CHAPTER 5

It was a bright afternoon. Downtown Boston pulsated with activity. A musical symphony of urban noise, a teeming cacophony of honking automobiles scrambled through crowded streets in the historic city. Boston, the birthplace of the Republic, democracy central, where the American dream of freedom and independent self-rule had come alive. One of America’s oldest cities, it was the centerpiece of a two-hundred-year old experiment in libertarian principles. The city had stretched and groaned with the history of the Republic. The narrative parks and old churches stood as monuments to a special place; a beacon of freedom for the rest of the world. A place where European rejects had come to prosper.

It was not just the history of the city that made it special. In addition to being democracy central, Boston was university central, and its downtown population reflected the university demographics. Across the downtown area, above and below ground subways carried students to and from communities of apartments that surrounded university campuses. Boston was a town renowned for its schools: Harvard, MIT, B.U., Emerson, Bentley; the names read like a directory of the world’s great learning institutions. Populated by multiethnic students that came from the Far East to the Middle East, visiting tourists would often react with shock when they rode the labyrinth of dollar-fare subways and observed legions of diverse young people, in their late teens and early twenties, passing time with their faces buried in books and electronic readers.

The white Miata zipped through downtown Boston. It traveled from the university, across the river, onto the freeway and off, through a maze of narrow passageways as it headed for Logan International Airport. The side roads Suzy took represented classic old Boston. Tree-covered sidewalks lined the turn-of-the-century brownstones, a mass of renovated single family homes that had been divided into separate flats that shrank in size and grew in price as the historical city’s population doubled. Bean Town had become boomtown. Suzy made the most of her knowledge of the shaded back streets as she carried Professor Blackstone in the passenger seat, racing him across town to the airport.

Suzy was in what Blackstone referred to as ‘warp speed’ mode that afternoon; honking at cars and yelling at trucks, weaving in and out of traffic, scarcely missing several pedestrians in the process. Blackstone maintained a white knuckle grip on the Miata dashboard as his elderly assistant continued her Grand Prix fantasy through the crowded Boston streets. The few times he had tried to slow her down or question her driving ability, it had resulted in a sharp rebuke, where Suzy reminded him that both her gender and age were things the university Human Resources department was sensitive about. He should mind his own business, she said. If she crashed the car, there would be plenty of time to complain.

The physics professor’s anxiety finally decreased when he spotted the overhead sign that announced the entrance to Logan Airport. The phenomenon known as Logan International Airport maintained what Boston physics students called a “perpetual state of construction.” Massachusetts politicians loved to spend taxpayer dollars, and their favorite sport was fixing improperly constructed facilities, which they had built. Logan airport was one of their favorites.

The Boston airport was in full perpetual motion the afternoon that Suzy Randolph drove Professor Blackstone into the complex. Dodging hard-hatted construction workers who glared at the grey-haired woman’s erratic driving, Suzy screeched sideways around the construction barriers and made a parallel curbside landing, beating the line of cabs that were now behind her. She leapt out of the car and ran to the trunk, ignoring the blaring horns that came from the line of cabs she cut in front of.

A valet approached Suzy’s car to complain, but stopped when she handed him the Boston “go anywhere” passport: cash. The valet smiled and tipped his hat, the money disappearing like a magician’s rabbit. Suzy popped open the trunk and pointed at the professor’s luggage.

“Thank you,” she said, nodding at the valet.

The valet gathered up the luggage. Professor Blackstone struggled to open the passenger-side door and lift himself out of the small convertible. Suzy rushed around the side to assist the physicist. Stiff from the short ride, Professor Blackstone stretched his arms and looked at his assistant.

“That was an interesting drive,” he said. “Remind me to give you a short lecture on Einstein’s time dilation and relativity: time is relative to motion. I may be a few seconds younger after that ride.”

Suzy smiled, a patronizing look, as she led her employer by the elbow to the sidewalk.

He stopped her. “By any chance did you remember to bring the tickets and-”

Suzy produced the airline ticket and his passport, slipping one into the other.

“Here,” she said. “Don’t lose them. It’s easy to get lost in Europe.”

“Thank you,” said Blackstone as he placed them in the side pocket of his tweed jacket.

Suzy steered her boss further, getting him to follow the valet who put the luggage on a cart and was now maneuvering his way through a dense crowd of passengers, headed into the terminal.

“Don’t forget to tell airport security about that pin in your hip,” said Suzy.

“Did you notify-”

She gently pushed him toward the terminal entrance as she spoke. “I made contact with Professor Thomas in Zurich. He said the entire Committee would be there.”

“Did you-”

She kept pushing. “I scanned Claudia’s treatise and emailed digital copies to all the Committee members.”

“Did you use the new encryption software?”

“Yes,” said Suzy, “for the fourth time.”

“The original?”

“Is locked in the office safe.”

“And campus security?”

“Was told to keep an eye on your office,” said Suzy.

“What would I do without your assistance, Ms. Randolph?” said Blackstone, smiling.

“Just make sure you’re careful,” said Suzy, and for the third time gently prodded him towards the terminal.

“Have a safe flight.”

The Professor nodded and shuffled to catch up to the valet, who was waiting at the terminal door.

“And don’t forget-”

The Professor waved without looking back. “I know, I know – to tell security about the metal pin in my hip.”

