Storm Unleashed (Quantum Touch Book 4)

by Michael R. Stern

  “What is wrong with that man?” asked Liz.

  “Don't worry, Liz. When has he ever been different?” Ashley said.

  “I better go down and explain it to him,” said Fritz.

  “George, what's wrong?”

  “I thought someone was hurt, or worse. That cheer came down the hall like a tsunami. Lockers were rattling.”

  “I think the kids scare you George. Why is that?”

  “Just getting old, I guess. I've been in schools now for almost forty years. And I worry about everything. Lois knows. She'll tell you. Did you say the Phillies have donated?”

  “Ted O'Neil spoke to the Phillies chairman, who told him the Phillies would donate $10,000. He told Ted that he had roped in the team's sponsors, and he would call Ted to tell him how much they would give.” George was listening, wide-eyed. “And for the championship, our pitchers will be Phillies players.”

  George whispered, “This could be big, Fritz.”

  * * *

  WHEN FRITZ REACHED home, he watched the flakes gather and melt on the windshield before going in. A line of cars fronted the house, so the usual suspects greeted him when he walked in the back door. Ashley was in the middle of a story. Linda followed him to the hall closet.

  He whispered, “Hi honey. I'm home.”

  She smiled and kissed him. “They all like being here, Fritz. I'll never get anything done.”

  “I'll pick up dinner and keep them occupied. Can you work in a bedroom? I think we still have an extra. Or the sunroom?”

  “I don't want to be rude.”

  “Lin, they know how much you have to do.” He cocked his head. “Is anything going on?”

  “The voices match. Hartmann appears to have been one of the Caballeros. Jane sent the other numbers to the NSA this afternoon. A puncture on the Wise woman's neck was detected, like a needle. No autopsy results yet.”

  “Did anyone mention the summit meeting?”

  “No.

  “Fritz, do you know what's wrong with Ash?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Fear of losing Jane.” Whispering, he filled her in.

  “He really is nuts. I see her almost as much as he does. We talk. She's crazy about him. But don't tell him.”

  * * *

  WHEN THEY GOT home, Ashley said, “I need to talk to you.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.” Jane sank into a cushion. “We need a new couch, Ash. This one's shot.”

  “We?” he asked.

  “Of course, we. You'll need one to sleep on when we fight. Isn't that how it's supposed to work? So what's up?”

  Ashley took a step back. “I want to know if you still want to marry me?”

  Her eyes widened. “Why would you think I wouldn't?”

  “You just seem so distant. You stay up half the night, and you're at the computer before I'm awake.”

  “Ash, I've never needed a lot of sleep. You know what's happening now. It's my job.” She gazed deep into his eyes. “Of course, I want to marry you. But you have something else you want to tell me. Out with it.”

  “I've lost girlfriends before. I mean, they died.”

  “Have you ever told Fritz and Linda?” she asked, tears lining her cheeks, his pain so palpable.

  “You're the only person I've ever told.” He wiped his right eye. “That's why I get scared every time you go into danger. Jane, I don't want to lose you, and you have so little regard for your own safety.”

  “And you, who faced terrorists and rescued me, twice, not to mention saved the president, are the epitome of caution?” She put her arms around his neck, and drew as close as she could to kiss him with a passion that lifted his spirit and his toes. When she loosened her hold, the sparkle in his eyes had returned, a gentle smile on his face. “Ash, I love you, and when this craziness is over, we'll get to spend some real time together. I think it's time you met my mother.”

  Chapter 15

  THE PRESIDENT STOOD in front of the mirror examining his hairline. “These weren't here yesterday,” he said, poking at some new gray hairs.

  As he entered the hall, the vice president exited the elevator. “We have pictures from San Diego,” he said. “They stopped in a strip mall. A motion sensor camera caught them with hoods down.” The facial analysis was still sketchy, but one person had been identified as a North Korean colonel tied to a trade delegation in Cuba.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “John, Charlie, Jim Beech, and the FBI.”

