by Peter Parken
John brought his knee up hard into the man’s balls, causing him to scream out in agony. Then he grabbed him around the throat and pressed hard against his Adam’s apple. The man choked and gasped for air.
John released his hands from his throat and then pounded them inward against his ears. The bald-headed tattooed killer screamed in agony as his eardrums burst. John then brought his face to within inches of the killer’s. “You blew up my house, didn’t you? You killed my wife, didn’t you?”
Not waiting for an answer, John reared back and then rammed forward, head-butting the man. Then he brought his face up close again—he was staring now into the killer’s dazed eyes. “You’re the one who’s going to die tonight. Let’s not let that noose go to waste, huh?”
John dragged the dazed man up onto the stool and held him erect. He wasn’t reacting to anything. John didn’t care. He slipped the noose over his head and positioned the knot to the back and slightly to the side of his neck. Then he slid the knot tight.
John Fletcher, chief investigator with the NTSB, was a man who had always gone along—had always done everyone else’s bidding just to stay on the safe side. Had always done his best to do all the right things, had ignored the lies of TWA 800, and had ignored the lies of the Black Mamba accident.
And John Fletcher had caused the murder of the sweetest person he had ever known.
Yes, all those things were true. John knew it and there was nothing he could do to change the past.
But this he could do.
He stood back and admired the sight of his hostage slumped and barely standing on the stool, noose fastened tightly around his neck.
He gave the stool a football kick, sending it flying across the room. Then he just watched impassively as the killer twisted, choked, lurched and gasped in the damp air of the dingy basement. In less than a minute, there was silence. A deathly silence.
John turned his head and stole a quick glance at the other guy, still half standing against the wall with a spade through his stomach.
And the only semi-rational thought that popped into his head was that the spade would come in handy later on in the backyard under the cover of darkness.
Chapter 41
Nate was keeping a close watch over Shelby. The trauma from what had happened up in the sky was still with her, but she’d gotten progressively better the last couple of days. After their near-death experience, she had been afraid to go back to her own house alone so Nate went with her—then he suggested she just pack a bag and stay at his house. She jumped at the offer. They both felt better—it was far safer.
So now they were roommates—Nate made up a room for her in the older wing and he continued to sleep in his familiar room in the newer section. Tonight he had done steaks on the barbecue along with a nice selection of vegetables. He was a good cook—Shelby was surprised. Well, at least on the barbecue he was good—a guy thing, for sure. He never spent much time in the actual kitchen of the house and, with the beautiful year-round weather in Virginia, there weren’t many days when he couldn’t barbecue.
They were stretched out on the double chaise lounge in his backyard, relaxing with a bottle of wine after the generous meal. His yard was very private—a wall of trees and bushes all around the property, so thick that not even one brick of the houses on either side of him could be seen. It was a private little oasis and he loved it. Loved the seclusion and found that it was a great way to relax, especially lately with all that had been going on. And he loved looking at the water shimmering in his small kidney-shaped swimming pool. The subtle blue lights along the edge added a magical quality to his little piece of paradise.
It was already dark and the solar lights had come on, painting a soft romantic hue around the yard. He turned his head and glanced at her—she was gazing up at the stars with a pensive look in her eyes. Her beautiful blue orbs twinkled, even more seductively than the stars.
As he looked at her, drinking in her beauty, he marvelled at how strong she was. And how skilled. The stunt she’d pulled when they were thousands of feet in the air was nothing short of amazing. What bravery! She’d referred to him as being brave after he’d saved her from the rollercoaster superstructure, but that was nothing compared to what she had done. Her precision dive, which Nate figured was tough enough solo let alone tandem, was breathtaking. He could still feel the incredible speed—the way his cheeks were shoved back and felt like they were fluttering, the tingling in his legs and hands as he saw the ground rushing up at them, his heart pressing into his chest. It was exhilarating while at the same time scary as hell.
And then, the way she adjusted their heads and bodies to slow their descent at just the right time—knowing she wouldn’t have a second chance. There was only one shot at halting their rapid drop, and she pulled it off—positioned them right beside Brenda, who by that time had probably given up all hope.
Shelby had been like an angel from heaven.
And now she knew that someone had tried to kill her—that it was her parachutes they thought they’d sabotaged. What a terrible thought to be occupying her brain. Two near death experiences—one on a rollercoaster and another one in the sky—anybody would be in shock after such back-to-back horrors. And then to find out that someone had tried to kill her; in fact, both times someone had tried to kill her. The first time she was just collateral damage, but this second time she was the actual target.
Nate reached over, held onto her hand and squeezed it gently.
She turned her head towards him and smiled lazily. “That was a lovely meal, Nate.”
“A lovely meal for a lovely lady.”
“Aww…that’s a sweet thing to say. You are a sweet man, you know that?”
“It’s easy to be sweet with you. And what a hellcat you are! I still can’t believe your daring and poise up there in the wild blue yonder. You have my extreme admiration, dear lady. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life—hell, I actually experienced it right along with you, except that I didn’t have a clue what to do. I just followed your lead.”
