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He stood respectfully at the back of the funeral chapel as the mourners filed out, a tall, older man dressed in a dark suit, overcoat, and sunglasses. He laid a large wreath on the gravesite and spoke to no one until later in the day when Kip was alone, walking back after paying his last respects to his parents.
“Excuse me. I wanted you to know how sorry I am about your father’s tragic death. It must be a great loss.”
“Thanks. Did you know him?”
“No. Not personally. I knew of him, certainly. His work. Your work.”
Kip slowed his pace, looking up at the man more closely. He recognized him from the picture he took of the man with Major Burke, in the game store. This man was Burke’s boss. Then end game had begun.
“You’re sorry about his death, as if you were involved somehow? Is that what you’re saying?” asked Kip.
“I bear some responsibility, yes. Indirectly.”
“Just who are you, exactly?”
“My name is Gerhard Schrader and-”
“Gerhard Schrader was a Nazi. He died years ago. He invented nerve gas, the bastard.”
“It’s the name I use.”
“You’re just another spook bastard. Burke works for you.”
“I am here to offer you a partnership. An investment opportunity, if you’d care to listen.” The tall man waited for a response, impassive. “I’m a great admirer of your talents. Of special interest to the nation is your Snakeskin armor.”
“Let me guess. You must run the Archer Foundation, right? You’re the man behind all the mirrors, picking up the pieces? The mandarin of black-ops? Is that right?”
“I wear many hats, Mr. Kipling. You’ve impressed us with your skills. We owe you a great deal and we’d like to offer you whatever you want. I can set you up with a complete field laboratory in Belize to understand the secrets of SNIPER DNA plus the latest equipment for Kipling Research. It will be state-of-the art in both places. Archer can even fade into the background so you never have to admit we are involved.”
“No thanks, whoever you are. Not interested.” Kip picked up his pace, but Schrader matched him.
“I am offering you a blank check. I’m offering unlimited resources, complete autonomy, the full support of your government, unofficially of course. This is your opportunity to save thousands of lives, Commander Kipling. Think about that for a minute.”
Kip stopped, turning to face Schrader, “Complete independence, no interference. I never see you again.”
“We will ask you for some contributions to national security, from time to time. That is the nature of the blank check. There has to be mutual benefits.”
Kip stared at Schrader, trying to read the man’s face.
“That is a pretty broad statement you just made. You could ask for damn near anything in the name of national security. No questions asked.”
“We would do that regardless of the source of your funding, if it was necessary for the national interest. The nation’s assets are always available in times of emergency. Homeland Security can ask the same of you. You know that, Commander Kipling,” said Schrader, without a trace of irony in his voice. “But this way you benefit from a partner that has the same interests as you do.”
“Cut out the Commander crap. I know what you’re trying to do,” said Kip, angrily. “Saving lives is my only interest.”
“And yet you took a life just a short while ago. I see you have no conflict with that decision?” asked Schrader, with a smile.
Kip walked on, staring ahead. Spider and Danielle stood in the distance, outside the chapel. They were looking at him, curious about his companion. “My work is all I have now. If I agree to this, I’d rather deal with someone else, someone other than you.”
“If you prefer that, of course.”
Kip stopped, turned to face Schrader, “Nothing personal, mind you. But you give me the creeps.”
“I have been told that occasionally, I must admit,” laughed Schrader, with a shrug.
“Kipling Research keeps all rights to SNIPER DNA?”
“All rights, royalties, everything. It is yours.”
“I am free to market my Snakeskin technology as I see fit?”
“As long as you comply with the current restrictions on the export of technology deemed to be in the national interest. That would include your Snakeskin armor, I’m afraid,” said Schraeder. “We would be most disappointed to see your armor in the hands of our enemies. Look at what one man was capable of, using your armor.”
“You’ve got me in a box with a closed lid and a few little holes for air, like a bug,” said Kip, angrily.
“I assure you, the Department of Homeland Security is a valuable client for your company. We can keep your order book full to bursting for the foreseeable future,” said Schraeder. “Not to mention the valuable contribution you’d make to the safety of this nation and all its citizens.”
“Tell me again, why are you offering this to me?”
“We need to stay ahead, Mr. Kipling. It’s that simple. We, and I’m speaking for the country now, we can’t afford not to offer this to you.”
“You want SNIPER DNA before anyone else, right?”
They started walking again, together.
“We have to. The competition is searching all over Belize as we speak.”
“It won’t do them any good. We’re the only ones who know the exact source of SNIPER DNA.”
“It is a secret that must remain a secret. It is vital to all our interests,” said Schraeder.
“That is the real reason we are talking right now, isn’t it?” replied Kip.
