Blood Line: 1

by John J. Davis

“Tell your dad what you told me before we ate breakfast,” Valerie said to Leecy.

  “The guy that pulled me from my room called me by my name. He knew who I was and where to find me,” she said, and then, “The FBI is wrong.”

  Valerie and I looked at each other and with a glance between us, decided to keep that information to ourselves.

  Leecy continued. “I didn’t say anything to Agent Porter because those other two guys, the ones with the same last name, made me uncomfortable. The one across from me kept checking me out as he pretended to read. What a weirdo! No, I think we need to find out what’s going on, but first you two need to spill on the secrets because Dad, ‘classified till 2035’ isn’t getting it done. And the rumors aren’t rumors, are they?And as far as I’m concerned, Mom, Agent Porter is right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Even a genius like you doesn’t learn to shoot like you can shoot from her dad. So spill it. How did you learn to shoot like that?”

  Valerie laughed and then continued in the whispered tone we’d been using as I walked toward the door. “Not here and not now, but I promise to tell you everything.” She pushed Leecy toward the door. “We need to get out of here and go see your grandmother. The phone in my pocket hasn’t stopped vibrating. I bet she’s called twenty times.”

  “Okay, but I’m holding you to that. And Dad, you have some explaining to do. Don’t think I will forget; you know I remember everything.”

  The three of us left the meeting room and were passing the bathroom door when Leecy informed us, “I need to make a pit stop.”

  “All right,” I said, “I’ll wait for you by the front doors.”

  “Look, guys, I’m going to call my mom and let her know we’re on the way. I’ll be outside,” Valerie said as she walked toward the front door, and Leecy entered the unisex bathroom.

  “Okay, meet you in a bit,” I said to both of them.

  I walked slowly to the front of the police station and sat on a bench against the wall opposite Officer Johnson at the dispatcher’s desk. Suddenly, Chief Rawling’s office door opened and out came the Chief, slamming the door behind him. I watched as he waddled up to the dispatcher’s desk and spoke to Officer Johnson. Without a word to me at all, the Chief walked out the front door. Officer Johnson shrugged his shoulders at me and said in a whisper, the way southerners speak about things that are none of their business, “The FBI guy wanted to use the phone and file his report before returning to Atlanta, and asked the Chief to give them some privacy.” He spoke with his hands as much as his mouth. “The Chief didn’t like that, and suggested the FBI use the desk in our little bull pen here.” He gestured wildly to the desk behind him. “But that didn’t go over too well, so the Chief had to skedaddle. Looks like it made him pretty upset,” he concluded.

  “Oh, I see,” I said, and nodded my head to signify I would keep our secret.

  Officer Henry Johnson was the only other police officer I knew anything about besides Lester, and the only reason was because his hiring had been somewhat of a controversy in our little town. Officer Johnson was openly gay, and when the Chief hired him as the day shift dispatcher two years ago, there had been a bit of an uproar from some of Park City’s citizenry.

  The public debate and resulting national media attention was why the Chief hung on to his position for a few more years. It had been reported that the Chief had delayed his retirement to ensure that Officer Johnson got a fair chance to perform the duties of the job and not be dismissed by some new Chief that might have taken over at the time. The hiring had been a bold move, but some said it was a calculated strategy that garnered the Chief much respect and admiration. Park City’s town council saw the bright side of all the attention. They thought the national exposure might lead to a financial windfall for the town by way of increased tourism, but that wasn’t realized. No, the only two things realized were Officer Johnson was a fine police officer, and the town council named Lester the Chief of Police in waiting.

  The Chief’s office door opened again, and I watched the three-member FBI team emerge from its confines. The Smith boys led the way, followed at a distance by Agent Porter. The two Smiths passed me without a word or a glance. I watched them through the glass doors of the police station as the one named Travis climbed behind the wheel of the Suburban, and the one named Briggs took the seat directly behind him. I heard Agent Porter ease up next to me and turned my attention to him as he asked, “Were you waiting for me for some reason?”

