The Arcturus Man

by John Strauchs

  Brett was stunned.

  “Well, that’s great Franklin,” said Brett.

  Reisinger was pleased. He drew an ace.

  “Hamid hasn’t been seen for days. His apartment shows no signs that he’s been there…not in days…and none of the neighbors reported seeing him recently,” said John.

  “So you’ve been watching Hamid’s apartment? You knew about this,” said Brett.

  “Yes,” said John. He sensed the problem. If Brett’s feelings were hurt, it was Jared’s problem, not his.

  “Why haven’t you been able to pick up any of these with your…let’s say mind reading abilities?” asked Reisinger.

  Jared was tired of hearing that and was not going to explain yet again that he really can’t read minds.

  “Mashhadi was always reciting chants from the Koran. He is an observant Muslim so I didn’t think much of it. I now understand that he was camouflaging his thoughts. It’s very clever actually. My Arabic is pretty good, but when I sensed the Koran, it was difficult to sort things out and I quickly lost interest. Infidel has a lot of contexts,” said Jared. “As it turns out, I was the infidel.”

  “Why does Al Queada have such an interest in you, Jared? I gather that it has something to do with that patent, but I’ve never really understood the direct connection,” asked Reisinger.

  “Let me address that,” said Brett. “The detection technology that Jared developed will cripple terrorist planning and tactics for years to come. It shuts down car and suicide bombings by making checkpoints and drive-by screening effective, not to mention the detection of roadside IEDs. Airport screening becomes foolproof and finally ensures that cargo and airports and seaports can be screened one hundred percent. Al Queada would do anything to prevent this technology from being developed. As long as the secret is in Jared’s head, killing him stops the technology,” said Brett.

  “That is why I spent the last two weeks writing down all of the specifications for the technology. It takes me off Al Queada’s hit list,” said Jared. “I Fedex’d it to the White House yesterday.”

  “So you will be off Hamid’s hit list as well?” asked Brett.

  “I don’t think so. He has become irrational about getting me. Remember, it’s about vengeance for Hamid, not just religious fanaticism. I frankly don’t comprehend why he associates me with the death of his sister, perhaps he doesn’t. It may be that he received a religious order from some cleric, or whoever, so he has committed himself to carry out the will of Allah no matter what,” said Jared.

  “Can we find him?” asked Brett. He turned to John.

  “Assuming I still have a job, I will get the Bureau on it tomorrow. While the FBI may not have a great interest in protecting Jared, we are now dealing with a known Al Queada operative living in the United States…worse…living in Boston,” said John.

  “I am confident that he is coming to us,” said Jared.

  “Meaning what?” asked John.

  “Jenny’s sister is getting married tomorrow,” said Jared.

  “Meaning what?” asked John.

  The appetizers were set in front of everyone and the wine glasses were filled. Jared stayed silent until the waiters left the table.

  “As you know, some unwelcome notoriety has been inflicted on me recently. That I will be attending the wedding has been in the papers. It was even picked up by the Globe. I was able to get St. Ann’s by the Sea for the wedding and the reception is going to be at the Nonantum Resort. The Bush Compound is across the inlet from the Church and they often use the Resort for their own functions. Unfortunately, this wedding has gotten a great deal of publicity,” said Jared. “And its too late to stop it.”

  Jared turned to Reisinger. “Franklin, this is an Episcopal church right on the Maine coast just outside of Kennebunkport. It is a beautiful stone church. They usually close it for the winter at the end of August, but they are going to keep it open a few days longer for the wedding. There will be no staff, just the reverend, but I am sure we can pitch in to make it work,” said Jared.

  “As a matter of fact…or at least strong conjecture…I heard from some friends at the Secret Service that the President might drop in during the reception. He is going to be in Kennebunkport for someone’s birthday and supposedly said something to the effect that you owed him one from Panama and that he wanted to meet the smartest person on the planet,” said Reisinger. “Hamid is coming for you, Jared. Obama would be a bonus, of course.”

  “Interesting,” said Jared. “To be on the safe side, let’s assume that Hamid got that same information somehow.”

