The Einstein Pursuit

31

Payne and Jones had known about Kaiser for more than a decade, but they didn’t really know him. No one did, which was one of the things that kept him alive.

Back in his former life as a supply sergeant, he had set up shop near the Kaiserslautern military community in eastern Germany. With more than 50,000 soldiers and civilian contractors, Kaiserslautern was the largest military base outside of the continental United States, but one of the trickiest to pronounce. To make things simple, American troops referred to it as ‘K-town’. And the man who could get them anything was known as Kaiser.

In the beginning, Kaiser had focused on the comforts of home — items that the displaced men and women of K-town had grown to miss, whether that be American food, clothing, movies or video games. And he sold the products at a fair yet profitable price. Then, much to his chagrin, the rise of the Internet meant he wasn’t the only game in town. Suddenly his clients could order almost anything online, so he was forced to shift his business in another direction.

Weapons. Smuggling. Fake IDs.

Pretty much everything except drugs.

Payne and Jones knew he operated beyond the limits of the law, but they had experienced enough during their time as MANIACs to know that even the noblest causes sometimes required the support of bullets, grenades and the occasional surface-to-air missile. Likewise, Kaiser had heard of their exploits, and he realized that men of their skills were good to know.

They had a mutual respect for one another.

Not a true friendship. More like allies.

The phone belonged to DJ, but Payne grabbed it first. He smiled at Jones, hit the correct line to answer the call, then put the phone to his ear, despite a loud protest from Jones.

Before he said a single word, he realized something was different about the call. Normal phone calls — regardless of whether they originated from a landline, a cell phone, a satellite phone, or through voice-over Internet protocol — carried some degree of ambient sound. The hum of a computer. The horns and sirens of traffic. Even the steady breathing of the caller. These were typical background noises that were layered into the signal. Even the newest noise-canceling technology left telltale traces of white noise. They were virtually inaudible, but they were not imperceptible.

This call was different. It wasn’t hollow, it was silent. It was as if the caller was standing in the vacuum of space. Payne quickly realized the call was being scrubbed — his word for when high-tech gadgetry was used to ensure that no one was listening in. He knew the caller was running the signal through a computer, routeing the call through a series of lines and servers while at the same time erasing any digital footprint that might lead back to him.

‘Hello?’ Payne finally said.

A brief pause followed. ‘David?’

Payne recognized the voice. ‘No, it’s Jon. I’m here with—’

‘Put David on the phone.’

Payne was somewhat startled by Kaiser’s abrupt demand. He knew they weren’t friends in the traditional sense, but they certainly weren’t strangers. In fact, if it weren’t for Payne, Kaiser would be missing a lot more than an eye. He would be missing the rest of his life.

Payne wondered what had changed since they had spoken last.

‘It’s for you,’ he said, confused. ‘It’s Kaiser.’

Jones took the handset. ‘Hello.’

‘Secondary site. Sixteen eighty-two. Three. Four. Two.’

In a flurry of mouse clicks and keystrokes, Jones directed his Internet browser to a specific web address. This secondary site, as Kaiser called it, was used to screen his communications. The location, which changed at irregular intervals, was encoded on the message board that Jones had used to reach him.

The location for that particular conversation was a website that allowed people to discuss children’s literature. Jones was to find the 1,682nd post in the numbered list, scroll to the third paragraph in that post, find the fourth sentence, and provide the second word. If he failed to do so, or if he took too long to do it, Kaiser would terminate the call.

Jones traced his finger down the screen. ‘I authenticate … Mockingbird.’

‘David! How are you?’ Just like that, Kaiser had gone from cryptic and paranoid to warm and welcoming. ‘It’s been far too long!’

‘I’m okay, how are you?’

‘Still got my eye on the prize,’ Kaiser joked.

‘Which is what, retirement?’

‘Forget about that. They’ll put me in the ground before I call it quits.’

Jones laughed at his choice of words. He knew Kaiser wasn’t referring to old age. He was referring to rival businessmen who were actively trying to put him in the ground. ‘Do you have time for a question or two? I’m here with Jon, and we were wondering—’

‘Please apologize to Jon for my shortness. I didn’t mean to come across like such an asshole, but I have to take precautions.’

‘He understands completely,’ Jones said without consulting Payne. ‘No offense taken.’

‘Good. Now what is it that I can answer for you?’

‘Well, I’m looking at a weapon.’

‘I can get you anything you need.’

‘No,’ Jones clarified, ‘I’m not placing an order. I’m looking at the actual piece. And I don’t need any more. I just need to figure out where it came from.’

‘What’s this world coming to when someone like you is coming to someone like me for gun advice? Don’t they teach this shit in the special forces anymore?’

