Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three

by Troutman, Kimberly

  Roger liked the comparison of Fenley and friends to the snare drums. They had been steadily tapping along, marching their sickening melody onward with no intervention. Roger decided his plan needed to be subtle. He needed time to organize the rest of the orchestra, quietly introduce his players, and methodically twist the tune.

  Paul and John arrived outside Roger’s hotel room and heard the music coming from inside. John looked at Paul, “You hear what I hear?”

  “Yep, sounds like Roger’s got a plan.”

  Retired Senator Rolland Kenney tried again to reach Patterson by phone. No answer. Rolland had told him not to leave the country house. With the FBI and that crazy spook-type guy looking for him, you would think he would have listened. Ever since Bernard Jacobs confessed his true identity, William Patterson escaped pedophile and murderer, Rolland had been torn between feelings of pure admiration and fear. Patterson was famous. The ten million dollars Patterson had paid him had been confirmed by Rolland’s bank as received. All of this drama was actually very exciting. The other club members had to be kept in the dark about this though. Hell, one of them was a sitting judge.

  Rolland looked at his appointment calendar, then his watch. It was two-thirty now, and he had a three o’clock he needed to attend. If Patterson didn’t answer after that, he would just drive out to the country house. Rolland smiled. Their deliveries would start arriving Monday. He got goose bumps from his excitement. He turned to his computer and replayed the DVD of the Los Angeles Children’s Art Contest again. He wiggled in his chair and clapped his hands when his ‘winner’ appeared on the screen describing his art piece. Oh my, he was precious!

  SSA Simon Frost finished up at the crime scene at Mathew Core’s house. Special Agent Todd Nelson told Simon that he was with Core’s wife and kid at the FBI field office. Simon arrived and found Nelson in SSA Frank Mass’s office. Simon knocked on the open door and walked in. “Somebody want to bring me up to speed?”

  Nelson pushed his chair back, so Simon could take the other seat across from Mass’s desk. Nelson looked at Simon, “When I got to Jeremiah’s, they were putting Pablo in an ambulance. Thor was covered in blood. Pablo’s. Pablo took one in the shoulder. He’s in surgery now.” Simon’s eyebrows went up. Nelson continued, “Jeanne and Thor are at the hospital. We found three more dead guys at Jeremiah’s. We’re running IDs on them now. Roger told Thor they’re probably part of the Manio Cartel. They sent eight guys out to get Core’s wife and kid to use as insurance on that weapons deal. Roger said the sixty tons on shore was for Manio.”

  Simon whistled, “Well, if you’re going to piss somebody off, might as well start at the top. We killed all eight? That ought to make Manio happy. Shit. That is the largest cartel in the Americas.” Simon rested his left ankle on his right knee and leaned his chair back. “If Manio had eight guys to get Core’s family that fast, they have a heavy presence in New Orleans.”

  Mass looked at Simon, “They do. Look at a map. Whoever controls the ports of New Orleans owns the U.S. The numbers on last night are worse than we thought. My sources say last night we confiscated four times the amount of drugs than we thought came into this port in a year. Obviously a lot of crap’s flyin’ under the radar. I’m surprised the Zelez Cartel is trying to squeeze in. Everyone knows Manio runs New Orleans.”

  Mass leaned forward, “I’m worried. Roger wants Core’s wife and kid safe. They are resting in a small apartment here at the office under guard. I can kick in witness protection or handle this in house. What’s your gut?”

  Simon shook his head slowly, “This has to be Roger’s call. He’s getting information from last night’s communication sting that we don’t even know yet. All we know is the Manio Cartel want these two. That sure as hell isn’t good. Our most vulnerable window is right now, before we decide what to do.”

  Simon looked at Nelson, “Jeanne obviously killed five guys at Core’s house, you said three more were dead at Jeremiah’s, and she shot Devon yesterday. This chic needs some down time. Pablo is having surgery, so he’s out. Ray’s a geek and isn’t field trained. I think we have a manpower issue, especially if this office is the only thing keeping Lisa and Jamie safe from Manio.”

