by Thomas Shaw
Juan seemed a little displaced as he said, “Boys, I’ll see you in the morning as well. We’re going to need all the rest we can get if we’re going to beat this guy tomorrow.” He gave Donny a friendly slap on the back. With their boss out of the picture, the other guys jumped at the opportunity to catch up on a little nightlife activity. Within minutes everyone had gone their separate ways.
Donny ended up back in his room waiting for instructions from SAM. He opened the package on the end of his bed and put on the pajamas that were an exact copy of the ones Juan wore and laid down on the bed for a power nap.
Quantico, Virginia…
“Where did SAM come up with that GPS disk that Juanita is going to stick on her husband’s back?” one of the technicians asked as they sat there monitoring their screens.
“That’s got to be an area 51 product. I’ve never heard of any GPS that small not even in Popular Science. I asked SAM about it and all she would say is that it gets its current from the electrical energy created by the human body,” replied another technician.
It was about 12:30 am Eastern standard time when the screen monitoring the GPS devise began showing activity. It came on then went off, came on, then off. After what must have been four or five false starts the data began to flow in a steady stream. The transfer was complete. From the data being displayed on the monitor it was clear that the Castaic’s were still having sex and apparently changing positions every few minutes. After several minutes of what seemed like random motion on the monitor the date stabilized. The accuracy of this GPS device was in millimeters. After a few minutes of no movement there was a sudden shift in his body position of about 20 inches straight up. He must have gone from a prone to an upright position. Now the motion was going everywhere; up, down, left, right, back to up, down. He must have moved out of the bed and was standing on the floor. With all this up and down motion he may be putting on his pajamas.
SAM was analyzing the movements and would try to make a much more accurate assessment of what he was doing. The monitor showed a 3-dimensional floor plan of the Castaic mansion. A blinking red light showed the exact placement of the GPS disk that was attached to Juan’s back. The blinking light moved out of the bedroom, down the hall and down one flight of stairs which led to the main floor. The light stopped in front of the library door. This door was always locked so he must have taken keys with him from the bedroom. He was now inside the library and moving quickly towards the center of the room. The blinking light became stationary in the center of the room for a full minute, then there was some slight movement as the blinking light moved toward the door, out the door, down the hall, up the stairs and back to the his bedroom.
SAM waited several minutes until the movements of the GPS indicated that Juan was asleep.
It was almost 10:30 pm in Mexico City when SAM sent a signal to wake up Donny. The critical part of the mission was at hand. Donny was instructed to put on special house shoes that were more like cross trainers. He opened his travel case and again removed a special 4 x 4 inch box from a secret compartment that even the baggage scanner had failed to see.
Donny moved out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs on the other side of the house then made his way to the library, keeping his head down when he approached a camera. In less than a minute he was standing in front of the library door. He opened the box he was carrying and removed a key, inserting it in the lock. It didn’t fit. He tried another key; this one slipped into the key slot. He removed a small mallet from the box and tapped the head of the key three times, wiggled it back and forth a couple of times and the door opened. He moved inside, quickly closing the door behind him. Donny removed a small LED thumb light from the box then set the box on the floor. SAM was giving him instructions that matched the same movements made by Juan only minutes earlier.
One of the technicians commented. “What was that all about? Did you see how he put some special key in the lock, tapped it a couple of times and the door opened. Is that another area-51 product?” The other technician started laughing.
“What’s so funny about that?” The first technician said. “I was talking to SAM about those keys the other day and asked where she found them. She said she found them on eBay.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Donny pressed the button on his thumb light and it showed that he was standing about a foot and a half in front of the bust of El Paco, according to the placard, a famous mafia figure from the 1940’s. SAM was telling Donny that she thought the stolen hard drives were in or under the statue.
The statue was made of bronze and would be impossible to pick up. SAM also explained that there was virtually no movement while Juan was standing there.
Donny tried pushing on its nose and eyes; he pulled on its ears. No secret switches here. Donny did notice something unusual about the bust. The ears were like Alfred E. Newman, they stuck out more than usual. Donny took hold of the ears and tried moving the face to the right… nothing. He then tried moving the face to the left… there was a slight movement. When he added more pressure the head and neck began to pivot on the shoulders, exposing a hole where the neck used to be. He reached inside and felt a canvas bag that held what appeared to be two metallic objects.
That was enough for SAM. She instructed Donny to leave the mansion immediately as he may have triggered a silent alarm. Donny moved quickly back to the door, opened it and made his way to the front door and was out on the street in a matter of moments.
The night security guard had seen Juan go to the library, twice, but this time he simply walked out the front door. This was not normal; he must be “sleep” walking. He got up from his desk and walked down two flights of stairs and out the front door. He looked left and right but saw no one, so he yelled “Mr. Castaic, are you alright?” There was no answer so he yelled again. No answer again. He returned to the house to tell Mrs. Castaic to seek further instructions.
