Chapter 7 – Litmus Test
“Augustine had landed with her cast and crew in the dreamy city of Beirut. The city looked like a fare and the flea markets laden with the most exotic of fruits the lady could lay her eyes on. The port city was the best locales she could have found on earth to film her romantic magnum opus. The marinas, clubs, breathtaking architecture were just like a director’s prescription for a fabulous backdrop to a heartwarming love story.
“Ooh, Honey! I wish you were here with me”, gushed the still madly in love Augustine to her Polish – American husband, Guss.
“I wish the same too my love, but you know I had to be here for the editing, the damn thing needs to be completed by Wednesday”
“Alright honey, won’t keep you away from work, Good Bye Darling” Augustine hung up the phone from her desk at the luxurious Four Seasons hotel that gave a breathtaking view of the Riviera and the bustling thoroughfare by its sides.
“Could have at least offered to take me along!” fumed a visibly upset Guss as he sat on his couch by the fireplace holding a glass of scotch and smoking a cigarette.
The rot had started setting in and it would soon overwhelm Guss before he could do anything to stem it. Jealousy pangs and a Nadir of his self – esteem had driven him to the edge of the cliff and he was about to hang by a thread, so to speak.
“Have you taken a look at this boss?” Stephen Rudolph, Guss’s trusted lieutenant and a close confidant was holding out the evening edition of the Los Angeles Chronicle which ran an article by star gazer and popular columnist Alisa McNeal.
“Of course I have, these paparazzi maggots hardly have anything to write these days” Guss was upset over many things happening with his life, this time over an article by a very popular columnist in a well read newspaper that alleged that he had poached Augustine for her large fortunes and her estates in LA and Chicago.
“That’s a load of Bull Shit, I tell you” thundered Guss at the hapless Rudolph who could not say anything immediately that would pacify his boss.
“What do you want me to do about it boss?” stammered Rudolph. Though Guss was just over his 30s now, he commanded a fear among his subordinates, mostly because of his ignonimous temper and the after math of his fury.
“Let it be, these things are a dime a dozen, we have other important things to look into” Guss quickly revived himself.
Rudolph was in his mid – 30s and was a simple man but with a resolute will. He was like a remora that latches on to a shark and feeds on its refused crumbs. It was well known in Hollywood that Guss had duped Augustine into believing in his love for her and he had married her solely for her money. Stephen had been attracted by the city lights just like thousands like him from far off wheat & maize growing villages. His dreams of making it big in front of the arc lights in the city of Angels had been quashed like a cruel joke. He never could become an actor or anything significant, may be because he did not make the right company or follow the right flock. His productive years had deserted him long back and now he was just a sad reflection of his own past. Alone and almost broke, he had decided upon a complete revamp on his morale standards.
How luck favors the brave and the risk takers, Stephen was a classic example of this. Guss had put up a clean image to the world and was dabbling in direction and production. But beneath his Persian carpet there was a lot of foul smelling garbage and Guss had found Stephen to be a more than effective Janitor to clean up his mess.
Guss was living two lives and one of which was something he was not particularly proud of, but nevertheless gave him access to his wildest dreams. Stephen was no bonafide benefactor of the Schessman – Schneider household; he was a mere agent at Guss’s disposal. Stephen’s loyalty was always on Sale as he had long renounced the straight path and this in fact had yielded him very positive results.
Augustine had always turned a blind eye to her husband’s behind the scenes endeavors since she did not want to act his mother. She had long suffered loneliness in the crowd and Guss’s entry in her life had given her much needed companionship and had eradicated her loneliness.
Guss wanted to be famous, which he was now albeit in a manner that he had not wanted. But at the same time he wanted to be rich, very rich. His skills were limited to conning people and thus circumventing law.
The 50s was a time of shift & great unrest. New countries were being born and old empires were crumbling to dust. Great Britain was no longer recognized as a superpower and the European nations were all reeling under the after effects of a long and expensive war. The free world in the USA and the communist USSR were the only remaining superpowers.
The tensions across the many kingdoms of Africa and the Middle East opened up an unprecedented demand for weapons of all kind, light, heavy, and tactical and Guss would not let go of this opportunity to make money; lots and lots of it.
Guss was a facilitator for underground agencies and outlawed groups who wanted quick access to modern weaponry for a price. Over the years, Guss had befriended several black sheep in the armed forces of the western world’s lone superpower and was running a thriving business of supplying sophisticated arms to the local mobsters. Now his thirst for more had made him join hands with enemies of the state. Contrary to popular belief, there is NO honor among thieves.
