Run into Trouble

sales.”
    “Same thing. The U.S. Government is our biggest customer.”
    “What can you sell the government to fend off an invasion by sea?”
    “My, you are inquisitive. One would think that you’re a stockholder.”
    “I’m a taxpayer. I want to know where my tax money’s going.”
    When Fred laughed, he jiggled all over like a plate of aspic salad. “We’ve developed a mini submarine that could be used to patrol the coast. It’s much less expensive to build and operate than a nuclear sub, of course, and only requires a crew of six. If there’s an enemy ship out there, these subs could be used to find it.”
    “Have you sold any?”
    “The Navy purchased a few to try out, but we’re trying to sell them a whole fleet.”
    “What does my father have to do with all this? He’s retired, or supposed to be. He’s not a stockholder in Giganticorp, is he?”
    “Giganticorp is privately held, and the names of our stockholders are confidential.”
    Drake faked a yawn. “Okay, you’ve given me the company line; now tell me the truth.”
    “My gosh, Drake, you’re persistent.” Fred’s smile was meant to be conspiratorial. “All right, here’s the scoop. No, Admiral Drake isn’t a stockholder. He’s a concerned citizen. He’s also a good friend of Senator Leffingwell.”
    Drake didn’t know that. Leffingwell was a senator from California. Drake had tried to isolate himself from politics the last few years. His knowledge of the senator was sketchy. A small shaft of light penetrated his brain.
    “He must be the member of a key Senate committee for approving military purchases.”
    “You’re not as dumb as you look. There’s more. As you know, Casey is running for the other Senate seat next year.”
    “He wants Leffingwell’s endorsement.”
    “Bingo. Give that man a silver cigar.”
    It made sense. Sort of. One thing still puzzled Drake. “How did you get my father to drive down here from Bakersfield on such short notice?”
    “We told him what happened to you.”
    “Nothing happened to me. It happened to Harrison and Danny.”
    “No, I meant the accident with the truck. Of course, we also mentioned that you were close to the houses when they were shelled.”
    “Wait a minute. You’re saying my father drove here because he was concerned about my welfare?”
    “Yup.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “He’s your father, Drake. He loves you.”
    “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
    Drake went to the bar and came back with two more beers. He was trying to think of how to broach the next subject. Perhaps the introduction of his father into the scheme of things gave him some leverage. He lifted his glass. “To a successful race.”
    “Hear, hear.”
    Fred clicked glasses with him. They each swallowed a mouthful of beer. Drake put down his glass. “I’d like to talk about something else for a minute. Since the run started, I’ve received two anonymous letters delivered to motels.”
    Fred’s eyebrows went up. “Anonymous?”
    His expression looked innocent.
    “Yes. Threatening letters.”
    “What did they say?”
    “The more recent one says that Melody and I have to win the race.”
    “What have you done with them?”
    “The letters say not to tell anyone.”
    “You’ve told me. Why don’t you give me the letters, and I’ll look into them?”
    Drake no longer had the originals. Even if he had them, he wouldn’t have given them to Fred.
    “I’ve stored them in a safe place. If anything happens to me, they’ll be turned over to the authorities.”
    Fred regarded him. “Someone wants you to win the race.”
    “You know how much chance there is of that.”
    “You’ve moved into ninth place. A few more attacks and you’ll be in first place.”
    Drake stared at Fred.
    “Sorry. Bad joke. Look, if there’s anything I can do… I’ve tried to get you the best medical care, but I can’t run for you.”
    “I just wanted you to know.”
    Drake tried to look into Fred’s brain, but he was met with a bland expression that shielded his thoughts.
    Fred spoke. “We’re going to step up the pace a little. Each day’s distance is going to be closer to a marathon. We don’t want to drag this out too long. Everybody’s reasonably healthy. I think you can handle it.”
    “It’s not a problem for me.”
    Drake wondered whether Fred had been keeping the distances down to favor him, just as Casey had ordained that the first day’s run wouldn’t count.
     
    CHAPTER