The Einstein Pursuit

47

Payne stared at the old man like he was crazy. ‘The Einstein Group? Never heard of it.’

The old man grinned. ‘That’s because our members are good at keeping secrets. Isn’t that right, Mattias?’

Payne turned and saw Sahlberg standing behind him. Left unguarded, he had taken it upon himself to exit the plane and approach the conversation. Between the hum of the engines and the assumption that Sahlberg would stay on the plane, Payne had never heard him coming.

‘That’s correct,’ Sahlberg said. He turned toward Payne to apologize. ‘I’m sorry, Jonathon. I couldn’t talk about the group until they gave me permission to do so. As I said on the plane, I’m hoping that’s what they’re here to do — to give me their blessing.’

‘It is,’ confirmed the old man. ‘But not like this. Please, join me inside the car, where we’ll have some privacy. We’ll have plenty of time to talk on the way to the mansion.’

‘The mansion?’ Payne asked.

‘I’m sure you’ll love it. It was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.’

Sahlberg didn’t wait for permission. He practically skipped toward the car, greeting the man inside like a long-lost brother. ‘It’s good to see you, Juan.’

‘You too, Mattias. It’s been years!’

Sahlberg glanced back at Payne. ‘Don’t just stand there, my boy. Come here and meet Juan Carlos Gambaro. He is our group’s most senior member, and one of the smartest men this world or any other has ever seen. Juan, this is Jonathon Payne.’

Payne waved but didn’t approach the car.

Too many thoughts were racing through his head.

The chauffeur opened the car door for Sahlberg, who climbed into the back seat, where he talked with Gambaro in rapid Spanish. If he didn’t know better, Payne would have assumed Sahlberg had grown up in Spain instead of Sweden. Gambaro laughed loudly — so loudly Payne was afraid the old man’s dentures were going to fly out of his mouth and land on the floor.

Payne cursed under his breath.

Sahlberg was forcing his hand.

He didn’t like it, but he was too curious to turn back now.

He raised his open hand and patted the top of his head. It was a signal to Jones that it was safe to join him. If he had tapped his closed fist against some part of his body — his leg or shoulder, for instance — Jones would have wounded his target in the corresponding area. And if Payne had pressed a closed fist against his head, Jones would have taken a kill shot.

Jones saw the signal and emerged from his hiding place behind the rear wheels of the plane. He jogged over to Payne’s side. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We’ve been invited to meet the Einstein Group.’

‘The Einstein Group? What the hell is that?’

‘I have no idea. Sahlberg is going to explain along the way.’

‘The way to where?’ Jones asked.

‘The mansion.’

‘The Playboy Mansion?’

‘Doubtful.’

Jones shrugged. ‘A boy can dream, can’t he?’

‘Dream later. We need to get our things.’

Payne and Jones ducked back inside the plane to grab their bags and provisions. That included ammo, two Smith & Wesson M1911 pistols, a short-barreled Mossberg shotgun, and a prototype Barrett sniper rifle that could be disassembled to fit neatly inside an inconspicuous briefcase. It was a gift from the Barrett family themselves, who considered Payne and Jones dear friends.

They also took a moment to change their clothes. Not because they were underdressed, but because their cotton shirts would do them no good in a firefight. Just to be safe, they pulled on specially designed polo shirts that had been woven from Kevlar fiber. This next-generation fabric couldn’t stop a high-caliber bullet at close range, but it could certainly deflect a ricochet and would keep a direct hit from cutting through the body. They might suffer a massive contusion or even break a rib, but the wound would not be fatal. Just as importantly, the shirts didn’t look like flak jackets. To the casual observer, they appeared as typical attire.

Still unsure if the Einstein Group could be trusted, they positioned themselves inside the car accordingly. The town car was an executive model, allowing Payne and Jones to sit in the rear seats, with Sahlberg and Gambaro facing them in the second row. Throughout the trip, Jones kept his pistol aimed at the back of the driver’s head, though the gun was shielded from view by the briefcase on his lap. This was his way of staying safe without insulting his host.

They made their way toward the mansion. Sahlberg smiled as he watched palm trees zip past the window. He seemed more at peace now than at any other point of their time together.

Meanwhile, Payne was the exact opposite. ‘Tell me about the Einstein Group.’

Gambaro leaned forward in his seat and drew close to his new friends. ‘How familiar are you with Albert Einstein?’

Jones shrugged. ‘Probably the most important scientist in the twentieth century. He completely revolutionized the way we look at modern physics.’

Payne nodded. ‘E equals MC squared.’

‘Oh, and he had a crazy Afro. Looked like a Chia Pet, only white.’

‘All true,’ Gambaro said, laughing, ‘but let’s go back a little farther. Before he won the Nobel Prize, Albert Einstein was making ends meet by offering private lessons in mathematics and physics. One of his pupils was a man named Maurice Solovine, a philosophy student. The relationship soon became a friendship, with Einstein and Solovine spending countless hours discussing the nature of philosophy. They quickly added Einstein’s neighbor — a mathematician named Conrad Habicht — to the conversations. For more than two years, the group met regularly at Einstein’s apartment in Switzerland to dissect the pre-eminent books written about philosophy and mathematics.’

‘You’re telling me the Einstein Group has been around since then?’ Payne asked.

‘No,’ Gambaro answered. ‘At least not in its current form. The original group — Einstein, Solovine and Habicht — only lasted a few years. And they weren’t known as the Einstein Group. They referred to themselves as the Olympia Academy. In their close-knit group, they were free to discuss anything, everything, without fear of ridicule. It was in this way that Einstein believed the biggest breakthroughs would materialize. And he was right.’

‘How so?’ Jones wondered. ‘You just said the group only lasted a few years, and I’ve never heard of the other two.’

‘The Olympia Group disbanded in 1905, but that didn’t stop Einstein from seeking out the top minds of his day. He would continue to meet with other scholars until the day he died. Always in private. Always without publicity.’

‘People like who?’

‘Robert Oppenheimer when he was working on the atom bomb. Watson and Crick while they searched for the structure of the DNA molecule. And Jonas Salk as well.’

‘But Einstein died fifty years ago,’ Payne said.

‘Man dies, but the spirit lives on,’ Gambaro said philosophically. ‘In Albert’s case, the spirit was to push the boundaries of accepted science. To challenge the limits of our accomplishments. He may have been the most celebrated embodiment of this ideal, but he certainly was not alone. After his death, others took up the mantle and led the charge into the unknown.’

‘And the financing?’ Payne asked.

‘There are people in the world who do not need their investments to produce returns,’ Gambaro explained. ‘Wealthy individuals who are willing to offer their resources in exchange for simply knowing that they contributed to the evolution of science.’