Dirty Money: A Jonathon Price Novel

By William James

Jonathon Price has acquired a reputation as the best black ops operator in Afghanistan. He tactics have terrorized even the most hardened Taliban chieftains. But the killing has taken a toll, physically and emotionally. Hes resigned his commission and returned home to San Diego to live near his grandfather, William Price.

William has contacts in every part of the world, including the clandestine services and criminal enterprise, and has discovered a devastating terror attack in the planning stages. Then he finds he has a fatal cancer, and goes to a specialized hospital in Switzerland. While there, he puts together a plan both to stop the attack and slow the worldwide business of terror, including the drug trade and human trafficking. His plan is to cripple the world of terrorism by robbing it of a critical elementthe ability to readily use the proceeds of theft, drug dealing and human trafficking by laundering the money.

But William cannot implement the plan and he turns to Jonathon with a last request. That request comes in the form of a puzzle encased in a stainless steel cube. Solving the puzzle sets Jonathon on a quest to disrupt both the terror attack and the business of laundering money.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491763292

Book preview

Chapter 1

J onathon’s day began with a five-mile run down Spindrift Road, past the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club and then down to the beach. The Pacific glistened with colors of the rising sun, and the offshore breeze was both bracing and invigorating. The chorus of seagull chatter and the rhythm of the pounding waves were comforting in their timeless familiarity.

When he got back to his house, he took a long, hot shower and then put on a pair of worn, comfortable khaki shorts and a wildly colorful Hawaiian shirt. Jonathon was a little over six feet tall and had dark, wavy hair, and despite the long, ugly scar running down the side of his face, he was remarkably handsome. And even wearing the extravagantly loud attire most often associated with noisy, pale tourists, he projected a commanding presence.

He walked through the house to the kitchen where Rosa, his housekeeper, was cutting fruit for breakfast. Buenos dias, senora.

Good morning, Jonathon, she said, smiling.

Jonathon poured himself a cup of coffee from the french press, grabbed the Wall Street Journal from the countertop, and walked out to the patio table, where he ate breakfast every day. He had just finished the first section of the paper when he heard the phone ring. Rosa answered, brought the phone to the table, and handed it to him. It’s your grandfather’s lawyer, she said, unable to hide the tears welling up in her eyes.

This is Jonathon.

Hi, Jonathon. This is Ron Wilson. I just got the call from Switzerland. William’s gone. They said he went quietly and peacefully.

Ron sounded a little shaky. He had been William’s personal attorney for forty years, and the two men had forged a strong personal and professional bond. Jonathon knew that Ron Wilson was one of very few people that his grandfather had trusted unconditionally. The fact that Jonathon had been expecting this call for some time did nothing to protect him from the pain of its presence and reality. His grandparents had raised him since he was three after his parents were killed in a car wreck. And they had been the best parents imaginable. Even though his grandfather traveled a lot, he and his wife still managed to make Jonathon feel like the most loved kid on earth and made sure he had the best of everything.

Life had been difficult for William when his wife died of cancer. Jonathon was attending prep school on the east coast, but even then his grandfather always found the time to visit and help Jonathon keep his spirits up. So Jonathon was deeply saddened when his grandfather told him he had terminal liver cancer and had decided to enter hospice in Switzerland. William also asked Jonathon to move into the LaJolla house. William had always loved that house and couldn’t bear to sell it. He also wanted Rosa and her husband, Jose, to have a home there for the rest of their lives.

Ron went on. I also need to come see you today, if at all possible. William has asked me to give you something and impress upon you the need to take it both seriously and urgently. I would like to come now, if that is agreeable.

Sure. Come on over. What is it?

To be completely candid, I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s a stainless-steel cube sitting in a safe deposit box at La Jolla Trust. I’ve got the documents I need to get the box, and then I will come straight to your house. Your grandfather instructed me not to discuss the matter any further on the phone, so I would like to be on my way. I’ll see you in an hour.

Despite his curiosity, Jonathon had learned long ago that worrying and speculating are almost never useful. So he hung up the phone, got another cup of coffee, and tried to finish reading the Journal.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about his grandfather’s life and the odd nature of his relationship with Rosa and Jose. Rosa and her husband were in their midforties and made a very handsome couple. They had the facial structure and beautiful golden skin of the Spanish, bodies of athletes, and degrees from the University of Southern California, where they first met. Jonathon had originally thought that they were just employees, but after he moved into the house, he could see they were more like family to his grandfather. And as he came to know them, Jonathon developed a very warm, familial relationship with them both. But even then, it was clear that there was a large part of their life and experience they did not wish to share. And they were both very coy about the period between their college days and coming to live in this house with William.

