“I see you have lost 18 pounds. How are you feeling?” Jake asked.
“Hell of a diet you have there, Doc,” I croaked.
“Well, the voice is a little better, and you are getting even feistier, if that is possible.”
“I’m sick of soft eggs, Jell-O pudding, and all kinds of soup. I still like ice cream though.” Even the small amount of talking I had done since entering Jake’s clinic severely strained my voice.
“I’m sure you have been experimenting with other foods. You don’t strike me as the type to follow orders all that well.”
“Fresh bread, with peanut butter and jelly is about as solid a food as I’ve managed to get down. Even then, I have to remove the crust”
“Give it time, Max, your esophagus needs to heal. Once the inflammation and swelling go away, it will be as good as new.”
“I don’t want to hear any jokes about a new profession giving blowjobs,” I said, with a smile. It always made doctors feel better if the patient could smile. I have no idea what that said about modern medicine, but it was true.
“Max, I know you had some emotional trauma as well as physical trauma, have you been seeing anyone?”
“Hell no, I’m in no condition to date yet. I sound like a frog and I’m not sure I could manage a blowjob just yet, although semen is probably on the soft food list.”
“I meant like a therapist,” Jake replied, without any indication that he had a sense of humor at all.
“Break out that bottle of Jack Daniels you keep in your desk, and I’ll talk to you. It would probably do as much good.”
Jake buried his head in my file for a few more minutes, then began to read off facts as if I didn’t know them. “5ft 5inches, 127pounds, that’s just about perfect for your body mass.”
“Then why do I still have the belly dancer’s pot?” I asked.
“Max, you are over forty, that small belly comes with the territory. You are lucky that there isn’t forty more pounds in your rear.”
“I know, I used to eat all the wrong things and drink beer. God, those were the days,” I said wistfully.
“That’s about as bad as it gets. Switch to black coffee and rice cakes to keep your weight down.”
“I don’t think I can do rice cakes right now,” I replied, in my raspy voice.
“Yeah, but it won’t be long.”
“When is the voice going to get back to normal?”
“Your voice should get some better soon.”
“Some better? You mean I’m never going to sing opera again.”
“I didn’t know you sang opera?” he said, thoughtfully.
“I don’t, but I always hoped I would someday.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you kept your sense of humor.” He looked at the stack of papers again, then added; “Tell you what, Max, go by Krispy Kreme and get one donut on the way home. You can even get one of those fancy coffees with a lot of milk. Let the coffee cool down before you drink it. Eat it all slowly and in small bites. See how that goes down.”
“So do I have to go see that eye, ear, nose, and throat quack again.”
“Come on, Max, Dr. Edwards did a hell of a job repairing your esophagus.”
“Yeah, all I had to do was let him continue the throat fucking I got from Pedro.”
“A small tube with a couple of drops of super glue is not the same as what that asshole did to you.”
“Yeah, but I still didn’t like the flashlight he stuck down my throat.”
“At least, it wasn’t a lantern,” Jake said, finally smiling. “Get out of here and make an appointment for a month from now. If the voice doesn’t get better, go back and see Edwards.”
I had been out of the hospital two weeks and back to work for a week. I felt like crap on the soft food diet. I wanted red meat, but they wouldn’t let me shove it down my throat yet. It wasn’t like I wanted to swallow an Italian sausage without chewing. I just wanted a McDonald’s hamburger. I had no reserve energy at all. It was a good thing I was a process server, not an athlete.
I was ready to open the door on the minivan when my cell phone started playing that stupid song it always played for incoming calls. The song was so annoying that I just had to answer the phone quickly to shut it up. “At your service, Stone,” I got it out without sounding too much like a cancer survivor.
“Max, it’s Franklin Wilson’s office calling, could you stop by the office this afternoon.”
“Shirley, why are you being so formal? Of course, I’ll swing by.”
“They are recording our calls for some reason.”
“Probably to be sure you aren’t using the office phone for you phone sex business.”
“I only use the cell phone for that,” she said, with a hardy laugh.
“Can you give me a hint what Frankie wants with me.”
“Some papers to serve, I think.”
“Okay Shirley, I’m leaving the doctor’s office. I can come by in about twenty minutes, is that okay?”
