System Corruption. Don Pendleton
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу System Corruption - Don Pendleton страница 8
Название: System Corruption
Автор: Don Pendleton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Gold Eagle Executioner
isbn: 9781472085306
isbn:
Jacob Ordstrom, who had started his monolithic empire in a tin shed, meant to remain in his current position. There was too much to lose. He had used violence and double-dealing during his rise to power. It would lose him no sleep to have to use them again.
“Do you think Carella will turn the file in?” he asked his security man.
“No doubt there, sir. Carella is a decent man. That won’t allow him to ignore what he’s found. It’s why he made those copies.”
“Maybe he’s going to blackmail us. Ask for money.”
Hoekken shook his head. “Not Carella. Not his style.”
“Fuck his style, Arnie. Make his new one dead . Get it done.”
Before Hoekken had reached the door Ordstrom was reaching for his private phone. He had to make some calls. The sooner he alerted certain people, steps could be taken to keep the situation under wraps.
He heard the phone ringing, heard the soft sound as it was picked up. Ordstrom swiveled his chair around so he could stare out through the window.
“Morning, Clarence,” he said. “We need to meet. Right away. Fine, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”
I N HIS OWN OFFICE , down the hall from Ordstrom’s, Arnold Hoekken was making calls of his own. He had contacts who were on retainer. Now was the time they could start to earn that money. Hoekken’s calls were to disposable, unregistered cell phones presented to the contacts against the day their services would be required.
Like now .
He finished his calls and received one of his own. Ordstrom summoned him back to his office.
“C OME ON IN , A RNIE ,” Ordstrom said.
Hoekken stepped inside and closed the door. He acknowledged the pudgy-faced man sitting in front of Ordstrom’s desk.
“Clarence is the reason for the problem we have. He was supposed to delete ASP22. It was one of your assignments, Clarence, but you made a mess of it and now we are in trouble.”
“Why?” Clarence Mitchelberg asked.
“Why?” Ordstrom smiled at the other’s naiveté. “Because if the data falls into the wrong hands and we find ourselves being investigated they might uncover our other activities. Like the backdoor arms sales to unfriendly regimes. The financial deals we’ve handed out to foreign undesirables. Oh, let’s not forget the money laundering operations we run through OTG’s books for our foreign customers. All extremely lucrative and all of them fucking illegal. As well you know. Plus the manufacture of below-specification protective plating.”
“It won’t happen, Jacob,” Mitchelberg said. “This can be smoothed over to protect you.”
Ordstrom leaned forward, anger blazing in his eyes.
“ You protect me? ” he snapped, jabbing a finger at Mitchelberg. “It’s because of your ineptitude we are in this mess. You were responsible for deleting those files. You made a fuck job of it. Instead of following through you let the computer finish off so you could go home early. You, Clarence, are an asshole. A fucking joke. Right, Arnie?”
Hoekken nodded. “He’s right, Clarence.”
It became very quiet in the room.
Mitchelberg sank back in his armchair, looking as if he wanted it to swallow him.
“I believe we’ve said all we need to. Arnie, would you arrange for Clarence’s car to be brought to the front. I think he’s ready to leave for the day. He seems to have something on his mind. Clarence, go home. Keep out of my sight until I send for you.”
After Mitchelberg had left the office Ordstrom leaned back in his seat. “Early retirement?” he suggested.
Hoekken nodded. “Very early,” he agreed.
The following day Clarence Mitchelberg’s body was found at the side of the road, close to his home. As far as the police investigation could make out, Mitchelberg was the victim of a hit-and-run. There were no witnesses.
5
“Colonel Stone, Special Agent, Army CID,” Bolan said, showing the holder carrying the badge and his ID card. “Here on official business, Corporal Huston. This is an unannounced inspection.”
The sentry at the gate of the Camp Macklin Texas military base checked the ID and the man sitting at the wheel of the gleaming black Crown Victoria. The ID stated that Brandon Stone was indeed a colonel in the Army Criminal Investigation Division. Carl Huston knew enough about the investigators from CID not to screw around with the man…. On the other hand he also knew they expected professional conduct from anyone who came into contact with them. Huston threw a sharp, by-the-book salute. One look at the grim-faced colonel and Huston knew the guy was for real.
“So you are not expected, sir?” he asked.
Mack Bolan took the ID back, giving the sentry a cold stare.
“If I let everyone know I was coming I’d never catch them in the act, would I, Corporal?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s why it is designated as an unannounced inspection. You go about your duties, Huston. I’ll inform those who need to know that I’m here.” Bolan nodded in the direction of the barrier and waited until Huston pressed the button to raise it. “Carry on, Corporal.”
Huston watched the car drive onto the base. He lowered the barrier as he stepped back inside the hut. His hand reached for the phone, then drew back. If he let the base commander know CID was on the way, Stone would know. Colonel Bosley was a good CO, but he was no gung-ho hard man. Bosley liked things to run quiet and smooth. And he was no actor. The moment Stone walked into his office Bosley would give himself away. Bosley might give Huston a dressing down later. That was preferable to upsetting a hard-ass like Stone, and definitely preferable to getting on the CID’s list as not being trustworthy.
B OLAN FOLLOWED THE marked signs that showed the way to Camp Macklin’s HQ building. It had been some time since he had set foot on a military base. It had been a longer time since he had been in the service himself, but the feeling was still there—the sense of belonging to the extended family that permeated the base. It never left a man once he had worn the uniform.
Bolan studied the buildings, the neat layout of the place. In the distance he picked up the sound of men being drilled, the instructors’ commands carrying across the base. Time moved on but the very essence of military life remained constant. When he parked alongside the other vehicles outside the HQ building and stepped out, Bolan stood and let the ambience wash over him. Then he turned and strode toward the building, affecting the ingrained stance of a military man, despite being dressed in a civilian suit, white shirt and dark tie, the day-to-day uniform of a CID agent.
Walking into the outer office Bolan caught the attention of the army clerk behind one of the desks. The office was empty save for the young soldier.
“Colonel Stone, CID, to see Colonel Bosley,” СКАЧАТЬ