Newman Sidetracked

1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 979-8-31780150-2
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 400 Seiten

Reihe: Sidetracked

The Golden Zephyr, a completely renovated and luxurious passenger train replicating travel from the era of the thirties, is taking its maiden journey from Chicago to Los Angeles. Then, two days into the trip, the train crashes into a station hundreds of miles from its last communication-with no one on board. Max Ross has been dispatched to find what others cannot: the location of the train's passengers and crew. But lack of ransom demands for the return of the illustrious passengers of the train leads Ross in another direction. He begins a chase after two double-crossing scam artists who, with an intricately designed plan, have stolen something from the train worth much more than any ransom. From the Rocky Mountains, then south into Mexico, Ross uses his wits coupled with help from a newspaper journalist to try and flush the two into the open.

Bob Newman is an 80-year-old Viet Nam veteran whose action-adventure novels pulse with the intensity of a life well lived, and an imagination that knows no bounds.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Newman, Bob

Leseproben

Chapter 1

The black Mercedes Benz S-class sedan passed through the open gates and quietly pulled in front of the large Spanish-style stucco home located in the north end of Chicago, Illinois. Two men, dressed in nearly identical black suits, instantly appeared and opened each of the two rear doors, allowing the two occupants to emerge from the vehicle.

From the left rear door, a man slipped out, looking around without any apparent interest, and not acknowledging the man holding the door for him. From the right side a woman emerged, tall and slender, offering her hand for assistance as she swung her long legs across the seat.

Once outside the vehicle they both walked briskly toward the steps leading to the front entry of the large mansion. Escorts awaited on both sides of the doorway to guide them to the proper room for the meeting to which they had been summoned. Both passengers of the late-arriving automobile gave an impression of importance, a certain aloofness, as they walked behind their guides from the spacious foyer and down a long entry hall.

At the end of the hall, they were motioned into a book-lined study; chairs being pulled out and held until they were comfortably seated. The staff members quickly disappeared through a side door as the two sat facing each other, only a few feet from the end of a twenty-foot-long golden oak conference table.

The two sat as casually as was possible as they waited. The man cast glances around the room taking in at least three cameras that were certainly meant to be concealed. He knew there was more.

Both also knew why they were here. They had planned this meeting from the beginning. They had orchestrated the reason for this meeting carefully. And now an overzealous attitude could give away the game. They had to be known as merely contract help, nothing more.

They sat in silence five more minutes before hearing a massive, paneled door open at the far end of the room. A servant stepped in and moved to one side, allowing a heavy-set man with thin, snow-white hair, to enter. He was dressed impeccably in a silver-gray suit complemented with a deep red tie.

Neither person at the table had any doubt that this was the man they had come to see.

He sat in a chair at the end of the table in what was certainly the chair he used for all the meetings here, and studied first the man, then the woman. He boasted of himself as a superb judge of character, although here, this was mainly accredited to the fact that he had had a thorough background check run on these two. At least as thorough as was possible in his world. His arrogance would still allow him to take the credit for his choice.

After pausing a moment longer and placing his hands on the table, he began.

“Ms. Collier. Mr. Walker. I’m glad you’re here. May I offer you a drink? Perhaps some cognac? Wine?”

“No, thank you,” the woman answered. The man merely shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

“Very well. Then we can get right to business. I must say though, Ms. Collier, that I was simply not prepared to be in the company of such an extremely beautiful woman,” he stated with a slight smile on his lips.

And Sandra Collier was a striking woman. She had been a professional model for most of her adult life, but as her youth faded and the slimmer more “in and thin” girls took over the industry, she had realized reluctantly that the end was near for her in the business. And looking at her bank account, she knew she had not been satisfactorily compensated. The money her talents and looks had generated had gone mostly to agencies and the agents that worked for them. She had been nothing more than a money-making tool for them. An object to buy, sell, and exploit.

The tiny wrinkles had become more difficult to hide each day, and the modeling offers lessened to the point of unsuitable income. She was fighting a losing battle against the younger, more saleable girls with their glistening smiles, and their naivete that in turn lowered their prices. Then, as she watched herself slide from demand in the only world she had ever known, her world abruptly changed.

