Careful Measurements

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Careful Measurements Page 12

by Layne D. Hansen


  A security light suddenly flickered on.

  “Down!” Travis whispered.

  The others ducked quickly to the ground. Prairie grass rustled and gravel crunched beneath their weight. The night was too quiet and they were being too loud. Travis grimaced as he rose to his knees. He signaled to the team on the left, motioning for them to swing further left, around the barn. Travis and the woman did the same thing—only they circled wide around to the right and made their way to the back door of the farmhouse.

  Beep Beep!

  “Patton,” Jennifer said sleepily, patting him on the shoulder.

  Beep Beep!

  “Patton.”

  “Huh?” he said groggily.

  Beep Beep!

  Patton finally noticed the alarm and shot up from his spot in the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” Jennifer said, beginning to wake up now.

  He fumbled in the dark, but finally found his phone. He clicked the scroll pad and clicked on the alert.

  He had a new text message that read “Intruder alert!”

  “Patton, what’s wrong?” she asked, frantically.

  He was still half asleep but waking up quickly. “Someone’s breaking into my house.”

  He said it with a deadly calm, which unnerved her more than if he’d shouted the words in her face.

  The team on the left set off another security light as they made their way to the barn. Before departing, Travis decided that if the compound proved to have a security system, they would go in shooting. There were obviously security lights, but Travis couldn’t see any other equipment. No cameras, no sensors.

  Crouched at the rear door of the farmhouse, Travis reached up and tried the knob. The knob was locked and Travis noticed a stout deadbolt. Undeterred, Travis reared back and kicked the door with his full force, his pistol at the ready. There was a loud cracking sound, but the door stayed intact. He kicked at it again and this time it gave way, crashing loudly against a kitchen counter.

  Patton heard the door crash, panes of glass shattering on the kitchen floor.

  “What the hell?” Jennifer gasped, looking at Patton with wide eyes.

  He met her frightened gaze with a calm expression. Again, his calm made her even more nervous. He grabbed his iPad from his nightstand and opened his security app. He watched the intruders invade his home from the safety of Jennifer’s home. There were three, possibly four, and all seemed to be carrying handguns.

  “You see? This is what you get when you speak up at a meeting,” Patton said, showing her the live footage.

  She didn’t know what he meant at first, but then it dawned on her.

  “You don’t think—”

  He looked at her with that detached expression and said, “I speak up at a meeting against this government and they send out a bunch of goons to kill me. That would make these people ‘wake up’ and see they needed a government right? They’d be killing two birds with one stone.”

  She looked at him and for the first time she was starting to believe in his kooky conspiratorial ideas. The thought that they could have been there caused her to shudder with fear.

  “They’re not here!” cried one of the men. He kicked a garbage can, which seemed to explode, its contents spilling all over the room.

  “Hey!” Travis yelled, pushing his shoulder. “We don’t need to do that! They’re not here, we move out, that’s it!”

  The other man nodded reluctantly, but was still angry. He’d been psyching himself up all day to do this. He’d taken a hit of meth before leaving so he’d be sufficiently amped up.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Travis said, motioning with his head.

  Dejected, the four intruders lined up and filed out of the house.

  “They’re gone now,” Jennifer said, still shaking. Patton put his arm around her to calm her but he was shaking too. The only difference was, he was shaking out of anger, not fear.

  He was relieved about one thing, though. Had he been there, he would have had to kill four people. That was something he didn’t like doing, no matter how much they deserved it. Someone sent those people on a fool’s errand and he had a pretty good idea who it was.

  The four sped back towards town. Travis was on his phone, riding shotgun, trying to calm his team down and update Charlie.

  “No one was home. Yeah. We’re on our way back to town. What? Okay. What do you want us to do? You really think he has cameras up in his place? No. I didn’t see any. Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Travis ended the call and looked at the driver.

  “The old man is unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head, clenching his jaw.

  The driver just nodded. The hold that the old man had on them was beginning to fade. Over time he had become a bore, constantly meddling in everything they wanted to do.

  “He thinks that place is all wired up with cameras and that we need to get out of town because that guy will recognize us if he sees us around.”

  The driver looked at him and rolled his eyes and said, “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Did you see anything?”

  The driver hunched over the wheel and thought for a second. Finally he shook his head. “No. Nothing obvious, anyway. It’s not like that house is that nice. Why would he have it wired up?”

  The leader exhaled loudly in frustration.

  “That old prick is just paranoid. I guess the two of ‘em got into it at the meeting.”

  The driver nodded. He’d witnessed it all.

  “It makes no sense,” Travis thought out loud.

  The driver nodded again, his face contorted into a tight grimace and said, “Anna better know what she’s into with this guy.”

  CHAPTER

  11

  Bao was on the tail end of his route. The summer was coming to an end, but it had been a blistering hot day. He needed two Gatorades and an energy drink just to get him through the day.

  “Hey Jerry,” Bao said, nodding to the store owner. He was a big man. Bao guessed that half the candy bars and sodas he used to fill the store’s machines were purchased by the owner himself.