Donny had just turned on the first street he had come to when he heard someone yell for Mr. Castaic. The pajamas had worked; the security guard thought he was Juan.
Donny broke into a run as SAM guided him through the streets to the dumpster that held the backpack with other clothing he would need to continue his escape. It only took about five minutes to get to this dumpster but Donny could already hear the sirens. As per instructions, Donny found the dumpster, lifted the lid and saw the backpack lying on a mound of garbage. He quickly pulled out the clothes recommended by SAM. In less than a minute he looked like another America tourist. He tossed the pajamas in the dumpster and pulled a beard trimmer out of the backpack. The electric trimmer quickly removed everything but a half an inch of hair from his head. He pitched the trimmer in the trash.
SAM was now directing Donny to the car that was waiting for him only two blocks away. As Donny turned the final corner he saw the car waiting for him directly under a street light. They had picked a well-lit area to reduce the chance of someone stealing it. There was only one problem. Two police officers were standing under the street light smoking cigarettes. When they heard the sirens they were immediately on their radios getting instructions from their superiors. They held their positions but became more vigilant, obviously looking for someone as they scanned up and down the street.
More sirens joined the night and the sounds were getting closer. SAM instructed Donny to return to the dumpster where he was to replace the backpack. At the last moment SAM instructed Donny to remove a small bottle of Tequila from the backpack before he closed the lit. He was instructed to sit down about 20 yards from the dumpster and pour the Tequila on his shirt and pants. Donny could hear footsteps and voices yelling in Spanish as he leaned against the brick wall.
There was a slight tingle in his neck as he closed his eyes.
The next thoughts Jim Peterson had were of total terror as the Mexican Police jerked him to his feet. Everyone seemed to be screaming at him in Spanish and he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. One Police Officer had h
is nightstick across his neck and choking him to the point of passing out. Just then another officer stepped up and took control of the situation. It was clear he out ranked the other officers and more importantly could speak English.
“What’s your name?” the officer was saying when the ringing in his ears had stopped.
“My name is Jim Peterson,” choking out the words.
“What are you doing in Mexico City?” the officer inquired.
“Mexico City?” Jim said, totally confused.
It was at that moment that he caught a whiff of Tequila and started putting together the frightening scenario that he had another blackout. “I don’t know how I got to Mexico City,” he said, with tears flowing down his cheeks. “I must have blacked out when I drank some Tequila. I think I must be allergic to alcohol.”
“I’m taking you to the station. I want to see if we can get someone to come in and ID you,” the officer said, jerking Jim’s arm with unnecessary force.
“Please God, I hope someone can identify me and tell me how I got here,” Jim said, under his breath.
It was a short ride; the precinct station was only a few blocks from the dumpster’s location.
Minutes earlier…
The security guard had knocked on the bedroom door expecting to see Mrs. Castaic but to his great surprise Juan had opened the door.
“What is it, Manuel?” Juan said, sensing something was wrong.
“I just saw you walk out the door,” Manuel stammered.
“What are you talking about?” Juan pressed.
“I saw you go to the Library, then back to your room. Then I saw you go to the Library again but this time you went out the front door and I …”
Juan cut him off. “You saw me go to the Library a second time tonight?”
“Yes sir, but the second time you went right out the front door. I tried to catch you, but you were gone. But now you’re here,” Manuel said, totally confused.
“Go check the American’s room immediately and report back to me,” Juan said, turning back into his bedroom to change clothes. Juan was just walking out of his bedroom when the security guard came running up.
“He’s gone. His room is empty but all his clothes are there,” Manuel said, catching his breath.
“Let’s go to the Library,” Juan said, holding up his only key. When they got to the Library they found that the door was open. Juan’s heart sank and rage took over.
“Call the police immediately and tell them we are looking for an American in his early 30’s. He goes by the name Donny Briscoe.”
Juan was just about out the door when his cell phone rang.
“This is Juan,” he snapped into the phone.
“This is Major General Horton Thomas. Is this Juan Castaic?” the General said in his military manner.
“Yes, this is Juan what do you want?” Juan said, showing no respect.
“We just received a call telling us the hard drives are missing. You know the ones you insisted on holding for security reasons,” the General said in a condescending tone.
“Who called you?” Juan asked stunned.
“It doesn’t matter at this point. The President wants to see you immediately,” he said more assertively.
“Tell the President I’m a little busy at the moment, I’ll call him in the morning with a full report,” Juan said, with as much bluster as he could gather.
“This isn’t a matter for discussion. I’m sending my adjutant to pick you up as we speak. If you refuse this order you will be hunted down as a traitor of Mexico,” he slammed the phone down.
