When they had secured the building, they de-briefed the pastor and his staff. Then, they drove back to Langley.
When they got back to Langley, Zeke and Agent Johnson were waiting for them in the lobby. Agent LaDividico briefed them both on what went down at the church.
“Good work, guys,” said Agent Johnson. He drove Zeke back to his home in Silver Spring.
“Well, I guess I better go into the station tomorrow,” said Zeke. “I still owe Harvey a story.”
“Just remember to vet it by me,” reminded Agent Johnson.
“Definitely. I’ll email you the story on a secure connection.”
“Sounds good.”
Zeke walked up to his modest three-bedroom house. The pumpkin he had placed on the front step was still sitting there surprisingly undisturbed. It wasn’t the best of neighborhoods.
Time to decorate for Christmas, he thought.
Back home, his mom and dad would’ve already gotten a tree. They usually had one up before the end of Thanksgiving weekend.
Abby would love it there, he thought. Nope, better squelch that. Too soon. Enough of this.
He needed to write a story, vet it by Agent Johnson, and pitch it to Harvey. Zeke worked through the night until he finished the story and passed out on the couch. He woke up at 7:00 am to sunlight shining brightly through the living room window. Coffee…coffee…coffee…coffee…was all that ran through his brain. So, he put on a full pot and waited for it to boil. He was not sure if it was the best coffee, but the best part of coffee drinking is the smell, and that pot percolating over a gas flame filled the house with the most amazing smell that yelled, wake up!
He poured his first cup into a solid white coffee mug he purchased from Waffle House. No other way to drink it. So eager to taste the full-bodied aroma, he didn’t even put in his usual one creamer. As he sat at the kitchen table and sipped from his first cup of the day, he realized: It was Monday morning.
Today, he would go to the station and unwrap a story that no one else had, and the world was waiting for it.
Zeke put the rest of the coffee in a thermos and took it to work with him. He pulled up to the station in his red Toyota pickup. He walked to the back of his truck and looked at his damaged bumper. He had to take care of that. It reminded him of Abby and the crazy weekend. Then, he jogged up those familiar white stone steps. There was Julie, as usual. She was a fixture at this place. Would she ever get out?
“Is this your last week?” asked Julie.
“Yep, just wrapping up a story for Harvey,” said Zeke.
Zeke bounced up the stairs to the second floor. He walked up to Harvey’s office and knocked on the door. “It’s Zeke. Can I talk to you?”
“Come in. Are you still on the payroll?” asked Harvey.
“Last week, and I got a story for you?”
“Are you’re talkin’ about the assassination attempt?”
“Yep,” said Zeke.
“Well, it’s about time,” said Harvey.
He filled Harvey in on the whole story.
“Write it up.
“I already have,” said Zeke. “Of course, I can’t tell the public all that I’ve told you, and I’ll have to vet it with Agent Johnson, but I’ll include whatever they allow.”
“No problem,” said Harvey. “Give me what you can. Let me know when Agent Johnson has approved it. We’ll do a Breaking News piece. But I’d like to go with it no later than the Six O’clock News cycle. BlackRock is not gonna believe this.”
Zeke went back to the bullpen looking for Sly, but he hadn’t arrived yet. Zeke was reading over the story when Sly walked in.
“Zeke, I need to talk to you,” said Sly. “I’ve been trying to call you, but you didn’t answer.”
Zeke pulled out his cell phone. His battery had died. “What is it?”
“I found Ronald Burch and paid him a visit,” said Sly.
“The local weapons dealer. Agent Johnson said not to worry about him. He’s legit. Abby ran him through the database and said he’s clean.”
“He knows Agent Johnson,” said Sly.
“I’m sure Agent Johnson had reason to check him out on occasion,” said Zeke.
“He did a little more than check him out,” said Sly. “Agent Johnson introduced him to Abdul Muti Poya.”
Zeke scratched his head. “Abdul Muti Poya and Agent Johnson are not exactly on friendly terms,” said Zeke.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Sly.
Zeke put his hand on his head and lightly squeezed his forehead. “Wait a minute. Wai—wai—ahhhh minute. Are you suggesting that Agent Johnson has more than a legitimate connection with Abdul?”
