“Hanz, I need you to come with me to investigate something outside the facility. Have a car waiting for us at the gate.”
There was only one possible reply to the order,
“Yes sir.”
As Hanz snapped around to leave, Warric stopped him with another order.
“There is one other thing. The two kids who broke into my facility are no longer of any use to me. Make sure they never leave here.”
Confused, Hanz snapped back around to Warric and asked,
“Do you mean kill them sir?”
Warric snapped,
“Yes kill them, why is that so hard to understand?”
Han replied,
“That will not be a problem. I just wanted to make sure.”
When Hanz was gone, Warric picked up the phone. When it was answered he said to his secretary,
“His name is Gary Albright. I need you to find out where on Jasper Street he lives and send the address to my car, I will be there soon.”
A few minutes later a Black Cadillac Escalade driven by Hanz left the Factory and drove down the Copper Mine Road aiming for Twin Rivers. Warric was in the back seat looking at a piece of paper coming from the printer in the car. He passed the paper over to Hanz and commanded,
“Set the GPS for this address on Jasper Street.”
Hanz turned onto Maple Street, drove past the shopping mall and hospital and eventually turned onto Jasper Street.
When stopped in front of the address, Warric rolled the shaded window down and saw where Gary lived. He was disappointed to see a rustic old house in the poorer part of town. Turning to Hanz he asked for confirmation,
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
Hanz was used to having his actions questioned and so simply pointed to the GPS and said,
“Yes sir, that’s it. Is something wrong?”
“No, I guess I was just expecting a more affluent neighborhood. The car will attract too much attention here on the street. Go up the driveway and park behind the house.”
It was a tight squeeze for a big car on a narrow driveway but Hanz managed it without a scratch.
According to the information he had on the house, it should be empty. Apparently the owner, a Ruth Albright had suffered an accident from a hit and run driver and was still in the hospital. The grandson she was in charge of was, well as he hoped, had been taken care of. After Hanz had cleared the area, nobody in the house or back yard, he returned to the car and opened the back door for Warric. He stood by the car and looked around the property. Pleased that the car was out of sight, he walked to the back door. Hanz reported,
“The door was open but nobody was inside.”
After they slipped on black leather gloves, both entered the house.
Upon inspection, it was clear that somebody had broken in and ransacked the place. Furniture was upended and the cushions on the sofa had been sliced open with a sharp knife. The kitchen was a mess, pots and pans on the floor and cupboards were left open. Both bedrooms were no better off. Hanz stated the obvious,
“Somebody was sure looking hard for something.”
Fearing that it was the same thing he was looking for, Warric pointed to the attic stairs and said,
“The kid said that it was in the attic.”
Nothing in the attic had been disrupted. The mannequin stood ever vigilant albeit filled with bullet holes and all the boxes were in their proper place. The most out of place thing in the attic was what Gary had assembled on the large desk against the far wall. While Hanz looked around, poking at this and that, Warric approached the strange electronic contraption.
He stood both confused and amazed that whatever this was, it was capable of transmitting the same frequency that Amina Green was tuned into. He noticed that the Factory owned motherboards and computer parts were hooked up to capacitors and transistors. However, as far as he was concerned it was just a jumble of wires and intergraded circuits with no conceivable working function. How on earth was it possible to receive such highly sought after transmissions?”
He was expecting to see something a little more innovative and complex, not just a junk yard of components. Thinking that it was wrong, that they had not discovered a magic frequency in this mess, disappointed, Warric turned to Hanz and said,
“It must be in the basement. Let’s look there.”
With both backs turned and walking toward the door, they heard,
“Hello? I can hear you. Who is there?”
Warric snapped around and practically ran back to the source of the voice. Hoping that it could be a two-way conversation, he spoke to the mismatched components.
“Yes, I am here.”
He then asked a most hopeful question,
“Who are you?”
“I think my name is Amina but I’m not sure anymore.”
He then asked what he thought might be the clincher, that it really was a voice from the Factory.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. Everything is dark. I think I am dead.”
“Are there other voices there with you?”
“I think so. I sometimes hear the names Alexander and Robert. Are they dead too?”
That was good enough for Warric, Alexander Graham and Robert Ellsworth were the other two children hooked up in the laboratory along with Amina.
He didn’t know how but it was clear that this tangle of electronics had somehow captured what they needed, the missing frequency to strengthen the synergy connection. Right from the start it was thought that an organic brain wave frequency was the solution. Now, and somehow he discovered that frequency can be augmented by artificial means. It was the discovery of a lifetime, the discovery that guaranteed his funding. With great excitement he turned to Hanz and demanded,
“We have to get this equipment back to the Factory.”