  “Hey Bao. Hot one eh?”

  Bao nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. He bent over and lifted a plastic tray full of soda bottles.

  Jerry’s Electronics store was the best place to get electronics in Blue Creek. It had the biggest selection and the highest quality products. Jerry was originally from Florida and had been an assistant manager at Best Buy, so he knew the business well. Back in Florida, Jerry wasn’t likely to have climbed very high on the corporate ladder. The experiment had given him the opportunity he’d always waited for.

  Bao usually just went about his business, filling the machines and collecting coins. However, there had been a push for more personal contacts. Bao hated this because he had to talk to people, which he hated, and he had to write reports, which he hated even worse. But it was his job and he needed to step up.

  “Your shelves are almost empty, man.”

  Jerry nodded and smiled with satisfaction. His store had been successful enough that he’d already expanded his floor space and nearly doubled his workforce.

  “Business is booming, my friend. How about you?” Jerry asked, gesturing towards the stack of plastic totes Bao used to carry his stock.

  “Ah, you know. People like their snacks and their drinks,” Bao said, then grimaced. He tried not to look at Jerry’s ever-growing gut. The man seemed to take no offense.

  Jerry was a throwback to an earlier era. He was much like the immigrants that came to America at the turn of the 20th Century. They took jobs in factories and learned the operation inside out. Many of these workers either improved the process or the product, invented some new gadget, or saved and started their own business that then competed with their previous employer. It was how many millionaires we
re made. It was the beauty of capitalism. Like many successful businessmen before him, all Jerry needed was an opportunity.

  “Business has been ridiculous, actually,” Jerry said. “These people out here can’t keep a dime in their pocket without it burning a whole clear through.”

  “I’ve bought some stuff here myself, dude. What you sayin’?”

  Dave grinned at Bao and hit the button for a regular Coke.

  “And I do appreciate it. You’ve bought some nice stuff, but you’re nothin’ like some of these people. Today I have this customer come in. He’s all decked out in nice clothes, got the tats and a big platinum chain. Anyway, he says he wants a flat screen for every room in his house so he doesn’t miss anything,” Dave said, snickering. “I mean, seriously.”

  “I know what you mean,” Bao said, now filling the candy machine. “A lot of that going around?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. They’re spendin’ all their money. And what they gonna have to show for it? I should be like what’s his name over at the pawnshop. That guy is gonna make a killing.”

  Bao nodded, making a note of where he should place some vending machines.

  “Who’s they?” Bao asked.

  Jerry exhaled loudly. “Shoot kid. I wouldn’t be surprised if some people are already going broke. They got three or four cars, TVs, sound systems all over their big, fancy houses. You watch. You’ll see check loan joints, more pawn shops, bankruptcy lawyers. All that kinda stuff. When people are sufferin’ the vultures will circle,” Jerry said, making a circling gesture with his index finger.

  “Damn. And I thought this was supposed to be Utopia.”

  Jerry snickered and rolled his eyes.

  “Bao, people are people, no matter how much you give them. Broke people are broke for a reason. Rich people are rich for a reason. I’m telling you kid, there’s gonna be some cheap stuff for sale all over town here in the next few months if this keeps up.”

  Bao just nodded again. Duly noted.

  By the time Bao was finished with his route he had even more information. Someone was pulling enough cash together to start buying people’s excess cars. Not many residents had gotten that desperate, but a few suffering buyer’s remorse sold unneeded vehicles for far less than market value. Bao went to the nearly empty car lot and talked to the owners. He asked them about putting some machines at their place, but he was really looking for more gossip.

  Indeed, they had taken out a loan from one of two Blue Creek banks. They were anticipating an influx of new vehicles within the next few months. Would Bao want to buy one that they already had on the lot? Bao wasn’t interested, but he told them he would look in the future.

  Contact led to contact and he followed as many as he could. Bao wasn’t the only Insight spy to hear the rumblings. Many residents were living extravagantly and without a way to maintain or rebuild their wealth. Collectively, the spies’ reports would paint a disturbing, yet interesting picture. But the predictive results shouldn’t have come as a surprise—when people have money, they like to spend it.

  As Bao drove home that night, he saw a kettle of vultures circling high above what must have been some dead or dying animal. He shuddered involuntarily. Bao didn’t believe in omens, but his parents and grandparents sure did. He suddenly hoped that everything he heard today was just gossip.

  Bao looked up at the ghastly formation of birds again before they passed out of his view. He shuddered again, hoping he would forget the sight the next day and especially what it portended.

  Anna woke to the sound of him pulling up his pants. In all of the nights they’d been together, they’d never slept together until morning. Apparently he wanted to keep his emotional distance. Anna thought that was stupid—the two of them frequently engaged in the most intimate act possible. Still, she didn’t want to scare him away. She would give into this one idiosyncrasy. Anna looked at him through heavy eyes and asked what time it was.

