COVERT WRITERS TAKEDOWN - Joe Bergeron (different ereaders TXT) 📗

enough for everyone to bear witness to
a very loud argument between and man and a young
woman, the latter, still seated, now poised with half a
glass of sparkling water in her right hand.
Kay caused the remaining beverage in her
glass to spread through an arc to a radius of about ten
feet. Within that radius stood a teacher of Physical
Laws, his black Izod pull-over now soaked with a
portion of her Saratoga. Sprinting from her comfortable
seated position, she moved to no more than six inches
from him, both hands on appropriate hips.
Hers was a very loud indulged request.
“HAVE YOU GONE WHACKY!”
“His was just a continuation of an occurrence
plan now in action.”
“I’M NOT THE ONE WHO’S WHACKED OUT!
I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING IN THE DAMNED
WORLD FOR YOU! I’M SURPRISED YOU CAN
EVEN WIPE YOUR OWN NOSE!”
Kathleen McKenzie was a woman you always
wanted as an ally, and never a foe.
“I’M GOING TO WIPE MY HAND ACROSS
YOUR FACE IN ABOUT TWO SECONDS!”
Behind the bar, Lillian Torres, known
affectionately as Lil to everyone on The Hyatt Regency
staff, had pressed what would have appeared to be a
doorbell were it able to be seen on the underside of the
dark oak trim bordering a shelf of assorted liquor
bottles. Although no audible sound was heard in the
lounge itself following its depression, the button had
alerted the hotel’s security staff to a problem they
needed to address in the Embassy Lounge.
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Presently, two, six-foot six inch Georgetown
University varsity basketball players just beginning
their summer employment were within earshot of
Courtney’s next words, their forward-moving position
just beyond the lounge doorway.
“I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PEA BRAIN OF
YOURS COULD SEND A MESSAGE TO YOUR HAND
THAT FAST.!”
Her right arm, drawn back to its furthest
position before beginning its forward thrust found itself
captured there by the largest black hand she had ever
seen. Marven Devon, a Junior point guard for the
Hoyas towered over her. James Mitchell, Devon’s
teammate and a Senior forward at Georgetown was
standing behind her teacher with equal towering
status. It was Mitchell who made the request of the
two arguers.
“Would you please come with us, Sir, Ma’am.
The bar will take care of your tab.”
There was no hesitation. Walking from the
room, the Senior forward to his immediate right,
Courtney noticed the dark-haired stranger near the end
of the bar slapping a twenty on its highly polished
smooth solid oak surface.
The stranger, now half turned on his stool, was
still in a line of sight for Courtney - he would obviously
follow them, but would not be allowed entry into the
Hyatt’s security offices.
Another occurrence plan almost completed.
The short walk to the Regency’s security offices
took only two minutes. Inside, two black pillars stood
with backs to the doorframe requesting their charges be
seated.
Five minutes later, The Regency’s Chief of
Security appeared from an alternative entrance to the
room. Courtney took notice. A possible egress.
107
Steve Fortunato, a retired New York City
Detective with multiple awards for meritorious service
addressed Courtney and McKenzie just prior to seating
himself behind his desk.
“May I see some identification?”
He’d asked the same question hundreds of
times before.
Courtney pulled his driver’s license and Boston
College ID from his wallet, politely handing them
across the desk.
His in hand, Fortunato requested the same of
the young lady.
“And you, Miss?”
She, in turn, retrieved a driver’s license and
her McKenzie Industries Senior Executive ID from her
purse. Her intention was not without logic.
The corporate identification didn’t escape the
Security Director’s notice. McKenzie Industries
maintained hospitality accounts, not only with the
Hyatt, but also with several other international hotel
chains. Pat McKenzie was well known for very
generously taking care of the security staff at all the
hotels.
“Miss McKenzie, are you related…”
“Yes, he’s my father. I‘m very sorry about all of
this.”
“Are you folks staying with us now?”
“Not this week, we just stopped in for a drink.”
“Do you think you could work out your problem
somewhere else?”
Courtney had taken notice of the engraved
brass nameplate on his desk.
“Mister Fortunato, this has been very
embarrassing, I apologize. We’ve been traveling all
night, and we’re both pretty edgy.”
The former detective wanted closure.
“Well, aside from putting on a show, I suppose
there was no harm done.
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Mister Courtney, would you excuse us while I speak
with Miss McKenzie?”
She put her hand on Courtney’s arm before he
could move.
“That won’t be necessary, Mister Fortunato.
Mister Courtney and I have McKenzie Industry
business in Washington. We had a major disagreement
in you lounge, but that’s not uncommon for us. This
man is under contract with my father’s company, and
he sometimes allows his loyalty to become confused
with authority. I appreciate your concern, and I know
it’s for my well being, but this man is no threat to me.
In fact, I trust him with exclusivity. If it wouldn’t be
inconvenient, and if we may, I’d appreciate it if we could
leave by a door other than the one we came in.”
Neither ball player/security guard had ever
heard a girl approximately their age speak with such
disarming fluency. The both sensed her brief speech
had caused their boss enough satisfaction to feel that,
although she was irritated with him, he posed no threat
to her.
The Chief of Security stood addressing his two
charges.
“Very well, James, Marvin, would you please
show these people through the kitchen to the outer
doors?”
He looked at Courtney.
“You’re welcome here anytime, but we can’t
disturb our guests.”
Courtney’s answer was brief.