They walked in silence for a while. The funeral chapel up ahead was almost empty. Spider and Danielle were looking towards him, no doubt wondering whom he was walking with. Behind them, the green pines swayed gently in the ocean breeze. It was a perfect day, and Kip had been enjoying the quiet moments until this man had interrupted him.
“All you want in return is to explore - no, exploit the military applications of Kipling Research?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Military applications are all about killing people.”
“Yes, that’s correct too. Nuclear bombs, nuclear power, radiation, chemotherapy. Science is all about discovery and application. But we like to think of saving lives, not taking them.”
“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” said Kip, staring at the ground as he walked. He could hear the wind in the nearby trees, rustling and fidgeting. Nervous, like him.
“We are not the enemy. We are part of the reality of the world today. You can play a large part in that reality.”
“I can’t help but think you chose this moment on purpose.”
“Funerals are a time of remembrance and healing; of beginnings and endings. Are you ready for a new life, a new opportunity?”
“I’m all alone now. My parents are dead. I have a few friends I can trust,” He looked over at Spider and Danielle. “Well, I think I can trust a few people. It’s been hard lately, trusting anyone.”
Kip felt he was walking in water, each step pushing him deeper and deeper into unseen currents, sweeping him away. There was a moist smell in the air, something rotting, something dying. His father was in the earth now. Kip knew it was time to move on.
“What about my friends?”
“Are you looking for a deal for your friends?”
“Maybe I’m just testing you. If I said I needed Danielle to join my company, could I bring her into Kipling Research? Do I have that kind of juice, to make that happen?”
“If you say you need her, it’s done. She can be seconded to Kipling Research, effective immediately.”
Kip stopped walking, sorting out his options in his mind. Schrader stopped, waiting for an answer.
“Do we have an agreement, Mr. Kipling?” he asked.
Kip reached over and pulled the sunglasses from Schrader’s face, to look him in the eyes.
“One last question,” asked Kip, “Are you the devil, Mr. Schrader?”
Gerhard Schrader smiled at Kip, with no warmth behind it. “I am not the devil, Mr. Kipling. I think I am an angel of death perhaps, prepared to lead the good fight, whatever it takes, wherever it leads.”
“A death angel? Yes, I understand what you mean.” Kip had a momentary vision of the blood-red mushrooms with their entrancing beauty and the deadly toxins within. He knew it was a natural combination in nature. Hell, it was everywhere, even in people.
“Unfortunately, I need an answer. We have to hurry,” said Schrader, looking at his watch.
“Of course you want to hurry,” said Kip, placing the sunglasses back on Schrader’s face. “Okay, we have a deal.”
Kip shook Schrader’s hand and left him standing there, on the edge of the cemetery.
In the trees above the Cambria cemetery, Major Burke sighed in relief. The two men in his riflescope had shook hands. Finally, he could stand down. Kipling was part of the team.
Major Burke dis-assembled his rifle, placing each piece back in the foam slots in his carrying case. He slipped out of his blind and walked backwards, keeping his eyes on Kipling the entire time. Cleared the crest of the hill, he ran down the slope to the heavily wooded neighborhood where he had parked his car. He placed the rifle case in the trunk, then climbed into the driver’s seat and reached over to the glove compartment. Inside, he took out a hypodermic needle and injected himself with a powerful painkiller.
Finally, he could relieve his ribs from the pain. He felt the numbness sweep through his body. He tossed the hypodermic back in the glove box, started the car and drove away, down to the highway and south to LA.
Major Burke slammed a Travis Tritt CD into the player and cranked up “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” as he weaved through the traffic. The speedometer needle jumped north of eighty-five, putting a silly grin on his face.
“No wonder that Witch Doctor wanted to quit this fucking job,” muttered Major Burke, pulling past a Volvo station wagon as if it was standing still.
Burke reached under his seat for his bottle of whiskey. He promised himself he wouldn’t open it until he reached San Luis Obispo but he thought fuck it and opened it up just past Cayucos and kept drinking all the way to LA.
Mark Kipling watched the man named Schraeder climb into his black van and drive away. He hoped to never see the man again. He walked to the steps of the church where Spider and Danielle waited.
“What did that man want?” asked Danielle, motioning with her head towards the road.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” said Kip. “It is good news, I guess.”
“You’ve got my number. Call me when you feel like talking,” said Danielle. She walked towards her BMW.
“Hey, I feel like talking,” yelled Spider. Danielle didn’t look back at him. The two men watched her climb into her car and drive away.
“Kip, you want to go have a drink somewhere?” asked Spider.
Kip shook his head and entered the church alone.