Jonathon was just getting up for one last cup of coffee when the doorbell rang and he heard Rosa bringing Ron out to the patio. Ron walked to the table and unceremoniously plopped the shining block of steel on the table in front of Jonathon, who rose to shake hands.

Hi, Ron, he said. So what do we do now?

Well, I’m not entirely sure. Look at this thing, he said, gesturing at the box, and see if you can figure it out.

Jonathon looked carefully at the box, a perfectly symmetrical cube, beautifully crafted and flawlessly finished, reflecting the morning sun with an impressively uniform, pearlescent glow. He estimated it to be about twelve inches per side. One thing that immediately caught his attention was that there was no keyhole, no latch, and no hinges. There were very fine lines engraved on each side and an indentation about one inch square on one side. The box was also very light, which suggested to Jonathon that it must be hollow. And it had the word Excalibur engraved on one side.

Okay, my friend, this is pretty interesting, said Jonathon. So how do we open this thing?

Well, your guess is as good as mine. And the only hint I’ve got for you is this note that William said I should give you.

He then handed Jonathon a piece of heavy stationery upon which was typed, Be it ever so humble.

And so it began.

38248.png

Sound, logical reasoning always begins simply and grows more complex as required for the solution. The simplest alternative here was to assume the impression on the box was a fingerprint reader. The note meant nothing to Jonathon, so he put his right thumb on the indentation—and nothing happened. But then the television mounted on the back wall of the patio suddenly came to life, and Jonathon found himself looking at his grandfather sitting behind a desk. And from what he could hear, Jonathon thought that every television in the house had been turned on. Ron almost jumped out of his chair when this commotion started, and Jonathon laughed out loud. Granddad had built what was probably the most expensive remote control ever made.

Hello, Jonathon, said William from the television. I see that you have figured out the easy part, so now we start to work on the hard part. I assume Ron is with you, so both of you should proceed to the room that used to be my office. You will see that one of the panels on the wall has opened, and there you will find two thumb drives and a key. Take everything, and put the thumb drive labeled ‘One’ in the computer. You should both make yourselves comfortable because this will take a little time.

Jonathon and Ron walked back through the house to the office and found the key and the thumb drives just as the video had described. Both men sat down in front of a twenty-seven-inch iMac, and Jonathon inserted the drive.

When the screen came to life, they again saw the very distinguished visage of William Price. He had a full head of perfectly groomed white hair, and his face showed the creases and wrinkles accumulated through age and experience.

"All right, gentlemen, now we begin. To start, I want to assure you both that I’ve not yet completely lost my marbles, although the different tasks in which I’ve had Ron engaged while I’ve been in the hospital could have easily given him that impression. However, I assure you that existing circumstances make the following requests and actions reasonable. Jonathon, I’m asking you to undertake a project which will almost certainly expose you to significant danger and risk. Because of that, I’ve had Ron transfer all my assets to a series of trusts, of which he is the sole trustee. One of the trusts owns this house and an endowment sufficient to pay in perpetuity the associated costs of ownership including maintenance, taxes, insurance, and salaries for both Rosa and Jose.

"Another trust exists to equip you, Jonathon, with the funds and tools required to carry out the assigned task. Now, even though Ron is the trustee and manager of this trust, he has no idea whatsoever regarding the proposed nature of your activities. And he must never know, because knowledge will create substantial risk for him, his family, and his colleagues. For these purposes, Ron is simply your banker. And he’s been a very busy boy. As you will be traveling a good deal under severe time constraints, the trust has purchased a Gulfstream 650 for your use. The trust also pays for any and all expenses related to the ownership and use of this asset, including crew salaries. The crew is currently standing by, waiting for you to contact them, and you should know that I hired each of them personally. I’ll fill you in more on that subject when we get to the second drive.

Now, Ron, you are to provide Jonathon with any funds, transferred in any fashion, that he requests, and do that without asking any questions. None. Jonathon, you are to request funds required to accomplish your task. Spend no time worrying about amounts or ways to do things less expensively; just get the job done. Ron, I think you can go back to your office now. Jonathon, after Ron has left, please insert the second drive, and I will endeavor to dispel the mystery I’ve created here.

The screen then went blank. Jonathon looked at Ron, and Ron looked at Jonathon. Gee, nothing the least bit strange about this deal, huh? said Jonathon.

Ron sighed. Actually, this answers some questions I have. I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off meeting strange people, getting documents drawn up and signed, and trying to make some sense out of this whole process. I’ll tell you one thing: the crew William hired for the plane are a little odd and a little scary. I don’t know where he found them, but they are certainly not your run-of-the mill flight crew. And then this stuff with the house, Rosa and Jose, has also been kind of weird. Negotiating with them over employment and other matters has been like negotiating with a Park Avenue securities lawyer. There is much, much more there than meets the eye.