“I understand. It won’t happen again.”
There were three chefs in the Hyatt’s kitchen
preparing for the evening meal. As the strange
entourage passed through, two of them turned, not only
to enjoy the pleasant appearance of a long-legged blond,
but also because they’d heard her make reference to a
black-eyed vegetable to be served with dinner.
109
“Pea brain, Michael? You’re going to take that
back.”
He thought it best to offer no response. It
didn’t take a lot of any kind of thinking.
He sat disconsolate in the black Ford reporting
to a senior.
“I lost them.”
He already knew the response he’d hear.
“How the hell could you lose them?”
“They got into a fight in a lounge, some
security guys took them into an office, and they never
came out. I checked with the front desk, they’re
registered to by here on the twenty-ninth.”
“This is incredible, get your ass back here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Saturday, May 20, 4:15 p.m.
The United States government is the world’s
largest purchaser of high-tech electronics systems.
Each year, hundreds of millions of U.S. tax dollars are
allocated to procure the best available computers,
guidance devices, electromechanical systems, and
electronic control systems. In addition, millions more
are spent on research and development to insure, and to
maintain, superiority in weapons technology and covert
surveillance equipment.
No one, including Japan, Germany, France,
England, and Russia, has developed anything close to
the electronic technology and complexities found
onboard U.S. fighter jets and other military aircraft.
The U.S. has an ability to defend itself, and to engage
war, that is incomparable in the annals of human
history.
110
Ninety-five percent of the electronics systems
developed for either the U.S. military, or for
surveillance use, are manufactured by private industry.
In the field of covert and military electronics,
McKenzie Industries was one of the U.S. Government’s
major research and development, as well as production
vendors. McKenzie’s anti-static system was created to
give U.S. Air Force F-15E Strike Eagle fighter pilots
absolute hearing ability while flying at the speed of
sound. At close to fifteen hundred miles per hour, an F-
15 fighter commander can switch to an enemy aircraft’s
radio frequency and hear the pilot of that aircraft
breathing.
Eddy Dalger, McKenzie’s Chief Electrical
Engineer, was a small, thin man with salt and pepper
hair and an engaging smile. The son, and only child of
German immigrants, his parents had both worked
tirelessly to provide him with a good American
education. A electrical engineering cum laude
undergraduate of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in
Troy, New York, he earned his Masters Degree in the
same discipline while at The California Institute of
Technology in Pasadena, California.
He was now sitting and finishing the
encryption of a modified anti-static system into a
German made Wollensak reel to reel tape recorder. The
encryption was being made into a telephone line at the
Washington D.C. Marriott hotel.
She addressed him again.
“Eddie, thanks for coming down here on such
short notice.”
He looked up from his work.
“No problem, Kathleen. Your dad’s orders are
pretty clear to us -when he’s out, you’re the boss.”
“Let’s keep that our little secret, Eddie. I think
some of our Executive V.P.’s might not take to it as well
as you do.”
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“They all know about it, and they all respect
your dad.”
He finished tightening a screw.
“There, you’re not only going to record your
calls, you’re also going to hear everything within two
hundred feet of the caller.:
Setting the tape, he noticed Courtney entering
the suite’s living area.
“All set, Michael, you’ve got the best set of ears
in the world here.”
The metaphysician, finishing his traverse of
the room, took a chair next to the engineer.
“I need another favor, Eddie. My car - I think
it may be wired with a transmitter. It’s in the parking
garage at the Rand building. Do you have anything in
your black bag that could detect it?”
Dalger spoke without hesitation.
“Sure do. What do you want me to do if I find
something.”
“Leave it there, but put some kind of distortion
device on it.”
He picked up a bag containing electronic
testing equipment.
“Let’s go check it out, I’ll need to stop in the
lobby and get some chewing gum.”
While Dalger was securing a McKenzie
manufactured transmitter detector from his bag, Kay
pulled Michael aside for a brief and whispered
conversation.
“Michael, do you think they’re watching your
car?”
He’d already thought about the possibility.
“I don’t think so Kay. They probably think
we’re just going to cab it for awhile.”
It didn’t matter - he would use evasion
techniques on his way back to the hotel.
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There were actually two transmitters in the
Jeep. One beneath the dash on the passenger’s side,
another under the rear bench seat.
Dalger had been chewing a major-league wad
of gum from the time they had left the Marriott. He
now took from his right pants pocket the foil that had
formerly wrapped his Wrigley Spearmint sticks while
additionally securing the soft, gummy contents of his
mouth.
Pulling the gum apart in two equal halves, he
flattened both of them like miniature pancakes and
placed a foil strip on each. Rolling the little spearmint
flapjacks into balls, he stuck each of the two pieces over
the transmitters.
The engineer addressed Courtney.
“Looks kind of crude, Michael, but it works
better than anything. Whoever put these here will hear
you talking, but the foil will cause repeatability. It’ll be
like trying to hear a conversation in an echo chamber.
They’ll only be able to make out every seventh or eighth
word you say.”
Standing alongside the Jeep now, Courtney
opened the passenger door allowing Kay entry.
Once she was seated, he closed it and turned to
Dalger.
“Eddie, can you join us for dinner? I’m sure
you have some questions about all this. I’ll tell you as
much as I can.”
“Michael, my marching orders come from the
top. Pat isn’t messing around when he says Kathleen’s
the boss in his absence. But he also knows she’s got you
to rely on. I’ve been with Pat a long time, Kid.