  Mass nodded his head, “I only have myself and two other field guys here. Phillips is worthless in the field. Local PD is calling us every hour for some kind of help. This martial law operation has had a few downsides to it. I suppose we could tap the National Guard.”

  Just then Mass’s phone rang. He listened for a while, said thanks, and hung up. He looked at Simon and said, “Can you believe a gang of punks tried to break into the secured naval yard and steal back some drugs? Streets are close to dry today, might make for some tense moments.”

  Simon stabbed a toothpick into the corner of his mouth, “Get some Guard here to secure the perimeter of this building. This is probably just the beginning. Desperate people do desperate things.”

  We were all still riding around town with the National Guard dudes. I kind of thought hangin’ out with the guys I would hear some good jokes or something. Nope. These guys were all business. I was actually happy when Ellen called and said to meet Betty in the park at Transition College. We haven’t seen Betty for a long time. She not only looked like Betty White, because heaven wanted us to feel comfortable, but she seemed to have her personality. Ellen had said this case of Roger’s was too fast paced for Betty. She preferred to stay on the education side of our training. The bad thing is, that probably means we are supposed to learn something new. I’m still on shaky ground from the last batch of classes. I got to the park and Linda, Mary and Teresa were already there.

  We heard a motor revving up behind us and saw Betty riding a pink motorcycle with a sidecar off to each side. Cool! She had on the cutest pink helmet and little pink leather jacket and boots. There was room for two of us in each sidecar and Betty waved us over, “Come on gals! Let’s take a spin to the zoo!”

  Alright! I bet we are being rewarded for a good job!

  Teresa yelled to be heard over the motor, “We thought we had to take another class!”

  Betty smiled, “You have to take three classes: one to turn into animals, one to implant memory gaps, and one to freeze mortals.”

  I looked at Mary, “Did she say we have to turn into animals to implant flaps to please mortals?” I was getting a very bizarre vision. Seemed kind of kinky for angels.

  Mary looked at me, “What is wrong with you?”

  I’m wondering why we would have to be animals to implant flaps. Couldn’t we just look like doctors? Monkeys could probably do it. They would look cute in the doctor outfits. I’m going to get a head start on this. Where would be the best places for flaps? Hmmmm.

  Betty stopped the motorcycle and closed her eyes. “How does Ellen do it?” Then she tilted her head, put on that big Betty White smile, and looked at me, “Watch my lips. You are going to learn how to turn into animals, implant memory GAPS, and FREEZE time around mortals.” Ohhhhh. Huh. I’m not sure that makes any more sense than my version.

  We arrived at the zoo and followed Betty into a large caged area. Linda smiled at me, “You crack me up.” Goody. Wait ‘til their hearing starts to go. Just then a large polar bear slowly sauntered out from a huge black hole in the hillside. EEE GADS!

  We all jumped behind Betty and the polar bear said, “I’ll take it from here.”

  Betty turned and smiled at us, “Have fun gals. When your instructors say you’re done, go find Ellen.” Betty patted my shoulder, “You’ll do just fine dear.” And she was gone.

  Thor and Jeanne arrived at the hospital and were ushered into a small, dark, surgical waiting room. They were the only people in the room. The blinds were closed on all but one of the glass windows facing the busy hallway. The nurse told them Pablo’s surgery would probably take an hour or so. Thor took a seat at one end of a small couch, and Jeanne sat at the other.

  Jeanne closed her eyes and raised her chin to rest the back of her head against the
wall. “It’s true what they say about twins, you know. I can tell Pablo is going under.” She rolled her head in his direction and barely opened her eyes, “Thank you for letting me be here.” Thor nodded. Jeanne kept looking at him. There was something about him, she sensed his raw strength, and a hungry soul. “I hope I’m not out of line, I just….it’s almost spooky. I feel like I’ve known you forever. Sometimes, it seems like I know what you’re thinking.”

