Collision Course Read Free Page A

least a hundred documents and subfiles. Okay. The real meat of the
situation lay in those, hidden by additional codes. It stood to reason each
named file would be the same—a blanket for dozens of internal documents. They’d
require hours to crack and get what he needed.
    He went
to work on them but growled in frustration when each appeared to have its own
polyalphabetic encryption code. Who the fuck had Bennett used to set this up?
Someone he both trusted without qualification and paid well.
    He took
the first document and began to run it through the program. This one opened
much sooner. But halfway through it he realized his life could be in danger
just by knowing these things. Oh, transactions were well disguised unless you
knew what to look for and how to find it. Which Trey did.
    Holy
shit!
    In the
first document alone, he found records of massive amounts of money being moved
into the account under the guise of philanthropic contributions to help Third
World countries. He traced the destinations of so-called grants through banks
in Nigeria and Kenya and even the Middle East. And Mexico! Since when did people
call Mexico a Third World country?
    Drugs .
It had to be, at least a good part of it. He’d read enough about cartel
operations to know most of their finances were hidden in money laundering
activities. Bennett owned a controlling interest in some overseas banks. Were
they involved? Could he be laundering money for drug cartels? Or was there more
to it?
    The
second document opened a little easier. The more he uncovered, the sicker he
got. He’d just touched the tip of the iceberg and his imagination was running
away with him, but Trey was no dummy. The phone call had opened a real can of
worms for him. The more he discovered, the more he wondered if he should
contact his friend in Homeland Security now. Words like terrorists and treason
danced through his brain.
    But I
need definitive proof. I need to get into more of those protected accounts. And
the ones the program isn’t able to open.
    He took
one break, watching his room and the parking lot as he fed quarters into the
soft drink machine for a couple of cans of cola. He hoped they’d settle his
stomach as well as a bad case of nerves.
    He
worked at the laptop until his eyes were so gritty he had to stop. Still, he
didn’t dare close them and try to sleep. Instead he lay back on the bed and
tried to think what to do next. He’d have to buy a new vehicle out of town
someplace. Better than trying to do it here. The sooner he left, the safer he’d
be. At least for a while. Not that he had to hide from sight every day but he’d
seen enough movies and read enough books to know what needed to be done. And he
held a position as second in command of a worldwide corporation, for god’s
sake. He made plans and executed them every day.
    So he’d
make decisions. Make a plan.
    He just
needed to follow it and he’d be okay.
    Sure,
keep telling yourself that. There’s a little difference between drawing up an
outline to take over a company and being on the run from people who he was sure
would kill him without hesitation.
    What a
fucking mess. Who knew answering the damn phone would set him on a collision
course with one of the most powerful men in the world?
    He spent
the remainder of the night watching the minute hand on his watch until the time
arrived to leave.
     
    *****
     
    Charles
Bennett pulled his briefcase toward him and tossed the unlit cigar into the
ashtray in the limo. Five years ago, the doctors said he had to stop smoking
but he couldn’t quite give up the taste and aroma of the cigars he loved so
much. Old habits died hard. Besides, the older he got, the more he clung to his
pleasures.
    Frank,
the limo driver, opened the door and stood aside for him to exit.
    Bennett
heaved his stocky figure out of the vehicle and swallowed a sigh as he
straightened to his full height of five foot ten. A light breeze caught a few
strands of dark brown hair, still