Ron stood up and stuck out his hand. I will now beat a speedy retreat and let you and William sort out the rest of whatever was on his mind. I wish you well and will undoubtedly hear from you shortly.

He handed Jonathon a small piece of paper. Here’s a number you should use. It’s good 24-7, and William made me swear not to speak with you on any other line.

Jonathon got up and walked him to the door. On the way out to his car, Ron turned and waved. Good luck, Jonathon. I think you’re going to need it. And hey, I just remembered. What did that goofy note mean? ‘Be it ever so humble.’

Jonathon couldn’t help laughing. Come on, Ron. I can’t believe you don’t get it.

Ron’s blank look made him continue. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home. Grandpa left us notice that the only place the box would work is here.

With that, Jonathon turned and headed back to the office. He pulled out the first drive, inserted the second, and sat down.

William’s smiling face appeared on the monitor again. "Okay, Jonathon, here we go. I will first say that I commend you for both the discretion and modesty you’ve shown as related to your service as a navy SEAL. I know more about your record than you might expect because I too have worked for the government on some of its less savory undertakings. I know a couple of things that are relevant to the task before you. I also know your record is highly distinguished by decisive acts of courage in the face of danger, and I’ve been able to discover a few pieces of information about your activities that scare the shit out of my old pals in the Company. I tell you this because it’s important for you to know that I’m not flying blind here. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to involve yourself in a risky undertaking if I wasn’t sure you could handle it.

"Now, on another topic, I’ve got much more money than anybody knows, and that includes even Ron—at least for now. I’ve been a very successful investor and entrepreneur, and I’ve been very quiet about it. That said, I also know that you too are a very wealthy individual. You and I both have an odd aptitude for investing. I’ve never really understood it, but it has served us both very well, as has our shared propensity for secrecy. I know, for example, that virtually all of your funds are squirreled away in a variety of small Swiss- and Liechtenstein-based banks. I can assure you, however, that no one apart from me is aware of this.

"And finally, Rosa and Jose Flores. I’m sure you’ve been more than a little curious about these two and their role in my life. Many years ago, I was an active CIA field operative working to eliminate the head of a particularly loathsome Latin American cartel involved in narcotics, human trafficking, and terrorism. Rosa and Jose were double agents working for me, and we were on the brink of success when Rosa’s cover was blown. She was tortured and raped for a week before Jose and I were able to rescue her. Rosa is an incredibly strong person, and while she suffers psychologically, and to some extent physically, from her ordeal, she has largely recovered.

"Following her rescue, I brought both of them to this house and told them I would help them establish a new life in any way that I could. To my great surprise, they decided that they would like to remain here and run this house. And so they have. Rosa is very good with money and staff, and Jose has, as you know, built a world-class topiary garden here. They are, I believe, very happy and will remain here for the rest of their lives, if they so desire. So as a practical matter, this is their house, and you are their invited guest. I recommend that you don’t irritate either of them, and if Rosa tells you to make your own damn breakfast, get after it.

Finally, you should not let them know I told you all this. If they want to tell you, they will.

With that, William leaned back in his chair and smiled. Okay, Jonathon, I know this is a lot to absorb. Take a break, come back, and I’ll finish up.

The screen went blank, and Jonathon stood up and headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Rosa and Jose were sitting on the patio, and they both looked at him with knowing smiles.

How’s it going, Jonathon? queried Rosa. Nothing is ever simple with that old man, is it?

No, it isn’t. I feel a little bit like Alice going through the looking glass.

The three of them chatted about nothing for the next thirty minutes, and Jonathon got more than his fair share of curious looks from both Rosa and Jose. Then Jonathon got up to go back to the office.

All right, he said. Back to the lion’s den. When I get finished, let’s break open a bottle of the bubbly and toast that crazy, old man.

He walked back to the office, sat down, and hit Enter. The screen came back to life, and there was William grinning at him.

"Okay, Jonathon, let’s get down to business. The only reason I’m getting you involved in this is because I ran out of time. And the reason for the way I’m doing this is because if anything should happen to you, the project will just die and no one will be the wiser. We simply can’t afford the people we’re targeting to know that their secrets are known. So I’ve divided the execution into a number of distinct steps. The completion of each step is dependent upon the accumulated information derived from the preceding steps. The first of these will evidence itself if you simultaneously push and hold the Ctrl, Alt, and Shift keys. But before you do that, please know that I love and admire you, Jonathon. You have been the major focal point of my life ever since your grandmother passed, and if you are successful in this quest, you will have saved many lives and made the world a better place.

