The Grey Ghost

by Nicholas Cara

  “Patsy, haven’t you listened to anything I said? There isn’t anything to figure out; Jason tells you right here!” Kate replied biting back her anger.

  Kate briskly started to read the decoded pages to Patsy and Joe. There Jason explained how he had been abducted by his killers at the airport upon his arrival back to the United States. He later went on to wonder why the two goons, one a large brute he heard called Vega and the other a skinny yet equally disgusting individual he only heard mentioned as Wigs, had locked him in a small side room leaving him alone for hours on end. The only interaction he had with them was when they would continually ask him about the artifacts he had brought back from the expedition. He couldn’t understand why either would care about the worthless trinkets they had found in Greece, yet at times they forcefully questioned him.

  “Well I’ll be; this kid will be the death of both of them I’d wager. We can have Wiggy thrown in a dark cell for life with this,” Patsy grumbled interrupting after he had heard the name “Wigs” in the Kate’s tale.

  “Wiggy is the smallest snake in this nest of vipers Patsy,” Kate said. “On…on the last page Jason made sure to write down a conversation he overheard through the door between the two where they talked about receiving orders from the guy really calling the shots.”

  Kate’s finger was trembling with anger as she pointed to the final paragraph in the journal where eleven numbers had been highlighted next to its “T-22” decoder.

  There, under each number in Kate’s handwriting was the translated name. As soon as Joe saw the name, he understood why Kate had been so furious when they had arrived. The ringleader of this misery fit like a glove into the puzzle they had slowly been piecing together since that horrifying night. Jason had reached back from his own grave to demand justice against this villain, and Joe, taking a quick peak above to silently thank him for his help, was more than willing to oblige him.

  Rosán cursed out loud as a spray of oil splattered across his face. Reaching wildly, he started digging through the opened tool chest next to him for something to wipe at the mess. Finding only an old rag, he tried as best he could to remove the grease from his forehead and glasses, consequently ending up only in smearing the mess over the lens of his spectacles rather than cleaning them.

  “Blasted pressure is still too high. I have to get a working relief system attached here or I’ll never reach the proper oscillation,” Rosán muttered to himself partially blinded now without his glasses.

  “I hope that doesn’t mean you will fall behind schedule doctor,” echoed a grumble of a voice from the other side of the lab. “This contraption must be ready on time. There can be no exceptions.”

  Looking across the lab, Rosán spotted a large form silently appearing out of the shadows, Mr. Vega.

  “How can a man of that size move so silently?” Rosán thought to himself startled at the sudden appearance of the giant. He had no idea the monster was even in the room.

  “This contraption…is a highly precise piece of equipment that in the right hands can move both heaven and Earth. It can and will not be rushed Mr. Vega!” Doctor Rosán boasted regaining his composer.

  “This piece of junk is worthless unless it is completed on time, doctor. Our schedule, a schedule that you yourself set up, is coming to an end and our boss will not accept failure,” Vega regaled stepping closer to the smaller man.

  Visually swallowing at the giant’s presence towering above him, Doctor Rosán took a giant step away from the beast and quickly replied trying to smile, “No worries my large friend. This shaker will be more than ready at its duly appointed time.”

  Vega’s only reply to this promise was a loud clearing of his throat, which to Rosán sounded more like a bear growl than a simple clearing of phlegm.

  “Have you had any luck procuring additional men for our operation?” Rosán asked seeking to divert the massive man’s attention.

  Sneering at this, Vega replied in an even lower growl, “I had a few fellows in mind; however, Polumbi and O’Donnell went and got themselves pinched trying to snatch up some rich little brat.”

  “Was that the foiled kidnapping splashed all over the papers a few days ago?” Rosán asked returning to his machine.

  “Yeah, idiots flip their car and end up getting caught by this stupid hero. The time is coming where I cross paths with this Grey Ghost. He has stuck his nose far too deep in our affairs,” Vega growled smacking his fist against the table nearly splintering it.