  “Does anyone know where this colonel is now?”

  “Charlie said the agency is on the ground, looking for him in Havana.”

  Before opening the door to his office, the president said, “I think we have another job for Fritz.”

  * * *

  THE PINK OCEAN portended the kind of news the man disliked. Sailor, take warning, he thought. He hated puzzles. When puzzles turned up, the most persistent would battle to solve them. To safely cloak his anonymity, he had learned from his grandfather when he was very young to leave clues that went nowhere. His father had taught him to leave no loose ends. They had left him the money to do both. But to maintain his invisibility, he was forced to rely on so many lesser beings. Too bad about the women, he thought, but then shrugged. Loose ends gone. A soft vibration in his pocket disturbed his reverie. “Where did you find him?” he asked. He gritted his teeth. “Bring him to me.” He stared out at the glimmer of the waves as the sun split the horizon.

  * * *

  FRITZ TOLD the second period class that he considered the Berlin Blockade and airlift a highlight event in the Cold War. Its success reflected on that entire generation. “Let's review it quickly, and I'll add some details. You read about how Germany, and Berlin, were split into four sectors.” He pulled down one of the old maps hanging over the blackboard. “Russian, French, British and American. Berlin was cut in half since it had been the capital, but it was completely inside the Soviet sector. West Berlin couldn't get food or anything else when the USSR cut off all the roads leading into the city.” He tapped the map with a yardstick. “Beginning in June, 1948, the Allies flew cargo planes into Berlin. The first day, thirty-two planes brought in eighty tons of food and supplies. When it became clear that the blockade would last, they flew in heavy equipment and built two new airports. Once they got going, they could load flights so fast they took off every four minutes. The ground crews in Berlin competed and a ten-ton cargo was unloaded in under six minutes. The airlift was so successful, and so embarrassing to the Soviets that they lifted the blockade in May '49. By the end, more supplies arrived in Berlin every day than had come by train and truck before the blockade began.” He leaned against his desk.

  “Mr. R,” said Eric. “I read that we would have helped the Russians rebuild Berlin and East Germany with the Marshall Plan, but the Russians refused.”

  “True, Eric. They were unwilling to accept the terms we insisted on in exchange for loans. I have a couple of handouts for homework. One is about the Marshall Plan and the other is about the blockade and airlift.”

  When the bell rang, Fritz thumbed through his notes for his next classes. Looking through the textbook, he flipped to pictures of the Alamo and thought about the movies he had seen. He placed a paperclip on the page. The face in the window came in and asked, “Where are you going?”

  “Hi Ash. Nowhere. Just marking the Alamo. I have a lecture about the Mexican War in the next couple of weeks.

  “And you're going to try to see the Alamo. I know you, Fritz.”

  “I hadn't planned on it. Wanna go?”

  “You're proving you're crazy.”

  * * *

  ANXIETY BANGED on past the middle of January. The investigations continued. Fritz avoided baseball in class since the tournament was so close. Ashley worked with Eric and Jean to finalize the scripts for the play and supervised the first rehearsals so Fritz could go home early.

  “Linda,” said Mary, “Jim has asked me on a date. He wants to take me to the range and then for din
ner.”

  “Now that sounds really romantic. When does this torrid affair take place?”

  “He kind of left it up to me. An evening or a weekend, whenever Jane can be here.”

  “We'll be fine, either way. You really don't need to be here all the time, Mary. It's not like we're a national secret or anything.”

  “Aside from the fact that you are, the president gave me explicit instructions. Until the bombing case is solved, I'm supposed to watch like a hawk and be sure someone else is here when I'm not.”

  “A few hours can't hurt. Why don't you tell Jim that Saturday night is fine. At least it's a date night. Tell him you talked with me, and I suggested the Old Lion Inn for dinner.” She chuckled. “That'll set the bar high enough for him.”

  “Is it nice?”

  “Nicest around. Food's spectacular.”