  I stood, and as I was about to answer him, the bathroom door opened, causing all three of us – me, Agent Porter and Officer Johnson – to look in the direction of the sound, only to see Leecy emerging from the bathroom. I noticed she was as pale as a ghost again. She looked like she had looked earlier this morning after the home invasion.

  “No, I was waiting for Leecy.”

  He turned and exited the police station immediately. Leecy all but ran to meet me.

  “We need to get out of here right now.”

  She was calm and steady, like her mother had been earlier this morning.

  “Okay, let’s go. What’s wrong?”

  I turned toward the front door of the police station with one arm wrapped around the shoulders of my daughter in time to see the big black SUV drive away.

  I wished Officer Johnson a pleasant day, and I pushed open the glass door, hearing him say, “You, too, Grangers.”

  Leecy pulled away from me as soon as we were out of the station and raced toward the Jeep. She was already in the backseat before I even opened the door to the driver’s side. Valerie was seated in the car, but I hadn’t noticed her there because of the tinted windows.

  “Agent Porter sure seemed upset,” she said. “I could hear him speaking into his cell phone that he had big problems. I wonder what that’s about. Anyway, we need to go to my mom’s.”

  Val buckled her seat belt with a smile on her face that quickly faded as she turned to look at Leecy. “What’s wrong? You’re as white as sheet. Are you okay?”

  I was putting the Jeep in reverse and looked in the rearview mirror to see the still ashen face of my daughter as she answered Valerie’s question.

  “No, I’m not okay.”

  I slowed down but then Leecy said, “No, Dad, go. Let’s get out of here. You aren’t going to believe what I heard.”

  I reversed the Jeep out of the parking space and turned left onto First Street. I was driving north out of downtown toward my in-laws’ house, just a few blocks away from our house. Valerie unbuckled her seat belt and climbed between the front seats to sit next to Leecy.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was in the bathroom washing my hands when I heard a man’s voice. I know eavesdropping isn’t polite, but I couldn’t help but hear everything being said through the walls. It was Agent Porter’s voice. He was telling someone to leave the office or he would have one of his men throw him out. Then I heard a door open and slam closed.”

  “That’s when they kicked Chief Rawlings out of his office,” I said. “Keep going.”

  “I heard Porter having a one-way conversation; must have been on the phone. He said, ‘Yeah, I’m in Park City looking into the situation. It’s all under control.’ And then another pause before he said, ‘Yeah, well, where did you find those two idiots?’. Then the pause was really long before he spoke again. And he said, ‘We need the girl to make this work. There’s definitely something to the father and possibly the mother. You say you didn’t find anything on her, right?’ There was another long pause, and then I heard Porter say, ‘Well I guess that makes sense, but see if there’s more you can dig up on Ron. I’ll be in touch. I’m going to see what I can find out on my own. Nothing happens till Sunday afternoon, anyway. The beauty of that is they don’t even know about the DOD decision yet.’ There was another long pause,” Leecy said, “and then Agent Porter said bye.”

  As Leecy finished telling us what
she overheard, I realized I was speeding, but I didn’t slow down. I sped up, because I saw the black SUV in my rearview mirror. It was about half a mile back. We were being followed; I had no doubt.

  “Valerie,” I said, “we’ll have to stop by your mother’s house later. I want to grab a few things from our house first, okay?”

  Valerie’s eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. “I agree. Home first, and then we get out of town for a few days. I’ll deal with my mother later. Pass me your phones.”

  I handed her my iPhone and as she took it from me, Leecy very matter of factly said, “We’re being followed,” and handed Val her iPhone.

  “I’m taking no chances with these phones,” Val said, and turned them off before she rolled down the windows and threw them out of the car. “I don’t want to give the guys behind us, or anyone else, a chance to track our location.”