  “So what to do you think Hamid is planning?” asked Brett.

  “I think he’s missing because he is purifying his body. I expect Hamid to show up at either the wedding or the reception as a suicide bomber,” said Jared.

  “Won’t the Secret Service have everything covered?” asked Brett.

  “They don’t know what they’re facing,” said John. “I’ll brief them tonight after dinner and I’ll get the Bureau’s special tactics guys down here by sunrise. What time is the wedding, Jared?”

  “It will start at noon,” said Brett. “The reception starts are 2 pm. It is a short ceremony…you know…it’s Episcopal.”

  John dropped his napkin on the table and stood up. “I’m going to make some calls right now. We don’t have much time.”

  “Good idea Agent Cabet,” said Reisinger. John left the dining area.

  “Jared, except for Hamid, everyone whose been trying to kill you is gone or out of the picture,” said Brett.

  “Not everyone,” said Reisinger. “You are forgetting about John Comfort Anderson. He’s a big part of why I suggested this meeting. He is a serious problem for me, not to mention for Jared.”

  “He’s out of the picture too, Franklin, or at least he soon will be,” said Jared.

  Reisinger looked skeptical.

  “Why do you say that?” asked Reisinger.

  “The ultra-religious Mr. Anderson is a pedophile. He has a stash of child pornography in a secret room in his basement in his home in Potomac, Maryland. With your help Franklin, and the law enforcement entity of your choice, we can get him in prison in a very short time, especially if you can find some way of getting the Eastern District Court to get involved,” said Jared.

  “The rocket-docket court! That’s great Jared,” said Brett.

  “I am please to learn of this, but how could you know this?” asked Reisinger.

  “The Agency played around with distant viewing, didn’t it?” asked Jared.

  “Well, yes, we did, but it never amounted to anything,” said Reisinger.

  “Distant viewing doesn’t work the way the CIA thought it did, but it does work in a fashion. I parked on the side of the road near his house. As long as I could see the house, it was possible to visualize everything about the house. The only problem with distant viewing is that it doesn’t work at a great distance. You have to be close,” said Jared.

  “And you’re absolutely certain about this?” asked Reisinger.

  “Absolutely!” said Jared. “I can tell you exactly where this room is and I can describe the child porn in his collection. Haven’t you ever wondered why he takes so many vacation trips to Costa Rica? He’s being serviced in San Jose,” said Jared.

  “The sanctimonious son of a bitch,” said Reisinger. “I know places overseas where we can get the fucking bastard castrated. Every other word is God or Jesus. Why couldn’t I see this? It’s so fucking obvious now. Wait until I get my hands on that asshole station chief in Costa Rica.”

  This was a side of Reisinger that they hadn’t seen yet.

  “Can you smoke in this restaurant?” asked Reisinger. He was angry.

  “No. Maine just passed a law outlawing it. Smokers aren’t welcomed in this state,” said Jared.

  Franklin lit up anyway. He pulled his appetizer plate closer and used it as an ash tray.

  John walked back to the table. The executive chef, Jeff
rey was standing near the kitchen door and frowning at Reisinger. Jared waved him off.

  “I think everything is set. We should have a small army here by early morning. The Secret Service already has an advance team here. Something to do with the President coming to the area tomorrow,” said John. He glanced at Reisinger.

  Everyone chuckled.

  “Did I say something funny?” asked John.

  “No, you didn’t, but thanks for the intel, John,” said Brett.

  John noticed that Reisinger was smoking again. He hadn’t noticed the cigarette earlier.

  “Gauloises! Jesus man! Are you trying to kill yourself?” asked John.

  “Everything to excess, young man,” said Reisinger. “Everything to excess.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. I haven’t seen those damn French coffin nails for years…ever since I quit I guess. I tried them once,” said John. “I didn’t know you could still buy them.”

  Their table was cleared and the food service began.

  “Franklin, we have to talk about you now,” said Jared.

  “Yes, I’ve been waiting for that,” said Reisinger.

  “We need a clean slate. We would like you to retire,” said Brett.

