The Dead Peasants' Contract: A Sequel to The Dead Peasants File (The Dead Peasants' Series Book 2)

by L. Craig Harris

  Dillon sat at the console and put his hands on the keyboard and mouse. He glanced back at Travis. “Okay, what time did you last see her.”

  “Around nine o’clock.”

  “Let’s see.” He input the time and began to check the different cameras. Workers had green dots over them on the screen. Then, they all saw Julia’s red hair. She was walking toward the health supplies aisles. A large man with a blue signature above him approached her and grabbed her by the arm. He appeared to show her a gun he was concealing under his sport jacket.

  Christopher’s eyes grew large. He put his hand on Travis’ shoulder and moved closer to him to steady him. On the screen, the man walked Julia out of the store and into the darkness. Dillon backed it up to an onscreen shot that showed the man’s face. He glanced back at Christopher, then hovered the mouse on the blue dot. It said his name: Matt Douglas.

  Travis started to fall backward. Christopher and an officer grabbed him and helped him sit in an empty chair. Travis put his face in his hands.

  “Do you know this man?” an officer said.

  “Yes, he works for Morgan Retail,” Dillon said. “He’s one of Charles Morgan’s security guards.” Dillon turned and looked at Travis. “Don’t you worry, we’re going to get her.” He looked at the police officers. “I can track him.” He changed the screen to the blue and green dots and began to look for Matt’s signature. He widened it out to show more territory. Many of the dots merged together over such a large area. He clicked a tab and typed Matt’s name on a keyboard to filter only him. They watched his blue dot move across the screen to the Morgan Warehouse. “There they are.”

  The signature stopped outside the building, stayed in place for several minutes, then disappeared to the northwest. Dillon clicked the mouse a couple of times, studying the screen. “He took her to the helipad at the warehouse, then they flew west. I lost them after that.”

  “Where do you think he’s taking her?” Christopher said.

  Dillon put his finger across his upper lip and studied the screen a moment. “I don’t know, maybe Denver?”

  “Why do you think that?” An officer said.

  Dillon looked at him. “I think he’s taking her to Charles Morgan.”

  “Well, when he took her across the state line, this became a federal case,” the officer said. “We’ll call the FBI.” He looked at the screen. “Can we get a copy of this surveillance video?”

  Dillon opened a draw under the counter near him and pulled out a flash drive. He put it into a USB slot on his computer and downloaded the section of the video that showed the kidnapping. He removed it from the computer and handed it to the officer. “Here you go.”

  The officer put it in his pocket and looked at Travis. “Those Hoover boys don’t mess around. They’ll get her back for you.”

  Travis stood to his feet and reached out his hand. “Thanks guys. I appreciate this.”

  “We have your number,” the other officer said. “We will call you as soon as we hear anything.”

  “Thank you sir.” Travis watched the officers leave the room, then he closed the door behind them. He looked at Christopher and Dillon. “If he took her to Denver, then that’s where I’m headed.”

  “You can’t go alone,” Dillon said. “I have to go with you. I can track them. The FBI can’t, but I can.”

  “But what about your job?” Travis said.

  “What are they gonna do? Demote me again? I’m already on the graveyard shift.” He turned and looked back at the screens. “This is all automated anyway.”

  “I’m going too,” Christopher said.

  Dillon looked at him for a moment, then nodded his head. “Okay.” He looked at Travis. “We’ll find her.”

  “Thank you,” Travis said. He was quiet for a moment. “Do you think they’ll hurt her?”

  “No, they’re not going to hurt her.” Christopher raised his voice. “We’re going to go get her and bring her back.” He turned to exit the room. “We can take my car.”

  Dillon stood up. “Okay, let me go by my house. I want to get a couple of things.” He looked at Travis. “Follow me.” He looked back at Christopher. “Can we leave our cars at the church?”

  “Sure.” Christopher looked at his watch. “I’ll meet you guys there in thirty minutes.”

