186 Fire Burst by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN-THIRTY, Elwood Gainer noted, glancing at the stylish clock on his office wall. With no appointments scheduled until one o'clock, he could permit himself an early lunch, perhaps a drink or two, to soothe his nerves.

He had it coming, certainly. The past twelve hours, give or take, had brought enough new problems to persuade a Southern Baptist minister that he would find salvation in a whiskey glass.

Not business problems, though; that would have been too simple. He had problems in the one part of his life that Gainer did his best to keep a secret from the world at large.

If that part of his life should be exposed...

He shrugged the thought away and concentrated on the task of covering his tracks. He had been cautious, all the way, routing his donations through a paper company in different names. He stayed away from meetings, never talked to anyone suspicious on his home or office telephones, ordered literature through a dummy postbox that he rented in a name he picked at random from the telephone directory.

Still...

Elwood Gainer hated Jews, blacks, Asians—every nonwhite ethnic group that he could think of, when it came to that. The feelings were a legacy from his father, a first-class hater if there ever was one, drilling the message into his only son from the time Elwood got up in the morning until he retired at night. Jews were greedy, scheming Christ killers, the architects of godless communism. Mud people weren't human at all, and there were medical studies to prove it, cleverly sidelined and suppressed by the Jewish media in New York and grafting politicians in Washington. It was a wise man who kept to his own and knew where his roots were, constantly tending the delicate flower of white supremacy.

In fact, Gainer did business with Jews and other minorities every day, pocketing their money with a broad smile on his face. If anyone had grilled him on the point, he might have told them it was sweet revenge, taking back a measure of the wealth that various minorities had stolen from the white man over time.

Poetic justice.

Gainer's friends called him Woody, and none of those he mingled with on business or social occasions had ever heard him pass an anti-Semitic remark. None would have guessed that Elwood Gainer ranked among the top-four domestic financial supporters of a crackpot private army called the Aryan Resistance Movement. They would have laughed the notion off.

And they would have been wrong.

Time to go. Gainer smiled at his secretary on the way out, told her that he would be back from lunch in ample time for his one o'clock with the developers from Agoura Hills. No problem. As he was running down a mental list of restaurants while he waited for the elevator, Sherry buzzed down to have his driver waiting at the curb. Coordination and efficiency were Gainer's hallmarks. They had put him where he was today.

He rode the elevator down with a couple of "career women" from the seventh

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