  “I am fine with that. It’s time anyway for this old war horse to go out to pasture. I just want to make sure that I don’t have to go to one of the Agency’s retirement centers, if you know what I mean,” said Reisinger.

  “No one here is a government decision maker so I don’t know how we could guarantee that, but I don’t see that happening. I think you are going to get your gold watch and pension,” said Jared. “Moreover, if Obama does drop by tomorrow, I’ll discuss this with him.”

  “I would appreciate that, Jared,” said Reisinger.

  “But in return, you have to help us take care of Anderson,” said Brett.

  They all enjoyed a magnificent dinner, followed by desert and coffee. Jared felt good about the new developments. All of his enemies, save Hamid, have been eliminated. His patent is going through. He is transferring the technology in his head to the government and that should get the Al Queada monkey off his back. The possibility of being arrested for the murder of Smolenskiy was barely a concern. There was no evidence. It was doubtful that he would ever be charged. The Grand Jury did not hand down an indictment.

  Jenny was safe; that was the most important thing. As to their future relationship, perhaps that will sort itself out some day. But, there was still Hamid. Jared was certain that he was in the area. One way or another, this last threat will be resolved soon…perhaps tomorrow.

  Kennebunkport, Maine The Next Day – Late Morning

  Krissy ran across the lawn in front of the church to the sea wall, her lacey white wedding gown and veil flowing behind her. She ran in bare feet. She was still was a vibrant young woman full of life, fun, and optimism.

  This was the most beautiful church setting she had ever seen. The seas were high and the waves were exploding against huge boulders lining the coastline. The sun was beaming and the sky was a vivid blue. White gulls were gathering beyond the breakers, trailing after fishermen. Lobster boats were just a few hundred yards off shore gathering and dropping pots. She didn’t need a camera for this picturesque scene; she needed Norman Rockwell. It was a gorgeous day for an outdoor wedding.

  “ Krissy was a delight,” thought Jared. “She was a black butterfly flittering across the grass in glee.”

  He had spared no expenses. He surveyed the scene. The outdoor pavilion was festooned with red roses and endless garlands of baby’s breath and carnations. A bright scarlet carpet was rolled out from the altar to the entry. Rose petals were strewn across the permanent stone seats and folding chairs waiting for guests. The reverend was preparing the altar for the wedding. He was wearing a magnificent embroidered white surplice under an ornate chasuble over a golden stole. The snow white surplice was in sharp contrast to the reverend’s dark complexion. After almost two millennia, Roman dress could still be found. It was preserved by the Catholic and Episcopal Churches. Few people, if any, considered that the Roman Empire morphed into the Roman Catholic Church or that the emperor became the pope. Rome still lived.

  It was quite remarkable. Jared had little interest in religious institutions but he understood the great importance of ceremony in human culture. He wanted Krissy’s wedding to be as wonderful for her as it could possibly be. In small measure, it was a way for Jared to atone for his often harsh and thoughtless treatment of Jenny.

  Jake was inside the church getting dressed. He and his groomsmen arrived very late, having stayed up almost all night at his bachelor party. Jake was hung over. Jenny was Krissy’s Maid of Honor. Jenny was the only one. Krissy didn’t like most of the girls from school and hadn’t gotten close enough to any of them to invite them to be a part of the bridal party. A few were guests. It didn’t bother her. The people who were important to her were here.

  The Nilsson clan had gathered at the entrance to the stone church. Jared put down his suitcase and walked over to introduce himself.

  “Jared, I would like you to meet my mother,” said Jenny.

  “I am so pleased to meet you Ingrid,” said Jared, in flawless Swedish, extending his hand. “Ing’s beauty…Ing the Norse God of earth’s fertility. A beautiful name.”

  “Thank you. That is a charming insight. I have indeed heard a great deal about you Jared. I am glad that we finally have an opportunity to meet,” said Ingrid Nilsson, answering in Swedish.

  Jenny was pleased. He seemed to have her mother’s approval.

  “And this is my brother, Lars,” said Jenny.

  Lars was a giant. Every part of him was in scale so one didn’t get a sense of how large he was until you got close.

