Jake looked down at the dark flowing water. "Maybe we should work together on this case," he said. "I could use your help."
Herb was thinking it over.
"Herb, do you know that Gunter and his boys tried to blow me away Friday?" Jake asked.
Herb flicked his head up quickly. "No!"
"It's personal now. I'm a professional, but nobody shoots at me without some sort of return fire. Bullets or prosecution, that's up to the guilty bastard who tries it."
There was silence for a moment. Only the swishing of the Rhine and an occasional squawk from a duck.
Finally, Jake asked, "I'm looking for an American tech rep named Charlie Johnson. Works at Bitburg Air Base for an American contractor named Teredata International Semiconductors. I work for the president of that company out of Portland."
After a few moments of hesitation, Herb finally said, "Charlie Johnson is dead."
"Shit! Are you sure?"
"Yes. I saw Gunter and two others knock him silly and throw him into the Rhine last week in Koblenz," Herb said." I was tailing Gunter and his men because I got a tip about Bundenbach buying up some restricted American technology. Johnson was selling something to Gunter. Jake, I keep looking down at the Rhine to see if I can see him floating by. I know it's impossible, but your mind does strange things sometimes."
"Why did Gunter kill Johnson?" Jake asked." I mean, without him the supply link is broken."
"Maybe…maybe not. Maybe Gunter found another supplier. Or maybe Johnson asked for more money. Gunter doesn't need a good reason to kill, not even a reason."
"Did you file a report with the Polizei in Koblenz?" Jake asked.
Herb shook his head slowly back and forth.
"Why not?"
He started to speak and then hesitated. "Because I was pretty drunk at the time. I need to stay on this case. My boss would have pulled me and forced me to retire. Besides, the way Gunter and his men did it, they may never find the body. No body, no case against Gunter. Only the word of a drunken fool."
"So, can we work together on this one?" Jake asked, looking Herb straight in the eye.
Herb turned to look at the swollen Rhine and the hungry ducks, and then back at Jake. "Yes!"
CHAPTER 14
Milton Swenson picked up the papers on Bundenbach Electronics from the oak coffee table and leaned back on the plush white sofa. He had personally accessed the Moody's network on his computer the night before and gotten this information for Jake Adams. What was Bundenbach up to?
The sharp sound of knuckles echoed through the large wooden door to the room. Before Milt could answer, Steve Carlson entered swiftly and sat down at the other end of the large couch. Milt could tell from his heavily wrinkled forehead and tightened lips that something was wrong.
"What's the matter?" Milt asked.
"I've been trying all morning to call Jake, but can't seem to reach him."
"He's not at Birkwald anymore," Milt said. "He called last night and told me he was scrapping the original plan. He found out who's been after our stuff."
Steve Carlson rose, partially crossed his arms, and stroked his full black and gray beard. "Well?"
Milt shuffled the papers together as a deck of cards and handed them to Steve. "A company called Bundenbach Electronics out of Bonn. I sent Jake the Moody's listing for background information."
He hesitated for a moment. "Never heard of Bundenbach. They must not be too big," Steve said as he handed the papers back without looking at them.
"I think they're an up and comer," Milt said. He paused and studied his old friend. "They could be making a move on the avionics market. Their electronics branch deals mostly in tanks and helicopters for NATO equipment, so they might be trying to compete in the next round of NATO aircraft development. Our new chips could give them a great advantage over the Brits and French."
Steve Carlson paced to the gas fireplace, picked up a beer stein from the mantle, looked at the bottom, and then placed it back in its original spot.
"Do you know where Adams will go next?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder at Milt.
"No! He seems to think it's best if we don't know."
"I see."
"What's wrong, Steve?"
"I don't know. You know I didn't want to hire Adams. I'm sure we could have found out what was going on without him."
"I don't think so," Milt said, as he got up from the couch. "Not many people know Germany like Jake."
Even though Milt and Steve had worked together for years, Milt knew that Steve felt somewhat indignant toward him. But it was Steve who had given up his partnership status, started his own company, gone bankrupt, and then come back to him for a job.
"What's wrong, Steve?" Milt asked again.
Steve paced a few times near the flames of the gas fireplace trying to bring warmth to his body and what he was about to tell Milt.
"We've got another leak," Steve finally said.
"What?"
"I know. It sounds impossible. I feel like the little Dutch boy sticking his finger in the dike. But I just got a call from Washington. The Navy says someone is quickly snatching up our new chips for the A-7 avionics upgrade. They want us to halt the supply chain."
"I can't believe this shit is happening," Milt screeched. "How in the fuck can their security be that horse shit."
"If the Air Force finds out about our problems in Germany, they're going to ask us the same question."
Milt walked over to the bar and poured two glasses of gin. He plopped two Alka Seltzer in one glass and watched the bubbles and foam rise like some mad scientist's concoction. In a few seconds, he took a long sip.
"I still don't know how you can stand to drink that," Steve said.
"It grows on you. Give me the specifics on what the Navy had to say."
Steve hesitated for a minute, took a sip of his gin, and then began. "Well, first of all, one of our technical advisors from Florida was at a meeting Friday with a group of Navy brass. Some under secretary started spouting off about how our equipment was failing at an unacceptable rate, and how the American people are paying all this money to upgrade the aging A-7. So this guy won't shut up about it. Our guy is getting kind of embarrassed, because he doesn't know what in the hell this guy is talking about. He's heard nothing but praise about the new A-7 retrofit. And besides, as you know, the A-7 is only a test-bed for the Joint Strike Fighter. Finally, this other guy, a Navy Captain, comes over and tells this guy to shut his mouth."
"So, how did you find out we have equipment missing?"
"This Captain Murphy notices our guy is looking nervous, so he takes him aside and tells him we need to cut our supply of high speed avionics chips to the Navy."
"Did the Captain give any specifics on the location of the leak?" Milt asked. "I mean, it could only be from the Jacksonville squadron. But he must have mentioned some specifics."
"Actually, he said it's from the squadron detachment currently deployed aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The ship is now somewhere near Italy," Steve said.
"Great! Now we have to try to plug two holes in two countries. I need to get the word to Jake, somehow." He pointed at Steve. "This is why I didn't want them to take the retrofit aircraft to Europe."
Milt sat slowly onto his white couch again. He watched the bubbles rise quickly to the top of his drink and appear to dance across its surface. He imagined his blood coursing through his body, upward, trying to burst through the top of his skull.
Milt got up impatiently and went to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. He gazed down at the Willamette River over thirty stories below his penthouse office. He pondered how he had built Teredata International Semiconductors from scratch, and was now the Chief Executive Officer on the leading edge of computer technology. He pinched the stomach bulge that worked its way over his fifty dollar belt. He had been so athletic. How could he have let himself get so far out of shape?