by J. D. German
Chapter 14 - Peace
Lynn drove her undercover vehicle – the ‘94 Miata – back to the CSIC office, talking to herself, as usual. “I wish I could keep this car. It fits me like a glove. It’s a little noisy with the convertible top up or down, but with stereo speakers in the headrest, I can still listen to my favorite music – oldies from when I was growing up. I wish I could keep it, but the company paid for it, so it has to go back for resale. It’s worth almost $3,000. New upholstery and a paint job would add another thousand. It’s in great shape mechanically with not too much mileage on it. The new upholstery and a paint job and it will like new. I think I’ll ask Dave if I can buy it from CSIC.”
When she entered the reception area Dave, O’Malley, Tom, and half a dozen other friends from CSIC were there to greet her. Dave got everyone’s attention and made a short speech congratulating her and welcoming her back from the undercover world. Afterwards, alone with Dave in his office, he gave her a hug.
“Your instincts on this operation were right on, Lynn. The Army has people watching the Machine Tools, Inc. warehouse –the company van that Dillon used to ship out the stolen crates. At the army’s request U. S. Munitions shipped out a truckload of RPGs without explosive warheads with no inventory inspection. The forklift drivers diverted three of the crates to the van, which transported them to Machine Tools. The crates had GPS trackers planted in them so the Army can track them all the way to the final destination. Once they have the entire chain identified they will roll it up, with arrests all the way back to the U. S. Munitions forklift drivers and Jake Dillon. Those guys will spend a long time in prison. If the stolen RPGs ended up is the hands of ISIS or Al Qaeda they could be tried for treason with a possible death sentence.”
Lynn thought about this. “I don’t think a death sentence for Jake and the forklift drivers is warranted – they were just greedy men trying to make a buck. But if some of those munitions were used to kill American soldiers, then they should get whatever is coming to them.”
“I agree with you on that issue, Lynn. Whatever happens to them, you did a superb job on this and I would like to give you this bonus check as a reward for boosting the reputation of my company.”
Lynn accepted the check and looked at it. “Four thousand dollars is too much, Dave. I can’t accept it. But if you were to offer me the Miata undercover car, I would gladly accept it.”
“Consider it done. I’ll let accounting know and have the title transferred to you. Now, about your immediate future. Jackson pulled some strings and got you into the next session of the hacking school in New York City. The school offers housing for out of town students, so we booked a room for you for the six-week term. It starts a week from Monday. Until then I want you to take some time off, with pay. Go somewhere where you can depressurize.”
Lynn was luxuriating in the huge garden tub back at the CSIC guest apartment with a glass of wine in her hand. She thought about how nice it would be if Jack could be in here with her – she would snuggle up spoon fashion with Jack behind her and his arms around her. She let her imagination run with that for awhile until it triggered the pain in her mind over losing him. ‘I need to find a new train of thought to distract me from how much it hurts.’
She directed her thoughts to the week and a half vacation Dave gave her, and what she would do with it. There was no one she wanted to visit, nowhere she longed to go. At her age she hadn’t created a bucket list yet, so she had given no thought to what she might have missed in life. She thought about Jack again. The short time we were together fulfilled my every dream. I felt more loved, more respected, more in love than any other time in my life. What else could I ever want . . . except more of it. That brought tears and a return of the pain. No matter what I think about, it always comes back to the pain, to the hole in my heart that Jack left behind. Lynn poured another glass of wine and directed her thoughts back to the fantasy of Jack being in the tub with her.
Lynn woke up laying across the bed with a towel wrapped around her . . . and a splitting headache. She groaned and rolled over on her back. It took a few minutes for her memory from last night to drag itself into her consciousness. “I should have quit after two glasses of wine. Why didn’t I. . . . because I was trying to kill the pain! It felt good when I got numb after the second bottle, but by then I didn’t have the sense to quit. I could be an alcoholic so easily. I would rather be numb than in emotional pain, but I have to fight that. I can’t let myself be dragged into this mind numbing state.”
