about seventy-five years old, smokes, drinks, and has had a tough life. Probably not much time left.” He paused and looked back at the piece of paper.
“One more thing. This guy for some reason is into clowns. There are comments in the file that he’s some sort of makeup artist. If there is any truth to that, he could be able to disguise himself to look like anybody. Hell, even a clown. What people do for a hobby, huh?” He laughed. “At my age, my hobby is not dying ’til I’m ninety.”
“If we find what we’re looking for, Colonel,” said Nick, “that just might happen.”
“My wife would love that.” He smirked as he turned to walk back to the tarmac. “Oh, POTUS says if you need anything, give him a call. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the president’s plane is waiting to take me to Tampa to buy my house.” He gave Nick a salute. “God, I love this country.”
Nick watched as the colonel’s Gulfstream taxied, then soared into the bright blue Georgia sky. He missed the excitement of hanging around the brass.
*****
A knock on Shelly’s office door vibrated the wood as she sat hunched over examining Mary’s latest test results. The sun had gone down hours before.
“Anyone home?” Nick said as he entered. He looked over at an empty desk. “Wall’s gone?”
“If it’s after six, Wall has left the building.” She smiled.
Nick fluttered some papers before her eyes, diverting her attention from the computer data on her desk.
“I have the report.”
“What report?” she asked, rising slightly to give him a kiss. “The Hans report I promised you.”
She sat up and looked into Nick’s eyes, searching for a clue to
what news he might have on the recluse.
“His name is Hans Bextal. We already knew that. And Wall was right. Not only is this guy German, a lot of his family were Nazis. The decoding project was top secret. Still is. A friend from DC gave me some info and most of it is still classified, but they could tell us