  * * *

  “NEXT WEEK, THE Iowa Caucuses will begin the presidential selection process,” Fritz said to his ninth graders. “Two weeks later, we'll have the New Hampshire primary. What's important about them?”

  Ted raised his hand, and his face grew pink. Fritz smiled and pointed to his formerly diffident student. “I don't think either of them are important this year.”

  “That's an interesting take, Ted. Explain, please.” Everyone listened to their new class leader.

  “Well, so many people are running, on both sides, that the votes are going to be split all over the place. Also, neither New Hampshire nor Iowa is large enough to make a difference, except maybe for getting people to drop out. Then it's about raising money.”

  “Good answer, Ted.”

  “For homework…” The boos were loud. “Stop it,” Fritz chuckled. “For homework, two things. I want you to read about the changes in the election process, pages 232-241, and I want you to predict the winners in the Iowa Caucuses and the New Hampshire primary. Have a nice weekend.”

  * * *

  FRITZ ARRIVED HOME to what appeared to be a fashion show, with one model, Mary McElroy. Linda and Jane were smiling. Mel was studying.

  “Hi, honey, I'm home. What's going on?”

  “Mary's got a date tomorrow with Jim, so we went shopping,” said Linda.

  Mary's black dress reminded Fritz of Jane's cocktail party dress getting ruined in the Israeli rescue.

  Jane's phone buzzed.

  “Jane, have you heard of Georg Badenhof?” asked the president. “He just landed at the bottom of a fifty-story building.”

  “International chemical business. That's the second rich guy in a month, sir. I wonder if he had any connection to Hartmann,” she said, speaking mostly to herself.

  “A dead man was discovered on the roof of the building too. Shot. Unregistered gun, no ID. No fingerprint identification yet. The bureau is checking the guy out.”

  “A rich guy jumps off a tall building after shooting another guy. Mr. President, that doesn't make sense. I think we have a third person involved. Just a feeling.”

  “A feeling or a logical conclusion? I'll talk to you later.”

  * * *

  WHEN FRITZ WALKED to the kitchen, Jane called Ashley, and they both sat at the table. She asked Fritz and Linda to sit, that Ashley had a story to tell them. They could tell he was reluctant, staring at his hands. “Ash, this is more important than a football game. Tell them.”

  He looked from Fritz to Linda, took a deep breath and said, “I've never told this to anyone. I only told Jane a few days ago.” He took a long breath. “You know I haven't had long relationships. Well, when I was in high school, I was in love with a girl who I had known since third grade. She was killed waiting to cross the street. When I was in college, I had a girlfriend, who was shot and killed coming to meet me. You remember Andrea Porter. She left teaching because she had cancer. She died, too. All those other women over the years … I was afraid something would happen to them, so I kept it short.”

  “I'm glad you told us,” said Linda. “That explains a lot. It also says just how important Jane is to you.”

  With the floodgate opened, Ashley told the whole story, including details he hadn't yet told Jane. Tears, waiting for years, spilled. Fritz grabbed the tissue box.

  “There's something else,” Jane said. “Get it out, Ash.”

  “No easy way to say this. I killed my brother. On that hunting trip, I'm the one who shot him.” He told them that his brother had separated from them and was playing in some bushes. Ashley had called out, but before anyone could stop him, he'd pulled the trigger. “My parents haven't really ever forgiven me.”

  Fritz dabbed his eyes with his shirt sleeve. With TJ on his lap, Fritz looked at Ashley and then at Jane.

  “Jane, you're the best thing that's ever happened to him. Do me a favor? Let someone else jump in front of bullets from now on.”

  “Yeah,” said Ashley, smiling again.

  “Not married yet, and you're already trying to change me,” Jane said.

  A LITTLE PAST midnight, they heard the key rattle in the front door. No one left the table. Most of the lights were dimmed or turned off, but Mary knew everyone was up. She invited Jim in, and they headed to the kitchen.

  “Hi, Mr. R,” said Jim.

  “Have a good time?”

  Mary said they did.

