Baril de Singes [Barrel of Monkeys]

  ***

  "Sounds quite complex, old decimal point."

  "It is that," I replied, clinching any ounce of frustration with Sondheim from my words. "Bridgework is on the run. On the move. The possibility of breaching his security to carryout a clandestine abduction is highly doubtful, given the man's contumacious attitude."

  "You sound frightfully dismal about it, old negative number."

  "As mentioned, I'm afraid the job has risen above my skill level." From my perch in the study, the muted calls of bird-seeking guests rose from below as the assembled fanned out over the Manor grounds with binoculars and notebooks in hand. "I do, however, have an item of his that will draw him to my locale."

  "There's an upside to everything, my good lemniscate. You've only been at this for a week now."

  "Tempus fugit, eh what?" My lamentation was sincere, as a major part of me lobbied heavily to place the entire matter on the corner of his desk. The peace of Faithful Hill was upon me and would prove most difficult to leave once more. Counter-weighting this selfishness was the disturbing thought of Angel being subjected to Moeziz and his thugs. She was destined for a bad turn should Moeziz's proviso be fulfilled. "If you'd like, I can supply you with all the information I've collected, along with a synopsis of the players for your reference."

  "Not necessary, old sinusoid," came Sondheim's quick reply. "We the board believe you're the best integer in the equation at this point. Particularly with the mention of Moeziz placing himself square into the set braces."

  "As you desire," I relented. "I will negotiate with Bridgework and Moeziz as best I can."

  "Negotiate? Track and bag them! You'll do fine, old cotangent. As long as the objective is met, we'll be satisfied from this end. Bring Bridgework to us under the radar and you'll be free of the matter."

  I hesitated raising the quandary involving Angel's safekeeping, if only to forfend Sondheim's request for the CerebStix. It was possible that, should the absence of the flash drive thwart Bridgework's plans, Sondheim would be just as satisfied taking ownership of the digital storage device, leaving Angel to twist in Moeziz's wind. There would be no need for the body of Bridgework if the global financial house could stand on its own. "Well," I said, aiming to end the conversation before such an inquiry began, "that's my megillah of this assignment."

  "Thus far, my good oblique prism, thus far. Is there something else you're not telling me?"

  "For instance?" I shook the receiver with annoyance, wondering how Sondheim read my mind through it.

  "The item of Bridgework's you possess. The one that brings him to you."

  "Oh, that. Just a nugatory trinket."

  "Nothing worth mentioning, old googolplex?"

  "At this juncture, no. Just a little object he may want to retrieve at some point. For now, I sit in my rusticated fortress awaiting the attack."

  "Would it be shallow of me not to supply you with a bit of fuel for an offense then, old equidistant?"

  "I'm in this up to my chest, Sondheim," I eagerly replied, pushing us away from the topic of Bridgework's article. "Whatever you have for information, I'll gladly accept it."

  "I thought you'd never ask, old pinching theorum." Sondheim's voice betrayed an overconfident tone. "Bridgework and his family, accompanied by Moeziz and his tribe, boarded a flight at LAX this morning, a private jet affair wouldn't you know. Their intention was to fly to Tunis --"

  "Tunis!" I fumbled in my pocket for the note procured on the Gangrene.

  "Tunis, my good transversal. Our friends were able to divert the flight to Chicago and, through means I shan't divulge, arrange it as such that the Bridgework party was forced to continue its journey on commercial aircraft."

  "To Tunis?"

  "Please don't stutter, old horizontal parabola. They are now on their way to a lengthy layover in Newark, which should provide you enough time to arrange for your own passage."

  "To Tunis?"

  "Rather annoying that is, my fine augmented matrix, stumbling over your own words. Of course, Tunis! The belief on this end is that Bridgework's completing some sort of cycle which he recently began on Mount Rushmore. Now, I'd dearly love to recommend you shake a leg, but far be it from me to dictate how you carry on, old y intercept."

  "Sondheim, I must truncate our call!" Tossing the receiver into its saddle, I stalked out into the sunlight drenching the grand balcony and read the note once again:

  Final drive! Carthage links. Tunis.

  The fourth flash drive needed must be hidden in Tunis, but how could that be? If Bridgework picked up the first at Mount Rushmore and the second at Machu Picchu, how could Tunis be home to the Final drive!? Were the flash drives numbered and Bridgework choosing not to work sequentially? As a byproduct, was Sondheim suggesting so with his overabundance of mathematical references? And what did Carthage links translate to?

  Good questions all, leaving me with only one answer: All would be revealed in Tunis, not on the third floor grand balcony of Tumultuous Manor.

  "Mia! Smudgely!" I called to the yard below. It was time, yet again, to proceed at a cracking pace.