  Thor’s mind screamed, Damn, I hope not! He heard himself say, “Yeah. Whatever. You’re just tired.” He walked outside of the room and came back with a pillow. He held it out to her. “Here, close your eyes for a few.”

  Jeanne looked around the room and asked, “Can I use your lap?” Thor sat back down, his mind screaming, Holy Crap! Jeanne looked at his blood soaked pants. She saw they were dry and placed the pillow on his lap. She closed her eyes and was breathing deep in minutes. Thor knew she was exhausted, so was he. He tried to rest his arm along the top of the narrow couch, but it wasn’t comfortable. He let his arm rest along her side, put his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He fought the temptation to watch her sleep. It felt like electrical currents were charging through his body. He was in trouble. Damn, deep trouble. He knew it the first moment he saw her.

  Paul glanced over at John as he knocked on Roger’s hotel room door. “Did you come up with any grand plan?” John shook his head.

  Roger opened the door to let them both in and smiled. “Thanks for giving me a few.” He walked over to the small table now pulled into the center of the room and gestured for the others to join him. John Barry stood by the window, and Paul sat with Roger at the table. Roger had his papers from the Director neatly stacked. He looked at them both. “Where are we?”

  John looked very serious as he turned from the window, “I need to tell you both about a case OSI and CIA have been working on that might end up part of all of this.” John waved his copies of the transcripts in the air. “Some of these phone conversations seem to tie in.”

  Roger leaned back in his chair and started clicking his pen, “Okay, John.”

  John shook his head slightly. “About five years ago Tourey and I were part of a black op to expose a global computer terrorism plot. The masterminds of this plan represent oil and diamonds in London, money in the U.S. and Caymans, and manpower and guns in Yemen. The CIA used the first letter of each: London, U.S., Cayman and Yemen to nickname this group LUCY. I would say LUCY is one of the most serious threats the United States faces. LUCY has the will and assets to get what they want, and the ability to implement their plans.”

  “The goal of LUCY is to use their codes to infiltrate critical computer systems. The utility grids and security programs of every developed country in the world are at risk. LUCY’s goal is to be in a position to threaten those triggers. What LUCY wants is for all monetary agencies to ignore the movement of their money.”

  Roger said, “So the deal is, you leave our money alone, and we leave your utility grids and security systems alone.”

  John answered, “Precisely. There is a difference between staying ahead of the law, buying off the law, and owning the law. It costs LUCY trillions of dollars to work through shell corporations, shell banks, and ghost entities. Our entire legitimate banking system is involved and, to no small degree corrupted. We slap sanctions on them, fine them, they fire a few people and start again. We don’t stop them, but we are very annoying ticks in their fur. We are everywhere since the Vienna and Palermo Conventions.”

  This was sounding familiar to Roger. “I’ve heard of LUCY through agency briefs, but I thought the CIA spooks had this under control.” Roger leafed through the papers the Director had given them from the communication sting. “We have Thomas Fenley calling Manio, and then Manio calling someone in London. That person then called someone in Yemen.” Roger focused on John, “This does sound like your LUCY.” John nodded. Roger continued, “Makes me wonder what Jason Sims was trying to do in the CIA super-frame if LUCY is ultimately a cyber-terrorism threat.”

  John answered, “I just spent thirty minutes on the phone with my Director on that very topic. We were able to stop them in London five years ago largely through information obtained by one of our outside contractors.”

  Paul asked, “Core?”

  “Yes. People way above me know the details. We released our first solid evidence in February 2004. The U.S. –Canada Power System Outage Task Force released their final report on the US eastern blackout. It had been scrubbed, but it did mention, on purpose, the identity of a software bug known as a race condition. This bug existed in General Electric Energy’s Unix-based XA/21 energy management system. Once triggered, the bug allowed an entire chain of events by not activating the alarm system for the event. Few people connected the dots that after the grid came back up, over a hundred oil drilling permits were issued that had been tabled. We wanted LUCY to know that we knew what they had done. That’s why that line was left in the report. Even though we publically blame the Russians and Chinese for most cyber threats, LUCY is all about oil.”

