know how much classified information winds up in the press. It may not have been that difficult for someone to figure out that Heiland was working on something important. Since he wasn’t working in a secure environment, he made an easy target.”
“You may be right.” Ann pointed down the street. “I’m up ahead on the right, just past the big oak.”
Fowler spotted an empty space at the curb and pulled in behind a car that was idling with its lights off. Ann recognized it as a Chrysler 300 sedan.
“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow?” Fowler said. “You’ve been through the wringer the last forty-eight hours. You could probably use some rest.”
“Thanks, but I’d go crazy just sitting around. I need to find out who these people are.”
Fowler turned off the car’s engine, and Ann climbed out. As she turned to retrieve her crutches, she was grabbed from behind. She just caught a glimpse of her assailant, a tall black male, who wrapped his hands around her and hurled her onto a small patch of lawn. The heavy man was on her instantly, jamming his knee into the small of her back while mashing her face into the grass with a plate-sized hand. She struggled to break free, then relented when she felt a gun barrel press against her temple.
“Don’t even breathe,” the big man said.
She heard Fowler cry out, followed by the dull thumping of a body being pummeled. A few seconds later, car keys jingled, and the Ford’s trunk was popped open. From the corner of her eye, Ann saw a second man carry something to the backseat of the Chrysler, then jump into the driver’s seat. The thug on her back leaned down and whispered into her face with foul breath. “Now, you lay nice and still for five minutes or else old Clarence will have to come back and hurt you.”