The Hidden Society

by R. Chauncey

  *

  Lawrence Ames controlled the soldiers of the Society, but leaders didn’t have to come to him to request the assistance of a soldier. And no member ever requested the assistance of a soldier unless they wanted someone killed. Lawrence had made it a point to know the soldiers, females as well as males that he controlled, and he thought of Karl Winters as a vicious animal without a shred of manners masquerading as human, and doing a piss poor job of it, too. His face showed his disapproval of Karl when Karl walked into his office in the first basement at six in the morning.

  “I’m not in the habit of meeting people at six in the morning,” he complained with a long, angry face. “Especially Society soldiers.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you’re in the habit of doing, Lawrence,” Karl said as he stood at the open door of Lawrence’s underground office which was in the first basement. He knew of Lawrence’s opinion about him because a few of the soldiers had told him and he didn’t give a damn. “I want access to an office, computer, and anything, else I want with no interference from you. I also want rooms for myself and three other soldiers. You got a problem with that call Derrick Franks.”

  “Mr. Franks has already informed me that I was to allow you to use our computers and other equipment without interference,” Lawrence said. “Your office is the fourth one to the right down the hall.”

  “Good,” Karl said, turning to leave.

  “You do know how to use a computer, don’t you?” Lawrence asked him. The question was meant to insult him.

  “Fuck you,” was Karl’s response and he left.

  Lawrence was typical of the Society’s members. He was spoiled, rich and had been born to his position like all the other members. Everything had been given to him on a gold platter. The best education money could buy in the best schools, and a guaranteed business position to hide the wealth he’d inherited through blood. Like all the other members he hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve what he had, and he acted as if he was doing the Society a favor by taking everything that birth had given him. Even his wife had been checked out by the soldiers and approved of by the members of the Council of Twenty before he told her what she’d be marrying into. Her acceptance of his proposal prevented her death. The fact that Lawrence was still married after twenty years proved his wife understood that death followed immediately upon the filing of a divorce petition. Like the wives of many members Mrs. Ames, after giving birth to a daughter and a son, enjoyed the benefits of being married to a member. A few of the members were even loved by their spouses.

  Karl despised him and all the other members. He considered them to be worthless shit. The only reason why he didn’t kill any of them was like them he’d been born to his position. But unlike them, he’d proven his loyalty to the Society by killing for the Society. He also liked the two million dollars a year he earned as a soldier. Plus the half million dollar kill bonuses and paid expenses he’d received for the sixteen people he’d killed for the Society over the last twenty years. He also liked the fact that he didn’t have to go to an office every day or punch a time card. Like all the soldiers of the Society he was on his own until there was a need for his services then he would answer the call without question and do as ordered.

  He walked to the office, entered, closed the door, sat behind the desk, and turned on the computer. “Computer,” he said, using the verbal control. “Are those soldiers on their way here?”

  ‘Yes,’ the computer responded verbally.

  “When will they arrive?”

  ‘At noon.’

  “Good. Make sure they have rooms here when they arrive at noon,” he said.

  ‘Okay.’

  “I want four credit cards, no cash limits for myself and the other three, taken from our most reliable banks, and a list of our best hand held weapons. All electric weapons no projectile firing weapons, and our best electrical tracking equipment. Have it all ready by noon.”

  ‘Will do.’

  “Contact me by phone in my quarters at exactly eleven a.m.,” he said, standing up.

  ‘Will do.’

  He walked out of the office thinking breakfast, a hot bath and shave, and a few hours of sleep was just what he needed.

  *

  12 p.m.

  Willow John was of average height with permanently tanned skin and a head of thick brown hair that looked like an oversize cap on his thin body. He sat on a couch next to Dodge Harris who was black - the Society had never been prejudice because it interfered with making money, and as average looking as Karl and Willow. He kept his hair cut short to distract from the permanently thoughtful expression on his face, and like Willow and Karl he was in his mid-fifties with years of killing experience behind him. Beautiful Betty Turner sat next to him. Wearing high heels and a short skirt to hide her five feet three height and show her lovely tanned legs. The matching jacket she wore fit her loosely to hide her large breasts. She kept her black curly hair cut short. She, even in her late fifties, was proof that having black, Hispanic, and white ancestors had its advantages. Betty was the best killer among them and intelligent with over a dozen kills on her record. Like Willow and Dodge she was in excellent physical condition and trained and experienced in hand to hand killing.

  They were sitting in the office they were to use waiting for Karl.

  “We got a tough job to do,” Karl said, walking into the office and sitting down behind his desk. Good afternoon, how are you, long time no see were useless expressions for Karl, and for them to. When on a job, soldiers never did or said anything that might reveal they were also human. And no soldier ever talked about his private life, because when on a job they had no private lives.