“Boss won’t be here, but I expect that I can give you the information. If it isn’t alright, I’ll call you back,”
“Fair enough, I’m off to have a Krispy Kreme donut.”
“God, get the new triple dark chocolate, it is to die for,” Shirley suggested.
I had the triple dark chocolate filled donut, with a chocolate frosty. Might as well OD on chocolate, I thought. It was wonderful, as I knew it would be. I never met a donut I didn’t like. As for chocolate, there should be no need to explain how chocolate affects women.
“Here you go,” Shirley said, as she handed me the thick Manila envelope.
“It’s a good thing I don’t charge by the pound,” I suggested.
“This one isn’t a court order. It’s some kind of corporate filing, something to do with product liability.”
“You are kidding, they don’t make anything around here.” It was common knowledge that all manufacturing was done in third world countries, or in China or Russia.
“That’s what I thought as well, but we did a product liability research on some kind of new battery technology.” Shirley stopped while I watched her mind working. “I did not tell you that. This is all hush, hush.”
“Who me, I have no idea what it is I’m lugging around today.” I smiled as I accepted my check for fifty dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was my fee for the local delivery of documents for lawyers.
I drove with the envelope on the passenger seat of the van. The GPS unit kept me on track even though I would have known the way even without the directions. It could have just said, deliver to the old recapping plant on Battleground Avenue. There were so few industrial buildings left in Astor that everyone knew exactly where each was located. Not so much from there use at that time, but from back in the day when we still made things there.
After all the twists and turns, that’s where I found myself. When I knocked on the office door, a buzzer sounded after which the door opened to my push. I found myself in a waiting room with enough room for about four people. After a minute or two, a tall thin man entered.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I hope so, I’m looking for the owner or manger of Simple Energy.” I said evenly.
“I’m Jed Hyatt, I’m the plant manager. I’m also a partner.”
“I have some documents from Franklin Wilson’s office, can you sign for them?”
“Let me get Edward,” he suggested. Jed disappeared into what seemed to be the small office section of the building. A few minutes later, a second man came through the inside door.
“I’ll take that,” he said, reaching for the envelope.
Instead I handed him my dollar store clipboard. “Sign on the line with the X please.” I was very insistent. Once he signed, I handed over the stack of papers. “So what are you guys going to make here?” I asked.
“It’s not ready to discuss yet,” he said flatly. Obviously he had his mind made up, so I just nodded, then turned back to the van. Once outside, I got just a little curious, so I took a couple of pictures of the building and the trucks parked around it. I half expected Edward to rush out and try to take my camera. Instead nothing happened. Maybe I had been hoping that he would. Since it was anti-climatic, I just left.
Taking the shots of the startup factory bothered me. I just couldn’t figure out what I was thinking. I gained nothing from it, and I had risked a confrontation that could have led to a damaged relationship with a client. It was a no-win situation. All I could figure was that I was just plain bored. I was obviously just out looking for some shit to get into. I promised myself that I would think more before acting. I knew, even as I made it, that it was a hollow promise.
On the drive back to the office, I realized that I truly was bored. I also realized that being bored was worse, for me at least, than being terrified. I needed to find something interesting to do. In a town the size of Aster, or even the larger Tryon next door, there just weren’t that many things a middle-aged woman could get into.
Nothing came into the office for me to be involved with that afternoon, so I watched TV shows on my computer. It was a habit I picked up while avoiding some rather nasty characters from south of the border. Since that was behind me, I watched at my desk in Ed’s office, but it was still a good way to pass the time.
“At your service, Stone,” I said into the cell phone.
“Max, what the hell were you doing out there?” Franklin Wilson asked.
“I delivered your papers and got a signature the same as always,” I replied. I was waiting for the other shoe, since I expected the call was about the photos I shot. It seemed to have been some kind of hush, hush project.
“My clients are a little paranoid and when you went out and began shooting pictures of their plant, they we got really nervous.”
“I don’t know what got into me. I guess it was something to do with a new industry coming to town. I was curious I guess.”
“What you did wasn’t illegal or unethical even. I guess it was just ill advised.”
“Well. I’ll try to think a little longer next time before I do anything more than deliver the papers.” It was like the fancy dress I carried around in my van, just part of the show now and then. Being contrite was the same, just part of the show. Franklin probably knew it wasn’t real.
