about your home. The town in which you were born and lived as a child.”
“I have told you. It was nothing. Just a small village.”
Taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, the older man slowly opened it and spread it out on his knees.
“I have a map of your small village here. Would you please show me where your house was?”
For a while it seemed as if the man had no intention of answering. Then, with a sigh, he straightened up and looked down at the paper.
“This is not right,” he said.
“I know it is not accurate, but please try to see it the way you remember it. Can you show me where your house was?”
Looking down at the hand drawn map, he frowned. “This word here... It means water?”
“A well, yes.”
“Then our house was here.”
Chapter 6: Diving into Records
The next morning, Tamara was up early and heading towards the administration building as a few early arriving cars trickled into the parking lot. She found the cafeteria had just opened, and she dined on huevos rancheros, which she found to be quite good. Twenty minutes later she was at her desk, ready to begin her audit.
‘God, I hope they aren’t hiding anything,’ she muttered to herself. ‘I hate when things get nasty and I have to nail people to the wall.’
She chuckled because that was not exactly true. She loved nailing people to the wall – if they tried deliberately to slip something past her. Honest mistakes were another thing and usually dealt with in a kinder manner. Truth was, she enjoyed the hunt when she sensed something was amiss. A challenge, a battle of wits, the bad guys vs. the good auditor – that sort of thing.
And so she plunged into the books, records, computer files, and anything else she could get her hands on that might tell her the story of how this project was spending the money granted to them. And a large amount of money it was, larger than most research projects funded by the OSI, DOD or any other government agency. She was humming to herself as she began tracing fund allocations within the project.
It was not until the afternoon of the second day of the audit that she began to sense something was not quite kosher.
Chapter 7: Late Night Meeting
Three men met in a quiet office long after business hours. It might have been an executive’s office; good quality furniture, soft carpet and a widow looking out over to the scattered lights of the city. In the distance, an airliner was tracing its path over houses and businesses, lowering all the time as it approached the long line of lights marking the airport. Only one lamp was turned on in the office, as if these three wished to meet in darkness in hopes no one would see them.
The oldest man was heavy set, doubled chinned and a bulging waist that even the expensive black suit could not hide. On the pudgy fingers was a large gold ring bearing a dark red ruby and the chi-rho symbol on both sides. He sat in the chair behind the desk, filling it so much that it creaked every time he moved.
The second man stood behind the fat one in an attitude of subservience. His clothing was also black. He was late thirties, slender of build and marked with a forlorn face and thinning hair.
The third man was standing before the desk, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot and glancing at the window every few seconds as if worried that someone was watching. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands.
“Please tell the... us what you told me before,” said the man behind the chair.
The chair creaked as the fat man leaned forward, his dark eyes intent upon the nervous one.
“I... Well, you see, I work at...”
Once started, he blurted out the essential fact he had come to say, then spent the next few minutes trying
“I have told you. It was nothing. Just a small village.”
Taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, the older man slowly opened it and spread it out on his knees.
“I have a map of your small village here. Would you please show me where your house was?”
For a while it seemed as if the man had no intention of answering. Then, with a sigh, he straightened up and looked down at the paper.
“This is not right,” he said.
“I know it is not accurate, but please try to see it the way you remember it. Can you show me where your house was?”
Looking down at the hand drawn map, he frowned. “This word here... It means water?”
“A well, yes.”
“Then our house was here.”
Chapter 6: Diving into Records
The next morning, Tamara was up early and heading towards the administration building as a few early arriving cars trickled into the parking lot. She found the cafeteria had just opened, and she dined on huevos rancheros, which she found to be quite good. Twenty minutes later she was at her desk, ready to begin her audit.
‘God, I hope they aren’t hiding anything,’ she muttered to herself. ‘I hate when things get nasty and I have to nail people to the wall.’
She chuckled because that was not exactly true. She loved nailing people to the wall – if they tried deliberately to slip something past her. Honest mistakes were another thing and usually dealt with in a kinder manner. Truth was, she enjoyed the hunt when she sensed something was amiss. A challenge, a battle of wits, the bad guys vs. the good auditor – that sort of thing.
And so she plunged into the books, records, computer files, and anything else she could get her hands on that might tell her the story of how this project was spending the money granted to them. And a large amount of money it was, larger than most research projects funded by the OSI, DOD or any other government agency. She was humming to herself as she began tracing fund allocations within the project.
It was not until the afternoon of the second day of the audit that she began to sense something was not quite kosher.
Chapter 7: Late Night Meeting
Three men met in a quiet office long after business hours. It might have been an executive’s office; good quality furniture, soft carpet and a widow looking out over to the scattered lights of the city. In the distance, an airliner was tracing its path over houses and businesses, lowering all the time as it approached the long line of lights marking the airport. Only one lamp was turned on in the office, as if these three wished to meet in darkness in hopes no one would see them.
The oldest man was heavy set, doubled chinned and a bulging waist that even the expensive black suit could not hide. On the pudgy fingers was a large gold ring bearing a dark red ruby and the chi-rho symbol on both sides. He sat in the chair behind the desk, filling it so much that it creaked every time he moved.
The second man stood behind the fat one in an attitude of subservience. His clothing was also black. He was late thirties, slender of build and marked with a forlorn face and thinning hair.
The third man was standing before the desk, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot and glancing at the window every few seconds as if worried that someone was watching. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands.
“Please tell the... us what you told me before,” said the man behind the chair.
The chair creaked as the fat man leaned forward, his dark eyes intent upon the nervous one.
“I... Well, you see, I work at...”
Once started, he blurted out the essential fact he had come to say, then spent the next few minutes trying
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