“Manuel, get down to the police precinct. You can identify the American; you’ve had dinner with him twice. I have some matters I need to tend to. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can,” were Juan’s last words to Manuel as he was escorted out the front door.
Manuel pulled up to the police station just in time to see four officers and what looked like an American tourist being hustled into the building. He parked his car and hurried into the building behind them.
“I’m Manuel, the security guard for the Castaic family. I may be able to identify your prisoner,” Manuel explained to the night clerk. The four officers were still firing questions at Jim Peterson as Manuel walked back to the holding cell.
“Can you ID this guy?” the senior officer asked impatiently.
“If it’s who I think it is, I should be able to,” he said, moving closer to the cell door. “Stand up,” the officer said in English, “there’s someone here to ID you.”
“Thank God,” Jim said, standing up so he could see the person better. “Do you recognize me or know how I got here?” Jim said, in an honest plea.
Manuel looked at the man in the cell for several long moments. “Well is this the guy or not?” demanded the officer. “He doesn’t look at all like the person I know,” Manuel finally stated.
“He must still be out there. Bring in every American male around 30 years old, and do it now,” barked the senior officer.
There was a shuffle of feet and everyone was gone except the night clerk and Manuel.
At that moment Juniata’s cell phone rang beside her bed.
“Hello,” she said, in a sleepy voice.
“The swallows have returned to Capistrano,” the voice said.
There was silence.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Go to your local police precinct and demand the release of the prisoner who has been falsely accused,” the voice said.
There was silence…
“Do you understand?”
“Yes”
Juanita turned on the table lamp, quickly dressed and called for a car. When she arrived at the police station she was met by Manuel and the night clerk.
“What are you doing here, Mrs. Castaic?” Manuel asked, in total surprise.
“I want to see the person they have put in jail,” she said, in a matter of fact tone.
“I don’t think it’s anyone we know,” Manuel said.
They walked back to the holding cell and asked the person incarcerated to stand up so they could get a better look at him. Jim Peterson stood up with the same expectations he had hoped for earlier.
“That’s not our house guest,” Juanita said, in her matter of fact tone. “You must release him immediately.”
“That’s impossible,” the night clerk said with nervous authority.
“Wait for me in the car,” she instructed Manuel.
As Manuel walked out of the building, SAM sent the signal activating Code-5, switching Jim Peterson back to the mission at hand.
“I demand you release this person at once,” Juanita said, with authority as she walked back to the cell. “You can’t be back here. It will cost me my job,” the night clerk pleaded, rushing past her to block her from going any further. With his back to the cell door he pleaded for her to stop immediately.
In the flash of an eye, Donny’s arm shot out and hooked around the clerk’s neck and pulled him back against the bars. With his free hand he patted the officer down until he found the keys to the cell door.
Juanita looked on with little concern.
With his breathing capacity cut off the night clerk soon passed out.
Donny opened the cell door and instructed Juanita to return to her home and go back to sleep. She immediately turned and walked out the door to her waiting car.
Donny waited a full two minutes before he walked out the same door and disappeared down the street. Five minutes later Donny was back at the dumpster changing into another style of clothes. This time he was dressing full stealth. Black pants, black shoes and gloves, black long-sleeved turtleneck sweater with a black knit stocking cap. He even used blackout paint on his face. With the hard drives securely stored in the bottom of his backpack, Donny headed out looking for a new ride. After checking out several cars he couldn’t find one that was unlocked. The sirens were still blaring down every street forcing Do
nny to jump back into the shadows several times. He had to do something and that something had to be soon.
As Donny hid in the shadows he looked up and down the street for anything to get him out of the city. His eyes suddenly stopped at a small space between two cars. What was this; he could barely make it out in the dark. It looked like the back wheel of a motorcycle. With great caution he worked his way through the shadows until he was even with the motorcycle. Don was trying to whisper the description of the Motorcycle to SAM to see if they could figure out what kind of bike it was. When SAM suddenly said, “Can you see the license plate?”
Don quickly repeated the license plate number, “Moto 3315 Colima”.
SAM responded immediately, “This is a 1959 BSA Thunderbolt twin cylinder motorcycle”.
20
Donny waited for the sirens to fade, then moved quickly between the two cars and mounted the motorcycle. SAM was rapidly explaining how to hot-wire this particular model. With his thumb-sized light emitting diode, Donny was able to find the group of wires leading from under the headlight down the frame toward the engine. As instructed, he was looking for the yellow, blue and black wires. Donny quickly found the wires and pulled them away from the rest of the bundle. Donny was lying flat on the gas tank while he worked with the wires. He looked left and right to see if any headlights or any other type of motion could be observed before he straightened up, quickly swinging the backpack around opening a side pocket and removing the Leatherman all-purpose tool. Again lying flat on the tank Donny quickly stripped off about one inch of insulation from the heavy gauge wires & twisted all three together.