I went home after work. I had been staying with my friend Jen and her husband, so I was extremely glad to be going to my own home after work. I stopped by one of those super grocery stores on the way home for a pre-made pasta salad. They make it fresh, so it wasn’t too awful. The store’s take out window was on my way home. If I called ahead from the office, even the pizza, which I could no longer eat, would have been waiting by the time I got to the store. The pasta salad was a walk in item, so I parked.
Later that night, I debated going to the Cop Out for a drink, but decided that I wasn’t ready for that crowd just yet. So instead, I watched television on the television for a change. I had a satellite subscription TV service. It was the smallest plan and was useless. I threatened to cancel every time I wrote the check.
I got bored with TV about ten. I got bored with TV even earlier most nights. So being bored, I began to research Simple Energy and the men who owned it. I found that a lot had changed in the state since I was in high school.
For one thing, the state ran a think tank at the State Capitol Center. The State Capitol Center was an industrial park developed to nurture new ideas. It was a place with low rents and lower taxes for startup companies. Simple Energy had been one of those. Jed Hyatt and Edward Doser were engineering students at the State’s University, specializing in such things. They had an idea and spent their last two years consumed with it.
The state had made their educations possible, so when graduation came, they accepted even more grant money to work on the state’s project. The problem came when the idea behind Simple Energy came to fruition. The state wanted to turn it over to someone like GE to manufacture, but Ed and Jed wanted to be the new Bill Gates. Ed and Jed moved to Aster and began assembling their plant.
Now a lot of this was reading between the lines, but I’m pretty good at reading between the lines. The part that was even more supposition was exactly what Simple Energy was and how it was made. Since the state owned a chunk of the process, some of it was in the patent office records. Some of it was to be found in the trade rags, if you knew where to look. I was also pretty good at media research.
Simple Energy was a radically new way to store electrical energy. The storage battery, as we know it, does not store energy, it manufactures it using a chemical process. Charging a battery reverses the effects of creating electricity so that the materials can make more electricity. Okay, that’s the storage batteries for dummies explanation.
The scientific rags stated flatly that the Simple Energy process was something radically new. Not the device really, but all the things that made the device work. They were radically new because they were simple to manufacture and almost never wore out. Best of all, they did not require cheap labor to create or assemble.
In the words of the simplest explanation, the simple energy device is nothing more than a giant storage capacitor. Think of it like the tank on your car, only this tank you fill with cheap electricity. There is a gate at the opening of the capacitor which can be opened in degrees. A throttle if you will. If you have an electronic device the gate is set to allow a steady stream of amps to pass through so that the device is always at the same operating level.
However if the device is on an electric motor, the gate can be varied to allow for different levels of power and speed. The storage device is the motor controller so that component of your machine is unnecessary. All that is fine and isn’t really all that new. What was really new was that the storage device was made completely of paper. The unit was made from thousands of paper plates sandwiched together.
The plates were printed on a simple printing press. The genius was in the ink formula and the construction of the finished stack of plates. One man could run all the machines to make the plates from his climate controlled office. Add a dozen more to haul the chemicals around and mix them and you had the complete work force to make millions and millions of dollars worth of Simple Energy Super Capacitors. After I pieced all the pieces in place, I knew why they were so anal about the pictures I shot.
There had not been a lot of financing required for Ted’s and Ed’s great adventure; but what had been needed was supplied by family members of the two boy geniuses. It was a tight, beautiful, business plan, everyone said. The state’s share of the business was on a buy back since it was a secured loan, not a real ownership share.
Aster had been chosen for several reasons, not the least of which was that Edward’s family had connections to the town. His grandparents still lived in Aster’s farm community. His grandfather still sold vegetables at the farmer’s market on Wednesday. During the winter, his wife sold fresh bread, so they could always be found in the parking lot of the community center on Wednesday mornings. I expected that it had become their social event of the week, or at least one of them.
When Edward had the chance to sell out to the Chinese, he decided to build his own plant instead. So Aster had a chance to become the new Mecca for portable electronics. That was at least the hope of the locals. If the power source worked as predicted, then all kinds of plants would pop up near it, or so the popular thinking went. I suppose with all that at stake, there was reason for the geeks to be concerned.
I did all the research to satisfy my curiosity. Yes, I would have bought stock in the company had there been any available. I own stock in several local area companies. I’m no big investor, but I like to own a little stock in the businesses I do business with.