  “I'm on tomorrow early, so I better get going,” Jim said. He and Mary went to the front door.

  “I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of Jim Shaw,” said Fritz.

  * * *

  “FRITZ, IF IT'S okay, Ash and I will bring breakfast.” Jane's calling so early had his immediate attention. “The president called an hour ago. He's on Alan Carter's show this morning. He's announcing the summit for early March.”

  “Sure. What time did you get up?” he yawned.

  “He called at 6:15, but he's not on until eleven. A half-hour segment. Exclusive.”

  “Payment for the kidnapping.” On a new pad, he wrote “Summit—Early March.” He took out his pad for the tournament. The beginning of March, he thought, the second round. But because he didn't know the exact dates, all he could do was wait. Or call the President.

  “Good morning, Mr. Russell,” said the cheerful voice of Lily Evans. “How's TJ today.”

  “He's doing fine, thanks. Having breakfast right now.” Fritz grinned. She always asked. “Does he have a minute?”

  “I'll tell him you're on the line. Hold a moment, please.”

  Fritz said he wanted to know about the dates for the summit because the tournament would be going by then.

  “Fritz, I expect an invite to the finals. The summit will be on Saturday and Sunday. We can use the school without overlapping.”

  “Mr. President, I want to say something.” He paused to make sure it came out the way he wanted. “Ms. Evans has to be the best mood setter for anyone who calls you. No one could be upset after talking to her.”

  “Home-court advantage, Fritz.” He laughed. “I'll tell her you mentioned it.”

  As concerned as he was about the approaching tournament, Fritz was unable to avoid the Sunday interviews with primary candidates from both parties. For the first time in eight years, both parties had candidates in the Iowa caucuses. The three-year build-up had produced multiple candidates, including two women, one a business executive, the other a former U.S. senator and secretary of state. One Sunday host said that by the time he had a chance to interview them all, half would already have dropped out. Another story was the death of yet another very rich man. The guest said he wondered if the ninety-nine percenters had finally gone too far.

  * * *

  A FILLER STORY just before a commercial mentioned the strange deaths of two businessmen heavily involved in the global economy. The man listened as the guests expressed sorrow and condolences for people they didn't know. Not a regular viewer, he was waiting for the president's live interview. He had been alerted earlier that the president had a major announcement.

  * * *

  AFTER THE TV FANFARE, the theme song, the neon int
roductions, Alan Carter introduced the president, live from the White House. Carter asked if the president had good news.

  “Alan, I certainly hope so. For the first time, the world truly has a chance to see peace in the Middle East. On March 5 and 6, the United States will present a comprehensive approach to ending more than a century of warfare. Leaders from around the world will be attending.” The seriousness of his statement was followed by a smile.

  “Mr. President, can you tell us yet who will be attending?”

  “Not yet, Alan, but we will release the schedule of events in the next couple of weeks. The response thus far has been very positive. I look forward to making the program public.”

  “Mr. President, I can say from personal experience, you can be convincing.”

  * * *

  THE BEAUTIFUL DAY IN California didn't interest the man. As soon as he heard the dates for the summit, he made a phone call. “Get them ready. Plan a meeting and social gathering. Golf bags. The Hay-Adams. February 28 to March 7, eight rooms on the same floor. The higher the better. Do it now.” How can I be so fortunate?

  Chapter 16

  JANE WAS SMILING. “Fritz, he just put the world on notice. The questions were a plant. Alan Carter was willing to help.”

  “What's he doing, Jane?” asked Linda.

  “Setting up the NSA phone surveillance. They have the numbers I gave them. If someone is trying to mess with him, the phones on the list should get busy quickly.”

  “You mean he wasn't just announcing the summit?”

  “We already have the invitations out, and everyone has already responded. The president suggested putting a prefab room inside the classroom. It could be assembled on Friday night and taken down on Sunday.”

  “George will have a canary,” said Ashley. “How are you going to do that?”

  “Lois,” Jane said. “We've already set up a weekend vacation for them. Flying in family from Austin and California.”