For five years she had taken as a lover her agent, loyal in believing that her next big break would come through him. She had entered her apartment earlier than usual one afternoon and had caught him in her bed with another model. To heighten the pain, the model was of course much younger than she, perhaps a girl of only nineteen. This further increased the stress in Sandra Collier’s life at the time, and in a moment of near-complete insanity, she had taken the small pistol carried in her purse and shot them both.

Fortunately, the shock of the kill was over in seconds, the thoughts of her own survival taking command. She had tossed the weapon onto the bed, grabbed only two changes of clothes, and set fire to the apartment. From the opposite side of the street amongst other bystanders, she had watched the building burn nearly completely.

Two days later the local newspaper had carried the story, and she was almost amused to see her own name as one of the victims.

A new identity had been established after moving to another city and her life began anew, but this time around she was determined it would be for a bigger share of the profits. She had at first tried various minor scams, her sheer beauty helping to secure her trust in her “marks”, and finding she did well at this, upped the ante.

The wealthy tourists looking for great deals on the beaches of Italy and Greece were generally easy prey for a beautiful woman trying desperately to sell her condo on the waterfront, always at a considerable loss-of course. She would have at hand the necessary paperwork that looked authentic and would show all the rooms as though they held special memories for her.

The properties she usually rented for a week or two at a time, and thus far had shown handsome profits on every unit she had “sold”. One disadvantage was keeping on the move lest she should accidentally bump into a former mark. Sandra Collier had done well, but it was time to move to another continent.

She had met the man, now sitting across from her at the table, while boarding a plane enroute to the United States. David Walker, at least the only name she knew him by, had spotted her “working” an elderly gentleman in a hotel lounge one evening in London. Walker, being basically in the same “business”, had kept tabs on her for a few days taking in her technique and smooth style. Recognizing her talents and needing an accomplice for other ventures where a suitable partner was required, he had approached her as she prepared to leave London, her sale of a luxury flat overlooking the Thames being successful.

He had boarded the same flight to New York, manipulated a seat next to hers, and by the time they landed she was convinced a trial partnership was worth a try.

Walker had outlined several ideas he’d had that could only work if there were two principals involved in the scam, and it all had paid off. Their business relationship was now in its fourth year.

The match was a good one. They were both dedicated to the end result of their projects which, of course, was profit. Although the thrill of the hunt and kill was ingrained in each. She had introduced him to the advantage of theatrical makeup, sometimes the disguises elaborate, but effective. His main contribution was the detailed planning he could provide, thinking thoroughly through each move and play until he was certain all would work successfully. The precautions and safeguards he built into each job were standard procedure. Nothing was ever left to chance.

Walker, the master planner, and Collier, so adept at disguise that she could sometimes fool even him, were a team. And they protected this team to the extent of not allowing anyone to know who they really were. They avoided being seen publicly together and spent their only time together planning an upcoming job. Such was the case now. And this was their biggest project; one that would secure their retirement from the constant vigil of being spotted by a previous mark as well as the authorities. After all, ultimately it would happen.

Now they both sat in front of a man who was their next mark. He knew nothing of their partnership, a business relationship had recommended Walker, and Walker in turn had suggested Ms. Collier based on her own reputation. Walker had even waited a full week before “locating” her, the deception again, complete.

She looked directly into the man’s eyes, hearing the compliment most familiar to her since her beauty had begun to blossom, now so long ago. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You obviously have met Mr. Walker,” he said. “He reports that you have been most successful in your endeavors.” The man paused for a moment, as though deciding where to begin. “Now to business. I’m sure you’re anxious to get started. And my plane is being readied for you as we speak.” He pulled open a drawer built into the table and removed two envelopes. He passed one to each of his new temporary employees. They both laid the envelopes in front of them. “Mr. Walker did insist on an equal split. I assume therefore he must be convinced of the quality of your work, Ms. Collier. This short-lived partnership pleases me. I am quite sure that this project will go as planned and be beneficial to us all.” He paused again before continuing. “As for anything you might not yet know, allow me to explain what I can. Unfortunately, due to the business I am in, paranoia is built-in to my daily life. It becomes an insurance, if you will,...