“And you followed it very well indeed, dear sir.”
Nate winced. “But my neck still hurts a bit with how you pushed it down so roughly when you started your daredevil dive.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, just to help illustrate his whining.
“Oh, you are a big baby, aren’t you? Let me fix that for you.” She gently eased him over until he was lying on his stomach. Then she pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, dropping it on the ground beside the chaise.
Shelby straddled his back and her fingers went to work. Nate was amazed at how strong they were. For such a wisp of a woman, she had strengths that a person wouldn’t notice at first glance—both mentally and physically.
He hadn’t actually been faking it with the neck—it had been a bit sore ever since the skydive, but he knew that could also be stress. Regardless, he was feeling the tension release with every squeeze of her fingers.
Suddenly, he felt a wetness on the back of his neck where her fingers had been. A tongue had replaced the fingers and it was swirling around in circles—he could actually see the circles in his mind that she was drawing on his neck. He concentrated on that as she made the circles larger and larger. The effect was so relaxing that he could feel himself slipping away.
Then she moved back, slowly—actually more like a slide. He could feel her hands pulling down gently on his shorts, then heard the sound of the material making contact with the paving stones.
Her tongue was curling up his ass now, just slightly between the cheeks. He moaned softly as the wetness of it and the swirling movement stirred his senses. Her hand slipped underneath and Nate arched his back to give her easy access. Her fingers found his penis and began stroking it.
Nate couldn’t take it any more—once she touched his penis that was his cue. He rolled over underneath her and arched his back again, raising his penis up towards her mouth. He saw that she was already naked—how had sh
e done that? He figured he must have actually dozed off for a minute or two and didn’t realize it.
She shook her head, rejecting his penis, and just crawled forward on his chest. Then she leaned down and kissed his mouth hard, pressing her tongue through his lips. They parted eagerly and their two tongues met—swirling, seeking, searching for something.
He raised his crotch up and found her, entering her easily. Her wetness was intoxicating to him and he surged upward with gentle thrusts. She moved easily with his rhythm and they were one. Her tongue continued to swirl—he was amazed at the magical moves it could make. The passion he felt for her was racing through every inch of his body and the heat they were generating in the eighty degree nighttime temperature was extreme.
He felt the sweat on her body and he knew that she could feel his. Nate had his hands on her bum and was pulling her in motion as his thrusts sped up. She moaned, and whispered, “Not yet.”
Nate didn’t want it to be ‘yet’ either, but he was finding it hard to hold back. And the heat between the two of them was becoming unbearable. He had to cool it down.
He eased up into a sitting position without missing a beat. Shifted sideways and rested his feet on the ground, their tongues still swirling furiously together. Then he rose to a standing position, taking her with him. He staggered over to the side of the pool, his hands holding firmly onto her bum, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Joined together as one, Nate stepped over the edge into the cool soothing water.
The relief was instantaneous, and their movements became even more furious. Being immersed in water, the ease of their thrusts was even more pronounced. Nate spun her around and leaned her back against the pool liner. He put one hand behind her head to protect it and the other one on her bum. He pulled up hard and then moved himself in and out with quick, sharp movements. She gasped, grabbed onto his hair and pulled his head back. He looked into her eyes and could see that she’d just experienced what she’d begged him to wait for. Only then did he allow himself the same. An exhilarating moment that came as a huge relief.
*****
Both of them were spent, back on the chaise lounge dozing peacefully together under a fleece blanket.
Then the phone rang.
Nate jerked awake and reached down to the patio, feeling around blindly for his phone. He found it underneath the chaise, picked it up and clicked ‘talk.’
“Yes?”
“Hi Nate. It’s John Fletcher.”
“Oh, John, how are you?”
“Not good. I need to see you.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, I don’t want to say anything over the phone. Can I come over?”
“Well…sure, John. If it’s that important you better get over here. You have my address here in Old Town. We’ll wait up for you.”
Nate clicked off. Still partly in dreamland, Shelby looked up at him with a question in her eyes.
“We’d better get dressed. John’s gonna pay us a visit.”
Shelby sat up and pulled the fleece blanket around her. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“He didn’t want to say, but the tone of his voice was strange, distant. Something’s happened.”
Chapter 42
Carl picked up the phone on the first ring. He was hoping—praying—that it was his two men reporting back to him on those special assignments he’s sanctioned. The two weeks were up and he was worried. Carl should have heard something by now. He’d made it clear that he wanted them dead within the two weeks. Every day he’d been scouring the online death notices and logs from morgues. Nothing yet.
But, no, it wasn’t the call he’d been hoping for. It was General Tetford from the Pentagon.
“Masterson, are those loose ends tied up yet?”
“I’m still waiting to hear, sir.”
“Let me know as soon as you know.”
“I will.”
“The reason I’m calling is that I’ve just received some new estimates from the Army Corps. of Engineers. They tell me that the water level drop in Lake Erie is going to be far more severe and noticeable than your team predicted. It won’t be easily explained as just being a result of hot dry weather. No one will buy that.”
