Page 46 of Wild Oblivion

“As you can imagine, after the war, von Markov was considered at-large and high value. For decades, intel officers searched for him and others. Six months ago, someone accessed a Swiss numbered account that had been dormant since the war.” She showed me an image from a security camera. The man in the picture looked strikingly similar to Klaus Brenner, or Klaus von Markov, whichever you believe. “Our advanced facial recognition algorithms determined that to be Klaus von Markov. That determination was made based on known photographs.”

I shook my head. “It’s his grandson.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps.” Then she showed me another photo. “Here’s the same man walking out of the bank with a suitcase and a full satchel. If you compare that to the first image, you’ll notice that the satchel is full upon his departure.”

I studied the image.

“A few days later, a man matching von Markov’s description cashed in stock certificates now worth $1.3 billion dollars through a broker in Zurich. As you can imagine, that kind of money buys anonymity, fake passports, and just about anything else a person could want.”

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t believe that somebody traveled through time, then walked into a bank over half a century later and cashed out.”

“Truth can sometimes be stranger than fiction, Deputy.”

I sighed, acknowledging the possibility.

“Whether it’s fact or fiction, it’s my job to analyze the intel, assess the threat level, then act accordingly,” Novak said. “All the available science tells us that this is theoretically possible, under certain conditions. We believe that this gentleman,” she said, referencing the photo of Klaus with the suitcase, “is in possession of the time dilation device. Whether he is Klaus von Markov or his grandson matters not. What matters is the threat that arises if someone should have the ability to travel into the past and alter historical events. According to people a lot smarter than me, the only way that can be accomplished is through the use of?—“

“Negative energy.”

She seemed a little surprised, but at the same time, not. “So we are on the same page. Strauss must be protected, and the Vrilkristall must be kept safe. I don’t need to tell you the Russians, the Chinese, and every other foreign intelligence agency are looking for that crystal.”

“You’re aware of the attempted kidnapping of Henrik.”

“It’s one of the reasons why I am here, and why I want to ensure his safety.” She paused. “You may not believe this is real or possible. That doesn’t matter to me. I must take all national security threats as credible until proven otherwise.”

We stared each other down for a long moment.

“As you’re aware, I have no law-enforcement authority,” she said. “I rely on the FBI, local police, county sheriff’s offices, and other law-enforcement agencies to facilitate my goals. Now, can I count on your cooperation, or do I need to pull someone else into the mix?”

22

Henrik sat on the sofa in the Pineapple Cabana, staring at the TV with the volume muted. Completely zoned out, he didn’t respond to any of Officer Novak’s questions.

“Mr. Strauss, it’s really important we speak,” Novak said, almost shouting.

I didn’t bother to tell her he wasn’t deaf.

Henrik didn’t respond.

“Mr. Strauss, I need to talk to you about Projekt Zeitspiegel.”

Henrik remained blanked out.

Novak muttered to me, “Is he always like this?”

“Pretty much.”

“Henrik, I need to know where the Vrilkristall is?”

Still nothing.

She tried to get his attention a few more times, waving her hands in front of his face, snapping her fingers. Henrik remained catatonic. He didn’t even blink.

“I told you it was a waste of time,” I said.

“How do you manage with him?” Her voice was thick with frustration.

“He’s in and out. Mostly out.”