He threw the page back into the drawer and returned to work. A few minutes later, his phone rang. It was Loni.
“Colt,” she breathed excitedly into the phone. “I’m headed back to the house. I’ve found something that you need to look at.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Not on the phone, it may be tapped,” she replied.
“We don’t live in a police state,” he responded.
“Tell me that after you see what I have uncovered,” she baited.
“That big?”
“Yeah.”
***
Loni’s little Porsche soon screeched to a halt in front of the house. As she entered the office, Colt noticed she had a wild, feral look in her eyes. She was wearing a pink jumpsuit and sandals. Her hair was everywhere. She looked delicious, but he kept the observation to himself, as she seemed to be mad at the world. He folded his hands and placed them on the desk. He wanted to appear calm. Her body language vibrated with tension as she dropped the papers to the floor, plopped down in the chair, and spread her legs so that she could reach her material. The last time that she had done that, Colt had leaned back to avoid staring. He leaned forward this time.
“Remember that picture I took from old man Jones’s house?” she asked.
“The Harvard students?” he asked. “Didn’t the FBI take it?”
“I don’t think they knew about it. Anyway, I decided to check it out.”
“Loni, I don’t want us to be arrested.”
“Now who is talking about a police state?” she quipped.
“Touché.”
“Look what I’ve found.” She picked up a copy of the picture. Colt could see names written in red ink next to each person. She flipped it onto the desk.
He stared at the names. They were all familiar. “So, you tracked down his friends,” he remarked.
“Let me give you the rundown.” She picked up a news clipping. “The first one was a multi-term congressman. He died ten years ago. He lost his position when he could not explain where his campaign contributions came from. In the fifties, he was a key member of the McCarthy committee. You remember him, don’t you?”
“Loni, I was a small boy then,” a slightly irritated Colt replied. “But they were purging anyone that they didn’t like under the guise of rooting out Communists.”
“Right. Here is friend number two. He is an ultraconservative talk show host. He also served in Congress and has been a longtime proponent of closing our borders to any immigration. He proposed a ‘shoot to kill’ bill for guards on the Mexican border.”
“Many consider him a fascist,” Colt commented.
“Number three was an industrialist. He actually died five years ago, but his company makes every kind of chemical and biological weapon known to man. They are heavy into experimentation. They have been investigated many times. The rumors are that they have used humans for some of their experiments. His daughter inherited the business.”
“All the rumors are unproven,” Colt pointed out.
“That’s because the former head of the FBI—and current head of Homeland Security—is one of his friends.” She tossed him another picture. He stared at the face.
“My God, Loni. Do you know what this means? This man pushed through passage of the Patriot Act.” Colt stabbed his finger at the picture.
“I have two more pictures,” she pushed on. The first one landed on his desk in the perfect position for Colt to study it. It was a grainy newspaper photo, but he could not miss the chubby, spiked-haired woman in the background. It was taken a month ago, when the director of Homeland Security announced that he was declaring martial law in the hurricane-ravaged cities of the Gulf Coast. The new director was known for his no-nonsense approach to managing crises. He was the fourth man in the old picture.
“The last photo is from yesterday’s paper.” She stood up and leaned across the desk as she handed it to Colt. It was a picture of the director of Homeland Security shaking hands with a man named John Gerut. “He is the son of George Gerut. George was actually the brother of Hal Jones and yes, that is our friend, Dr. Carolyn Thorne, in the background. She works for the director of Homeland Security.”
“Son of a bitch,” Banyon whispered.
The caption under the picture said: “Security expert agrees to train and lead a private, fast-deployment security force for Homeland Security.”
“Gestapo,” Colt muttered. He was in panic mode. The United States was headed towards becoming a fascist state and no one realized it. He yelled out to Wolf.
“Is this the secret of the book?”
“Splendid! You have finally figured out the hidden messages. It is a long-term plan to takeover America,” Wolf gloated.
“But how could this be? Jones had the locations and the book had the codes,” Banyon said.
“Actually, Jones was the backup plan. He had no idea what was in the secret message. He did exactly what they told him to do. Children of the original five are the ones entrusted with preserving the Third Reich. George went to China during the war to destroy the book, but could not find it.”
“So, George Gerut has had access to the money all along,” Colt said.
“They’ve used it to put their Nazi friends in power and to follow the plan,” Wolf replied. “All of the men in the photo were born in Germany, although their records don’t show that. Three of them have sons and two have grandsons who are also working for the cause. One even owns a large media empire. George built a very successful weapons company that does a huge business with our government. He was told that Hal had been corrupted so he never contacted his own brother once he came to America. Hal was ostracized by his own organization and family.”
“So they knew everything that we were doing?”
“They were one step ahead of you all the way because of Dr. Thorne,” Wolf admitted.
“What’ll happen now?” Colt implored Wolf.
“My boy, we have much work to do. But today, you have other problems to deal with.”