  “No need to worry about that media darling my large friend. The last thing we need to do is lose our focus because of some city folktale about a man who walks through walls,” Rosán replied. “I assume you are going to be able to arrange the needed muscle to achieve tomorrow night’s objective, am I right Mr. Vega?”

  “Doctor, my part will be completed. Just make sure your highly precise piece of equipment is finished on time,” Vega answered as he exited the lab, leaving Doctor Rosán and his machine just as silently as he had appeared.

  Vega’s soft footsteps echoed across the polished marble floor, leading toward the lone doorway at the end of the hall where a small light hung as a guide for exiting the room. The residence was empty at this late hour except for the lone occupier Vega had traveled there to see. As Vega was just about to knock out of respect for the room’s resident, he was met with a soft, smooth voice that said, “Please do come in Mr. Vega.”

  Entering the darkened room, Vega found the only source of light to be a small desk lamp illuminating his seated host except for his face, which stayed covered in the shadows.

  “Good evening Mr. Vega. Please have a seat will you?” the silken voice spoke from the shade.

  “Thank you boss,” Vega replied slowly easing himself into the guest chair in front of the oak desk of his host. The chair creaked loudly under the strain of Vega’s large mass.

  “My, my…so what good tidings do you have for me today? Is the good doctor properly motivated to meet our goals Mr. Vega?” the silken-voiced figure started.

  “Yes boss, absolutely,” Vega responded respectively. “He completely understands that there will be no second chances in this game.”

  “A game…is that how you see our work Mr. Vega, as a game?” the voice sharply questioned. “One does not put his best efforts into winning a child’s game. Should I start to assume I am not receiving your best MR. VEGA? Because I must say, at this stage of our endeavor that would be very…very unfortunate.”

  “Sorry, sorry boss, I didn’t mean nothing by it, I’m sorry,” the seated giant stammered, apologizing from the shaded man’s reproach.

  “See that you choose your words better in the future my large friend. This is only the first of many operations I plan to undertake in this intolerable country. Our freunde will not accept failure under any circumstances after the considerable costs it has taken to place us here. You’d do well to remember that my friend,” the silken voice stated never retreating from the shadows.

  “Of course boss,” Vega replied lowering his eyes to the floor. Although Vega couldn’t make out his host’s face, it was impossible for him to miss the pleasure in the silken voice at the sight of the cowed giant.

  “I wanted you to know that I’ve made arrangements for Mr. Gregs to permanently leave our services. It seems the case leveled against him by the D.A. is quite substantial. Needless to say, we do not need to burden poor Mr. Gregs with remaining silent about our operation when he is to be questioned by the authorities. Does that bother you Mr. Vega?” the shadowed voiced asked.

  “No sir,” Vega replied quickly.

  “Are you sure Mr. Vega? I believed the wiry man to be friend of yours?” the voice questioned Vega’s quick response.

  “I have no friends, sir, only assets to be used and discarded for our goals,” Vega replied sitting up straight in the chair.

  “Excellent Mr. Vega, excellent,” the voice smoothly commended with a light clap of his still folded hands. “Now off with you, and please do
keep our dear Doctor Rosán on schedule by any means necessary. We only have a small window of time where a severe blow can be made to this intolerable country’s war effort, and I do mean to meet it.”

  “Yes Herr Minos,” Vega replied quickly standing from the chair, saluting, and exiting the darkened office.

  PART THREE: A HERO SHAKEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The chilled breeze bit into Joe’s face as he rolled out onto the front porch. Gripping his steaming mug of coffee, he tried to block out the out the morning wind and the now persistent ache that the shift in temperature was causing in his left thigh.

  “Am I really going to become that old man who can tell it’s going to rain by the twinge in his bones?” Joe thought rubbing his thigh trying to work out the knot that had formed.

