“no relation to Brad Pitt, in case you were wondering about the resemblance.”
Sadowski laughed, and looked from Greer to Pitt, to make sure they had hit it off. “Burt owns this place,” Sadowski said.
“So I gathered when he stole the candy bars,” Greer replied.
“Stan’s told me a lot about you.”
Oh yeah, Greer thought—although he never used it, Sadowski did have a first name.
“Said you were the best commander he’d had in Iraq.” He unwrapped a Twix bar and took a bite. “Said you took a hit over there, too. That why your left leg is sticking out straight?”
Greer didn’t answer.
“You shoulda said something at the desk. I give a ten percent discount to vets.”
Greer noticed that he had a Liberty Bell tattooed on his right arm.
“Stan tell you about our group?” Burt asked.
“Not much,” Greer said. Was this guy ever going to leave? He wasn’t done chewing out Sadowski. Stan.
“He ought to. You might be interested.”
“I’m not what you call a joiner.”
“You don’t know till you hear. Stan, I’ll give you some papers on your way out. You try to get your pal here to look ’em over.”
“I will, Burt, I will.”
“Nice meetin’ you,” he said, and Greer waited for the sound of his flip-flops to recede before starting up with Sadowski.
But he had no sooner begun than Sadowski raised a hand to stop him and said, “Captain, I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve got something you’re really going to want to hear. Trust me.”
“If it’s about this fuckin’ group of yours—the Nazi Brethren or whatever—I don’t want to hear.”
“No, no, you’re gonna like this.”
Greer sat back and waited.
“Remember, in Iraq, that little mission we went on?”
“God damn it, Sadowski—”
“And that palace we went to?”
“There’s no one else here. Just spit it out.”
“Well, Silver Bear just bought out another security firm.”
“So? What’s that got to do with Iraq?”
“So guess who one of their clients is? Who’s now one of ours?”
Greer waited, but Sadowski, the idiot, was clearly expecting him to guess. “George Bush.”
“Better. Remember the name of the guy who owned the palace?”
“Yes,” Greer said, getting interested now. “His name was al-Kalli.”
Sadowski just grinned.
“He’s a Silver Bear client?”
Sadowski nodded his head yes.
Greer’s mind was racing. “He lives here?”
“Top of Bel-Air, biggest fucking house up there.”
Greer had to admit, he was taken by surprise. He sat up too quickly, and his leg suddenly twanged like a guitar string. Al-Kalli, here? In L.A.?
“He’s got more land than anyone else up there, too.”
What do you know, Greer thought. Sadowski had actually said something that might prove useful for a change; it was enough to make him forget about that little fiasco in Brentwood. And although he hadn’t yet figured out how it was going to play out, he felt as though he had just heard the distinct sound of opportunity knocking.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AT THE TOP of the page, all in caps, it said FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE.
Below that, the press release began: “As part of their ongoing research into the world of prehistoric Los Angeles, paleontologists at the George C. Page Museum of Natural History have made a groundbreaking discovery, one which is sure to rewrite for all time the anthropological record of the western United States.”
Carter’s heart already began to sink.
“A team led by Dr. Carter Cox, Visiting Fellow and head of its Paleontology Field Research Department, has uncovered in an active dig site of the La Brea Tar Pits the fossilized remains of a human being .
Sadowski laughed, and looked from Greer to Pitt, to make sure they had hit it off. “Burt owns this place,” Sadowski said.
“So I gathered when he stole the candy bars,” Greer replied.
“Stan’s told me a lot about you.”
Oh yeah, Greer thought—although he never used it, Sadowski did have a first name.
“Said you were the best commander he’d had in Iraq.” He unwrapped a Twix bar and took a bite. “Said you took a hit over there, too. That why your left leg is sticking out straight?”
Greer didn’t answer.
“You shoulda said something at the desk. I give a ten percent discount to vets.”
Greer noticed that he had a Liberty Bell tattooed on his right arm.
“Stan tell you about our group?” Burt asked.
“Not much,” Greer said. Was this guy ever going to leave? He wasn’t done chewing out Sadowski. Stan.
“He ought to. You might be interested.”
“I’m not what you call a joiner.”
“You don’t know till you hear. Stan, I’ll give you some papers on your way out. You try to get your pal here to look ’em over.”
“I will, Burt, I will.”
“Nice meetin’ you,” he said, and Greer waited for the sound of his flip-flops to recede before starting up with Sadowski.
But he had no sooner begun than Sadowski raised a hand to stop him and said, “Captain, I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve got something you’re really going to want to hear. Trust me.”
“If it’s about this fuckin’ group of yours—the Nazi Brethren or whatever—I don’t want to hear.”
“No, no, you’re gonna like this.”
Greer sat back and waited.
“Remember, in Iraq, that little mission we went on?”
“God damn it, Sadowski—”
“And that palace we went to?”
“There’s no one else here. Just spit it out.”
“Well, Silver Bear just bought out another security firm.”
“So? What’s that got to do with Iraq?”
“So guess who one of their clients is? Who’s now one of ours?”
Greer waited, but Sadowski, the idiot, was clearly expecting him to guess. “George Bush.”
“Better. Remember the name of the guy who owned the palace?”
“Yes,” Greer said, getting interested now. “His name was al-Kalli.”
Sadowski just grinned.
“He’s a Silver Bear client?”
Sadowski nodded his head yes.
Greer’s mind was racing. “He lives here?”
“Top of Bel-Air, biggest fucking house up there.”
Greer had to admit, he was taken by surprise. He sat up too quickly, and his leg suddenly twanged like a guitar string. Al-Kalli, here? In L.A.?
“He’s got more land than anyone else up there, too.”
What do you know, Greer thought. Sadowski had actually said something that might prove useful for a change; it was enough to make him forget about that little fiasco in Brentwood. And although he hadn’t yet figured out how it was going to play out, he felt as though he had just heard the distinct sound of opportunity knocking.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AT THE TOP of the page, all in caps, it said FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE.
Below that, the press release began: “As part of their ongoing research into the world of prehistoric Los Angeles, paleontologists at the George C. Page Museum of Natural History have made a groundbreaking discovery, one which is sure to rewrite for all time the anthropological record of the western United States.”
Carter’s heart already began to sink.
“A team led by Dr. Carter Cox, Visiting Fellow and head of its Paleontology Field Research Department, has uncovered in an active dig site of the La Brea Tar Pits the fossilized remains of a human being .
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