Steve Martini - Trader of secrets

“Tell me,” she says.

“One thing I remember from the last time I was here were the cellular telephone towers. The jungle canopy out there…” I gesture out to the left as we drive south along the highway. “In most places, it’s no more than thirty feet high. The cell towers stuck up above it like fence posts. You could see them everywhere. A large antenna array is going to stick out,” I tell her.

“So all we have to do is climb a tree,” says Harry. “And hope we’re in the right place.”

“Actually I was thinking more like a small airport,” I tell him. “Do you see anything like that on the map?” I ask Joselyn.

“Not on this, but then it’s not much of a map,” she says. “Wait a second. I thought I saw something…” Joselyn turns the map over and looks at the other side. “Here it is. Beaches, cenotes, archaeological sites. ATV rentals. Ultralight flights.” She looks at me. “I don’t know if you’re up for something like that.”

“As long as it gets high enough and stays in the air, it’s fine by me,” I tell her. “Where do they fly from?”

“According to the ad, a place called Playa del Carmen.”

“It’s up ahead,” says Harry. “I just saw a sign a few miles back.”

“Let’s see if we can find the airport,” I tell them.

It was nearly three in the morning when Bugsy began barking. Sarah stirred from a deep sleep, unsure what it was.

The dog had his nose right up against the bedroom door that was closed.

“Bugsy, go to sleep!”

But he didn’t. Instead he barked again. This time Sarah heard a faint knock.

“Quiet,” she told the dog. She got up, threw on a robe, and opened the bedroom door. Bugsy took off down the hall like a shot. Sarah followed more cautiously down the dark hallway. There was another light rap on the front door as she approached the living room.

Bugsy stood there like a statue, looking at the door and growling. The safety chain was latched. Sarah, in bare feet, moved silently toward the door and peered carefully through the peephole.

“What in the world?” She slid the chain off, grabbed Bugsy by the collar, and opened the door. “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

“Sorry,” said Adin. “I hope I didn’t wake Herman.” He was whispering. He reached out and touched Bugsy on the nose. The dog immediately picked up the familiar scent and relaxed. “I didn’t want to ring the bell, but I had to talk to you. It’s very important.”

“Can’t it wait until morning?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to stand out here in the hallway and talk.”

“Then I suppose you better come in.”

Adin stepped inside, and Sarah closed the door. There was something strange about him. It was the way he was dressed. He was wearing dark slacks, a black turtleneck slipover jersey, and a navy blue blazer. It was a strange outfit for the middle of the night.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I am. I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes.”

“Where?” asked Sarah.

“There’s no time for that now. Listen to me. I have to tell you something.”

“Come in and sit down. I’ll turn on some lights.” Sarah started to turn toward the living room.

“No.” Adin grabbed her arm. He was still whispering. “Listen! I have something very important to tell you. And then I need your help.”

“Sure, if I can,” said Sarah.

“First I have to tell you the truth. I am not who you think I am.”

“Excuse me?” said Sarah.

“Part of what I told you is true, but not all of it. I am with the Israeli government, that much is true. But I am not with the Israeli Security Agency, and I didn’t come here to be trained. I’m assigned to the Mossad, Special Operations, Israel’s foreign intelligence agency. I came here to gather certain information and to send it back to my handlers in Tel Aviv.”

“What are you telling me? That you’re a spy?”

“It’s not a nice word, but the answer is yes.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need your help.”

“That’s not a good way to get it,” she said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to sugarcoat it. It’s a long story. There are things I cannot tell you. I’m just going to have to ask you to trust me.”

“Go on,” said Sarah.

“Do you know where your father is at this moment?”

“Why? Why do you want to know?”

“Because I suspect he’s in a great deal of danger. I know you’ve talked to him in the last few days. I was here when he called. Listen, I may be able to help him.”

“How?”

“If you tell me what he’s doing and where he is, I can help. Trust me. Tell me, when you talked to him, did he ever say anything about something called Project Thor?”

Sarah thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I would have remembered that. What is it?”

“It’s a highly classified weapons research program. The U.S. government, the Department of Defense, and NASA have been working on it for almost ten years. I can’t tell you much. But I can tell you this. The system has the potential to kill millions of people. Also, from what we now know, it appears that your government has lost control of the program. It may be in the hands of others.”

“If this thing is so highly classified, how do you know so much about it?” asked Sarah.

“We had someone on the inside. That is, until two days ago. He was working on the project. What you might call a mole. As long as he was there we believed that we had some kind of a handle in case anything went wrong. The problem is that two nights ago he was murdered. His body was dumped in an alley in Paris.”

Sarah looked at him.

“The same place your father was,” said Adin.

“How do you know?”

“There is no time for that now. I know he called you because I overheard part of the conversation. From the little I picked up, it sounded as if he might be on his way to Mexico. Is that where he is now?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah lied. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because if you don’t, a lot of people may die. If we’re right and your government has lost control of Project Thor, that means that by now the items in question are probably in the hands of another government. If so, there is a good chance that Project Thor will be harnessed and turned against either the United States, Israel, or both. If it works, it has the potential to kill millions of people. If it doesn’t work, if they get it wrong, it could wipe out life on the planet.”

“What are you talking about? What is this thing?”

“Your father doesn’t have a clue as to what he’s gotten himself involved in. You have to trust me. I need to know where he is.”

“Son, in order for that to happen, you’re gonna need to take us into your confidence.” The baritone voice came from the shadows in the hallway. Herman stepped out into the muted light of the entry. “The last time I looked, trust was a two-way street.” Apparently he had been standing there for a while, dressed in a robe and a pair of slippers. “Lady asked you a question. You want information. So do we. What exactly is this thing? This Project Thor?”

The operator answers one question for us. There are no other airports south of Playa del Carmen along the Mexican coast, nothing north of Belize. According to him, there are some small landing strips in the jungle, but he doesn’t recommend going near any of them except in the most dire emergency. He is sure that some of them are used to run drugs up from South and Central America-what he calls “the Coca Highway.”