The Doomsday Conspiracy   ::   Sheldon Sidney

“My God, youlook sexy,” Robert said. “It’s too bad we don’t have more time.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Susan murmured. Arid a moment later she had stripped off her clothes and joined Robert in the shower.

They never got to the party.

Susan sensed Robert’s needs almost before he knew them, and she saw to it that they were attended to. And Robert was equally attentive to her. Susan would find love notes on her dressing-room table, or in her shoes when she started to get dressed. Flowers and little gifts would be delivered to her on Ground Hog Day and President Folk’s birthday and in celebration of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

And the laughter that they shared. The wonderful laughter …

The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’ll be landing in Zurich in ten minutes, Commander.”

Robert Bellamy’s thoughts snapped back to the present, to his assignment. In his fifteen years with Naval Intelligence, he had been involved in dozens of challenging cases, but this one promised to be the most bizarre of them all. He was on his way to Switzerland to find a busload of anonymous witnesses who had disappeared into thin air. Talk about looking for a needle in a haystack. I don’t even know where the haystack is. Where is Sherlock Holmes when I need him?

“Will you fasten your seat belt, please?”

The C20A was flying over dark forests, and a moment later, skimming over the runway etched by the landing lights of the Zurich International Airport. The plane taxied to the east side of the airport, and headed for the small General Aviation Building, away from the main terminal. There were still puddles on the tarmac from the earlier rainstorms, but the night sky was clear.

“Crazy weather,” the pilot commented. “Sunny here Sunday, rainy all day today, and clearing tonight. You don’t need a watch here, what you really need is a barometer. Can I arrange a car for you, Commander?”

“No, thanks.” From this moment on, he was completely on his own. Robert waited until the plane taxied away, then he boarded a minibus to the airport hotel where he collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

DAY TWO

0800 Hours

The next morning Robert approached a clerk behind the Europcar desk.

“Guten Tag.”

It was a reminder that he was in the German-speaking part of Switzerland. “Guten Tag. Do you have a car available?”

“Yes, sir, we do. How long will you be needing it?”

Good question. An hour? A month? Maybe a year or two? “I’m not sure.