  When they got out into the parking lot to get into their cars, Dillon followed Christopher to his car. “Tell Rachel to take Stephen and head to her mom’s.” He paused. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “This is a nightmare!” Rachel said. “I can’t believe you are going back there.”

  “I have to.”

  “It’s a trap!” She raised her voice. “Morgan’s trying to lure you to Denver so he can kill you!”

  “No, sweetie. He’s not that smart.” He searched for words. “We have to go get Julia. We can’t just let him take her.” He pulled her up tight to him and hugged her strongly.

  “I’m so scared,” she said into his chest.

  “God is going with me. He saw us through this before and he will again.” He held her a moment. “I want you and Stephen to go to your mom’s. Just until I get back.” He looked in her eyes. “Will you do that for me?”

  She nodded.

  He walked into Stephen’s room and stood and watched him playing a video game for a moment. “Hey sport, did you catch any little monsters today?”

  He didn’t look away from the screen. “Yeah, a pretty good one over at the battlefield.”

  “That’s good. Listen, I hate to do this to you, but I need you and Mom to move in with Grandma tonight. It’s just a precaution, just to be safe until I get back.”

  “What?” Stephen jerked around.” What’s this about?”

  Christopher reached down and scratched behind Rox’s ear. “Morgan kidnapped Julia, remember her? Travis’ wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we’re going to Denver get her back.”

  Stephen put down the controller. “Don’t you think you should let law enforcement do something like that? I mean, I’m just sayin’.”

  “The FBI is on the case. Travis is keeping in touch with them, but they can’t track them down and Dillon can.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to go, but I can’t stop Travis from going, and I don’t want him to go alone.” He stopped. “What would you do?”

  Stephen had a serious look on his face. “I don’t know, Dad. I guess I’d go.”

  Christopher moved toward him. “Give me a hug.” The two embraced. “I guess you’re the man of the house until I get back. Take care of Rox and your mom.”

  Rachel helped Christopher pack his shaving kit and threw it in a small suitcase with some socks, underwear, jeans and a shirt. She followed him out to the car. “Poor Julia, she’s been through so much already. I just pray they don’t hurt her.”

  “We’re going to make sure they don’t,” Christopher said. “But yes, please pray for her and for us.” He hugged her again and got into the car. “I have my phone and the charger. Text me when you get to your mom’s.” He backed out of the driveway and drove to a gas station to fill the tank. Then he headed to the church.

  Dillon and Travis were already there. Dillon put his shaving kit in the trunk, but put a bag containing his AR-15 and .38 handgun, along with several magazines and boxes of ammunition, in the floor of the front seat. “I had a spare toothbrush for Travis,” he said.

  The cicadas were loud around the parking lot. The late-summer night air was warm on Christopher’s skin. “Gabby was okay with this?”

  “Yeah, she wasn’t thrilled. They’re going to her sister’s.” He looked over at Christopher. “Help me with this.” He pulled out a roll of foil and some duct tape. He tore off several inches of the foil and folded it a couple of times. “Tape this to my back, right on top of that scar.”

  Christopher cut the tape with his teeth. “Do you think this will block the signal?”

  “It might. It might disr
upt it some anyway.” Dillon tore off another square and taped it to his chest, opposite of the microchip, then pulled some foil over his shoulder and taped it down. “It won’t hurt to try.”

  He put his shirt back on, walked over to the driver’s side, and got in. “I’ll drive. I was going to stay up all night at work anyway.”

  Christopher was glad to hear this. He got into the passenger side and Travis took his place in the back seat. Dillon pulled out onto the thoroughfare and headed west. For several miles Travis was quiet in the back seat. Christopher thought he may have drifted off, but Travis assured him he was too keyed-up to sleep.

  Christopher’s eyes were heavy. He watched the lights zipping by out the window. Soon, the neighborhood illuminations faded and it was dark. He could see the stars shining in the blackness above them. He silently prayed for their safety and for Julia. He glanced at the laptop sitting between he and Dillon on the front console. Dillon would glance over at it every few minutes.

  “Did you find them?” Christopher said.

