The Adamas Blueprint

CHAPTER 36

After he had been hit in the head by Hamilton back on the Arlington Memorial Bridge, Lobec had been dazed for only a second, but it had been enough for the two of them to jump over the side of the bridge without Lobec firing a shot. It was uncharacteristic of Lobec to get distracted, but he had taken undeniable pleasure in shooting the insufferable Bern. The temporary lapse had been enough for the resourceful Hamilton.

Lobec had recovered quickly from the blow and run over to see Hamilton splash to the surface, his girlfriend already taking cover under the bridge at the next pylon west. Unfortunately, some of the passing cars stopped upon seeing what happened, and their passengers got out to investigate, leaving no chance for Lobec to take them out from above. Jensen and Hamilton disappeared under the bridge.

For the benefit of the bystanders, Lobec pointed at Bern and yelled, “My God! That man shot him and jumped off the bridge!” Then he began running.

If there had been men stationed at the ends of the bridge, they could have intercepted Jensen and Hamilton. But he had lied to Tarnwell. Extra men wouldn’t have fit into Lobec’s plans. Just before he had left for the rendezvous, he had told them to stay at the mansion.

Lobec ran toward Virginia, pausing at the next pylon to see if he could find them. That’s when he heard the boat’s motor fire up and realized they would get away unless he did something. He knew that there were only a few small docks north of the bridge, so he took a chance that they were headed south.

Lobec tucked the SIG Sauer he’d used to shoot Bern into the waistband of his shorts and sprinted through the slow-moving traffic, crossing the six lanes in seconds. Without stopping, he leaped off the opposite side of the bridge. When he surfaced, the boat was roaring out from under the bridge three feet in front of him. He lunged forward and barely grabbed the aft ladder as the boat skimmed by. He gritted his teeth as the force of the jolt dislocated his left shoulder, nearly ripping his arm from its socket. He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared that neither Hamilton nor his girlfriend had seen him.

It had taken all of his concentration to keep his legs from being tossed by the waves into the exposed propeller. After a minute, though, he was able to raise himself enough to get a foothold on the ladder. Then the climb had gotten easy. He had not been surprised to see Hamilton watching as his head rose above the boat’s edge. He even smiled at seeing Hamilton’s shocked face, although the surprise had come earlier than he had hoped it would.

Hamilton’s inaction lasted only a fraction of a second. Cursing, he began fumbling with a bag lying next to him. The girl turned around and screamed when she saw Lobec.

“Shake him loose!” Hamilton yelled.

Lobec was not all the way into the boat and had to hold on tightly to keep from being thrown into the water as Jensen tossed the boat side to side.

Hamilton found what he was looking for, withdrawing a Glock pistol from the bag. He chambered a round. Then he yelled in the girl’s direction.

“Okay. Stop the boat.” Hamilton held the Glock with both hands. They were still chained together by the handcuffs.

Jensen pushed the throttle to STOP and turned to face Lobec.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Hamilton said.

Lobec was still only halfway into the boat and could not draw the SIG Sauer in his waistband because his right hand was holding him onto the ladder and his left was useless. He couldn’t raise his arm enough to grab the pistol let alone fire it accurately.

With the Glock trained on him by the marksman Lobec knew Hamilton to be, Lobec slowly eased his legs over the side of the boat without trying to draw.

“That’s far enough,” Hamilton said. “Now with the thumb and forefinger of your right hand grab only the butt of the pistol in your shorts and drop it on the deck.”

At a range of three meters, Hamilton would not miss if Lobec tried to draw the awkward pistol and silencer combination. He did as he was told and dropped it to the deck.

“Good. Now slide it over here with your right foot.”

“Or what,” Lobec said. “Or you will shoot me?”

“You killed my father. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your head off.” Kevin had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of jet engines powering up at the end of National’s runway.

“Kevin, don’t,” Erica said.

“He will not, Miss Jensen. And I have a very good reason for you not to kill me. You’ll never know what this is all about. Besides, I am an unarmed man. I know for a fact that you have never shot anyone in your life. And you won’t shoot me.” He moved his left leg forward. Even with his dislocated shoulder, Lobec merely had to get close enough to disarm Hamilton. At most, two arm’s lengths away would do it.

With the quickness of a cat, Hamilton shifted the gun and shot Lobec in the left calf. Lobec stumbled, for the first time surprised by Hamilton, but he caught himself before falling, balancing on the other leg. He didn’t look down. The pain was no worse than other gunshot injuries he’d endured, probably little more than a flesh wound.

“Are you convinced now?” Kevin pointed the pistol at Lobec’s head.

“Quite.” With his right foot, Lobec tapped the SIG Sauer, which slid along the floor to Hamilton’s feet.