“What problems?” Colt asked, but Wolf was gone.
Colt caught Loni up to speed.
“Colt, I am still confused. What does all this have to do with today in America?” Loni wailed.
“Maybe the master plan for the Third Reich was not for Germany, but for America. America is a much bigger country and very powerful. Hitler may have set a plan to infiltrate American politics using the ‘good old boy’ network. These men are very powerful today and one is even rumored to be a future presidential candidate. The Patriot Act is similar to the Nuremburg Laws; the Homeland Security elite military force is similar to the SS. They have the ability to influence public opinion with celebrities—that is, propaganda. They also have control of the largest weapons company in America. Do you see the parallels?”
“They still haven’t gone away, have they?” Loni said. A note of resignation was in her voice.
“No. They certainly have not gone away,” he responded.
Colt then started making a new list of objectives. Loni sat on the corner of the desk with a perplexed look.
“Do you think this was all ordained? I mean our coming together. We both have unique talents that can be used to hunt Nazis. Are we part of another curse or spell?”
“Sweetie, all I know is that we are the good guys. I think we’ll have more mysteries to solve about the Third Reich. I also know that I truly love you,” he added.
Ten minutes later, the front door bell rang. Loni suddenly was excited.
“Colt, my girlfriends are here for the party. Put that stuff away for today and come and meet them. I bought each of them a special outfit to impress your sons.”
He went with her to the door and opened it. There stood six stunning Chinese women in string bikinis and see-through wraps. They paraded into the house as Loni announced their names.
“This is Cindy,” she said with the smile of a proud mother. “Next we have April…”
Colt suddenly knew w
hat problem Wolf had referred to: He needed to find his sunglasses fast.
Authors Notes
This book is purely a work of fiction. None of the characters actually exists except in the sometimes-fertile mind of the author. Also, none of the organizations mentioned in the book is meant to resemble the real agencies, clans, or other groups. I have purposely adjusted them to fit my needs.
However, many of the facts in the book are true. There was indeed a Jewish ghetto in Shanghai during World War II. I visited it before it was torn down. I tried to describe it as it was. The war in China did have many sides: Japanese against Communist against Nationalists against warlords. They all fought each other. The people of China were the long-term losers, especially during the Rape of Nanking.
There is documented evidence of Japanese soldiers walking out of the jungles as late as the 1970s.
Finally, kudzu is a real plant and does grow in the southeast US. The depiction of its origin in the US is accurate. Incredibly, several universities are doing research on the effects of kudzu on alcoholism. But it may be thirty years before the results have any impact on society.
A Dubious Dream
Gerald J Kubicki
A Colton Banyon Mystery, featuring Adam Wesley
This book is dedicated to my grandchildren, Piper and Griffin
Prologue
Colton Banyon stood on his sprawling backyard deck and surveyed his property. He admired the lush vegetation which surrounded his two-acre plot. His one-level ranch home was located in a western suburb of Chicago called South Barrington.
It was a fine, late spring morning, and dew could be seen on many of the bushes. He sipped generic coffee from a large mug. It had just cream, no sugar. His first real thought of the morning was admitting to himself that he did not like strong coffee. He never went to the high-priced coffee stores. He couldn’t understand how people paid crazy money for coffee drinks that had longer names than most dinosaurs. Of course many people called him a dinosaur. He was almost sixty years old.
His second thought of the morning was to complete his usual morning ritual. He thanked The Big Guy for his remarkable life and for being able to get out of bed one more time. He lifted his coffee mug in salute.
He then thought about his plan for the day. Banyon was always very organized. He kept lists of things to do. He loved to scratch items off of his to-do list. Today his list was very short. He no longer worked a daily job. He was currently independently wealthy from an inheritance that he had never expected. So this gave him the opportunity to work on his research. Banyon was a student of history—especially World War II—and was forever researching details of events related to the big war. His favorite saying was that history repeated itself.
Banyon was also a partner in a small detective agency—the LCH Detective Agency, LLC—along with his best friend, companion, and lover. Her name was Loni Chen, she was Asian, Chinese to be specific, and he adored her. They, along with some unusual friends, specialized in finding and recovering ancient artifacts. Along the way, they also hunted Nazis, both old still living ones from WWII or todays version, and business was good.
He glanced at his watch and saw it was almost eight o’clock. Loni would be back soon from her martial arts workout. Although she was short, slim, and very feminine, she was a very dangerous, lethal fighter and had saved Banyon on several occasions. He never wanted to be on the bad side of his pretty ninja. He suddenly remembered he had promised to make her his special waffle mix for breakfast, and he headed back into the house. He never wanted to disappoint her.
They had been together for several years now, but she had the uncanny ability to keep him off balance almost all the time. Loni was the most beautiful woman he knew, but she was also unpredictable, impulsive, and unstoppable when she wanted her way. She was a handful, even if wrapped in a small, pretty package. She told him from the very start that she was not very domestic and was extremely messy. She was, however, a great lover. This meant the waffles needed to be ready. It made Banyon smile.