  “Two. Sorry I woke you,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

  She smiled dreamily. He was such a jerk, she thought, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “Why can’t you just come back to bed? I’m not going to bite,” she said, giggling sleepily.

  “Not that I would mind that,” he said, grinning. “You know why. I like waking up in my own bed. Alone.”

  She nodded, hating herself for not being able to bargain with him.

  ‘It’s us together or nothing,’ she could say, but did she really want more from him than she was getting? Probably not. She was much smarter than him. He stimulated her in many ways, but intellectually was not one of them. Still, he had “it” and it was the “it” that she and Charlie were looking for.

  “Will I see you tomorrow … well … later today?” she asked.

  He pulled on his shirt and straightened his hair with his hands.

  “I don’t know,” he said, yawning loudly. “Probably.”

  She nodded again, but didn’t feel relieved. She hated herself for how insecure she felt. One of these days she was going to have to stop beating around the bush and tell him what she and Charlie were planning and what role he would play in those plans.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped his feet into his shoes. She reached around from behind and rubbed his stomach. When he was done he turned around and kissed her again. As the kisses became passionate he almost got undressed again, but he thought better of it and pulled away from her.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said brusquely, walking towards the door and not looking back.

  “Yeah. Sure,” she said, not angry or hurt anymore. She knew that in the end, she was going to get more out of him than he was going to get out of her.

  Nearly four in the morning and still no sleep. Charlie Henry gazed forlornly out his bedroom window. The Indian Summer nights in this part of the country were incredible. The days were still hot and dry, but the cool mountain air was refreshing.

  Charlie was far from sentimental. He hadn’t even attended his own mother’s funeral. It wasn’t sentiment, he reasoned. It was mostly lust that he felt for that girl, but she had succeeded in ending their relationship. Their interactions were strictly professional and only to do with their little … project. He rubbed the spot where her gorgeous body used to lie. He caressed the pillow where her beautiful hair would cascade down. He rolled onto his back, silently chiding himself for being such an emotional Lilliputian.

  Charlie sighed and pulled his blankets to his shoulders. He suddenly thought of that Patton Larsen. His mood quickly changed from melancholy to malevolence. He cursed Larsen bitterly under his breath. Perhaps it wasn’t Larsen he was angry at. It was Travis’ failure to remove him from the picture.

  Stalin ran Trotsky out of Russia and eventually took him out for good. Castro had similar success with Che, first marginalizing him, then pushing him out of the Cuban power structure. Others failed to eliminate their nemeses and later paid the price. He wasn’t sure why he thought of Larsen as his enemy. They had only that one verbal exchange. But Charlie Henry wasn’t used to being talked to like that—with such confidence and such contempt.

  Now that he was sufficiently angry, Charlie threw his sheets off of his body and rolled to the edge of the bed. His feet found his slippers and he let out a loud yawn. He was feeling older for some reason. The thought depressed him because when he’d first reached this new place he’d been so rejuvenated. Now that feeling was beginning to fade. He sneered in the dark. He needed a new plan, but he wasn’t going to be able to make one without coffee. He thought of Anna again and shook his head.

  “Oh Anna,” he said to no one. “What are you up to now?”

  Patton stood and clinked his knife against his wine glass.

  “I’d like to make a toast.”

  The room eventually went silent and all eyes turned to him. It was an in
timate gathering of friends–Patton and Jennifer, Frank and Shontae, and Mike and his new girlfriend–a girl that looked quite young to Jennifer and was quite a looker according to Patton.

  It was the evening of Labor Day, the holiday that unofficially signified the end of summer. The weather had finally turned. The days were still hot, but the night air was cool. Leaves high in the mountains were starting to turn colors. Football season had started. It was beginning to feel like autumn. Dinner was now over. Many of them were finishing dessert. The men had cigars and brandy. The women had wine.

  “Everyone,” he said, standing in a relaxed parade rest. “Jennifer and I have an announcement,” he said then paused to let the drama build. “We’re getting married next month.”

  The table erupted in cheers and there were some whoops of celebration. Shontae leaned over and kissed Jennifer on the cheek. The news wasn’t surprising, but it was welcome.

  “Congratulations,” Frank said, beaming, raising his drink to Patton.

  Mike rose and congratulated his friends’ announcement then toasted the continued success of their business venture. The toast was met with another round of hearty cheers. Business had indeed been good. In only six months, the three partners were well ahead of their original projections. They’d opened up markets throughout northern Utah and southern Idaho and were looking to start dealing with some farmers and ranchers in western Nevada.

  But this was an evening to forget business. All of the men had agreed before this get together that no one would bring up the company, margins, profits, or anything else business related. The festive mood grew and they poured another round of drinks.

  An hour later it was just Patton and Frank, sitting on lawn chairs on Frank’s grass. Empty beer bottles littered the grass around them. They were both nursing a whiskey and Coke and both held smoldering cigars. Frank took a long, satisfying draw from his cigar and leaned back and looked at the stars. They were so bright out here away from the city. The beauty and immensity of the night sky suddenly made him feel very small.

 

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