“All right then,” Hamilton said as he slowly dipped to the deck to pick up the SIG, never once taking his eyes off Lobec. He put the pistol in his waistband. “I decided I wanted to hear what you have to say. Now sit down on that cushion.” Hamilton pointed at the back of the boat with his head. “And remember to keep your hands in the air.”

An interesting predicament, Lobec thought as he sat with a squish on the cushioned ledge. To be at the mercy of his captors, most likely to be turned in to the authorities, was a situation he had never before faced. But despite his injuries, his hand-to-hand skills were still formidable. To use them, he had to get them off guard. And presently, he had only one way to do that. Tell them the truth.

“Are you crazy?” Erica said.

“It’s only a minor wound,” Kevin said, seeing that Lobec’s expression hadn’t wavered. “He’ll be all right.”

Which was true, but for the moment Lobec was a mess. Blood was streaming down his leg and pooling onto the floor of the boat.. His left arm dangled awkwardly at his side. It looked dislocated.

“I can’t believe you shot him.”

“He wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t. After two days with this guy, I’m sure of it.”

Lobec spoke. “You are probably wondering why I shot Mr. Bern.”

“We know why,” said Kevin. “Because you’re a greedy son of a bitch like Tarnwell. You wanted Adamas, and you weren’t willing to share.”

“Then why did he tell me to throw the bag into the river?” Erica said.

“What?”

“When I told him to let you go or I’d throw the bag in the river, he said that he didn’t care. He practically told me to throw it into the Potomac.”

“He was bluffing you.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Hamilton. She is right. My intent was to have her drop the bag in the river.”

“Oh really?” Kevin said sarcastically. “And why did you shoot Bern? So you could let us go?”

“Mr. Bern’s death was tragically unavoidable in the protection of my country’s national security.”

“Oh that’s just great,” Kevin said. “You work for the government? It’s just like you guys to wave the flag around whenever you do something wrong and pretend you’re doing it for God and country.”

“What does the Adamas process have to do with American national security?” Erica said. “If anything, it should be good for it, considering all the possibilities Kevin’s be telling me about the process.”

Without changing expression, Lobec said something that splashed over Kevin like a bucket of ice water.

“Who said I was American?” In that one short phrase, Lobec’s cadence and accent changed noticeably. Kevin couldn’t place it, but it was definitely not an American accent.

“Please allow me to introduce myself yet again. My real name is Nils Van Dyke.”

“What is that?” Erica said. “A Dutch accent?”

“Very good, Erica. Not exactly, but you’re close. I’m from the Republic of South Africa.” The words came quickly now, not the measured rhythm Lobec had used with the American accent. “My one flaw has always been my inability to master accents. I could do an American accent, but it required me to speak in a stilted manner. Unfortunate, since it drew attention to me. Not something I relish in my line of work.”

“Which is?” Kevin said.

“I thought that would be obvious by now. I’m a spy.”

Erica looked at Kevin, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off Van Dyke. The pistol was still pointed straight at his head. A pool of blood was slowly expanding at Van Dyke’s feet.

“You’re a spy working for Clayton Tarnwell?” Kevin’s voice was dubious.

“As you both probably know, South Africa is rich in mineral resources. In fact, it’s one of our main sources of wealth. It obviously makes sense to observe the world’s most powerful country to see what is happening in the mining field, both politically and industrially. My position in Tarnwell’s company allows me to do just that. Of course, he thinks I’m a mercenary for hire, bowing to his every wish because he manipulated my release from a Mexican prison and now holds the lives of my brother and his family as hostage.”

“Let me guess,” Kevin said. “There is no brother.”

“Oh, I have a brother, but not one in California, which is where Tarnwell thinks he lives. If Tarnwell does retaliate for my actions, it will be against a family that, except for a few fabricated records in my phone bill, doesn’t exist. If Michael Ward wasn’t lying, that videotape would have given me something to use against Tarnwell.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t watched it?”

“We watched it,” Erica said. “The only thing we saw was the first experiment, the one that got this all started.”

“Then Ward was lying.” Van Dyke seemed surprised. “It doesn’t matter. Tarnwell’s easy enough to manipulate without it. However, my most important mission is almost over. I may not even need Tarnwell any more. Not if I can stop Adamas.”

“So you never were helping Tarnwell?”

“Oh, my missions helped him tangentially, but that wasn’t my intent. In fact, this mission will almost surely ruin him. Tarnwell has all of his money riding on a merger with Forrestal Chemical. If he doesn’t have Adamas by tomorrow, his company won’t be worth enough to pay the interest on his loans.”

“If you really are a spy,” Kevin said, “then why are you telling us all this? I thought you guys took poison pills before talking.”