  “What is it?” Dodge asked in a pleasant tenor’s voice. He liked singing in church choirs, but he didn’t belong to any church. So he sang to himself on Sunday in his home study.

  “Julian Franks, one of our former leaders, gathered a lot of information about the Society and its history while he was a leader. After he gave up his position as a leader he lived a normal life until he disappeared a little over a month ago. He gave that information to someone,” Karl said.

  “And our job is to get the information back,” Betty said.

  “Yes. And we don’t have much to go on,” Karl said.

  “What have we got?” Willow asked.

  “Got you com-cells?” Karl asked them, taking his out of his pants pocket.

  Willow and Dodge took theirs out of their pants pockets. Betty took hers out of an expensive black purse. It matched her outfit.

  “Read what we’ve got so far,” Karl said as he downloaded what was on his com-cell to theirs.

  Ten minutes later Willow said, “This is nothing.”

  “Exactly,” Karl agreed.

  “Does this place still exist?” Betty asked.

  “No. The house has been removed, trees put in place. The place looks like it originally looked. An uninhabited forest in northwestern Illinois.”

  “What about maps?” Willow asked.

  “Those on paper don’t even show the road. It’s too small for state and national maps, but it does appear on state computers. As for county maps of the area, the road appears on them, but they don’t show the existence of any house.” He turned to the computer on the desk extension and said, “Computer change all computer maps of Bay Route in northwestern Illinois to show only a forest two miles east on the route.”

  ‘Will do.’

  “Okay, all the world’s computer maps of this area in northwestern Illinois have been changed,” Betty said. “What about the maps in libraries, schools, universities, and colleges?”

  “Who gives a damn about them?” Willow ans
wered. “Since the house never existed.”

  “How did Julian Franks manage to disappear for a month?” Dodge asked. “Even as a former leader his whereabouts should have been known.”

  Karl looked at him as if he should have thought of that question, and then asked it of

  Derrick. He wondered if Dodge knew about the chip implants. Dodge was a very intelligent man. He was a thinker who usually arrived at the correct answers to others’ questions.

  “Members are seldom in visual contact with each other,” Betty said.

  “But they are within com-cell contact with each other as well as us soldiers,” Willow said. “He should have been missed by the members within a few days at the most.”

  “I have no answer for that,” Karl said, thinking, Derrick has I bet. “Our job is to find out who Julian gave the information to, and get it back.”

  “And kill him or her?” Willow asked Karl.

  “Yes. And leave no evidence that we did it. Whether a body is found or not is not our concern.”

  “How did Julian Franks contact this unknown person?” Dodge asked, looking at his com-cell.

  The three others looked at him and said nothing.

  Dodge looked up and looked at each of them. “Even Julian Franks’ com-cell was monitored now and then by a member of the Council of Twenty or a leader, wasn’t it?”

  No one answered yes.

  “Members and soldiers may seldom have visual contact with each other, but at least every three days a member or soldier is required to report their whereabouts to either a council member or a leader,” Dodge said.

  This rule had been adopted by the Society after the development of cell phones when members and soldiers were scattered over the world handling their private businesses which were fronts for their participation in the Society’s secret world-wide businesses.

  “Yeah,” Willow said. “So how did Julian contact this person? Where did he get the person’s name and address from?”

  Karl looked at Willow and Betty for an answer.

  Neither said anything.

  “I don’t know,” Karl finally said.

  “Well, you had better find out,” Betty said, crossing her lovely legs. “Because if you don’t, we’re going to be looking for someone who doesn’t exist as far as the Society is concerned.”

  “USPS,” Dodge said as he looked back of his com-cell.

  “What?” Karl asked him.

  “The com-cell numbers of all members and soldiers are probably listed on the computers here since this is the Society’s main headquarters. Tell your computer to check on all communications over Julian’s com-cell,” Dodge told Karl. “You probably won’t find any.”

  Karl did as he said.

  The computer listed forty-four e-mails and cell calls Julian had made in the last two months.

  Karl projected the list on the mirror behind his desk. “Computer, put next to the e-mails and cell calls Julian Franks made the relationship of the receivers to the Society.”

  The computer did so within a few seconds.

  “All were made to members of the Society,” Willow said.

  “Julian contacted this person he gave the information to by the United States Postal Service,” Dodge said. “And the Society can’t monitor the Postal Service because the Postal Service deals with letters. And considering Julian’s former position as a leader, it wouldn’t have taken him very long to gather the history of the Society and information about it. That could have been done in less than half an hour.”

  “Which means it wouldn’t have been necessary for him to disappear for over a month,” Willow said.

  Karl looked at the three of them, and realized Derrick had lied to him.

  “Knowing the Society as he did,” Dodge said. “Two days would have been more than enough time for him to do what he wanted.”

  “How could he have disappeared for over a month?” Betty said. “He would have certainly been contacted by a member over his com-cell during that time.”