  Lars took Jared’s hand and squeezed. His eyes widened when Jared squeezed back…harder.

  “I like a man with a firm handshake, Lars,” said Jared.

  “Yea, me too,” said Lars.

  “I told you what would happen, Lars. You said you weren’t going to do that,” said Jenny.

  “I didn’t believe it, Jenn,” said Lars. Jared laughed, followed by Lars. Her mother just smiled.

  “I wish my grandmother could have been here today. Maybe she is,” said Jenny. She winked at Jared.

  “Excuse me,” said Jared. He took his suitcase to the seating area and set it down next to the first folding chair in the back row.

  “Taking off right after the ceremony?” asked Jenny.

  “No, not at all. I’ll be at the reception,” said Jared.

  That seemed to satisfy Jenny. She walked back to the group and began talking with her mother.

  Brett walked over to the growing group.

  “Hello, I am Brett Koutsanoudis.” He shook everyone’s hand. He noticeably winced when he got to Lars. Lars smiled.

  John Cabet was waiting in the car park area. He signaled to Jared and Brett to join him. They both walked over to John.

  “What’s up?” asked Brett.

  “Everyone is posted. We have road blocks set up. There is a patrol boat cruising off shore. The special tactics guys formed a perimeter. We even have a few guys in plain clothes. We’ll have to do this all over again at the reception, but I think we’re in pretty good shape,” said John.

  “Hamid’s close. I can feel him,” said Jared.

  “How close?” asked John.

  “I don’t know but I am certain he is in the area,” said Jared.

  “Secret Service hasn’t shown up. I don’t think the President is going to show up today,” said John

  It was almost noon. All of the guests were seated. Each guest received a small gold cross pin bearing the initials of Krissy and Jake. Jared had provided the pins as well. It was a rush overnight job by a local jeweler. Jenny thought it was a thoughtful gesture and thanked Jared for caring that much. John Cabet knew better. It was to identify to the FBI team who was cleared for the ceremony. John wanted metal detectors but Jared talked him out of it. Kris
sy and Jake might have canceled the entire ceremony over that kind of imposition. Krissy and Jenny, and most of the bridal party knew that the FBI was providing security, and they thought they knew why, but there were limits to how much intrusion Krissy would tolerate. The government was always to be feared. No one in the wedding party knew that there was a suicide bomber threat.

  The ushers escorted Krissy’s mother to her seat in the front. The bridal party was lined up. The reverend had gone back into the rectory. Ingrid Nilsson was nervous. Her youngest daughter was getting married. More importantly, the Nilsson’s were Lutherans. She had never been to an Episcopal wedding before. She didn’t know what to expect. It all looked very Catholic to her. The Protestant Reformation had deep roots in Sweden. She glanced backward. Krissy was radiant and beautiful. She was so beautiful. Lars was going to give his sister away. Ingrid fretted. The reverend should be at the altar when Krissy begins the Processional. The Lutherans would have had the reverend waiting for her, not the other way round. Ingrid thought it was disgraceful to keep the wedding party waiting.

  The outdoor pavilion didn’t have an organ so Jared arranged for a large MIDI player that could simulate not only an organ, but many of the other instruments that Handel wrote for. Krissy selected the Arrival of the Queen of Sheba for the Processional. She liked the image of being the Queen of Sheba and Jake, King Solomon. The music started. Lars held Krissy’s hand in the crook of his arm and they slowly began to walk down the aisle. Jake was twitching nervously. His rented tux was too tight.

  The side door to the rectory opened and the reverend walked out and slowly stepped across the lawn to the back side of the pavilion. He was hooded, walking slowly and respectfully to the altar.

  Jared’s senses suddenly flashed over. Hamid was here. He was right here, but where? Jared looked toward the altar. The reverend was reciting chants from the Koran. In an instant, he reached down next to his chair and held his finger on a brass button on the side of his suitcase.

  “John, the reverend is Hamid,” whispered Jared into his sleeve mike. The channel was open to the snipers in the parking lot. John and the snipers were wearing bone phones. For the moment, they were all a single organism.