  “Wait! Don’t throw it away; my life’s on that phone!” Leecy said.

  “I know and I’m sorry, but the phones are just too tempting to keep around. They have to go.”

  I turned left off what had now become State Highway 64 and drove west on a dirt track about a hundred yards, where I turned right onto the power company’s surveyor road. I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror. I thought they might have seen me make the first left turn, but there was no way they saw the second turn I’d made. I knew the surveyor road ran along the back edge of our property and would take us home and keep us off the main roads. There was a chance the guys following us might locate the road, so I sped up. We were in a race for our home. If Porter and his guys arrived before we did, they’d think they had a tactical advantage, and Porter would likely leave one of the Smiths behind to watch the place in case we returned. That Smith would have to be dealt with.

  I needed to get the Go bags we kept packed and ready for a situation just like this, and nothing was going to stop me.

  Chapter 3

  We’d been awake since 4:00 a.m. It was now after 12:00 p.m., and I didn’t see an opportunity for rest in our near future. The road we were driving on narrowed to little more than a trail. Large oak trees lined either side of the Jeep. The trees were so close I could smell the sap, and I was forced to slow down.

  “We aren’t going to get to the house before Porter and his guys,” I said, as the Jeep lumbered through the water-filled ruts and holes in the trail.

  “So…?” Leecy said. She started to say something else but stopped herself. She realized there was more to what I was saying and asked, “Why does that matter?”

  I concentrated on the bumpy driving, and Val answered Leecy’s question.

  “It matters, because Porter will likely leave a man to watch the house. There are things we need from the house, and if there’s an obstacle between us and those things we need…” She was interrupted by Leecy.

  “Just stop with the ridiculous double talk and speak to me in a way that not only explains the situation but respects the fact that I’m part of what is happening here, okay?”

  “She’s right, Val. No more secrets,” I said.

  “Fine, you’re right. You’re both right, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to…” Her voice trailed off before she continued, “The truth is, your father isn’t the only spy in the family. I was once a member of the Israeli group called the Mossad. I haven’t been actively involved since before you were born, but there was a period of time where I was very active. I wasn’t only a spy; I was more than that. I was an assassin. That’s why I can shoot so well. There’s more I need to tell you, but now is not the time because,” she paused and pointed out the window over Leecy’s shoulder as the Jeep slowed, “we’re here. We’re home.”

  I brought the Jeep to a full stop and killed the engine. I was parked at the edge of our two acre lot behind the wall of twenty-five foot tall evergreen trees that rimmed our property. Our breathing was the only sound inside the Jeep.

  Leecy turned away from her mother to look in the direction Valerie was pointing and said, “Okay, so my parents are ex spies. I can get behind that. Mom was an assassin, and Dad used to kill targets for the CIA with a knife and a tomahawk. Okay, so that’s my parents. What happens now? Be direct. I can handle it.”

  Val and I shared a glance and a shrug of the shoulders with each other through the rearview mirror before I unbuckled my seat belt. “We sit a few minutes and watch for signs of Porter and his two Smith boys. I want to know if they’re here before we go get the stuff we need.”

  “What stuff?” Leecy asked.

  “Weapons: guns, knives, telescoping metal batons. Three Go bags,” I explained.

  “Part of being a spy is being ready to move at a moment’s notice. Go bags are essential to making that happen. Each bag is always packed and ready. Each one of the three bags contains false papers. Driver’s licenses and passports for each of us, $25,000 cash divided into dollars, Euros, and Pounds, EuroRail passes, Metro cards for the NYC subway, and oyster cards for London’s Tube system, because we have a safe house in New York and London we can access. There’s a small amount of hair dye to effect a basic disguise, a change of clothes and a small amount of food. We can go anywhere at a moment’s notice.”

  “Really? I’ve never seen that stuff. Where is it?”

