Page 38 - Unlikely Stories 5

The Robert N. Hood Foundation

Gisbourne grimaced. “But how—ah, I see.”
“That’s right: Marianne Ward, the attractive young agent who
infiltrated our organization about six months ago. She confirmed that
you were too arrogant to believe she could be turned. One of my
more persuasive lieutenants, Guillermo Scarlatti, a handsome fellow
about her age, did the trick in about two weeks. Since her little
identity crisis we have had a secure pipeline into Argus as well as
verbal reports of your activities and plans. She is already at the
airport—under another name, of course!—ready to begin life anew in
sunnier climes.”
“I don’t believe you!” sputtered Gisbourne. “Marianne is a
patriotic American! She would never help you crooks!” He knew he
had to play for time, keep them talking, while he worked his hands
against a knot which felt capable of further tightening—consequently
leaving the binding loop’s circumference capable of expansion.
Involuntarily he glanced at his belt, still wrapped firmly around his
waist.
“Forget it, buddy,” growled Firetruck. “You’re not getting any
backup. We knew the frequency to jam. Still think Marianne didn’t
tell us everything?”
Gisbourne felt the chill of perspiration evaporating from his brow.
He continued to push against the knot, making eye contact with each
man in rapid succession, distracting their gaze from the muscular
contractions of his forearms.
“She couldn’t. What do you take us for: amateurs? She only knew
what was necessary, that we followed the money trail from several
dozen very large identity thefts into a blank wall, that all we had to go
on were subsequent purchases of rain forest land by several
charitable trusts for roughly the same amounts, and that your
foundation had made the donations enabling those transactions. She
was sworn to the cause of justice—never showed the slightest
deviation from that devotion in any test—but she knows nothing
more about Argus, or any of my contingency plans. I’ve made
arrangements to roll up this bogus charity whether my signal went
through or not.”
“Bogus?” Hood shook his head sadly. “Of course you cannot
understand any motives but fear and greed; that is your temporary

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