Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [28]
Jack pretended not to notice.
"When you were at Bix Automotive, did you hear about any scams you old boyfriend is running," he asked, accepting a steaming cup, sans milk or sugar.
Stella stared at him. "No. Should I?"
Jack sighed. "Caught a cheat at the roulette wheel earlier today. This guy had a predictive computer. A good one. Claims he bought it from Hugo Bix."
Stella glanced away. "First I've heard of it."
"But he has sold that kind of stuff before, right? Cheating devices, I mean..." Jack knew he had to probe gently. He could see Stella was holding back.
The woman shrugged. "Doesn't sound like his style, but if you say so."
Jack stared at his coffee. "This is only the beginning. I think Hugo's about to make a move."
"Well if he is, he's making a big mistake." Stella took a long sip from her own coffee cup. "Hugo ain't that bright. Not nearly as smart as you, Jaycee. I doubt he's got the cojones to buck you, and why should he? He's got his share and you got yours."
"We're the two biggest punks on the block. We're gonna mix it up sooner or later. I know it, and Bix knows it."
Stella rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm going back to the garage later, to pick up my car. I can ask around, quiet like."
"If you do, be careful."
"I told you I can take care of myself." Stella waved a dismissive hand, then put down her cup and threw her arms around Jack's neck. "Enough about him, Jaycee. I'm getting hungry again, and not for dinner..."
The phone rang, too soon. Jack wasn't finished grilling the woman yet. Irritated, he grabbed the receiver.
"Jaycee, here."
"It's Curtis. I need to see you down in the basement."
Jack dropped the phone, climbed out of bed.
"Where are you going?" Stella cried.
"Trouble on the floor," Jack grunted, buttoning up his shirt.
"Great. Just great," she moaned, rolling out of bed. "I'm gonna use your shower, okay? And by the time you've finished your business downstairs..."
Stella Hawk heard the door slam. She turned around.
Jaycee was gone.
* * *
2:22:59 p.m. PDT
Microwave Tower,
Experimental Weapons Testing Range
Groom Lake Air Force Base
Tony Almeida reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped carefully around several bundles of wire, each as thick as an overstuffed cobra. Some ran from the generator to the microwave emitter at the top of the steel skeleton. Others were connected to the control panel set up under a nearby tent. With each step, Tony felt his shoes stick to the scorching concrete.
Shading his eyes with his hand, he looked around. Dr. Megan Reed was under the open flap of the tent, discussing the logistics of today's demonstration with Corporal Stratowski. From under the brim of an oversized Air Force-blue hardhat, fluttering strands of reddish-blond hair framed her freckled face. The headgear seemed incongruous, clashing with the project head's summer suit and high heels.
Near the pair, Phil Bascomb was busy running a diagnostic on the control panel, and the others had gathered at the water station, soothing their parched throat.
Tony looked up. Steve Sable was almost finished connecting the last power cable. He'd be climbing down the ladder in a minute or so. Now was the time.
Tony casually leaned against the hot metal, right next to the ladder — really a series of metal bars screwed into the steel structure. He quickly drew a wrench out of his pouch, slipped it over one of two metal bolts that held the fifth rung from the bottom in place. The tower had been erected only a few hours ago, and Tony expected the bolt to be looser than it was. In the end, he had to use both hands to break the seal. After that, it took only a few seconds to loosen the screw enough to fail the moment it was tested.
He'd barely