For a few months, I pretty much forgot about the two geeks living across town. My main interest was in trying to get my voice back to normal, not to mention return to my normal diet. Even after the months passed, I still sounded like Glynis Johns on a bad microphone. Okay, for those of you who are younger than me even, Glynis was an actress who had a very raspy voice. On her it was sexy; on me it was Kermit the frog with a frog in his throat. I couldn’t do the bass voice necessary to make that croaking sound sexy.
By that time, I was eating almost anything I wanted though. I just tried not to want anything with sharp edges. I could have done well chewed things like hamburger after the first couple of weeks. It was things that had sharp edges like hard breads and the like that scared the hell out of me.
When I got word from the ENT man that my voice would only get a little better, I resigned myself to never singing opera, but I might be able to do gospel. Since I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it, I didn’t really mind the singing thing. It was the volume, or lack thereof, that pissed me off. My voice was practically a whisper and everyone thought that it must hurt me to have a conversation. It did indeed cause me pain, but it was emotional pain, not physical.
I was still pretty upset about the lack of a good screaming voice, when I got the call from Frank Wilson. Usually it is Shirley, his assistant, who calls. That morning, Frank himself was on the line. “Max, I’m calling about the owners of Smart Energy again.”
“Good God, Frank, I haven’t been back out there since and I haven’t done anything with the images I shot out there. What the hell is their problem now?”
“I explained about who you where and that they had nothing to worry about, so that is not the issue here. After I told them about you, they did some research themselves. Seems there is a lot of information about you on the net.”
“Franklin, there is a lot of information about everyone on the net.”
“Yeah, well anyway, they want to hire you to do a security checkup.”
“A what?”
“I know it’s pretty stupid but they want to know how vulnerable they are.”
“Frankly, have them call Wackenhut, or somebody. I don’t know anything at all about building security.”
“Okay, Max, but would you have lunch with them.”
“You are kidding?’
“Max, it’s a free meal and I’ll have them pay you for a delivery, so it won’t be a loss.”
“When and where?” I asked, with a sigh.
“I’ll get back with you,” he replied, then hung up.
It was almost noon when Franklin Wilson called again. “Come on down to the Banker’s Club. We will be there waiting.”
“What the hell are two punk kids and you doing at the Banker’s Club?” I asked. “I thought you had to have been a millionaire before the First World War to be a member of that club.”
“No, Max, you just have to be worth more than 99% of the other people in town.”
“So, which one of you is worth that much?”
“Not me, their membership is based on the value of their contribution to the community. In other words, the existing members plan to get a lot richer, when all the other industries move into the industrial park. That is the park they are going to build for the Simple Energy spinoffs.”
“Ah well, I suppose I need to dress for the event?”
“Well, you will never get in wearing jeans, or with your boobs hanging out.” Franklin informed me.
“Can’t we just meet at McDonalds?” I asked.
“Come on, Max, it’s your chance to have lunch at the Banker’s,”
“Big fuckin’ deal,” I replied. Okay secretly, I admitted to myself that it was indeed a big deal. The dress and shoes I had in the car were not those of a Banker, but they might be those of a banker’s hooker. Since I was not going to spend a month’s income on a power suit, it was the Banker’s hooker for me.
I was more than a little uncomfortable in the skimpy dress and high heels. I hoped no one noticed, but of course they did. At least it felt as though everyone was staring at me, and not staring in a good way. I had been careful to be at least twenty minutes late so that I wouldn’t have to wait for the others.
“There you are, we were beginning to worry,” Franklin said. “Ted and Ed, you remember, Max?” They both stood then nodded that they indeed did.
The waiter seated me, then left me at the table. Since there were silverware, a plate, and a glass of ice tea, I assumed the three of them had placed at least part of our dinner order.
There was some small talk first; it was supposed to set me at ease. It was also meant to impress me with the fact that they had done their homework. They let me know that they felt I was someone they could trust. They seemed to trust me even though at 5’6″ and 125 pounds, I was not an imposing figure. Some of those 20 pounds I had lost were in muscle mass. In other words, I might be down to my proper body weight, but I was about twenty pounds below my fighting weight. Even so they seemed to trust me.
