THE WINGS AFFAIR
ACT IV: "Eureka!"
It was well after sunset when the pair met at the base of Monty Montezuma, the college's brass mascot. Solo sat on the bench closest to the statue, and became aware of his partner emerging from the darkness almost immediately. Illya strolled to the bench and sat, then bent over to adjust his socks.
"You're late," the blond agent growled.
"And you're grouchy. What do you have?"
Illya pulled a lumpy envelope from his pocket and put it on the bench between them, then stood and stretched as he spoke. "This is what's left of the sample. I suspect it contains a chemical that relaxes the subject and makes them more susceptible to hypnosis."
"Nice parties at your place."
"Group hypnosis does tend to keep the rowdiness down."
"So how did they pull that off?" Napoleon queried as he squinted at the remains in the envelope, then tucked it in a pocket.
"The only thing that would work the way this did is if the group had been pre-conditioned." Illya pretended to fiddle with the buttons of his letterman's jacket.
Napoleon frowned. "Why?"
"That's what I'll find out. Meanwhile, get what you can on Lindt."
"Certainly. And you keep yours grades up, hear?" he chided playfully with an evil glint in his eye and a wag of his finger.
Illya snorted, then Napoleon saw him freeze as his eyes locked on two figures approaching out of the darkness from the other side of the common area. Solo's hand instinctively went to his holster, but Illya stayed his partner's hand with a wave of his own. "Until tomorrow, then," the Russian mumbled and abruptly walked off in the opposite direction.
Solo turned and heard before he saw that the two giggling girls in lime green mini dresses and white boots were hard to miss, even in the dark. He leaned back on the bench with a smile to enjoy the view as they walked by.
"Let's walk faster!" The blonde whispered.
"No! It'll look like we're chasing him!" the brunette replied, aghast. "You sure he doesn't have a date yet?"
"Well, no one has said so. And if he was my date, everyone would know!" They giggled again, and the tapping of boot heels increased as they followed the trail of the blond Russian.
Napoleon, after cocking his head at the comments and to further appreciate the amount of leg showing as they disappeared up the walk, shook his head at the conversation and grinned. Illya needed a lot more training in the feminine mystique, but the way it stood now made surveillance of his partner a lot more entertaining!
When the girls were out of sight Solo stood casually, and then strolled towards his room. When he got there he went through the files he had stashed away and pulled the paperwork on Lindt. It was a thin file towards the bottom of the stack that really didn't have much to it. Napoleon pursed his lips; maybe there was a reason Alphonse Lindt only gave the university what it wanted and nothing more; all the agent knew was that it was time to check out Professor Lindt's office. He plucked the communicator from his pocket and opened it up.
"Open Channel D," he requested.
"Yes, Mr. Solo?" a husky female voice replied.
"Give the local lab the heads up that I'm on my way to drop off a sample for them to examine, will you Ruth?"
There was a low, sultry giggle on the other end. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"Ruthie, your voice always makes me tingle," he replied with a smile.
"You, Napoleon, are a tease," she said with humor. "And the San Diego office will know immediately to watch out for you." The double entendre was delivered with a chuckle.
"Thank you, my dear. Too bad you aren't here to tell them in person."
"So, is it sunny and warm there?" She said with a sigh. "I could use a beach day!"
"Can't we all? Maybe when we're through here..."
"Is that Mr. Solo?" The familiar voice of Mr. Waverly sounded over the pen. "Good heavens, woman, don't you have a message to deliver?"
"Yes, sir," Ruth said smartly.
"Mr. Solo?"
"Yes, sir?" he replied, unconsciously straightening his tie.
"Has Mr. Kuryakin made any progress?"
"Yes, sir, he has. It seems there's more to the Delta Tau Delta fraternity than meets the eye and the advisor, Alphonse Lindt, needs a little more investigation."
"Really? Lindt, Lindt . . . I don't recall that name from the briefs."
"He's not connected with the hard sciences in any way, as far as our notes say. I'm just going to check out his office."
"Certainly, certainly." Solo could tell by Waverly's distracted tone that his mind was working overtime. "Let me know what you find. I'll have our resources dig deeper here."
"Yes, sir. Solo out." He closed the pen and donned his dark blue maintenance uniform and headed for the door.
*********
Alphonse Lindt tried to relax in the overstuffed chair of his luxurious penthouse apartment. Absently swirling a crystal snifter of brandy as he looked out over the sparkling lights surrounding the lake below him, he tried to keep the Cheshire cat grin at bay as he enjoyed the elated feeling of success that he felt. Finally, his little 'project' was going to get him somewhere and he could finally upgrade to the stately beach house in La Jolla he had his eye on.
When he'd started his entrepreneurial courier project using the unwitting students of Delta Tau Delta so many years ago he never thought it would bring him to this point! A Board position at Wings Corporation! It was over and above what he'd hoped, but only a start to the plans he had.