“What are their estimates, General?”
“About twelve inches over the first seven days.”
Carl tapped on his keyboard and pulled up the draft of an encrypted email. “General, I sent you a message yesterday with some updates on Operation Backwash, including a contingency item we added. Did you get it?”
“I haven’t had time to read emails, Masterson. Just tell me.”
“Well, to give us some flexibility of controlling the water flow from Lake Erie through our tunnel, we’re adding a hatch that will be installed at the opening. We’re building a steel superstructure around the mouth of the tunnel, secured in the bedrock. The hatch will have the capability of being radio-frequency controlled. We’ll be able to open and close it at our discretion.”
Tetford let out a deep breath. “Okay, I like that. We can let it surge and allow the water level to drop. And if there are eyebrows raised by the Canadians and they start monitoring it closely, we can close the hatch and let the scrutiny cool off a bit. Then let it surge again—it’ll probably drive them crazy, but at least we’ll be in control.”
“Exactly. But, General, we can’t fool them forever. We’ll just have to deal with it when they do figure it out.”
“Yes, I agree. But, they might discover the tunnel early if they use submersibles.”
“The Canadians already have unmanned submersibles operating in the Great Lakes. But so do we. We’ll put extra patrols around the tunnel opening and make sure that no Canadian submersibles get close. But we’re also going to be using ‘cloaking’ technology. I put that in the email to you as well. Holographic signals will be emitted down the tunnel, conducting along the metal of the pipe, recreating the image of a solid bank. As long as the technology doesn’t fail us, the tunnel won’t be visible. If their submersibles take photos of the bank below the surface of the water, it will appear as a normal solid bank of the lake. But what they’ll be photographing will be a hologram.”
“Okay, well, you’ve built in some good contingencies. I like this stuff. Good—I feel better. And when the Canadians eventually do catch on, we’ve got some economic weapons at our disposal. We can threaten to tear up the NAFTA treaty, causing crushing trade deficits for them. We’re their biggest trading partner—they’ll suffer more than we will. And we can level all sorts of accusations at them about how lax their border security is, allowing terrorists to launch an attack against us from Canadian soil. And, of course, we’ll have our troops surrounding our side of the Great Lakes. If they want to make a serious issue of us stealing their water, we can get tough.”
“On that point, can our theft of water be termed as a trigger for their allied agreements with countries like Great Britain? Would the Brits be obligated to help defend Canada against such an act? In other words, is it an ‘act of war’?”
“No. Allied agreements require a country to be actually attacked. We’re not attacking, we’re merely stealing—and the theft is occurring from our side of the lake, through our bank of the lake. So, they wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if they went whining to the Queen.”
“Okay, we’re on solid ground.”
“Now, Masterson, are we on track for the terrorist attack?”
“Yes, we’ve planted all the information about the Muslim cell operating out of Toronto. We’ve created and planted ‘chatter’ about a planned attack. We know the RCMP has already picked up on this and have launched a quiet investigation. The grasshopper nanobots are finished and ready to be launched from the Canadian side of the border. They’re all laced with hydrogen cyanide. We just have to give the word and they’ll be in the air.”
“They’ll be seen.”
“Yes, but we’ve planted stories over the last few weeks about grasshopper swarms throughout the U.S. The insect
populations are high this year—even the Weather Network forecast a large storm system coming in, but it turned out to be just a grasshopper swarm. So, people are inclined to believe that these things are common now. There won’t be any adverse reaction to our swarm. It’ll just be seen as normal with the times.”
“Alright. I’ll wait for your next update. And after I read that email you sent me, I’ll probably share it with a few others here as well.”
*****
Nate ushered John into the living room. Shelby was enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and she jumped up and gave John a big hug. John hugged her back and flashed her a big smile. But that smile disappeared fast.
“John, can I get you something to drink?”
He took a seat in a wing chair opposite the couch. “No, Nate, I’m fine.” Nate sat on the couch beside Shelby. If John was surprised to see Shelby at Nate’s house, he didn’t show it. But what was showing was a big welt on his forehead.
They both waited patiently for him to say what was on his mind. He definitely sounded troubled about something.
Then he sighed and let it out. “Two men were waiting for me when I got home last night. They had a noose hooked up to my basement ceiling—intended to make my death look like a suicide.”
Shelby put her hands to her mouth and gasped.
“As you can see, they didn’t succeed. I killed them. First time I’ve ever killed anyone. And it doesn’t even bother me all that much. It was kill or be killed.”
Nate swallowed hard. “Did you…phone the police?”
John shook his head slowly. “I buried them in my backyard. The…way I killed them…would be hard to explain. It was too extreme to claim self-defence.”
Shelby still had her hands over her mouth when she asked John a muffled question. “How did you…kill them?”
“I don’t want to tell you. Let’s just leave that alone, okay?”
“Okay.”
“There was no identification on their bodies. No cellphones. Nothing. No car keys either—so they must have been extra careful and just had a car drop them off. I’m convinced these were the two guys who blew up my house. I asked one of them—he didn’t answer me.”