  Starring off into the overcast neighborhood, Joe tried for the seemingly hundredth time to calm his thoughts. He had hoped in vain that the early morning chill would allow him to calm the rolling storm of events thundering through his head. After Patsy had left last night, Joe laid in his room starring at the ceiling trying as best as he could to organize his thoughts. However, both his confusion and anger over the facts Kate had laid out for them fought him along the way for the entire night.

  Exhaling a long breath Joe watched the warm vapor slowly rise from his mouth until it was whisked away by the strong breeze. The sky didn’t look to Joe as it was readying itself to open up with a storm, but he couldn’t help notice the wind buffeting the trees along side of the porch.

  “Looks like a storm’s coming,” a voice called out as Joe heard the unmistakable squeak of the old metal screen door opening behind him. Glancing back, Joe noticed his father, Stanley, dressed in his usual thick work clothes and boots, carrying his green large thermos of coffee as he approached.

  “Maybe . . . the wind is definitely blowing today. Is it that time already?” Joe asked tuning his chair to face his father.

  “Same time as every day,” Stanley smiled back at Joe. “I actually expected to find Patsy snoring on the sofa after that marathon you three were working last night.”

  “Well the big guy ran home a few hours ago,” Joe replied. “The last thing we should be doing is pulling an all-nighter and then hit our beat on our last leg. Today is definitely not going to be a walk in the park.”

  “Big day huh?” Stanley asked raising his eyebrows at Joe. Stanley placed a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder and asked, “Anything you want to talk about son? It’s not hard to notice those shoulders of yours slouching from whatever weight you’ve got up there.”

  “The weight of the world and the Moon on top like the cherry,” Joe thought back to his father’s comment. Looking up at his dad, Joe couldn’t stop himself from showing his unease. Be it lack of sleep or simply that reassuring smile from his dad, Joe finally allowed them to cascade.

  “Since I’ve been home I’ve been trying to wall off the craziness out there. I deluded myself into thinking that I could build a castle around my little parts of the world and keep them safe. But that madness, that disease, well it’s at our gates now, first the professor, and now… Dad, I’m not sure how to keep it at bay anymore.”

  “Well now…” Stanley said rubbing his chin taking a seat in the wicker chair next to Joe. “I guess sometimes this world does seem to spin backwards doesn’t it? Son, there have been people in this world that enjoy seeing it crumble around them since the beginning. They’re just sick in the head, you know missing Friday in a week, but that doesn’t stop them from blowing like a hurricane in your face trying to topple you down.”

  Stanley reached out over the banister of the porch letting the wind flow over his palm. He let it raise and lower his palm like a little plane flying into the breeze.

  “You know you can swing and swing until your arms fall off fighting against the wind, but the best way to overcome it is to simply endure it. Have a good foundation, stand strong, and endure them as this house does this wind. Soon enough son, like a storm those beasts will run out of hot air.”

  Joe sat there listening to his father, astonished at how quickly and easily the elder Bevine took a simple turn of phrase and made it make sense to a situation as crazy as Joe’s.

  “But hey what does this old man know?” Stanley said as he started to stand up from the chair. “You’re the one who’s been out there, fighting the monsters in the alleys. I bet you’ve even seen this silly Grey Ghost the papers rave about. Me, I’m just the guy who pulls most of the ore for furnace number two day in and day out.”

  “You know what mister ore man of furnace number two?” Joe said stopping his father. “I’ve been out there and I’ve been around the world and back, but I don’t think I’ve met another guy as great as you.”

  “Well… thank you son,” Stanley said grinning as he reached over gripping his son by the shoulder.

  “Well of course he’s a great guy…”

  The voice surprised the two Bevines from the door behind them. There wrapped in a large coat gripping her own steaming mug as if it was her only lifeline from the blowing wind was Kate. Leaning against the doorway, she was doing a poor job of masking her own exhaustion as she looked at them through eyes half shut.

  “Well there’s the daughter I never knew I had,” Stanley laughed walking over to the sleepwalking lady. “I tell you son, you’re one lucky guy. There are not many girls that look this pretty this early in the morning.”