  Valerie answered this time. “The weapons and Go bags are inside the safe in the closet of the spare room. We’ve had a plan in place since you were born in case we ever needed to leave in a hurry. We kept the false papers and clothing updated and current as we aged. The food was thrown out and replaced as it expired, but the food’s just a few energy bars for emergency rations.”

  “Okay,” Leecy said. “What signs are we looking for?”

  “Do you see anyone?” Val asked.

  “No, I don’t see anyone,” Leecy said without looking away from the house.

  “Next thing we look for is something out of place, but that takes some skill because you first have to remember how everything looked before you left the house to notice if something’s been disturbed,” I said.

  I was turning in my seat so I could see Valerie and Leecy without having to use the rearview mirror when Leecy spoke.

  “Do you mean something like a shutter out of place?”

  I bent lower in my seat for a better view of the back of our house and found a perfect spot between two thin branches of the evergreen tree we were parked behind. I could see that the plantation shutter in one of the kitchen windows was flat and not angled like the others.

  “Yes, exactly like that,” I said. “Good catch.”

  “So, there’s someone in our house?” Leecy asked.

  “I think it’s safe to say there’s someone in our house,” Valerie confirmed.

  “Okay, well show me some of that super spy stuff. Let’s see the rumors in action, like the old man goes and gets the bags and weapons without whoever’s in there even knowing.”

  I looked at Valerie and laughed. “Okay, keep your eyes on the kitchen window. When you see my signal, drive the Jeep between the trees. Get it as close to the kitchen door as you can and help me load the stuff we need.”

  With that said, I opened and closed the door to the Jeep very softly, and began running along the line of evergreen trees. I ran the width of the property. Our lot is about two hundred feet wide. I jogged almost the entire distance before turning into the trees. I was now sprinting through the branches and across the grass to the rear of our detached garage. I ran on a line that kept the garage between the house and myself to avoid being seen by whoever was inside the house. I reached the rear of our detached garage and made my way around the right side. The front right corner of the garage gave me cover from the view of our kitchen windows and provided me with a clear line of sight down our driveway. No black SUV; good.

  I watched the back of the house for any indication of where the man waiting inside might be hiding. Trusting my instincts, I bolted from my position and ran for the kitchen door. I was going for a shock and awe
approach. My plan was to explode into the house with a straightforward brute force attack. Catching the man waiting for us off guard, I could gain the upper hand in the ensuing hand-to-hand combat. But I would have to disarm him first.

  I turned the doorknob to the kitchen door with my left hand as I hit the door with my left shoulder, slamming it open. I ran into the kitchen and Agent Briggs Smith. He was walking up the stairs from the sunken den, talking on his cell phone when I exploded into the room.

  I heard him say, “They’re here,” before he dropped his phone and ran toward me, drawing his weapon.

  We collided in the space between our kitchen table and center kitchen island like two rams. My left hand stopped his right hand from pulling his weapon free from the holster on his right hip. I slammed a head butt into the bridge of his nose. I felt the cartilage of his nose compress fully underneath the weight of my forehead before I heard it snap and pop. I drove my right fist into his left side, punching his kidney with everything I had in me. I heard the air escape his lungs, carrying with it a groan of pain. With my left hand keeping his weapon pressed firmly to his stomach, I under hooked his left arm with my right arm. Grabbing a fistful of the back of his suit, I began steering him around the circular kitchen table. I pressed his back against the plantation shutters covering a kitchen window. I used the fingers of my right hand to move the shutter up and down, signaling Valerie and Leecy all was clear.

  “Tell me everything, and I’ll let you live. Tell me nothing, and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

  He stammered as he coughed up the blood running down his throat from his shattered nose and said, “I was hired to work with Porter on a need-to-know basis. No details other than the need to apprehend you and your family ASAP.”

  “Were you talking to Porter on the phone just now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Porter FBI, and how long do we have before he and Travis arrive?”

  “Yeah, he’s FBI; he’s got the badge and everything. You don’t have long. Maybe ten minutes.”