She pushed herself up off the bed, put on a robe, and went to start the coffee. While it was brewing she removed two bottles of wine from the refrigerator and a bottle of vodka from the freezer. She lined them up on the counter and poured them down the drain one at a time. When the coffee was ready she poured a cup and dialed a number from her speed dial.
“I need a pep talk, Harriet. I got drunk again last night and I liked it – the escape from the pain. I need a friend to lean on, to help me get through this pain rather than wallow in it.”
“Oh, honey, I’ll do anything to help you through this. I can be up there by noon and we can talk.”
“I just had an idea, Harriet. Do you like riding in a sports convertible with the top down?”
“As long as it isn’t raining.”
“Do you feel like a cross-country trip in a Mazda Miata with me? We can pretend to be Thelma and Louise.”
“Do I get to be Louise?”
“Whatever works for you, dear. But we won’t drive over a cliff at the end.”
“Not unless we kill someone on the road.”
The next morning the two of them set out in Lynn’s Miata and headed west. Their destination was Telluride, Colorado, where the remains of Lynn’s home . . . and Jack and her granddaughter, were. Lynn was hoping that facing the origin of her painful memories might help her leave them behind. They could make the thirty-hour trip with one overnight stop near St. Louis. The two fifteen-hour days would be tiring, but with both of them driving it could be done. It was ten p.m. on the second night when they rolled into Denver, so they decided to stay at a Hampton Inn there and drive the last few hours to Telluride the next morning. The last part of the trip was over mountain roads that would make night driving a challenge.
After they finished supper at a nearby Cracker Barrel they sat in bed with their laptops to catch up with the day’s happenings. There wasn’t much going on in the news – the usual fighting in the middle east that’s been going on since Isaac and Ishmael, a new medical breakthrough for treating Parkinson’s disease, and the battle for control of congress that’s been going on for the past 200 years. The weather channel was forecasting a late snowstorm for the Rockies tomorrow.
“There might be some winter weather coming in tomorrow afternoon, Harriet, so we should get an early start.”
“Where are we staying in Telluride?”
“This late in the season there should be several ski lodges with rooms available. I’ll check online and get some reservations. What are you coming up with on your laptop.”
“I spend a lot of time on crime websites – learning what I can about interesting cases that stump the police. Occasionally I find something they missed, so I send them an email to get them back on track.”
“Anything interesting happening now?”
“There was a murder in a Philly hospital. Someone sneaked into the room of a guy named Dillon and smothered him with a pillow. Not much detail on the victim – and no leads on a suspect.”
“What! Was it Jake Dillon? He’s the one at U. S. Munitions who was smuggling RPVs out of the factory. I put him in the hospital when he tried to make a move on me. It looks like the people he was working for don’t want him to talk.”
“You were undercover at a munitions factory?
“Yeah, I was Cynthia Carson, Inventory Analyst. Some shipments weren’t making it to their destinations, so Dave sent me in to find out what was happening to them.
“Wow, wh
at a fun life you’re living, Lynn. I didn’t have that much action when I was with the Agency.”
“I hope Dave can keep interesting cases coming for me, especially if they involve computer hacking. . . . Oh, did I tell you? Dave is sending me to a hacker boot camp when we get back. It’s a place in New York City called The Recurse Center that runs a six-week course in programming for hackers. It gets its name from one of a programmer’s important tools – recursion. It’s when a program zeros in on solution by repeatedly applying an procedure. It’s one of a hackers main tools.”
“That sounds terrific, Lynn, but are you sure you will be okay all alone there? If you want I can come with you.”
“I think I’ll be all right, especially if this trip give me the catharsis I hope it does.”
“Well, you know where to find me if you need someone.”
“We better get some sleep. We should leave here no later than eight o’clock. See you in the morning.”
Lynn’s Miata rolled into Telluride just after noon, with dark clouds showing in the distance. They drove through town up to the ski area and The Peaks Resort and Spa. Lynn explained that she chose that one because it was close to Lynn’s old house, so they could hike over to Lynn’s property. They parked in front and a young man showed up with a luggage buggy to take their suitcases to the room, while another parked the car.
