David Dun - Unacceptable Risk

"They have no jurisdiction, you fool," Nemus said.

"Tell them that when you're full of drugs and they're pump ing you for information about the foreign agents you're trying to sell to," Grady said. "Write a long letter to the director of Homeland Security and the appropriate Senate committee. After you look it up."

"Nemus concentrate on this," Michael took over. "Your whole life hangs in the balance. If you give me the journals and you leave Cornell we'll call it a misunderstanding and tell no one. If you don't a man who goes by Girard is going to take them and kill you. And if you escape that I'll probably find them in the next ten minutes or so and then you're career is dead forever. You got that?"

Nemus was thinking.

Michael headed toward the bedroom.

Nemus ran to him and grabbed his wrist but he was a small man and Michael merely glared at him and yanked his wrist away.

"Oh my God," Grady said. A man in a suit with a gun was plainly visible in the backyard. Nemus looked and moved back in the house as if to hide.

Grady pulled her Dessert Eagle. 357 out of her purse. And stood out of sight.

"Here's the first one of Gerard's men Nemus."

Then a second man jumped the fence.

"We could call it a misunderstanding?" Nemus said.

"They're in the bedroom," Grady said. "His voice rose an octave when you headed that way. Or maybe they are on the way to the bedroom."

The window seat was in the hallway covered with cush ions.

"In two minutes Nemus we're gonna be shooting at people. Now we need to negotiate with these people and give them the journals if we're going to get out alive."

Michael grabbed for the cushions to explore the window seat and Nemus sprinted to block him.

"Nemus this is your moment," Michael said almost in a whisper. "Your whole life hangs in the balance. If you give me my journals and tell us everything, I'll sacrifice my jour nals to get us out alive. I'll walk away and tell only Professor Lyman. You could still work for a corporation. No arrest. No public humiliation."

The men had now disappeared on either side of the front windows.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Grady walked back to the window seat and opened it.

"Well look what we have here," Grady said revealing two full rows of binders. While Michael pulled them out she put her gun away, walked to the front door and stuck her head out.

"You can come in now gentlemen." Then she turned to Michael. "We have a deal Nemus but only if you come clean. So tell us about the copies, if you want to stay out of jail."

"I copied 1998. They gave me thirty grand and I sent the original out for copying."

"Where is it now?" Michael asked.

"I gave it to FedEx and threw the address away. They're coming anytime with one hundred grand to collect copies of the other volumes. They are just copying them and leaving the originals with me to return. I swear it."

"You copied these?" Michael said. "You bastard. You copied these volumes."

"I only copied the 1998 volume so far."

"What exactly did you do with it?" Grady demanded.

"I told you. I gave it to FedEx."

"Do you have the tracking slip?" Grady asked.

"Yeah I guess I do. On the desk."

"When did you deposit it?"

"This morning." Grady grabbed the tracking slip off the desk, got on the phone to Jill, and gave her the information. The package was sent to a street address in New York. It would be diverted and would end up in LA at Sam's new offices. They put Nemus on the phone for about thirty seconds to confirm the change. Jill would investigate the mailing address, but it would no doubt be newly established and a dead end.

"How much were they paying you for the 1998 copy?"

"I told you thirty thousand. But I don't know who they were. I swear."

"Where's the money?"

"They were going to give me the money with the rest. The hundred thousand for the copies of the others. Like I said."

Grady hated this Nemus character for putting her through the last forty-five minutes. She planned to talk to Lyman and make sure this fool was done at Cornell.

"I'll tell the guys to bring the trunks," Michael said.

"I'm gonna call the cops on you guys."

"Yeah, needle dick, you do that. We'll call the FBI. And we'll tell them what you stole, show them the FedEx receipt, and have you arrested for a damn felony," Grady shot back.

Nemus shut his mouth.

Grady went to get the security guys with the two 4-foot trunks and the Ford Explorer. They carried them up to the car like a couple of tiny caskets. After they had packed up the volumes, they left Nemus to his own thoughts and to contemplate the blessing of his intact body and his freedom.

Baptiste and Figgy sat at a table at a convenient restaurant located down the street from the executive terminal at Teterboro Airport. They were trying to be prudent in their eating and so had each ordered blackened salmon on cream-sauced pasta, but had the chef hold the pasta and substitute broccoli. It was boring for a Frenchman but perhaps more palatable to Figgy, Baptiste wasn't sure. It had been three long and hectic days since Baptiste had left France, on a flight to New York-the one following the flight taken by Benoit Moreau.

"Once we're on that plane, we've got no control."

"Wouldn't you want it that way if you were Gaudet?" Baptiste replied.

"There are better ways to meet people."

"It seems to me that we need him more than he needs us. As I see it, he makes money with or without us. He just makes more with us. Without him I don't see us making any thing."

"That's not true. What about the copy of Bowden's 1998 journal you're waiting for? Is that nothing?"

"We won't know until we've had a chance to study it."

"Does the admiral know you're about to get the journal?"

Baptiste looked at Figgy as if he'd lost his mind. "No, and he won't until I'm ready. I need you to understand this. Gaudet is a shield, a… How do you say? A prophylactic for us. We need to convince my government that Gaudet stole the journal. Not you, and certainly not me. We're just making a deal with him."

"A deal with Gaudet?"

"It's complicated, but it'll work. Benoit will handle it all through a Swiss escrow. She knows Gaudet and we don't." Baptiste changed the subject to an unpleasant topic before Figgy could protest. "You killed Sam's man. A guy he probably liked."

"What the hell are you bringing that up for? It's old news. When he recognized me, I had no choice. The man attacked me!" Figgy's face had grown red. "Where are you going with this?"

"We need you either all the way in or all the way out. All the way in means trusting me to run this show. It also means letting Gaudet execute his Cordyceps plan against the U.S."

"You're a crazy motherfucker, Baptiste. That was never part of the deal. We were supposed to sell the technology to a foreign government. That's it."

Baptiste clucked his tongue and shook his head, and when Figgy had quieted, he explained the plan to multiply their cut of the deal as laid out by Benoit Moreau. "To really make money, we need Cordyceps to happen."

"It seems you and Benoit have thought of everything. I hope you two haven't outsmarted yourselves. You know she was Gaudet's lover-probably still is."

"And?"

"She could be with him right now discussing this deal!"

"You are completely out of your mind. I said you need to-"

"Whoa! Don't get touchy. You… you are in love, aren't you? Shit. In love with a black widow."

Baptiste stood and threw his napkin down. "That's enough! Worry about yourself, Meeks. Pay the bill and let's get out of here."

They waited at Executive Air at La Guardia for Gaudet to arrive. They noticed a sleek jet with large engines taxi up in front of the establishment and shut down.