Ed started the real conversation over some clam and pasta dish. I know it was supposed to be a big deal to eat at the Banker’s club, but I would have traded the experience for a double cheeseburger from McDonalds. If it had been the charred T-bone, which required a special oversized plate, I might have felt different, but the pasta and clams just didn’t impress me. My guess is the fancy pasta was for me, since they most likely knew I was supposed to stay away from really hot or tough food. Probably thought I would be afraid to try the T-bone. They had a lot to learn.
“So tell me, if you wanted to steal our work, how would you do it?”
“I really haven’t given it any thought, but it wouldn’t be hard.”
“If it wouldn’t be hard, how would you do it?” Ted added.
“First of all, you are living in a very dangerous world. A world filled with really bad guys who can get some really good things from some really bad governments.”
“I know that means something, but I don’t have a clue what it is,” Ed suggested.
“Just one quick scenario. I grab you and hold you for ransom. The drop is for the formula and all the required information to make it work. I find a geek to tell me if what you give me is real and I make the payoff quick enough so that you can’t fake anything. After I have it, I kill you.”
“How do you plan to get away with that?”
“I hadn’t planned anything, remember. Off the top of my head I would have gone to the Chinese or the Israelis in advance. I would give them the formula; they would give me a few million dollars US, and drop my ass in the middle of nowhere. You they would drop in a hole somewhere.”
Franklin was impressed. Ed and Ted looked over their shoulder. They would never feel completely safe again. “Holy shit, you are one cold bitch,” Ted suggested.
“Hey, you asked me? Ignorance is not bliss if it gets you killed. If I were you I’d give Blackwater, or whatever they are calling themselves these days, a call.”
“Are you armed?” Franklin asked.
“Do you have a hundred dollar bill on you?” I asked, in return. He nodded. “That’s your answer a good workman never leaves his tools at home.” I finished my chocolate mousse then said, “Gentlemen, it has been a real experience, but I have work to do.” I didn’t really, but I was bored.
“Max, would you be interested in setting up a security force for us?” Ed asked.
“Not in the least, call Blackwater.”
“Then how about hanging out with us till we get a security operation in place?”
“No thanks, I really have all the things on my plate I can handle right now.” I didn’t have near enough to do, but I didn’t want to work for anyone else either.
“Please, Maxine we have a meeting with GE on Wednesday in New York. How about you come along as our bodyguard?” Ed asked that.
“If you come along they will just think we are studs, not paranoid.” Ted said that with a sarcastic look at Ed.
“Oh hell I always wanted to be a groupie for nerds,” I said smiling. “Five hundred a day and I drive us up there and back.”
“I’m not sure about that?” Ed suggested.
“Those are my requirements, take it or leave it.”
“Well, I think we need the protection, so I say take it.” Ted demanded.
“Alright, I guess we drive to New York.”
“Have the GE rep call me,” I handed Ed my card. “Well, if that is all, Gentlemen, I’ll be going now.” I was standing when I said, “Tuesday morning at 7 AM, we leave your plant. Be ready.”
“Hey you work for us,” Ed said, still trying to take control.
“Ed, Tuesday morning at 7AM. I am leaving the parking lot of your plant. I will be headed for New York with you in tow, or I will be headed home. I could care less which.” I did smile sweetly. If I was going to be responsible for their lives, they were not going to make it impossible for me to keep them alive.
During the time running up till Tuesday morning, I had contact with Ted, Ed, and Lois Mathews from GE. Lois gave me the hotel name and made the reservations for us. It was her opinion that I was Ted’s and Ed’s den mother or social secretary. I didn’t give a damn what she thought. Actually, she was kind of sweet, so I looked forward to meeting her.
Ted called on Monday. I reserved a large Ford van for the trip. I made sure it has everything. I thought that just maybe Ed won’t be a pain in the ass all the way to New York if he has enough toys. I hope you don’t mind driving the larger van.”
“Well, the biggest thing I have driven up till now was an eighteen wheeler, with a second trailer tagging behind. I think I can manage the custom van.” I took a breath while I waited to see if he would make any comment. When he didn’t, I went on.” I’ll pick it up tonight.”
“Hertz at the airport has it ready anytime,” Ted informed me. “You don’t really think we are in any danger do you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. From what Franklin tells me, your little invention is going to make some serious players very nervous. What they will do is anyone’s guess. Then there are the political implications. A lot of countries have the world oil economy as their only political card. Without that, they are going to be eating sand.”