“This is a pretty classy place, Lynn, with lots of guests. How did you get us into a room?”
“I know the manager, Carole. She and I used to ski together when I lived here. She gave us the best suite in the house.”
As they walked through the door into the room Harriet said “Wow. You were right about that. What’s this place costing us?”
“Not that it matters, but Carole said everything is on the house. I told her that was unacceptable, and she said ‘Then you can’t stay here. You and Jack were two of my closest friends. It’s the least that I can do for you.’ So I gave in.”
After they had unpacked and put their clothes away, they went down to the lunch buffet, then headed over to Lynn’s property. The snow clouds were getting closerr, but it was a 15 minute walk so they decided to go on over there. They came out of the pine trees into a clearing with a driveway winding up the hill to a bare flat place cut into the side of the mountain. Lynn stopped in her tracks and looked up to where her house – her mountain ski home – used to be. A friend in the construction business had called her a month after . . . after it happened, and offered to clear the lot for her. She told him to go ahead and send her a bill, which he never did. She would stop by and see him about that before they left town and settle up.
They walked up the driveway until they were at the level of the house foundation. Her friend had cleared the land well – all evidence of the house and garage were gone, and some spring grass shoots were starting to sprout. Lynn took Harriet on a tour of the house floor plan and showed her the great room used to be, with it’s view of the ski area and the town below. As she moved around the site she pointed out the kitchen area – even the pipes had been removed there – the guest bedroom, and the master bedroom, where she and Jack had started their married life together. Those memories came flooding back as she looked where the bed had been, and the bathroom where they shared many showers. It was like all the memories she had been locked up inside her came boiling out, one after another. Harriet backed away to sit on a rock to let Lynn process her memories.
After several minutes tears welled up in Lynn’s eyes as she looked over at Harriet.
Harriet got up and put her arms around Lynn. “I’m sorry I agreed to let you come here. I can see the memories are just too painful.”
“No, these aren’t tears of pain, Harriet. They’re tears of joy for the wonderful memories that were released. I felt the pain lifted from me – I’m at peace, at least for now. Thank you for bringing me here.”
As Harriet hugged her, Lynn looked at the sky and saw snow starting to fall. “It’s time to head back. These spring snowstorms can dump a lot of wet, heavy snow in a very short time.” They started walking at a fast clip but didn’t get more than hundred yards into the woods when the snow descended on them like a heavy curtain. Lynn changed her pace to a trot with Harriet right behind her. In another few minutes the snow covered the path back to the hotel so they had to slow down and pick their way through the trees. As Lynn felt the chill against her skin she thought Damn. We should have brought jackets. If we don’t get back soon hypothermia will start setting in.
Fifteen minutes later they still hadn’t reached the hotel. Lynn stopped and pulled Harriet under a the low hanging branches of a large pine tree. “I think we’re lost. Even at this slower pace we should be there already. If we keep going we’ll just get further from the hotel. And we can’t stay here very long because we’ll get too cold to move.”
Harriet pulled out her cell phone to check their GPS location but couldn’t get a signal. “We can’t even call the lodge and ask for help without phone service. The snow is probably interfering with the signal. If it lets up we should be able to get through.”
“Don’t count on it. Cell reception has always been erratic here on the mountain. We need to make a fire, but I don’t have any matches. Do you?”
“No, I don’t have anything that could light a fire. There are plenty of dry dead branches under the tree here, but no way to get them burning. Do you know how to rub two sticks together?” Harriet added with a brief laugh.
“No, I missed that lesson when I was a Girl Scout. Let me think . . . something is trying to bubble up in my mind.”
As Lynn concentrated she thought she heard Jack’s voice in her mind, but it was probably just the wind in the trees. No, there it was again! . . . She mumbled out loud “Yes, yes, that’s it. Now I remember. Thank you Jack.”
“So we’re going to use something Jack taught you to build our fire?”
“Yes, and he just reminded me of it. Pile up lots of small sticks, while I take the battery out of my cell phone.”