There was more to Wings Corp. than the public knew. Their negotiator, Mr. Weddel, had offered him a delectable package. True, his project had gotten him this penthouse and the yacht moored in San Diego Bay, but with Wings behind him there would not only be money, but power. He'd had a taste of what Wings was capable of when Mr. Weddel had first approached him.
Lindt knew that Wings Corporation was the corporate sponsor of the college and other entities in the San Diego area, and was mildly surprised when he'd been contacted to run furtive courier services for them almost two years ago, and greatly delighted at the price they were willing to pay. And with a little peeking at what his boys were delivering, Lindt had figured out where Wings was looking to expand before the fact and had invested in the company at the right times. Over the years, his investments proved solid, and he was making money hand over fist! The fact that Wings was about as crooked as it could get didn't bother him one iota. For them not to be getting caught with all they did, he knew Wings must have their hands in just about everything south of Los Angeles! What power and influence they must have!
Wings had noticed his success, and was impressed. Rather than cut him off, they had decided that they wanted the self-starter on their team. Enter Mr. Weddel with the proposition. There was only one thing he had to do before he accepted the offer with a clear mind: He needed to find out a little more information on the major stock holding organization that Mr. Weddel had mentioned. Thrush, was it?
He threw back the remaining brandy and deposited the snifter with a decisive thump. Since it was the Thrush members that had decided to draw Lindt into the Corporation, he decided he'd better know all he could about them. After all, they would be working for Alphonse Lindt someday, and it was best to know your competition!
**********
Solo slipped stealthily into the Psychiatry building and easily entered Lindt's office thanks to his massive ring of campus keys. Neat as a pin and classily decorated, Solo immediately got the impression that this was a man who thought highly of himself. Lindt wasn't a department head, as the office size indicated, but wanted everyone who entered here to think he was worthy of such a position.
Numerous academic certificates were on the walls intermixed with collectable art. Bookshelves displayed bronze and sculpted statues and very few books. This man sure likes to surround himself with nice things, Solo appreciated mentally as he began to search.
It didn't take long for Solo to come up empty handed. Lindt wasn't one of those scholars that amassed written material; save the row of textbooks on a lower shelf, reading material was at a minimum. "Either he has a photographic memory or not much about his chosen profession interests him," Solo mused as he stood back to visually survey the room again. Keeping in mind the obviously fastidious nature of Lindt as suggested by the room as a whole, Solo examined every detail carefully. He was almost ready to dub the search a bust when he noticed something odd in one corner of the room where a shiny ceramic lion with jeweled eyes and of Chinese descent sat majestically on the floor in one corner. Behind the lion the agent noticed the frayed edge of the carpet, which should have been tucked neatly away. Immediately he was on his knees as his hands maneuvered the surprising light lion aside. Porcelain! He thought with appreciation. Nice! With the statue aside and now out of mind, he picked at the frayed edge and was rewarded when it peeled out of the corner easily. Underneath, the padding had been removed and in its place was a small stack of oversized folders. "Eureka!" Solo smirked as the retrieved the items and sat at the desk to read.
The top folder contained a list of names separated by years, the current year on top. Solo easily recognized the list of Delta Tau Delta members along with Illya's fake name penciled in on the bottom. There was one check mark next to his name in a column topped with today's date. The rest of the other names had at least two and up to four checks next to them. "Cookie treatments?" The agent mused out loud. Some names had asterisks after them; usually those names also had the most checks and were listed in more than one year. "Delivery missions?" he wondered, impressed by the detailed record keeping. Then again, he wasn't surprised after what he'd deduced from this office.
The last page was a list of dates with check boxes. One date was for the next morning and had no checkmark after it. "Delivery dates, I bet," he surmised out loud as he put that file aside and moved to the next.
The letterhead caught his attention immediately. WINGS CORPORATION surrounded with a stylized set of bird's wings. The papers were a written offer of employment that lacked actual wage numbers but lots of percentages of Wings, Corp. income. He didn't know much about the company, but the name typed below one of the signature lines rang a bell: Donald Weddel. Removing his belt buckle that was actually a camera, Solo photographed the contract and the list of names and moved to the last folder.
This was perhaps the most impressive of all the folders. Lindt had kept amazingly detailed records of his investments, and the total in the 'Net Worth' column was staggering. "Either he invests his professor pay very wisely, or Dr. Lindt has a lucrative side business going here. Very lucrative." He photographed the sheets, replaced his buckle and carefully stacked the folders back in their corner hidey-hole. He gently replaced the lion and patted it on the head. "Good boy," he said with a smile, and slipped from the office.
He didn't notice that one hollow eye of the jeweled lion eyes held a tiny camera and had just recorded the sentiment.