“Well, let’s hope it isn’t that much of a threat to the status quo,” Ted’s voice said, through the phone.
“Well, if you are having buyer’s remorse, I can still stay home. I’m sure you can still get flight reservations.”
“Hell no, I’m looking forward to the company and Ed is still paranoid.”
“Well, I think you need to have a press conference to make it clear to everyone that if you are killed, the project goes on just with different people getting the profits. Some public trust of some kind would make you bulletproof from the people wanting to bury the technology. You still have plenty to worry about, but at least that political sword would be blunted. They are the most dangerous. A guy who wants the formula for himself isn’t likely to put a bomb under your car.
I cleaned up my house before I picked up the van. The van I picked up from Ryder Truck Rental was a fucking yacht on wheels. The damn thing had every toy imaginable. The Ted’s and Ed’s excellent adventure was going to be arriving in style. From my point of view, the blacked out windows were the best feature. Well, of course, the 360 degree TV camera was a good thing, as well. I could only imagine where the van came from. It surely wasn’t used often in either Tryon or Aster.
I packed the legal Mossberg riot shotgun, the Glock 10 mm, and wore the .38 concealed hammer wheel gun. All in all, I had quite a bit of fire power there. I also tossed in a cardboard box of non-lethal weapons. Everything from tasers to pepper gas bombs went into the box, which found its way into the rear of the van. The smallest item in the van when I pulled into the old recapping yard, was the bag containing my clothes. I had packed only a good pair of slacks and a nice sweater for the meeting, and a clean blouse for the drive home. There were spare panties and a bra stuffed into a side pocket on the bag.
I could have learned a lot from the number of bags the two men brought. Ted, the more dirty hands type of the geeks, had a half duffel bag packed pretty tight. He might have enough clothes, but they were all going to be wrinkled. Ed on the other hand brought one hanging bag and a small soft side suitcase. He was going to be the fashion whore of the crowd.
We were quite the crew that morning. Me in my faded Levis and over sized sweater, Ted in his tight jeans and wrinkled cowboy work shirt, and of course, Ed in his European designer jeans and fancy Italian sweater. Ed wanted to not look pretentious but he failed miserably.
I wore driving sunglasses that were not fashionable but were at least Polaroid, while Ted wore thick sunglasses, which no doubt doubled as shatterproof lenses, and Ed wore something from the designer shop in the Tryon Mall, no doubt.
Each of us brought a laptop computer and cell phone. Their cell phones did everything, no doubt, while mine made and received phone calls. My laptop had nothing of value on it, while theirs no doubt held state secrets. Well, at least Ed’s would have secrets; Ted’s probably had some game with a thousand levels.
At 7:15 AM we left the parking lot behind. I threaded my way through the city streets until I reached the federally sponsored highway. The six lane road was located a few miles from Aster. Once on the wide ribbon of pavement, I pointed the van more or less north. I settled into what I hoped would be a boring ten to twelve hour drive.
Since I planned to be at the fancy hotel in Flushing, New York, by bedtime, the Ted and Ed show should be in good shape for the after lunch meetings on Wednesday. That is assuming everything went as planned. I was less worried about the drive than any other part of the trip. I was armed to the teeth and driving a civilian version of the Bradley fighting vehicle.
For the next twelve hours, I drove while my charges worked or played with their toys. They spoke now and then, more to each other than to me, with the exception of Ed’s comments to me. Those were not to be confused with conversation. “Hey, what are we going to do for lunch?”
“I’m going to stop for gas soon, we can pull into a fast food joint for lunch.”
“Oh come on, Max, I know you aren’t used to nice things, but force yourself this once,” Ed suggested.
“Ed, it is much harder to grab someone from a busy Mickey D’s dining room, than the quiet hallway of a fancy restaurant while you head off to pee. How about we play the odds for a couple of days and save the posturing for someone who cares?” Ted giggled like a schoolgirl.
That’s pretty much how the drive went, Ed bitching, me explaining, and Ted giggling. At one of the gas stops, we bought a cooler and filled it with Cokes. I allowed it, even though it meant random pee breaks.