Harriet didn’t know where Lynn was going with this, but she pulled together a mound of small branches and pine needles. Lynn slid the battery under the tinder, then pulled out her room key. She took off one of her leather hiking boots ripped the tongue out of it, and used it to hold the key while she short-circuited the battery terminals.
Nothing happened except that the leather between her fingers started smoking. But a few seconds later the battery split open and caught fire.
As the tinder started blazing Harriet let out whoop, then started adding larger and larger sticks to make the fire grow. In five minutes they had a big enough fire to keep them both warm with the heat trapped under the pine boughs. Lynn laughed and said “Take that, Girl Scouts.”
They huddled together next to the fire for the next thirty minutes then, just as quickly as it had started, the snow stopped falling and the sun came back out. Harriet checked her cell phone and saw the GPS coordinates of their location pop up. “Yesss! I’ll call the hotel and give them our coordinates.” She dialed the front desk and, after she explained their problem Lynn heard a pause . . . “No, no! This is not a hoax. I’m telling you the truth.” Another pause . . . “They hung up on me!”
“Here give me the phone.” Lynn redialed the hotel and as soon as the switchboard operator answered she took command of the conversation. “This is Lynn Preston. I want to speak to Carole Cunningham immediately. I’m a close personal friend of hers. . . . Hi Carole, it’s Lynn. My friend and I are in a bit of a fix and need your help . . .”
Twenty minutes later Carole’s husband, Bob showed up at their tree shelter. “Knock, knock. Is anybody home?”
The women crawled out from under the tree branches to see Bob and another man holding open blankets to wrap around them. Lynn gave Bob a hug and said, “You two are a welcome sight. How did you get here so quickly?
“We used our snowmobiles,” Bob answered as he stepped back and motioned behind him.
Harri
et asked “Why didn’t we hear the motors as you approached? Snowmobiles are noisy.”
Lynn answered for Bob, “Because these are electric snowmobiles made by the Sierra Snow Company – ultra light weight, seating for two, and whisper quiet.”
Bob looked at her in surprise. “How do you know about that? These have only been on the market for the past six months.”
“I . . . uh . . . I had an occasion to use one recently.” Lynn was talking about her visit to Alexei Brusilov’s log home in Northern Wisconsin, where she got even for Jack’s murder. She wondered if anyone had found him and his car at the bottom of the lake yet.
“Let’s get you girls back to the lodge and in front of a warm fire,” Bob said as he stepped into the saddle of his Sierra Snow Electric. Lynn climbed on behind him.
“These are pretty pricey vehicles. Why did you choose them?”
“Telluride has a new noise abatement law that will phase out gasoline models before next winter. With all the tourists buzzing around the area in rented snowmobiles it gets pretty noisy.”
“What will the rental businesses do? They won’t be able to afford to switch to electric models.”
“One of them has already closed down for good. The other two are trying to sell off their gasoline models to get some cash for the new electrics.”
“The environmentalists will own the country some day, then . . . look out for your personal freedom.”
Back at the resort Lynn, Harriet, Bob, and Carole sat in overstuffed chairs in front of a huge fireplace with cups of hot spiced wine, a favorite with skiers after a cold day on the slopes. Carole turned to Lynn. “I hope this little adventure didn’t ruin your vacation.”
“No, it’s given me exactly what I came for – peace about losing Jack. My mind is flooded with good memories about our time together. Now I can move on with my life.”
Harriet wondered if that life would include another man, but didn’t bring it up. It was too soon to discuss it. “Speaking of moving on, when are we going back?”
“As much as I love this place, I think we should leave tomorrow. We have a two-day drive ahead of us, and I want to spend a night or two at Jack’s place in West Virginia before I go back to work. If you don’t want to stay gone that long you could have Rick drive there and pick you up.”
“I think I’ll do that. We’ve only been gone a few days but I miss him already.”
The thought that she would never see Jack again started to bring Lynn down, but she quickly replaced it with thoughts of their good times together.
“Bob and Carole, thanks for you hospitality – and the rescue. I lived out here for several years and should know better than to go out when a snow storm is coming. Harriet, let’s go up and pack our luggage so we can get out of here at first light.”