Eyes of an Eagle a Novel of Gravity Controlled Read online

  “There you are? I was wondering where you ran off to."

  “I had an idea about the signals. I think we need to fuzz them a little."

  “I get it. The frequencies aren't matching but since we can't increase the accuracy we fuzz the frequencies so they will occasionally match up.

  “What would you like me to do?"

  “I need a number 8 bolt with a nut that is about one inch long. There should be a few in the box over there."

  I started to hear humming and the tinkling of bolts and nuts. I looked over to Tabitha. The box was on the floor. She was bent at the waist, hands deep in the box with her legs spread wide. Her ass was rotating in time with the tune she was humming. God did she have a well-built set of legs and ass. I walked up behind her slowly touching her moving body with mine. We never got back to finishing our contraption before she left for school.

  Tabitha was back in school. I have my work. I have the contraption we were making. And I have Move-over. But the house still felt empty. Looking out the window, I saw the clear sunlit cold of sub zero weather. Putting on my wools, I got the green wax tin and my skis from the back entryway. The waxing took just a minute and I was out the door heading across the snow to the woods across the fields.

  One hundred yards from the house the coordinated hand leg movements of cross-country skiing broke through the feeling of loneliness. I was alert and ready to see the woods. By seeing, I meant more than seeing. I was ready to become, like my Uncle Ben, a part of the woods not just a viewer of the woods. Winter was the only time I could become part of the woods. During the other seasons, there was just too much life. I could only blend in. Halfway to the forest, I stopped and closed my eyes. I listened to the wind and rustling of the few dry leaves that hadn't fallen off the trees. My breathing slowed matching that of the forest. I headed on.

  It had been a week since the last snow and I could see all of the activity that had happened since then. Mice, deer, dogs, rabbits, wolves. Just inside the tree line I came upon three depressions with the flaring marks of wings. Three partridges had slept last night within sight of the farmhouse. Rabbit tracks were just a dozen yards farther. I stopped to look for the rabbit's black eye. I found it thirty feet to the right. Squinting in the bright sun, I made out the white outline of the rabbit against the snow. In the winter the woods are thick with life. And the tracks tell you the patterns of the living.

  I got to the stump chair. Brushing off the snow, I thought about the change in the pattern of my life

  Tabitha made. There was a throbbing in my hand. The puukko Ben had given me was there. I didn't remember taking it out but the rocking of the balanced blade between my fingers gave the knife the feel of a heartbeat. I looked. A nuthatch and two chickadees were watching. I put the knife away and warmed my frozen fingers between my legs. What did the watching mean?

  * * * *

  The Chameleon had a pleasant surprise with the new position. She was in charge of the corporate spies that the company used. Most of the spies worked for the magazines run by the company. It was strange but some of the companies seemed to expect and even work with the spies. One of the magazines would have spy pictures of the newest automobile designs with written articles that included quotes from the spied upon automobile company executives. This place was so much like the Users; she might just have to recommend that a permanent colony be placed here.

  * * * *

  Jones finally had something for Blythe. He hired a track student to injure the Czeminski girl. The student was to foul the girl during next track meet so Blythe could watch it happen. The detective he hired to find something on Karpinen was still having trouble. There was no easy way to observe the farmhouse he lived in. There was just too much open space in the country. The phone taps were not helping. There were few calls being made and except for a few odd email messages the Internet access was encrypted. The detective was able to break the codes but they were difficult enough that they were broken after the materials Karpinen was working on were publicly published. Jones knew he needed to make more happen to the Czeminskis and Karpinen soon or he would be looking for a new job.

  * * * *

  Tabitha rushed for the bus. There were twenty other athletes already aboard. It was a record for the college. Twenty invited to the pre-season invitational track meet in the Twin Cities. It was the third time Tabitha made it to the invitational. She settled back into the seat to sleep the hours to the arena. The noise from the first-timers was just a faint background hum to soother her to slumber.

  * * * *

  The limo pulled up to the arena fifteen minutes before the start of the meet. Jones had made sure that prime seats were saved for him and Blythe in the half full athletic center. Blythe had been occupied with financial reports during the flight down and had said only a dozen words to Jones. Nervous, Jones led Blythe to their seats. Praying that everything would go well, he told Blythe that the 3000-meter race was scheduled seventh in the line-up.

  “This is your last chance Jones. If this doesn't work, you will be looking for a new job. Anything on Karpinen yet?

  “Have you found leverage?"

  “No, but I have arranged for a fire to take place at Czeminski's laundromat this weekend."

  “Why haven't you got something on Karpinen?"

  “The company he works for is too big and he is too important to their operations for an attack on that front. He spends most of his time at home and with this being winter I can't get someone close to the farm he lives on without the possibility of being seen. You told me you wanted whatever happened to him to occur without someone tracing it back to us. To do that in the winter, we would have to go out-of-house and hire a professional fixer. You said you wanted to keep things in-house for now.

  “Sir, the 3000 meters is about to start. The dark hair girl running next to Czeminski is the one I hired from her school. To play it safe, I also hired the blonde two lanes over. They were told to take her out on the

  second lap on the curve right in front of us."