“I’m telling you because I want to appeal to you. My country is in a very fragile state right now. It will take years to recover from apartheid, years that could stretch into decades if our country is suddenly plunged into economic ruin. And this Adamas process will do just that. It could devastate our economy, maybe even provoke a civil war. Whatever you think of me, I am a patriot first. I can’t let my country be ruined, and I’m sure you don’t want it to be.”

Kevin chuckled. “You expect us to believe that load of crap?”

“It’s the truth.”

“The truth! Van Dyke is the third name you’ve given me. Lord knows how many other ones you have. You killed my father, Bern, Ward, Stein. Now you want us to believe that all you want is peace and harmony for your country? Pardon me for thinking this is a bunch of bullshit. Erica start the boat. We’re taking this guy to the police. Let them figure out whether he’s telling the truth.”

“I must point out that I’m merely trying to protect you. Tarnwell has thirty men still looking for you. They’ll find you, just as I…found…” Van Dyke’s voice trailed off, and his face began turning white.

“We need to stop the bleeding,” she said. “He’s going into shock.” She started toward him.

Kevin put his left hand out to stop her. “Wait until we get to the marina. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

“He may not have that much time.” She struggled against his arm, and Kevin turned his head to face her.

“Erica, I’m telling you, this guy is dangerous. If he…”

Suddenly, Kevin’s left arm exploded in pain. The impact of Van Dyke’s foot knocked the gun from his hand. The Glock ricocheted off the port side of the boat. Before he could react, Van Dyke slammed him backward against the console.

In the next instant, Kevin could feel a hand pawing at his midsection. He realized what was happening and wrapped both hands around Van Dyke’s wrist just as he felt the SIG Sauer being drawn from his waistband. The safety was on, but if they wrestled much longer, Van Dyke might be able to flick it off. Kevin didn’t like the idea of a gun going off in his pants.

Erica, who had almost fallen overboard when Kevin glanced off her, regained her balance and came up behind Van Dyke. Using a modified Aikido move, she hammered both arms into his neck. Van Dyke released his grip and the SIG clattered to the deck. In a single twisting motion, he swung in a 180 degree arc and threw his fist at Erica. She ducked to avoid a direct blow, but Van Dyke managed to catch the top of her head. It was enough to send her reeling toward the bow.

Kevin stooped to pick up the fallen SIG. As his fingers brushed the grip, Van Dyke threw his knee into Kevin’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. Then Kevin felt himself being tossed to the back of the boat.

While he struggled to breathe, Kevin saw the Glock lying underneath a life vest in front of him. He scrambled over to it. In a prone position, Kevin raised the pistol and turned to point it at Van Dyke.

At the same time, Van Dyke was rising next to the console, holding the SIG Sauer. But it wasn’t pointed at Kevin. It was pointed at Erica. She was now standing at the bow of the boat.

“Hold it!” Kevin yelled.

Van Dyke remained facing Erica. “I saw you retrieve the Glock, Kevin. Drop it, or I will kill Erica.”

“What if I kill you first?”

“You’re in handcuffs and in an awkward position. I am not. My chances are much better.”

“If you kill her, you’ll die and I’ll still have the Adamas Blueprint. Now put down the damn gun!”

Erica looked at Kevin. Oddly, she didn’t seem as terrified as Kevin was. Instead, she was concentrating on him. Her eyes almost imperceptibly moved towards the water and then back to him. Her legs were bent, ready for action. Kevin understood what she was thinking. But Van Dyke was standing no more than eight feet from her. She’d never be able to dive into the river before he shot her. Kevin shook his head.

“Kevin, we both know how this is going to end…”

The roar of a jet taking off drowned out his words. Erica extended her legs and leaped into the air. Van Dyke fired the SIG. Erica flew backward over the starboard side of the bow. Van Dyke fired twice more within the second it took her to hit the water.

“No!” Kevin shouted. He pulled the Glock’s trigger. A gush of blood and flesh exploded from Van Dyke’s left shoulder, spinning him around to face Kevin. There was no expression on his face. No sadness, no remorse, no anger, no pleasure. Just the determined look of a professional carrying out his duties.

He swung the SIG in Kevin’s direction. Kevin had no choice. Without hesitation, he shifted the Glock slightly and fired. A spray of red flew back from the top of Van Dyke’s head. For a moment, he just stood there, as if nothing had happened. The only change was that he now had an expression.

He was puzzled.

The expression quickly faded. His eyes closed sleepily. Like a puppet dropped by his master, he collapsed in a heap.

Kevin pushed himself to his feet and ran to the bow, expecting to see Erica’s body floating face down in the water. What greeted him was almost worse. All he could see in the placid surface of the Potomac was his horrified reflection.