He could cook. He conjured up restaurant-quality dishes almost every day. Loni couldn’t boil water. He had tried many times to guide her and to instruct her on cooking a recipe, but she could not, or he also suspected, did not want to understand that an egg needed to boil for eight minutes. She would further complain that foods like lettuce had no nutritional value, so why bother to include it in the salad that he was making. As a result, he did almost all of the cooking, but she did entertain him in other ways.
He had just unplugged the waffle iron when he heard the garage door open. He knew that she would be in the house in just a few seconds and would immediately start chattering and asking impossible questions. She would also discard anything that she carried or didn’t need at the moment. Wherever the items landed, they would stay until Elizabeth, the housekeeper, picked them up. Elizabeth had gone from a part-time to full-time when Loni moved in.
The door to the garage flew open, and a barefooted Loni raced into the kitchen, with her long black hair trailing and a huge smile on her lips. She skidded to a stop in front of the large marble work island in the kitchen and threw her gym bag into a corner. She stopped and looked at him.
“Want to see what I can do?” she asked.
Before he could say anything, she quickly went into a handstand in front of the stunned Banyon. She was dressed in her favorite outfit—his, too. It included black spandex pants and a short, white workout top which didn’t reach her naval. The tight spandex accentuated her perfect legs and rear end. Even though she was over forty years old, she was a very hot babe and could pass for twenty-five. Banyon stood with a look of pure entertainment. She scissored her beautiful legs and soon fell over and assumed a crab walk. Banyon was no longer thinking about just waffles.
“Colt, why don’t you come over here and spot for me as I do my yoga exercises,” she said as she walked her hands toward her feet, her long hair trailing on the floor.
Banyon replied exactly as he knew she wanted. “I have a much better view from here.”
She turned her head to look at him. “So you like that I’m flexible,” she commented with a look of satisfaction.
“We have proven your flexibility many times,” he dryly remarked. “Now come and eat your breakfast before something happens.”
She quickly stood up and had her hands on her narrow hips. “Really,” she said in a seductive, singsong voice.
“You are very sexy,” he replied.
He knew she needed constant attention and stroking. Because of her old world upbringing, she could not understand why any man would pay any attention to her. She knew she had many faults. Her parents had drilled that into her. They also had wanted a boy. They acted like they were ashamed of her. That was why she had become a superb, aggressive fighter. She wanted to prove them wrong. Until Banyon had come along, she hadn’t had a successful relationship with a man. She was determined to make this one work. Along the way she had discovered flirting, flaunting, and satisfying sex with Colton Banyon.
She sat at the counter for only a minute when she announced, “Oops, I spilled some syrup on my workout shirt.” Banyon watched with great amusement as she whipped the shirt off and flung it over her head. It landed someplace in the family room. She turned and grinned at him.
“You had better take off the bra, too,” he smoothly said as he put a piece of waffle into his mouth. “You might spill on that, too.”
With uncanny speed, she reached behind her back, undid her small bra, and then balled it up. She threw it at Banyon’s head, but he was ready and caught it easily. He dropped it onto the marble counter.
“You just want to look at my breasts,” she complained, like it was a terrible thing.
“Yes I do.”
After about a minute of enjoying her waffle, she again spoke. “Oh, damn,” she seductively pouted.
“What.”
“Look, I got some whipped cream on my left breast.” She thrust it out so he could see i
t better. “What should I do?”
At that point Banyon left his chair and breakfast remained unfinished.
It was the start of a typical day in the Banyon household since Loni had come to live there.
***
Hours later, they were seated in Banyon’s well-appointed office in the front of the ranch house. He was logging on to the internet, and Loni sat at the desk across from him with her feet up and chattering away.
“Colt, let’s do something today. Do you want to go to the zoo?”
“No.” Banyon was busy reading an article on Yahoo.
“Want to go shopping and buy me a new dress?”
“We did that yesterday, remember?”
“I’m thinking about trading in my Porsche. I need help picking out a new one, please,” she begged him.
“It’s Sunday; they’re closed,” he replied.
“Do you want to play with…”
He cut her off without looking up from his monitor. “We already did that today.”
She was a little taken aback, but she pressed on. “The Yankees are in town. We can go to the game.” She knew the Yankees were his favorite team, and she wanted him to know she would perform the ultimate sacrifice and go to a boring baseball game with him.
“Bad matchup today; they’ll lose,” he muttered.
“So, what are we going to do?” Banyon heard a little bit of panic in her voice. She threw up her hands in frustration.
“Why don’t you get on your laptop and find out everything you can about an organization called the ‘Effort.’” Banyon knew that next to playing with him, Loni loved playing on her computer. He wanted her to stop talking so he could concentrate, but he also knew she would find much more information than he ever could.
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