Suzy watched the Professor to enter the terminal doors before she returned to her car. Twisting the key in the ignition, she gunned the engine, speeding out of the airport terminal, headed to her meeting.

***

The highway traffic was light as Suzy raced to her prearranged destination. Pensive, her mind was brimming, apprehensive with what she was about to do. The university was her only home. For days Suzy had mulled over this meeting. People at the school were nice, but she wasn’t getting any younger. After her tenure at the university was over, there would be no one to care for her.

It was a thought that petrified her.

When you are young and beautiful, life seems like it will never end, she mused. The men in her life had been full of stories and promises until they got what they wanted. They had tossed her aside, like someone’s used furniture. There had been love, but she was both young and gullible. Most had lied. And there were the married men. They too had promised her the moon but never delivered. In her dancing days, men had literally fought over her. The money they provided flowed like water, a limitless supply, it seemed.

The world was her castle.

And she had lived like a queen, spending all of it.

Her crow’s feet and smile lines were constant reminders that she was too old for any of that now. Time for her to look out for number one because she knew nobody else would.

The meeting was set at a rundown diner located in an industrial area off the turnpike, thirty miles beyond the airport. She entered the parking lot of the diner and drove around until she spotted the only late model car in the lot, a dark Lincoln. She pulled in parallel to the vehicle and rolled down her passenger side window.

Inside the Lincoln was an unkempt, greasy-haired, fifty-seven-year old man in a white lab coat. Lucien Gray was his name, and he had a scowl on his face. He looked down at his watch when she pulled in, and glared at her. Seated next to Lucien was a large dark-skinned Middle-Eastern man with icy black eyes and small perched lips. His eyebrows were thick and joined at the center. Big shoulders and oversized arms bulged from his tight-fitting suit. Lucien called him Mr. Hamid. His arms were folded and his face blank when he turned to look at the nervous secretary.

Lucien rolled down his window and spoke harshly. “Follow me,” said Lucien, his voice a bark. He rolled his window up and backed out of the parking space. Trembling, Suzy did as she was told and followed the two men out of the parking lot.

They traveled fifteen minutes down the turnpike to an exit that led them to a remote wooded area. Suzy was the first to step out. She carefully closed the Miata door, reminding herself how remote the area was. Lucien and Mr. Hamid stepped from the Lincoln. The imposing Mr. Hamid, who towered over Suzy, walked around the Miata and stood behind her. Nervous, she turned her head to glance at him. His arms were folded, his eyes icy cold.

Glistening with perspiration, Lucien stood opposite Suzy. He was taller than her, but thin and lanky. Small craters dotted his face. He dug at a fresh blemish under his jaw with a soiled fingernail. A knee-length lab coat, sullied with pockets of smudge, hid his slightly rounded shoulders. His long flaccid arms extended past the coat sleeves which were an inch too short. Camouflaging a naked skull, he had carefully combed his oily brown hair from one side of his head to the other, keeping it in place with a thick coat of hairspray. His voice carried a nasal, annoying tone.

Lucien spoke first. “May I assume my old friends have scheduled a meeting?”

“Well, ye…” Suzy’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat, “Yes. At the lab in Zurich. They –”

“The Committee. Isn’t that what they call it now?”

“Uh, yes,” said Suzy.

Lucien puffed out his chest. “I was once their brightest physicist.”

“Yes, I know,” said Suzy.

“It had a different name back then.” He paused to look around the wooded area, his mind elsewhere. “A group with unlimited power, unmatched resources, and they act like school children. ‘We’re sorry, Lucien,’ they said, ‘It’s not your work,’ they said. ‘Personal issues make it impossible for you to continue with us.’”

Lucien stopped digging at the blemish, inspected his fingernail and snarled in disgust. “Patricians. I’ll show them what I’m capable of.”

He thrust out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Suzy removed a copy of Claudia’s treatise from her purse.

Lucien snatched it from her and turned his back on them, walking to the edge of the woods. He tore open the envelope and began to review the figures, mumbling and nodding in agreement as he read certain sections of the treatise. At one point he slapped the paper and laughed.

“Yes!”

Mr. Hamid remained motionless as Lucien continued his reading. Suzy turned to force a smile at the large man, but he stood motionless, his face a blank mask.

After a period of silence, Lucien lifted his head and nodded to Mr. Hamid. The large man moved around the administrative assistant and reached inside the lapel of his suit.

He appeared to be reaching for a gun.

Suzy, petrified, raised her hands to protect her face.

“No,” she pleaded.

Mr. Hamid pulled out a thick envelope of cash. “Here,” and handed her the envelope. In shock, Suzy lowered her shaking hands and accepted the envelope.

Lucien was still reading when he spoke. “I trust you’ll keep us up to speed on Professor Blackstone’s endeavors.”

Suzy was focused on the envelope, mentally counting the cash.

“Miss Randolph?”

She looked up. “Uh, yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, yes, yes.”

“Is it necessary for me to remind you of the confidentiality of our arrangement?” said Lucien.

Suzy quickly replied. “Of course not, I –”

“Mr. Hamid doesn’t like tattle tales,” said Lucien.

Suzy looked over at Hamid, who was now glaring at her.

“I wouldn’t,” she said.

“Go,” he snarled.

Suzy shoved the envelope of cash into her purse and scurried to her car, fumbling with her keys as she ran.

The scientist continued his reading.