Hanz agreed and started to grab at the great pile of tubes. Warric, understanding the danger, suddenly shot out his hand and yelled,
“No, not that way. If we take it apart we might lose the delicate way it is connected to the girl. Even removing just one connection or cutting one wire might collapse the connection and destroy it. Clearly it was put together haphazardly and by a one in a million chance it connected to us. We need to get it to the laboratory in one piece, just the way it is and study it.”
Hanz came to a grinding halt. Although he understood the importance of one piece, he looked around the attic and voiced that impossibility.
“But how? There is only that narrow door down the steep steps. It will not fit in one piece.”
Realizing that Hanz was right, Warric paced the attic pondering the difficulty. He saw the narrow door, looked to the only small window up near the rafters and then back to the contraption on the large desk. Hanz then saw him reach for the phone and call the Factory.
“Put a large fork-lift on a five ton flat deck truck and get them over to the GPS location I’ll send you and do it in double time.”
Just as he was about to hang up he snapped,
“And a chainsaw.”
Hanz looked to the far wall facing the driveway and suddenly understood the plan.
It only took thirty-five minutes to get everything to the house. The truck driver had difficulty getting the big truck into the narrow driveway but with minimum damage to the fence, soon it was parked up tight against the side of the house. Two other black Cadillacs soon arrived and parked in the street. Despite it being a cloudy day, six mean looking men all wore dark sunglasses.
Mr. and Mrs. Crow, who lived across the street and down one lot, were out for their stroll and stopped to see the strange goings on at the Albright house. They saw one of the men with the dark sunglasses grab something off the truck and enter the house with it. Mr. Crow said,
“That looked awfully like a chainsaw.”
Mrs. Crow thought she knew what was going on and said,
“I suppose Ruth is finally going to get some serious remodeling done.”
Chapter 32
At the police headquarters Edith was on the phone. When learning who the caller wanted to talk to, she looked up at the ‘report board’ and saw that he was in the precinct. She said,
“Yes he is in. I’ll connect you to Deputy Isaac Rutherford now.”
Isaac was at his desk pounding the computer, busy with his case of the three missing children. He had not gathered enough evidence to implicate Doctor Fran Jorden in the kidnapping conspiracy, at least yet. However, by her own confession she knew enough to testify that it was the people at the Factory who ordered the kidnapping. He put her name on the witness list.
His phone rang. It was Edith at the front desk.
“There is a Doctor Fran Jorden on line two for you.”
Snapping the phone up to his ear he said,
“Yes Doctor, this is Deputy Isaac Rutherford. What can I do for you?”
There was tension and fear in her voice.
“I need your help.”
“In what way?”
“Last night somebody broke into my trailer in Valley North. The caretaker knew I had moved out and this morning saw the front door was open. Suspecting a robbery he entered and when seeing the bedroom knew something was wrong.”
“What did he see Doctor?”
Her reply was dressed in fear.
“There were bullet holes in the pillow. If I had been there, that pillow would have been my head.”
Understanding what could have happened, as per training, Isaac remained calm and asked,
“So, can I presume that you are no longer in Valley North?”
“Yes. I took your advice and left. I drove over to my parent’s house in Willow Brook.”
He typed her new location into his file and said,
“Very well. Stay there until I contact you. I’ll call Judge Clemens and get you in the Witness Protection Program. For that to happen however I’ll need to convince him that you will testify what you did and who paid you for it. Will you do that?”
It was a no brainer. She understood that without the witness protection program eventually there would be another pillow with bullet holes and this time with her blood splattered all over it. For the sake of the twins and indeed her life, without hesitation she said,
“Yes, I will testify and I know just who to incriminate.”
“Very well Doctor. Give me those names now and I’ll set the wheels in motion immediately.”
Deputy Grant Lloyd was sitting at his desk behind Isaac. With one shoulder pressing a phone to his ear, he was writing as fast as he could. Because he was listening to every word the Doctor said, money signs again spun in his eyes like a winning slot machine. Maybe he would be able to keep the five grand he had kept as his fee after all. On his way out of the precinct, going to the pay phone over in the grocery store, he stopped to move his pin over to ‘out’.
Edith was on the phone again. When seeing Grant was preparing to leave, she covered the mouth piece and said to him,
“I have a domestic disturbance complaint from a Mister Crow. Are you able to take it?”
Wanting desperately to make a private phone call, Grant pretended to be busy and said,
“No, I’m busy. If it’s only a domestic issue give it to the rookie.”
Agreeing that it was just a simple domestic issue she said,
“Yes, it’s just up on Jasper Street. He should be able to handle that. I’ll assign it to him.”
Suddenly Grant stopped dead in his tracks. Jasper Street? He knew that was where Ruth Albright lived. The old woman had filed a Restraining Order against the man he was just about to call with a new address for the Doctor, Rick Calhoun. Fearing a connection, he reorganised his priorities, approached the counter and said,
“Oh what the hell. Give me the damn address, I’ll take it.”