Finally, two pieces of invaluable advice: never leave home without Occam’s razor, and never forget where you will ultimately find the treasure. Oh, one last thing. You need to get the stainless-steel box open. Good-bye, my friend, and good luck.

The screen went blank, and Jonathon sighed as he sat back in his chair.

The prospect of getting involved in a complicated, dangerous undertaking was not particularly attractive. He had left the military two years ago and was really enjoying his life now, principally because it was almost completely without pressure. He had plenty of money, lived in a beautiful house in a beautiful city, and life was uncomplicated. The horrors of his military service were neatly segregated in one corner of his mind and only occasionally came out to bother him. But he also knew that his grandfather wouldn’t ask him to do this if it wasn’t really important. So do it he would, even if it meant confronting his wartime demons again.

He turned to the keyboard and pressed the keys. After a moment, the screen started filling with a stream of numbers, which just kept coming—and coming. After about two minutes, the streaming stopped and a brief message appeared.

Please remove the thumb drive and destroy it. The relevant information on this drive has been transferred to your OneDrive account.

Jonathon was more than a little intrigued by this last bit of information. How on earth did his grandfather know he had a OneDrive account, and how could he possibly know the login information? Geez, he thought, that old fart was a riddle in a mystery in a puzzle in a box. And then he thought about the numbers. What on earth was that about? He considered the matter for several minutes and then decided to approach the problem as he did everything else: logically. So he opened his OneDrive account and found the file.

He opened the file and found a document thirty-six pages long, and each page was filled with single-spaced lines of digits, with no spaces between the digits. As he looked at the numbers, he saw no patterns of any kind and concluded that they must be some kind of code. And while he knew almost nothing about decryption, he knew someone that did. He needed to get his pal Larry Green to work on this. But before he did anything else, he thought he should try to get the box open and then go from there. Maybe there was decryption information in the box.

He walked back out to the patio and started examining the box. He put his thumb on the fingerprint reader again, and nothing happened. He then rotated the box, looking at each side, and he noted two things. There didn’t appear to be any seams on the box suggesting an opening, and on what he assumed was the bottom, the word Excalibur was engraved. He ran his fingers over the engraving, and then he thought about his grandfather’s cryptic advice regarding Occam’s razor and treasure. He laughed, ran to the office, and found a paper clip. He straightened the clip and pressed it into the middle of the x in the word Excalibur. Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss, a click, and the top of the box slid back.

Ole Grandpa, he thought. Never leave home without Occam’s razor, and never forget where you will ultimately find the treasure, or in this case, the simplest solution is usually the right solution, and X always marks the spot.

Jonathon looked in the box and found an iPhone and another note.

This is the only phone you should use from now on, Jonathon. It’s got a few interesting apps on it, including a fingerprint reader, and numbers that you’ll need. Most of the folks you’ll be calling won’t answer unless the call comes from this phone.

Well, this is the last you’ll be hearing from me for a while. Adios.

Jonathon turned the phone on and pushed the Contacts button. He needed to talk to Larry, but Larry refused to accept calls because he was paranoid about people listening in. His concern applied principally to the NSA, for whom he had done some work. Oddly, there were only three entries in the contacts list: Ron, Plane, and Larry. He was more than a little surprised because, apart from knowing Larry as his college roommate and close friend, Jonathon didn’t know his grandfather knew anything else about him. He pressed Larry’s name and the phone started to ring.

Hi, Jonathon, he said. Bet you’re surprised I answered, huh?

You bet your ass I am. Why the sudden change?

Well, dear, old Grandpa Billy had some real spooky guys pay me a visit. Scared the crap out of me. But they convinced me that I should take this phone and check it out myself, which I did. It turns out that this is a pretty magical little device. You can’t track it, and you can’t eavesdrop on it. Now I know a lot about making magic phones, but I can’t figure this one out. I do know, however, that it’s safe to talk on it. So when am I going to see you?

Larry Green was one of the best minds in the entire electronics industry, on par with the guys who founded Intel. He was a true mathematical savant, and every department in the government that used initials for its name had, at one time or another, hired Larry to do encryption and decryption work. But Larry didn’t want to get into the trap of working for the government full time. He basically got off the grid and supported himself by developing and then using algorithms for stock trading. He had become quite wealthy and lived in his own little world on a small ranch he bought near Bozeman, Montana. Jonathon and he had originally become great friends as roommates at Dartmouth. Neither Jonathon nor Larry could quite figure out why they got along so well, but that didn’t really matter. Larry was one of the only people with whom Jonathon maintained contact while he was in the navy.

"If you’re available, I’m going to come up tomorrow. I’ve got a great little puzzle for you, and I’ve got my own wings, so I can be in Bozeman by noon. How