  “Oh Dad…” Kate yawned leaning her head against his shoulder. “So what are you two talking about out here?”

  “Nothing much, right Joe?” Stanley said giving a wink to Joe in the process. “Just telling Joe he shouldn’t keep you up so late.”

  “Well he can have this detective work. The hours are terrible,” Kate yawned.

  “I’ve got to get going or I’ll miss the morning horn,” Stanley said grabbing his thermos from the floor. “We’re starting that new run of plates for that Army doohickey today, has the whole place hopping mad.”

  “The Mill is working with the Army? That’s new. I’m surprised I haven’t heard about it.” Joe said.

  “They’ve been trying to keep it hushed up so the papers have kept it out the news for the time being. They’ve been too busy chasing ghosts lately anyways to worry about our little excitement. Will I see you for lunch son?” Stanley asked.

  “I’m not sure dad,” Joe said exchanging a look with Kate at Stanley’s mention of the Grey Ghost. “Today is going to be a really long day. I might not make it back in time.”

  “Well, be careful,” Stanley said grabbing his hat as the wind threatened to blow it off his head. “And remember to get you footing right son. This world is always trying to blow us over if we let it.”

  Joe’s father waved to the two and started the long trek to the Barnes Mill.

  “So were you going to tell him?” Kate asked.

  “Tell him about what? ... You mean about my spooky side?” Joe replied. “I don’t know…”

  “Well I think you should,” Kate replied taking a large sip from her mug.

  “Really?”

  “Joe Bevine there is no way you are going to keep this a secret from your parents forever. You are one of the worst liars I’ve ever met,” Kate said. “It will just eat and eat at you until they find out anyways.”

  “Hmm…well I’ll figure out how to break it to them that their only son runs through the city as a masked vigilante later,” Joe said turning his chair to head back inside the house. “Patsy will be here soon enough and like I said to Dad this is going to be a really long day.”

  “Well let me know if there is anything more I can do. I’ll be here today,” Kate replied.

  “You’re not going to the university?” Joe asked.

  “Already called the lab and told them I’m taking a few days off,” Kate answered. “I’m not headed back there until you throw that piece of slime in a padded cell. Truthfully dear you might not have a lot left to arrest if I see him before
you do.”

  “That’s probably the best idea honey,” Joe agreed, understanding about whom Kate was referring. “Don’t worry, that won’t take long with everything you’ve given us.”

  “I packaged everything for you in a yellow envelope on your bed upstairs. I have extra copies if you need them, just let me know,” Kate said as Joe opened the screen door.

  “Thanks Kate, you really have been amazing through all this, just amazing,” Joe said looking back at his girl.

  “Well it’s not over yet,” Kate reminded him. “Oh and I left you something else next to the envelope. It’s in the black box.”

  “A gift for me? It’s not my birthday,” Joe smirked forcing the front wheels of his chair over the threshold.

  “Let’s just say wise guy this is your early birthday, Christmas and anniversary gift all wrapped up into one, silly boy,” Kate laughed lightly blowing him a kiss across the porch.

  “It still bothers me to bring all of that stuff back here,” Patsy muttered to himself as he parked the cruiser along the curb a few blocks away from Police Plaza One.

  “Where do you think we should take it Patsy? It’s not like we can bury it in the backyard until the prosecutor needs it,” Joe said holding up the stuffed yellow envelope that Kate had prepared for them. “If we are ever going to hang Rosán with this, we’ve got to at least run it all by the Captain. Bringing in that pompous slime ball with only the scribbling’s of a murder victim is going to be tricky enough. I want to have the brass backing us before we do anything.”

  “Katie’s just got me looking over my shoulder now. The Captain told her to take the journal to your house to work on because he didn’t completely trust this place anymore,” Patsy said retrieving Joe’s chair from the trunk. “What’s left out here if we can’t trust a fellow wearing the badge? And if there really is a rat on the inside here at the station, how are we going to know that all of Katie’s work won’t disappear from the evidence locker tonight?”