  They watched in silence as the race started. Czeminski was third through the first lap. On the backstretch of the second lap, the blond pulled along side her. The corner came. The blonde stumbled and fell into Czeminski. They both fell on the track with the blonde's legs tangled with Czeminski's. The brunette was running right behind the two. She clumsily tried to jump the tangle but landed on Czeminski's legs. They could hear the crack of the bone breaking from the stands.

  “Good. You finally did something right, Jones."

  The two men left the meet and got into the waiting limo for the drive to the airport for the flight back.

  Chapter 8

  Pop

  I was making the finishing touches to the contraption under Move-over's watchful eyes. The cat had climbed up into the rafters of the garage. Every so often, I would hear soft feet rustling the junk stored between the rafters or see dust dropping to the garage floor. I would look up to see Move-over's eyes glowing from overhead. The cat seemed to have a way of dropping dust so it would get into my nose. Other than the old boombox, the most noticeable change I made to the contraption was writing CONTRAPTION on the side of the transmission using a can of Alice Chalmers orange spray paint.

  I heard the door open behind me.

  “I see you decided to name it."

  “Tabitha! What are you doing here? I was going to drive up and see you this weekend."

  She stepped into the garage. I could see the split trouser leg and the walking cast that went up to her knee. “I had a little accident and took the rest of the week off."

  “What happened?"

  “Not much. During the 3,000 meter invitational a runner from St. Cloud State tripped into me on a corner and a teammate ran into both of us."

  “Sit down ... Does it hurt ... Do you need anything ... What can I do?"

  The laughter came. Gasp. “Yes.” Gasp. “Stop making meee laugh."

  She was okay. And even with the cast she was sexy.
She knew immediately what I was thinking. It could have been the memory of what happened the first time we laughed together or the bulge in my pants.

  “You just hold it there buddy. I want to see this contraption work before I let you scratch under my cast or anyplace else."

  It only took a few more minutes to finish checking the circuits. I lifted Tabby on the workbench and climbed up to sit beside her. We had a little countdown before flipping the switch. At first, nothing happened except for giggles, but then I saw a slight ripple near the focus of the reflector dish.

  “Did you see that?"

  “It looks sort of like the ripples from a stove burner. I wonder if it is hot."

  Meow. There was Move-over walking along the two by six rafter. A large dust bunny fell from his feet.

  Slowly it drifted to the Contraption.

  Pop.

  The circuit breakers blew. The garage plunged to dark with the only light coming from a small north window. I ran to the electrical box and flipped the lights back on. The contraption was in pieces. The bolts holding the transmitters in place were pulled loose. The dish was pulled off the Dodge transmission. Most of the pieces were dangling from their wires. The rest were lying on the garage floor.

  “I'll be damned. It worked."

  The only incident to mar the day happened much later. Tabitha was lying naked on my bed afer having me scratch her toes and the flesh around the top of the cast. I, of course, took the opportunity to scratch the rest of her body numerous times. After scratching for the tenth time the skin under the top edge of the cast, I was running my fingers up the inside of her thigh.

  “That tickles.” She jerked her leg up. Since my head was between her knees at the time, the cast connected with my nose.

  Later, I was in the bathroom pulling dried red toilet paper from my nose watching my eyes raccoon up from the bruises when I started to laugh.

  “Dan, what's so funny?"

  “Tabby, do you remember me telling you about when I figured out the equations?"

  “Yes. You said that you had been working ten hours straight so you ran to the bathroom. You started laughing because if a reporter asked...” She hit me. “You are not going to tell anyone about what happened."

  * * * *

  Jones yawned. It was 3:00 am. He couldn't leave his office until he knew everything happened as planned. He jerked spilling the cold cup of coffee he had in his hands. His office was only three blocks from the fire station. The fire siren was loud enough to wake sleeping volunteers at the outskirts of town.

  It was nearly deafening at three blocks. Walking to the window, he saw the orange glow from the location of the laundromat. Satisfied he left for home and bed.

  Tuesday morning and things were not well. The fire gutted the laundromat but Jones wasn't able to get suspicion for the arson to be placed on Earl Czeminski. On Monday, He had tried a little pressure on the DA to look into the fire but the DA came back with the news that the police were sure that Czeminski wasn't involved and that they had suspects that they were looking into. When Jones asked the DA who the suspect was, the DA refused to tell him.

  The investment drain in Blythe's companies had gained the notice of at least two Wall Street take-over specialists and the work to keep control of the companies had turned into a free-for-all. It was time to go outside for help. He had contacted a shady investigating firm known for their dirty tricks. He had to convince Blythe to go with the firm. Jones needed deniability if things went wrong and professional help in finding out who was raiding their companies.

  Jones left his office. Walked down the hall to Blythe's.

  “Sherry, I need to speak to the boss."

  “Sorry, Mr. Jones but he said not to let anyone in until he finished this call."

  Tll wait."

  Ten minutes later. “He is off the phone.” Sherry picked up the phone and pressed the intercom. “Mr. Jones is here ... Okay sir. Wait one more minute and then go in."