Even the bypasses around major cities were a nightmare. Somehow, we managed to pull through the check in area of the Flushing, New York, Hilton just before 10 PM. I had put my foot down on the accelerator and on the number and length of stops. By driving with a purpose, as they called it in the Air Force, we had made good time. Check in was simple, since GE had made all the arrangements.
The suite was exactly what I had demanded. There was a sitting room and kitchenette with a bedroom for each of the boys on either side. I planned to do my napping on the sofa in the entrance room. I made coffee while they prepared for bed.
“So where are you going to sleep?” Ted asked.
“I won’t be sleeping, but I will be out here in the main room. Unless they have a helicopter, any threat will come through those doors. If it comes through those doors, it is going to come through me.”
“I can make you a better offer,” Ted suggested.
“I’m sure you can and I might take you up on it some other time. You know the old thing about work and play?” I asked.
“You mean don’t screw the boss?” he suggested.
“Never shit where you eat,” I corrected.
“God, you are crude,” Ed said, from behind me.
“Yeah, my mom would not be happy with me these days.” I smiled. “Now you two need your sleep. You have to go out and make the world safe for big business tomorrow.”
“You make the world safe; we will just try to cut back on some of the rape of resources.”
“Sounds fair,” I suggested.
I rigged my burglar alarm first thing. If you plan to stay awake and watch the door, all you need is something to get your attention in case it wanders. In my case, it was a half dozen kitty bells tied to a thin wire, which was rigged to either hang from the door knob, or from a thumb tack in the door. It all depended on what the door hardware looked like. In the case of the Hilton, it was a thumbtack. The door handle was a lever not a knob.
I watched TV on the computer, I read on the computer, and I drank gallons of coffee warmed in the microwave. When you have a good plan, things almost always go well. When you don’t have a plan is when they go all to hell. The night passed quietly. Partly because I had a plan, and partly because a snatch is best done without a swat type assault in a public place. In other words the worst was yet to come, if it came at all.
The ‘boys, ‘ as I thought of them, slept until 9AM. I could hardly wait to turn them over to the GE security people, so that I could get some real sleep. Before the GE security chief came, we went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. I had to admit the restaurant was far superior to the breakfast I usually had. The eggs were cooked right at the table, so they were as fresh as if I had made them myself, plus they tasted a whole lot better.
Back in the room, I received the call. “Ms. Stone, this is Rachel at GE. Our Mr. Roberts will be there in about half an hour. He will escort your party to our convention center.” Something about the call set off bells in my head.
“Why isn’t Lois calling? I asked.
“Lois, is in the plant. We had an incident last night. That’s why the change in plans.”
“What kind of incident?” I asked.
“That isn’t relevant,” she said, in a tone that wasn’t quite right either.
“Young lady, everything is relevant to me. Now either tell me what this incident was or I’m taking my party to the nearest police station and you can pick them up there.”
“Someone broke into the production office at the plant and went through the files. Nothing was taken, but we are assuming that copies were made. Rachael is out there inventorying the files to see what if anything is missing.”
“Alright, so as a precaution you are moving the meeting to the convention center?”
“Yes, our convention center is free standing and very secure.” She sounded just a little too rehearsed for my liking. Ted thought that Ed was paranoid. I was about to show him paranoid. I agreed to everything, then hung up the phone.
“Get your asses ready to go this minute. Do not waste one fucking second,” I almost shouted.
“What the fuck?” Ted asked. There was urgency in his voice.
“If Ed is right to be paranoid, they are in the hotel. We need to make it very difficult for them to find us for the next twenty minutes.”
I picked up the phone. “Room Service. I would like a pot of fresh coffee and a tray of Danish. I would like it right away.” Then I called the desk. “Could you have a maid come up, I have spilled something in my bed and need it changed immediately.”
I picked up the phone and then dialed an outside line. I dialed the number I had for the GE contact I had. “Lois Snow,” the voice came from the phone. “Lois someone just called to tell me a Mr. Roberts was on the way to collect my party. I am assuming that wasn’t you.”
“No it wasn’t. Should I call the police?”
“And an ambulance,” I suggested, dropping the phone. “You two get in the bathroom. You can get in the tubs, but I’d bet they are fiberglass and useless.” There was a knock on the door. “Do it now,” I whispered.