Having no suspicion, simply a senior Deputy protecting a Rookie, Edith handed him the address and went about her business.
A few minutes later, Deputy Grant Lloyd turned off Maple Street and onto Jasper Street. As he approached the address he saw a black helicopter circling the house. He knew it belonged to the Factory and it was not gathering weather reports. When parked in front of the house, he saw the truck sitting in the driveway. Warric was standing out front talking to a security officer when Grant approached. A few words were exchanged between Grant and Warric and then both walked to the back of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Crow, along with a man walking his dog stood across the street and watched with interest what was happening at the Albright house.
The man with the chainsaw followed Warric to the stairs and up to the attic. Grant followed both but paused when seeing the massive damage to the kitchen and the rest of the house. Not knowing who or what caused it, and not caring he simply continued to follow Warric up to the attic. Once in the attic, the man with the chainsaw didn’t know what to do with it and so stopped and looked at Warric. Warric looked to Hanz and snidely said,
“Did you want me to do it?”
Snapping into action, Hanz took the chainsaw and after two mighty heaves on the starter cord it roared. Instantly the attic was filled with the angry thunder of a chainsaw.
Starting at the floor, Hanz pressed the buzzing blade into the wall and regardless of damage, struggled to rip upward. Because he didn’t care if there were wires in the wall or anything else, it only took a few minutes for him to cut a great square in the wall. With a mighty boot, half of the attic wall fell outward and crashed onto the truck in the driveway. From the attic there was now a great view of downtown Twin Rivers in the distance. Suddenly it was a lot brighter in the gloomy attic. Mr. and Mrs. Crow assumed Ruth was putting in a big picture window.
When Grant saw the damage and Hanz still holding the chainsaw he said to him,
“I see you have been a busy little bee Hanz.”
Hanz merely nodded. Warric walked up to Grant and asked,
“And just what is it that you see Grant?”
Grant, seeing nothing to get excited about, well maybe a growing bank account for keeping his mouth shut said,
“Nothing Mister Warric. I just came by to see what is going on, that’s all.”
Warric sarcastically replied,
“I suppose you see a few grand deposited in your private account do you?”
Grant smiled and said,
“Funny, that’s exactly what I see too”
With more dollar signs spinning in his head, Grant left the attic and walked outside to the side of the house. It was there that he bumped into Rick Calhoun. Judging by their abrupt stop and expression, both were surprised to see each other. Grant was the first to recover and snapped,
“You owe my two grand.”
In a well-used groveling manner Rick held up a hand and tried his best to explain,
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. You gave me the wrong address man. I’ll still do the job when you find out where she really is. Give me a chance and I’ll make it all good.”
Grant nodded and said,
“Okay, I have her new address in the car. Get it done right this time.”
He then added,
“What the hell are you doing here anyway?”
Rick recognized the upper hand, laughed and said,
“It looks like we both work for the Factory huh? I do odd jobs for them and show up for stuff like this.”
Grant understood and said,
“You mean you are a fall guy for them. If something goes wrong they put a bullet in your head and blame everything on you.”
Rick dropped his stupid grin faster than a dead bird plummeting to the ground.
Although stunned at the accusation that he might be mere cannon fodder and too self-centred to accept that it might be true, Rick shook it off and said,
“I need a coffee.”
At that he started up the back porch and entered
the kitchen with Grant right behind him. While standing in the cluttered kitchen, Rick knew he had to look surprised when seeing the damage else Grant might get suspicious. He said,
“Looks like somebody broke into the house maybe looking for money or something, huh?”
Rick then walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed the coffee can. Looking to Grant he said,
“Do you want some?”
“Yeah sure, make a pot for the other guys too.”
Before Rick could take off the lid Warric came into the kitchen, pointed to Rick and demanded,
“You, out of the house now.”
It was no use arguing or discussing it. It was not a suggestion. Rick put the coffee tin back on the counter and reluctantly left the house.
Up in the attic, Hanz and a couple of men were looking at the large table crowded with whatever Gary had created. It was difficult to slide the table over to the yawning hole in the wall and not jar the contraption too much. Hanz was busy voicing concerns and ordering attentiveness and caution to the fragile components. The mannequin was shoved over to the pile of papers and from there silently watched the operation.
With the table now at the edge of the hole the first problem arose. The fork lift on the flat deck truck could not lift the pallet high enough for the men to push the table out onto it. Thinking fast, Hanz looked up at the circling helicopter and grabbed his phone. With only a few problems and some mighty heaves the pallet was lifted the rest of the way up to the attic floor. Finally when the table and its delicate contents were safely on the pallet, it was tied down with ropes.
The Factory Page 18