Final Turn: A story of adventure, intrigue and suspense. Read Online Free PDF Page A

the National Defense Headquarters in Ottawa in charge of all mobile land systems. A very large command." He gave his full attention to Sam as he spoke. "I understand that he comes from a long family line in the military."
    "He certainly does. I’m going to the military museum tomorrow. As a place to start." Sam was hoping that Lindquist might have other suggestions.
    "That would be a good start. I officially opened that museum myself several years ago. They are now beginning to acquire a few excellent artifacts. There is a small library, but a good one. The curator is an old acquaintance. And yes, you may mention my name." He said that as if there were no doubt that Sam had come for that. That irritated her momentarily, but she let it pass.
    "I’ve already contacted the curator. But thank you anyway." Sam's enthusiasm to ask Lindquist for help suddenly waned. At the first opportune moment, she excused herself and left him to the others.

CHAPTER THREE
     
     
     
    Roger and Jack arrived to find Bill Whithers, the chief software programmer, waiting outside Lindquist's door. The three stood at the open door and awaited an invitation to enter. It came in the form of Lindquist's hand offering chairs at the table. Roger closed the door behind them, as he knew was Lindquist's wish.
    They sat to the round table in his office. The office had been renovated according to Lindquist's specifications. This had not been done for a modest man. The woodwork was rich and where there could be brass fittings or silver trimmings, there were. The furniture could have stood proudly in the study of a Prince's mansion. One painting was an original Modigliani, the others Roger did not recognize. The two corner walls were of glass, the drapes pulled open display the city spread out below. The other walls held diplomas, awards and citations, most were from his military career, a few since. The Canadian Information Processing Society had given Lindquist an Award of Merit for his contributions in organizing an international conference on data security. The local Chamber of Commerce had recognized his contribution to their Toastmaster's Club with a generous walnut and bronze plaque. His desk was clean except for two telephones, to one side stood a silver pen and pencil set on a stand with a matching silver calendar holder. To the other side was a small table with a computer terminal.
    Lindquist sat at the table with his back to the window. Roger had learned that was a trick he used, perhaps an old fighter pilot's trick. He would place his quests at a disadvantage with the light in their eyes. His hair was full, brushed back neatly and flecked by grey triangles that stood out like silver tipped thorns of a bush. He wore a beautiful brown pinstriped suit with a firmly starched shirt. The stiff collar left a little white mark on his neck. Crisp white cuffs extended from the sleeves and contrasted with his tanned, precision, well-manicured hands. His face was handsome, fine double laugh lines bracketed his neutral mouth. His posture enhanced the appearance of his classically Norwegian frame. Before him lay several neatly stacked sheets of paper. A silver fountain pen lay exactly in the middle. His hands were on the edge of the table, fingers interwoven.
    Lindquist looked Roger over through round spectacles that he wore only for reading. It seemed almost as if he considered it a small intrusion into his private life to let someone see him with glasses. He studied Roger's clothes, his tie and looked directly at Roger's hands. Roger was thankful that Sam had reminded him about the meeting and had inspected him as he left her place after stopping in for a quick coffee in the morning. With Lindquist’s face backlit by the window, Roger had to squint to look into his eyes. He saw that illuminating shine, a glint that was difficult to assess. The man did command respect. He had a look about him like there was not an unplanned thing in his life. He directed