  No one said anything.

  Dodge was looking at the information about Julian on his com-cell. “Julian’s com-cell wasn’t found on his body, was it?” he said.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Karl said.

  “So where was it?” Dodge asked.

  “That’s not important,” Willow said.

  “Yes, it is,” Dodge disagreed. “Because if it wasn’t on his body then it was some place where he could use it to make sure if he was contacted by a member through his com-cell he’d know about it immediately and be able to respond.”

  “What are you getting at?” Willow asked him.

  Dodge looked at them all for a few seconds as he gathered his thoughts then explained. “If Julian disappeared over a month ago, he knew his disappearance would have been noted within a week at the latest and an immediate search for him would have begun. So what he probably did was put his com-cell some place where he’d be notified if a member contacted him. That way no one would know he wasn’t where his com-cell said he was. Like Betty said members seldom and even soldiers seldom have visual contact with each other.”

  “But some member would have noticed the com-cell didn’t move,” Willow said.

  “Not if it was programed to give the caller a false location,” Betty said.

  Karl nodded. His face was a blank to conceal his anger.

  “He’d probably been planning to do what he’s done for years,” Dodge said.

  “So,” Karl began. “We’re going to have to look into Julian’s past to find out exactly who he contacted.”

  “Which means we should start with his front business,” Dodge said.

  The Society had always kept accurate records on all its members’ front businesses to guarantee those businesses didn’t not conflict with the Society’s businesses. The Society didn’t like losing money because a member’s front business was in competition with its interests. Those members who had done that in the past and didn’t stop were murdered on orders from the Council of Twenty with the support of the three leaders. They were always killed in an accident.

  “What business was Julian Franks in, computer?” Karl asked. “List his heirs in case of death.”

  The computer immediately put the business up on the mirror.

  “Hardware stories,” Willow asked in disbelief.

  “Sixty-four in the northeast,” Karl said.

  “Good business,” Betty said. “They carry a lot of products home supply stores don’t carry.”

  “Who inherits his business?” Dodge asked.

  “A relative. A fourth cousin who is not a member or soldier,” Karl said, reading from the information on the mirror.

  “Let’s make the assumption Julian may have had some outside help,” Willow said.

  Karl agreed. “You get a list of all his stores employees check out each one, Willow.

  Dodge you help. Betty, you find out everything Julian’s done over the last ten years including his activities within the Society.”

  “And,” she added as she stood up. “Who he associated with outside the Society.”

  “Eh, one other thing,” Dodge added, raising his left hand like a boy in school.

  “What?” Karl asked, looking at him.

  “That house Julian used in Northwestern Illinois,” Dodge said.

  “What about it?” Willow asked, looking at Dodge.

  “How long do you think it would have taken him to build it? And keep its presence secret from the Illinois authorities in that part of Illinois?”

 
“It was just four walls. Combination of kitchen and dining room, and a bedroom and separate bathroom,” Karl said. “It was a prefabricated house made of excellent materials. I doubt if he was there more than twenty-four hours.”

  “Which means whoever he contacted, he was pretty sure the person would meet with him. Someone he would have done research on. Someone he could depend upon to act the way he wanted them to act,” Dodge said. “Once this person was convinced Julian’s information was accurate.”

  “Good point, Dodge,” Karl said thoughtfully. “Get to your assignments.”

  Willow and Dodge stood up.

  “You all have been provided with rooms here in headquarters,” Karl said.

  Lawrence Ames didn’t like the idea of Karl and his three thugs, as he referred to them, living in the headquarters’ apartments, but there was little he could about it. So he made rooms available to them in the second basement, and saw to it they would get everything they needed.

  *

  Derrick’s special contact had booked a suite at the Ames Ranch and Hotel ten minutes after Karl had left Derrick’s house and made arrangements to go to the Society‘s headquarters. The booking was of course in a fake name that would be hard to check out. Karl didn’t know it, but while Derrick had let him turn off his tracker implant, the flash drive he’d given him contained a tiny transmitter. Everything Karl did or said he would know about it. His special contact didn’t know about the transmitter. Derrick didn’t like letting anyone he worked with know everything he was doing. It gave him a feeling of freedom and control that no member or soldier knew about.

  ***

  Chapter 8

  Sunday 8 a. m. January 5

  Larson had thought of booking a compartment on the Chicago to Westport, Kansas Amtrak train. But he decided against it. Compartments were logged into a computer. He didn’t realize until he was in his seat that so were regular passenger seats. The only way to keep his trip to Westport secret would have been to drive. But only a fool would do that in the winter with two snow storms coming out of the west with a reported twelve more inches of snow for the west, Midwest, and east. In addition to the twelve inches that were already on the ground. He just hoped when he got to Westport he could find a room in the small hotel he had found listed in the information section about the town.