  “That access ‘hole’ in the software program Ray discovered is now being called the rabbit hole. For the first time, ever, we have direct evidence of who is pulling the strings, and more importantly, how. That is really why we were able to get this ‘sting’ of yours classified a martial law operation. Frankly, the United States is the only hope left for stopping this.”

  Roger asked, “Then what do we have here with Core? Is he a good guy, rogue, what?”

  John answered, “I honestly don’t know. Decorated marine, one of our best. His connection to Jason Sims is certainly suspect, and he obviously takes jobs from Fenley and Thornton. He also seems to be of the mindset that he is above the law. I suspect by now he is a little of everything.”

  John started pacing, “One of the names Ellen told me not to trust is the CIA’s task force leader on the LUCY project. This task force is supposed to protect us from LUCY. They got to him. He’s a mole.”

  Paul leaned his chair back and caught himself from tipping at the last minute. “Whoa! How did you explain knowing that and the rabbit hole?”

  John smiled at Roger, “I reported this was discovered by the FBI. I think your Director came up with a cover story. This is really tricky working with information from Ellen that we can’t prove. We can only strongly suggest our suspicion about the task force leader, and hope the bureaucracy paranoids take over. The rest of the task force are all good people. Believe me, they are all over this. Ray’s rabbit hole is the break they needed.” John sat back on the couch, “For right now I think we can concentrate on our more local issues and leave LUCY to the big boys. It does help knowing these agendas though.”

  Roger leaned forward in his chair. “John, are you going to be tied up in this LUCY deal or are you available for this local stuff?”

  John shrugged, “For now, I think I can help you with the local stuff. Fair warning, OSI expects these cases to collide.”

  Roger loosened his tie and walked toward the window to look out at the street traffic. “Okay. Let’s move on. Manio needs his guns to ward off competing cartels like Friday’s buyer Zelez, right?” John nodded. “What if we offer Manio something better than the guns? Some kind of evidence that our focus is to destroy the entire Zelez Cartel? Wouldn’t he play along to see if it works? It would certainly make his life easier to eliminate the competition. It might buy us some time to form a real plan.”

  “It might also cause Fenley to call off the hit on you and Paul if he thinks you are actually helping him.”

  Roger started clicking his pen. “The Manio and Zelez Cartels are the big worry right now. I can only think of one way to get our information to both Manio and Zelez.”

  John and Paul answered in unison, “Core.”

  Roger looked at John, “I’ll have my Director convince Thornton we are hell bent on taking down the entire Zelez Cartel. I’ll promise specifics later. If we are right about these transcripts,
we have stumbled into a LUCY operation. I see a huge opportunity. LUCY’s goals are the accumulation of money from illegal activities, and having a ‘safe haven’ from law enforcement. If we create a safe haven, would they use it?”

  John and Paul looked at each other. John asked, “How are you going to do that convincingly? That’s been tried a dozen times and they always sniff out a sting.”

  Roger smiled, “They didn’t have martial law rules to play by. We can pick our players. No leaks. I want Thornton to think I have botched a couple of things. Big things, like the French Quarter Bank accounts. I need to think this out more. If it works, LUCY will just hand over their precious money. Thornton and Fenley need to keep feeling superior and in control. This might buy us a little time.”

  Roger’s thoughts jumped back to Patterson and the sicko club. “John, can you check with Tourey, see if anything has happened on the Patterson front, and let me know?”

  John nodded, “Tourey isn’t thrilled I volunteered him to the FBI, but if anybody can connect the dots, it’s him. I don’t know how long we can keep him on the Patterson case though. He has a history fighting LUCY, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the CIA doesn’t pull him back in the case, too.”

  Paul stood and stretched his back, “Normally we would need a couple of months to sort through all of this. I’d be happy with three days.”