“That’s what I suspect,” said Sly.
“But why would Burch admit anything to you?”
“I don’t think he realized what was going on. He didn’t really admit anything. I was asking him if he knew Abdul Muti Poya, and he said yes. I asked him if he knew Agent Johnson. He said yes. He told me that Poya and Johnson came into his shop together and Johnson asked him ‘to hook him up with what he needed.’ That’s how he put it.”
“I need to talk to Agent Johnson,” said Zeke. “I can’t believe he has anything to do with Poya.”
Zeke stopped by Harvey’s office to tell him that the story was still developing and that he needed to go over to Langley to see Agent Johnson in person.
Zeke drove over to Langley without calling Agent Johnson first. On the way, he kept squeezing his nose between the index finger and thumb of his right hand.
This can’t be. It really can’t be, he thought. A career CIA agent. There must be an explanation.
Zeke arrived and entered the building. He approached security and asked them to notify Agent Johnson of a visitor.
Agent Johnson came down the stairs. “Hey, Zeke. What’s up?”
“Can we take a walk outside the building?” asked Zeke.
With a look of suspicion, Agent Johnson asked, “Can’t we talk here?”
“It’s personal,” said Zeke. “I need your advice.”
“Sure,” said Agent Johnson.
Zeke walked Agent Johnson to his truck.
“Get in,” said Zeke.
“Where are we going?” asked Agent Johnson.
“The walking and biking path along the Potomac,” replied Zeke.
After Zeke drove to the path, they got out and began walking.
“You’ve been like a big brother to me,” said Zeke. “You took a chance on me. You instructed me, coached me, and encouraged me. You brought me on board. I owe you a lot.” Zeke turned to him and offered his hand. Agent Johnson accepted it. Zeke looked him in the eye.
“What do you see?” asked Agent Johnson.
Zeke’s eyes teared up. After he gained his composure, he said, “You have no armor with which to wage war against the evil one. Did you help Abdul Muti Poya secure weapons for the assassination attempt?”
“Yes,” replied Agent Johnson.
“Did you tell Abdul that the president and vice president would go to that church on Sunday?” asked Zeke.
“Yes,” replied Agent Johnson. “I hated him, the president. I hated his policies and what he stood for. He’s such an arrogant man. He wasn’t fit to be president. It’s not just me, and it’s not just this agency.”
Special Agent LaDividico appeared from behind a tree. “We got it. Tom, I’m sorry I have to do this. I truly am,” said Agent LaDividico. He cuffed him and read him his rights.
“Better you than me,” said Zeke to Agent LaDividico. “I couldn’t have done it.”
Zeke went back to the station to finish the story. He called Special Agent LaDividico. “Agent LaDividico, Zeke here. I need you to vet this story for me. Can I send it to you?”
“Sure,” said Agent LaDividico.
Zeke emailed him the story and told him he needed his feedback within the hour. When he got Agent LaDividico’s feedback, he made a few quick changes and took the story to Harvey. Harvey read the first
line out loud.
“On Sunday morning, the president and vice president of the United States missed church through no fault of their own.”
The story ended with a comment from the pastor of Tyson’s Baptist Church. He told Secret Service Agent LaDividico to tell the president and vice president that if they could not make it to church, he would gladly bring church to the White House. There was nothing incriminating about Agent Johnson or the CIA in the story.
“Good story,” said Harvey. “A little bit of a soft touch, but I like it. Let Sly read it and edit it, and I’ll air at six o’ clock.”
Zeke told Harvey about Agent Johnson and the CIA connection. But they both agreed that while the CIA revelation was a great find and would be a total bombshell, they could not go public with it at this time. There was not enough corroborating evidence for such an accusation.
“Sure thing, Boss.” Zeke took the story to Sly. “Boss wants you to read and edit this. Sly, put your name on it,” said Zeke. “Make sure the anchor gives you the byline. I promised you I’d give you credit for the story. Anyway, you helped me.” Then he bolted out of the room to call Abby.
“Hi, Zeke. What’s up?” greeted Abby.
“Hi, Abby. Could we get together and talk?”
“OK,” said Abby. “Where do you want to meet?”