  “No.” He looked over at it. “But it’s okay, I’ll find them again when we’re closer.” He turned it around toward Christopher. “You see that?”

  Christopher could see a red flashing signal at the bottom of the screen. “What is that?”

  “It’s an alarm showing that the system can’t find me. I guess the foil is working.” Dillon glanced at the rear view mirror, then pushed the gas pedal closer to the floor.

  Christopher looked at the bag of guns and ammunition at his feet. He couldn’t believe they were headed back to Colorado. He had barely survived his last trip there – and it was with these same guys. The last time it was to confront Charles Morgan about the dead peasants file, this time it was to rescue Julia from him. His phone chirped and he sighed with relief seeing that Rachel and Stephen were safe at her mom’s. It chirped again and he grinned seeing that Rox was with them too.

  He glanced over at Dillon, thinking about what was in front of them. He knew how dangerous Matt Douglas was. Dillon was a strong man, but he knew Matt was the one person he feared. Dillon was showing great courage leaving his post and driving straight toward him. He was thankful for his friendship with Dillon. He wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for him. He glanced back at Travis. “Hey, you asleep?”

  “No.”

  Christopher wanted to give him something other than Julia’s kidnapping to think about for a few minutes. “Do you think Charles Morgan sent the Boyds to our church to knock me out of the pulpit?”

  “Yes, I do. Especially now. I think he’s trying to get all of us back for what we did to him.”

  “If that’s true, it’s amazing that he would do something like that.” He glanced back. “I mean, he would have had to move them here, tell them to go to our church, and look for ways to discredit me.”

  “I think he did though. He found them somewhere, and they agreed to do it.” He leaned forward. “They didn’t discredit you, by the way, they just found some ways to stir up controversy to split the church.” He paused. “No telling what Morgan paid them.”

  “Or else he just threatened them,” Dillon said, keeping his eye on the road.

  Travis’s phone rang. “This is Travis. Yes sir. Yes, thank you.” He ended the call. “That was the police officer. He said the FBI is on the case and has the video.”

  “Good deal,” Dillon said.

  Christopher rode in silence for a couple of miles. He could feel that he was losing his battle with sleep. More than an hour had past and he was normally sound asleep by this time.

  Dillon glanced at this cell phone a couple of times and broke the silence. “It looks like we should get there around noon tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take over driving after daylight if you want me to,” Christopher said. He folded his arms, leaned his head back on the headrest, and closed his eyes.

  “Okay, we’ll see,” Dillon said. A few minutes later, he turned onto I-70 and headed straight west.

  Sometime after daylight, Christopher woke up and rubbed his eyes. Dillon was concentrating on the road. It took Christopher a few minutes to get his bearings. He looked at his watch. Just after seven-thirty. He had been sleeping deeply, once he finally drifted off. Corn and wheat fields zipped by out his window in the morning sunlight.

  “Hey sleepy head,” Dillon said.

  “Mornin’” Christopher looked into the back seat and saw that Travis was lying down in the seat, still asleep. He glanced at Dillon. “So where are we?”

  “Almost to Colby, Kansas.”

  “Where is that?” He had been through there a couple of times, but couldn’t remember where it was.

  Dillon laughed. “Well, it’s about four hours east of Denver.” He drove for a few more minutes. “We should find a place to stop for breakfast and gas just up ahead.”

  “Good, I need a restroom break too.”

  Travis sat up in the back seat and stretched. “Where are we?”

  “Less than an hour from the Colorado line,” Dillon said, glancing at his phone. He exited the interstate and pulled into a restaurant parking lot.

  Christopher leaned on his elbow when they got to the table. He was still trying to get awake because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. He looked over at Dillon. “What’s our plan?”

  “When we get closer, I should be able to pick up Matt’s signature.” He sipped his coffee. “And that’s where we’ll go.”

  “Should we tell the FBI?” Travis said.

  “Yes, definitely,” Dillon said. “As soon as I see where they are, I’ll call them.” He looked over at Christopher. “Don’t you think?”