  “Mr. Blythe. I need help. I'm a lawyer. I know how to handle things after they happened. It is this setting up of things before that is giving me problems. We have this detective firm looking into Karpinen. I would like to expand their duties to include Czeminski and the other work."

  “We can't control an outside firm."

  “Sir, I thought of that. I can funnel everything through a third party. I will hire a lawyer friend and use attorney/client privilege to block the connection between us and the detective firm."

  “Don't you mean you and the detective firm?"

  “Yes, me. This will also help with our financial problems. I haven't had the time to really look into stopping these corporate raiders while working on Czeminski and Karpinen."

  “How much..."

  Jones made it through with his job still intact. It was the toughest sell job he had with Blythe. He decided that it was time to start looking for a new job. He was flying out to New York tomorrow. He would just float his resume while he worked on saving Blythe's companies. People were always looking for good corporate lawyers who didn't mind getting their hands a little dirty. The only problem was that you didn't have job security. But Jones decided that all he needed was another five more years in the trenches and he would have enough in his Swiss bank accounts to retire and live off the interest.

  * * * *

  Tabitha continued crying in my arms. My shirt was soaked through. It was both scary and comforting to hold her. I stroked her back slowly. There was no sexual desire in my hands but there still was a thrill of touching her warmth. Through gaps between the tears, she told how the family's laundromat had been torched and the loan and banking problems that were started by Blythe and Jones. My mind went back to the man watching my home. Could he have been working for Blythe? I looked up and saw Move-over's eyes. I silently whispered, “You need to watch her."

  “Meowwwerrr.” Somehow I knew Move-over understood and had accepted the task.

  Tabitha left my arms to wash her face. The whole side of my shirt was wet and cold. I went to the bedroom to put on a new shirt. Talking through the walls and doors to Tabitha, “You don't have to go back to school. You can stay here."

  “I am going to school. Blythe isn't going to stop me from finishing my degree."

  “You need to be careful. If Blythe had the laundromat burned, your broken leg might not have been an accident."

  “I thought of that myself. I will find out what happened."

  She came out of the bathroom. Her face was the same one I saw those weeks earlier in the video store. I knew she would find out what had happened. But I was still afraid. I spent the remaining hours of the weekend trying to talk her into letting me protect her or to play it safe and stay home. She refused both choices.

  I was again sitting on the stump in the woods. The knife blade throbbing in my hand and the birds watching. This time when I had skied into the woods, I had taken a step further in the transformation. I had become a predator. I felt the forest breathing and the life but this time my senses went out to find the life and my body relaxed to attack. At first, I couldn't understand why the tension left my limbs and my skiing rhythm changed to a liquid flow. But there was a clatter as two tree limbs connected in the breeze. My body flowed into readiness before my senses could classify the sound. I had not realized the body had to relax before it could fight.

  I had to protect Tabitha. I had to protect myself. Damnit. I needed to learn how to do both. The puukko flew from my hands and stuck one inch into a tree trunk equal distance between two nuthatches who were watching me. The nuthatches didn't fly away or stop their watching. I skied to the tree and pulled the knife from the wood. The birds finally flew to the next tree when I got within arm's reach.

  * * * *

  Jones had spent two days with the bankers. Jones knew his actions had given them a breathing spell of at least a few months. His next meeting was with Finkelstien, Bradly and Associates. It was a small investment firm that Jones had worked with before. He had gone to co
llege with Harry O'Bradly.

  “Harry O. You really should put the O back in your name."

  “Johnny, you know how Wall Street is. I had to leave Finkelstien's name on the company just so I could stay in business. No one except you would hire a firm named O'Bradly to do their investing.

  “Enough small talk. You look worried Johnny. What do you need?"

  “Raiders are going after my boss's companies. I think I might be a casualty of the take over attempt. I need to get my investments liquid enough so I can pull out without loosing too much money. Plus I would like to find out who is going after Blythe."

  “Okay, Johnny. There are some short terms bonds we can use..."

  “Now that is finished, what can you tell me about Coffee Klutch?"

  “Coffee Klutch? How are they involved?"

  “They started the problems by pulling out their investments in mass. Blythe's market value dropped 30 points in one day."

  “You're in trouble. The Coffee Klutch started investing in the early 80s. They are a private investment firm but all the big boys started watching them closely in the 90s. They have never had a negative year. They are damn good. If they have lost faith in Blythe, there is a better than 50/50 chance that nothing you try will save you."

  “Just who is Coffee Klutch? I've never heard of them and I can't find any details about them."

  “They are a private investment club so not much is known. I do know that they started out with 10,000 dollars and their current portfolio is over 375 million. For years I thought the Coffee Klutch was a group of Ivy League graduates. You know what I'm talking about. A group of friends just graduating from college put up 1,000 dollars each and go into the market. But a few years back I was drinking with a friend I have in the FCC. A news program about investing on Wall Street come on the bar's TV and this being the financial district no one turned it off. The reporters had a monkey picking stocks. The monkey out performed most of the big firms. The monkey even outperformed me for three-quarters. The news show went on to a group of little old ladies investing in the market. That is when my friend whispered,