It was a great nexus and probably would never be exposed to the general public or the political administration. As long as they were away from the public spotlight, the incumbents were not even slightly bothered by what they were doing.
“Tonight in the park, 21:15 hrs” read the note that Stephen Rudolph had been carrying in the pocket of his long dark brown overcoat along with a photograph. The photograph was that of Sgt. George Gilmore of the 88th Infantry. He was the store keeper – in charge of the US Arms Depot situated on the outskirts of Los Angeles. This was an old Spanish Garrison converted to a fortified arms depot by the federal government. Sgt. Gilmore shared Guss’s ideologies of wealth amassment and his job as a stores keeper in an ordinance depot would only get him as far as a Lincoln Premiere after his retirement. He had met Guss at a function organized by Hollywood Studios to honor the sacrifices of the American armed forces on the Japanese frontline.
Guss, shrewd and with an eye for recognizing similarities in other people, was quick in singling out this ambitious Sergeant. He soon discovered his potential in the domain of arms dealing and smuggling and was quickly drawn towards the idea. He later learns of Gilmore’s affiliates and acquaintances within the armed forces and the depot who shared his dreams of living a high life. Thus a network was established and they went about their business unchecked. They had little risks, they had to siphon out just a small segment from the huge consignments that the depot would regularly receive from the ordinance factories and the accountant who was also an accomplice would make a false entry. It was quite easy, since the US was always involved directly or indirectly in any armed conflict taking place at any corner of the world and a shortage of a trunk or two of artillery pieces and machine guns wouldn’t make the alarm bells ringing.
The weapons had made way to all wrong hands imaginable.
Augustine, meanwhile was engrossed in putting together the pieces that would bring life to her magnum opus.
She had intended to film her movie in the exotic locations of Egypt, but the escalating tensions in that region over a marine trade route had forced the US embassy to issue travel alerts to its citizens and the next best choice after Egypt was Beirut. Her crew had erected amazing sets which made the backdrop strikingly Egyptian and the movie goers would not suspect a thing.
On the other hand, Stephen Rudolph laid waiting at the park in the LA suburbia for his target. The Sergeant had a habit, a fine one in fact of taking the circuitous route through the park from the arms depot to his home downtown. His, was a desk job and the field man in him craved for physical exertion. The park was no obstacle course but it nevertheless aided in stretching his limbs a bit.
The night was cold and so was Rudolph’s heart. He had sold his soul to the devil and he had forgotten all things human. His despondency had forged him to become a hardened machine, impervious to the effects of nature.
9 P.M : Gilmore enters the nearly deserted park, taking a brisk stroll by the lake side.
9:05 P.M : Rudolph fetches his tool from a hidden side pocket of his long dark brown overcoat.
9:10 P.M : The predator watches his prey approach.
9:12 P.M : A struggle for survival, tufts of precious oxygen slips away from the lungs.
9:15 P.M : Sergeant George Gilmore loses the most important battle of his life.
Stephen Rudolph saw his reflection in the dark moonlit waters of the lake. It was that of a beast that hunted for survival.
In the middle of the walkway, an army man’s corpse dressed in fatigues sprawled. A small piece of leather lied a few inches away from his neck. It was swift, but definitely not painless.
A recent deal had gone awry and the network’s cover was at the risk of getting blown over. Free lancing mercenaries who fought alongside militias were apprehended by British forces during the conflict in the Middle East and to their utter shock, found American weapons on their person. This was a major embarrassment for the US Government which had stayed away from the conflict and this incident sparked off speculations about its double stand.
The Sergeant had pressed the panic button and had confided with some of his pals that he would turn Government witness and implicate all those involved. But as they say, money buys eyes and ears and this news soon reached Guss who let his minion Rudolph do his bidding.
The evening paper, Los Angeles Chronicle carried a half page report on the killing of a veteran Sergeant. LAPD had initially suspected it to be a case of killing for profit as his wallet was nowhere to be found, but they were still dumbfounded on the murder weapon since petty thieves wouldn’t risk choking a 6’2 sergeant with a piece of leather. They had kept the case ‘open & under investigation’.
“That should take care of things for a while” Guss had a wry smile on his face. He was looking older than he should have been. He was hardly over 30 and yet the stress of his affairs had carved several lines on his forehead and around his mouth.
Rudolph had passed the litmus test. He was now a deadly killing machine and he would do anything if a pile of notes were placed in front of him.