Jones laughed. ‘They do, but this gun is kind of different.’

‘How different?’

‘It’s a one-off,’ Jones explained. ‘The build resembles the Beretta 92 platform, but it’s a complete custom. Right down to the grip length, trigger pull, and weighting.’

‘I could name fifty guys who might have put that together. Is there anything else to go on? How’s the finish? Some of them are great at design but go light on aesthetics. They figure that as long as the gun fires, the look doesn’t really matter. You’d be surprised how many tool marks you can find on some custom jobs. Everything from drill scuffs to swirls in the polished steel. Things like that can narrow it down.’

‘No,’ Jones assured him, ‘this gun is a thing of beauty.’

‘Well, you have to give me something.’

‘Not only is it beautiful, it has a biometric safety.’

‘You mean like a fingerprint scanner?’

‘A palm-print to be exact — built into the side of the grip.’

‘Mounted?’

‘Nope. It’s actually integrated into the gun’s design. Does that narrow the field?’

‘Considerably,’ Kaiser answered. ‘You’re talking about something that combines old-world smithing with new-age technology. There’s only two guys I can think of who would have the necessary skill and understanding to make something like that.’

‘Hang on,’ Jones said. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’m going to put you on speaker so that Jon can be a part of the conversation.’

‘Of course,’ Kaiser said.

Jones activated the speakerphone feature and hung up the handset. ‘You’re on with Jon.’

‘Hey, Jon.’

‘Hey, Kaiser. Nice chatting with you earlier,’ Payne teased.

‘Seriously, Jon, I’m sorry about that. I just—’

‘No worries. I’m just busting your balls. I understand the need for security.’

Kaiser breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I appreciate that.’

Jones got the conversation back on track. ‘You were saying there are only two gunsmiths that you know of who are capable of producing a weapon like this.’

‘I was.’

‘What can you tell us about them?’

‘Well, I have one of them on speed-dial. He’s been working on a, um, special project for me over the past year. I seriously doubt he’s responsible, but I can find out easy enough.’

Payne and Jones looked at each other. They both wanted to know what kind of ‘special project’ Kaiser was working on with one of the world’s best gunsmiths. They wondered if he was outfitting a rebel army or stockpiling merchandise for a Christmas sale.

With a man like Kaiser, it could be either.

‘Okay,’ Payne said. ‘Let’s assume for the time being that it’s not your guy. What do you know about the second possibility?’

‘His name is Yannick Holcher, and he lives in the hills of Luxembourg.’

In some ways, the location was ideal. The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg was situated in central Europe. From there, Holcher could take advantage of a broad range of clientele from the surrounding countries. Of course, if he was as talented as Kaiser claimed, his location didn’t matter. Gun enthusiasts would travel the world to possess the perfect weapon. Still, his decision to set up shop in one of the smallest countries in the world was worthy of an explanation.

‘Why Luxembourg?’ Payne wondered. ‘There are other places nearby that would give him much better opportunities. I would have to assume the market in Munich, or Zurich, or Prague would be much, much bigger.’

Kaiser agreed. ‘I’m quite familiar with the numbers, and you’re absolutely correct. He could reach a far bigger audience by moving his operation. In fact, it’s illegal to even own this kind of weapon in Luxembourg. Which means his clientele are mostly foreigners.’

‘Not exactly the best business model,’ Payne said.

‘But that means nothing to him. He’s not a transplant. He’s a Luxembourger, born and raised. From what I hear, he has no intention of leaving.’

‘Hell of a place to make a name for himself,’ Jones stated.

‘He doesn’t care about that either,’ Kaiser replied. ‘Oddly, he has no interest in recognition. In keeping with that, any gun he produces is simply known as a Wiltz, named after the only town in that part of the country. Legend has it that he was born there.’

‘And you think he’s our man? That this is one of his?’

‘The guy might be a little quirky, but he’s still the best in the business when it comes to marrying tried-and-true smithing techniques with modern technological advancements. I once saw a gun he designed that had a laser sight mounted inside the barrel. I’m still trying to figure out how he managed to do it.’

‘Sounds likes you’re envious. Maybe you should have hired him instead.’

‘Trust me, I tried. But he said he was all booked up, and that no amount of money could compete with what he was already being paid.’

Jones knew it was a long shot, but he had to ask. ‘Did he happen to mention a name?’

‘No such luck. He simply said the job would keep him busy for a very long time. Apparently the guy had ordered enough weapons to outfit a private militia.’

Payne and Jones stared at each other. If Kaiser’s information was accurate, it meant that Sahlberg was in a lot more danger than they had originally thought.

And so were they.