  Christopher thought for a moment. “Yeah, those guys are trained for stuff like this. They’ll keep her safe.” He paused. “I know it’s going to make Charles Morgan furious if the police are involved and this goes to the press, but we can’t help that.” He looked at Travis. “You agree?”

  Travis nodded, looking down at his plate.

  “Don’t you worry, Travis,” Dillon said. “We’ll get her back.”

  “I know. I’m just scared. I don’t know where she is or what she’s going through.”

  “That’s understandable,” Christopher said. “I just don’t think they’ll harm her. It’s not in Charles’ best interests to do so.”

  “I agree, Chris,” Dillon said. “They’re not going to hurt her, he’s just using her for leverage or something. We won’t know until we get there.” He threw his napkin on the table. “You guys ready to get moving?”

  Christopher got in behind the wheel. He would drive them the rest of the way and let Dillon sleep.

  “Pull into that pharmacy,” Dillon said about a mile down the road.

  “Sure.”

  Dillon disappeared into the store and returned with a plastic sack. He handed it to Christopher. “I need you to help me with this.”

  Christopher looked into the sack. There were some razor blades, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a large needle, a spool of thread, gauze, tweezers and several large bandages. He knew he didn’t like where this was going. “Is this for what I think it is?”

  Dillon took his shirt off and sat in the passenger seat with his back to Christopher. He began to remove the duct tape and foil that was draped over his shoulder and covering his microchip. “Get that thing out of there or they’ll run us down before we get anywhere close to Julia.”

  Christopher studied the scar on his back. It still had sutures from the implant. “So, cut the sutures first?”

  “Yes, with the razor blade.” He glanced back. “Put on some of that alcohol first. If the wound doesn’t open when you take the stitches out, you’ll have to cut into the skin above the little bump.”

  Christopher swabbed the area with the alcohol, then carefully cut the stitches. The wound had already healed over. “This is going to sting.” He took the razor blade and cut into the skin, just above the microchip. Blood began to ooze out and run down his back. Christopher looked over at Travis, who was
watching the procedure from the back seat. “Help me with this blood.”

  Travis grabbed several pieces of the gauze and wiped the blood from Dillon’s back.

  Christopher took the tweezers out of their wrapping and dug into the new wound for the microchip. He felt it clink, grabbed it, and pulled it out. “Got it.”

  Dillon held out his hand. “Let me have it.”

  “Now what?”

  “Get some more alcohol on there, then sew it back up.”

  Christopher looked over at Travis, who had lost most of the blood in his cheeks. “Travis, do you have any experience with anything like this?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Okay, it’s me then.” Christopher threaded a foot or so of the thread into the eye of the needle, then doubled it. He pulled Dillon’s skin up and ran the needle through the top of the skin, making sure he didn’t go deep into the flesh. Dillon winced but held his position. “You okay, buddy?” Christopher said.

  “Yeah, just do it.”

  Christopher ran it through a couple more times, then tied it off. He cut the extra thread with the razor blade, put some more alcohol on with the gauze, then put a bandage over the new wound. He leaned back. “Not too bad for my first time.”

  “Not too good either,” Dillon said, laughing.

  Christopher gestured toward the microchip in Dillon’s hand. “What are you going to do with it?”

  Dillon took some of the foil and wrapped several layers around the microchip. “This should keep it hidden for a while.” He put it in his pocket.

  Christopher put the car in drive, pulled out of the parking lot, then headed west.

  Dillon put his head back, then closed his eyes.

  “How’s your back feel?” Christopher said.

  “It’s okay. Thanks for doing that.”

  Christopher could see that Dillon was trying to shut down a while, so he kept the car quiet and didn’t speak to either man again for more than two hours. The signs on the freeway reminded him how close they were getting as he sped west. He wondered what they were headed toward. How would this play out? Could they really get Julia back? He hoped he was not driving all of them to their deaths. Charles Morgan might just be the most powerful man in the world. He was rich and famous and had all the power money could buy at his disposal. Christopher had seen him throw a man in a wheelchair over a balcony to his death.