“How about the Pentagon Row Outdoor Ice Rink at five pm?”
“Oh, I like that place. I need to warn you, though. I’m not a very good skater.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” replied Zeke.
“OK. I’ll meet you there at five pm.”
It was a thirty-minute drive, but since some of the roads were closed between 3:45 and 6:30, he needed to leave at 3:30 to get past the blockages. He took Georgia Ave. South into DC and was able to beat all the road closings and get onto the Arlington Memorial Bridge crossing into Virginia by 3:45. From there he continued on Memorial Circle and took the South Arlington Boulevard Exit. He continued on South Washington Boulevard and merged onto Columbia Pike. He made a left on South Joyce Street. The Pentagon Row Outdoor Ice Rink was on his right.
The rink was surrounded by three- or four-story buildings, mostly shops but some condos. At one end of the rink stood a large Christmas tree fully decorated. At the other end were several chairs around a firepit. It was only 4 pm and still light out.
This place will turn romantic in the dark under the lights, thought Zeke. He proceeded to look for a restaurant or bar that could serve him a Manhattan while he waited for Abby. He had acquired a taste for Manhattans, but when he spotted a Tex-Mex, he changed his mind and opted for a margarita. He went up to the bar and ordered a lime margarita on the rocks, top shelf, patron, no salt with a maraschino cherry. When the bartender brought out the margarita, Zeke tried to pick out the maraschino cherry, but someone from behind beat him to the punch. He turned around to find Abby standing there with his maraschino cherry.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” said Abby.
“I had to beat all the three forty-five road closings along Rock Creek Parkway,” said Zeke. “So, I came early.”
“Me too,” said Abby. “I thought I’d stop in here for a happy hour drink.”
“Well, since we’re here. How about an appetizer before skating?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Abby.
Zeke motioned to a waiter to seat them. While they waited for a table, Zeke ordered Abby a margarita and another maraschino cherry for himself.
After they got a table, the waiter brought some nachos. They ordered an appetizer of cheese filled jalapeños.
“So, did you enjoy Williamsburg?” asked Zeke.
“It was OK,” said Abby.
“Just OK?”
“Well, I enjoyed being with you much more,” said Abby. They sat gazing into each other’s eyes until the margarita and jalapeños arrived. Abby picked up one of the jalapeños and placed it gently on Zeke’s lips. Zeke took a bite. Then, he did the same with Abby. They took an occasional sip of their margaritas. This continued until they ate two of the four jalapeños. Then, Zeke said, “Let’s do some skating.”
“OK,” said Abby. “But, I’m not very good. I’ll need some help.”
“No problem,” said Zeke.
They rented some skates and went out on the ice. Zeke stood facing Abby, skating backward while Abby tried to keep her balance and get some forward motion. He held her in his arms at first and then moved his arms away holding her hands as she balanced. He looked into her beautiful light blue eyes.
“Abby, I just learned some very disturbing news. Actually, I haven’t fully processed this myself yet.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know how to say this.” said Zeke.
“Just say it,” said Abby.
“I just found out that Agent Johnson was an accomplice in the assassination attempt.”
“What?” asked Abby “You must be mistaken. There’s no way.”
“It’s true. He admitted to it. Told me himself.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Abby.
“Neither can I. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I still wouldn’t believe it. I think you can skate by yourself now,” said Zeke as he let go of her hands. He wasn’t ready to ask her any questions.
The End
Sneak Preview
In Book 1 of Soul Reader, Zeke Jackson finally believes that he has received a divine gift which he has already used to foil an assassination attempt on the president and vice president. But God has bigger plans for this flawed hero. Join him in Book 2, as this touch-enabled, real-time interactive, spirit-powered psychometric wades further into the swamp and uses his divine gift for such a time as this. And, see if the relationship with Abby pans out.
About the Author
Dante F. Lupinetti has lived in the greater Washington DC area for fifty years. Married with five grown children and nine grandchildren, Dante retired from a software engineering career after spending forty-five years commuting around the DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia) as he worked for various defense contractors and commercial companies. Dante has been an elder in his church and he and his wife, Sue, lead a small group Bible study.
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Soul Reader Series: Book1: Touch Enabled Page 18