I was willing to bet all our lives, that the bad guys still believed their con was going to work. I just didn’t believe that the bad guys were planning a full assault on the Hilton. I looked out to see the man in a well cut suit. It wasn’t too expensive looking, nor did it look too much like a cheap gangster suit.
Timing was going to be everything. “You must be Roberts?” I asked, as I opened the door.
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Would you mind showing me some ID?” I smiled to convince him it was just a formality. It wasn’t, it was a stall. I already knew the ID was fake. He was about to reach under his coat to bring out either his ID or a pistol when the coffee and Danish arrived.
I could see the look of confusion on his face, as I signed for the tray. I also managed to trip the waiter so that the coffee pot spilled onto both me and Roberts. “Oh my God, I am so sorry.” I said that as I used one of the cloth napkins to blot coffee from Roberts suit. He pushed me away before I could find his pistol’s location. My mind was still racing.
“Housekeeping,” the female Hispanic voice from the hallway said.
“In here please, we just spilled coffee. Your timing couldn’t be better.” I was running around manic as hell. I was trying my best to keep the confusion going until the cops arrived. Everything was getting calm when it was obvious that Roberts had caught on. He was about to turn away when I slipped the hammerless .38 against his spine.
“I don’t want to blow your spine out in front of all these witnesses, but I can and probably get away with it. You and I both know you are not from GE. Now let the little drama play out as it should.” The patrolmen were at the door within minutes. I put the .38 in the pocket of my jeans before I approached them.
“You need to make sure the Mr. Roberts there doesn’t leave. He is most likely armed. The younger of the patrolmen immediately pulled his weapon. They not only found Roberts’ nasty little automatic, they found my .38. To add to the confusion, the real GE security manager who knew everyone in the Police Department showed up.
It was a cluster fuck for the next half hour. I personally enjoyed the Flushing Police Keystone Cop act, but Ted and Ed didn’t care for it. By the time they made it to their meeting, there were in no mood to deal with GE. I didn’t give a crap one way or the other.
The meeting went on even though nothing was decided. While they cried, complained, and negotiated, I slept on the sofa. I got a good three hour nap while they jockeyed for negotiating positions. I didn’t give a crap how the day ended. I hated that I was going to lose my weapons. It is a bad idea to take weapons into New York State. If they had been heirloom guns, I would have demanded a hearing and probably won. But I planned to just bill Ted and Ed for the replacement cost. I had to stop on the way home that night to purchase a shotgun at a Wal-Mart store in Maryland. We planned to stop for the night in Virginia and I didn’t want to sleep naked. Driving from New York to Maryland unarmed had been nerve racking enough, since I never considered either tasers or pepper gas as weapons.
“Damn this trip cost us a lot of money to have nothing of any real value come of it,” Ed complained, as we neared Aster the next afternoon.
“Nothing of any value? Why you little shit, I might have saved your formula, if not your life. I just hope you try to avoid payment of my invoice for those weapons. I would love to get your ass on the stand in Aster. Jennifer can always ask where you were while the 125 pound woman was holding off Mr. Roberts, possibly of the Gambini family.” Ed was properly cowered. I just loved playing the little chick card.
“Roberts is a reputable private investigator. He was hired to arrange a meeting for a brokerage firm. A firm that wanted to hand us a million dollars,” Ted said giggling.
“That’s his story now. They picked up his secretary, who couldn’t wait to roll over on his ass. How do you think we got off so easy?”
“Because GE threw their weight around?” Ted suggested, with a giggle. His girlie giggle was getting old quick.
“That too,” I admitted. Even with all the drama, I got my expense and fee settlement from the boys immediately. I submitted an appraisal for the Mossburg Shotgun and the two pistols. Replacing them wasn’t going to be a problem, I was glad that I left all the antique weapons in Ed, the bondsman’s, safe room.
The Ted and Ed excellent adventure, did give me a lot of confidence. I had eaten real food the whole trip. I had stayed awake and active so I felt I had regained a lot of my strength. All in all, it had been a worthwhile trip. I even felt good enough to plan a trip to the Cop Out.
By Friday, I had caught up with my document serves and was looking forward to a night out. I planned to go to the Cop Out to dance a little, flirt a little, and maybe get laid. I didn’t plan on any highly gymnastic sex, but some nice old lady type fucking might be in order.
Maxine's new life 