by Peter Parken
Then, as the cabin itself became engulfed in flames, John made his exit, hiking back up the path towards his car.
Once inside the car, he reclined his seat, and just breathed deeply for a few minutes while staring back at the hypnotic yellow glow.
And he thought he heard a soft voice whispering in his ear.
“Thank you, John.”
Chapter 48
Ron Collens had prepared himself to tell only as much of the story as his stomach would allow.
He’d rushed back from the cabin only to lay awake most of the night. And thought of phoning John Fletcher while he was tossing and turning, but didn’t know why. It certainly wouldn’t have helped him fall asleep. And what could he possibly ask him? Did he really want to know? John hadn’t wanted Ron to see the inevitable happen, but he was also smart enough to know that Ron was tuned in. Ron knew what John was going to do, and John knew it.
Carl and Tom had died grisly deaths. The look in John’s eyes when he left him in the cabin told him there would be no forgiveness, no last minute appeals. He was out for vengeance and nothing was going to stop him. It was odd to think that the only way John felt he could save his own soul was to kill those two pieces of human trash. And kill them in graphic fashion. Quick and painless would not have satisfied John—he wanted them to be horrified and in extreme pain during the last moments of their lives. Retribution.
And Ron wondered how he would have felt if his own wife had been murdered and he knew he only had months to live. And the answer he was getting from himself was that he would probably do exactly what John had done.
Every human being on the planet had the capacity for violence—it all depended on what the circumstances were. Some people were just violent by nature. And then there were others, like John, who were the gentle good guys who’d finally had enough of the bad guys. They simply reached deep within their souls to find their primal instinct. They wanted justice, and were frustrated that the only way to get that was to do it themselves. The ‘system’ was no longer their trusted friend.
Fighting ‘fire with fire’ was the method John had chosen. Violence begot violence—there was no end to the cycle once it started. It was true with wars and it was true with crime.
At that very moment, Ron was sitting in Nate’s office with Nate and Robin. The less the two of them knew, the better. But, at the very least, the three of them together had to deal with the horrible story that John and Ron had extracted from Masterson. That mind-numbing knowledge of what was about to happen around the Lake Michigan area of the United States. It couldn’t be ignored. But would anyone listen? Would anyone believe them?
When he was finished telling his story, Nate and Robin just stared at Ron with shock and disbelief written all over their faces.
Nate broke the silence. “Uh, okay…we now know what this was all about. Water.”
“Yes.”
“You and John did this together.”
“Yes.”
“Where is John now?”
“I don’t know—presume at home.”
Robin jumped in. “How credible is all this?”
Ron folded his arms across his chest. “Very credible, Robin.”
“Well, if you managed to get Masterson to talk and confirm all this, he shouldn’t mind coming forward and making a statement. ‘Blowing the whistle,’ so to speak.”
Ron winced. “No, Robin, we’re going to have to blow the whistle ourselves.”
“Why? Who’s going to believe us? He’s in a high position with the NSA—he’ll be believed because he had personal involvement with this diabolical plot. If he indeed has suddenly found a conscience, we should try to convince him to go all the way.”
Nate poured himself some coffee from the steaming pot on the table. “Robin, you’re thinking and talking like a lawyer, which of course you are. But, I believe Ron is trying to tell us something by not saying anything at all.”
Robin looked from Ron to Nate, and then back to Ron again. “Oh…I see. At least, I think I see. I guess I don’t want to hear anything more about this. That would be best, wouldn’t it, Ron?”
Ron nodded. “Yes, Robin, that would be best.”
Nate stood and started pacing. “We have to do something. This is horrific. And I’m talking about the fake terrorist attack, not the water issue. That’s bad enough, and it’ll cause an international crisis, for sure—but it’s just theft. The other part of the plan is, once again, mass murder, and we have a chance to try to stop it.”
Ron stood as well. He was feeling sick in the pit of his stomach—a combination of what he knew had happened back at the ramshackle old cabin and what he knew was going to happen when the hydrogen cyanide was released. He talked as he paced. “Nate, we have to try to make contact with city officials in Green Bay and Milwaukee. And we need to do it fast. This thing could happen today for all we know.”
Nate rubbed his forehead as he walked over to his computer. He typed a few keys and read what was on the screen. Then he typed again and scanned the image. “Okay, I have the names and phone numbers for the mayors of both cities. I think I should call them myself, right now.”
Nate picked up the phone. Robin stood up and walked over to Nate’s desk—took the phone out of his hand and rested it back in the cradle. Nate looked at her, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m the one who should make the call, Nate—not you, and especially not Ron. If what happened last night is what I think happened, you’re going to bring a firestorm down upon yourselves. It might turn out that this poison gas attack won’t happen at all. There might be a good chance that with Masterson…silenced, they will abandon the operation entirely. And if they evacuate these two cities, a process involving hundreds of thousands of people, you could be charged with malicious mischief. The FBI would be all over you—and we already know that they seem to be in the loop on this whole thing, so they’d love to blame you for salacious allegations.”
“Okay, I understand.”
Robin continued, “And one of the biggest advantages of me making the call is that I’m a lawyer and consequently have more credibility than you. Your name has been all over the news. If it doesn’t happen you’ll be in trouble, and if does happen you’ll also be in trouble. They’ll want to know how you obtained the information, and may even make a case to imply that you were involved. But, with me representing both you and Ron, we have the power of confidentiality in our favor. I don’t have to disclose where I got the information—I’m only doing my citizen’s duty and my duty as an officer of the court, in passing the information along.”
Ron shook his head. “Jesus, all we’re trying to do is save lives here! What a country—it’s amazing that we have to worry about these things when we’re just trying to do the right thing.”
Robin nodded. “Yes, Ron—it is what it is. Sad but true.” She grabbed a sheet of paper off Nate’s desk and pulled a pen out of her vest pocket. Then she started to write.
Nate leaned over the desk to take a look. “What are you doing?”
“Drafting a quickie legal agreement, authorizing me to represent you and Ron privately on the matter of ‘information that has come to your attention.’ I already work for you, of course, but that’s a master/servant relationship within Flying Machines Inc. We need to have an agreement between us within my private practice as just an ordinary lawyer. That will protect you and me with the principle of ‘confidentiality.’”
“God, I’m sure glad I asked you to sit in today.”
Robin smiled. “I have to look out for you boys so you don’t go off half-cocked!” She turned to Ron. “Go out in the hall and grab someone, anyone, to come in here to witness this.”
Ron was back in less than ten seconds, with a young lady in tow. “Guys, this is Jennifer Logan.”
Robin shook her hand. “Sit down, please. I just want you to witness this little agreement. And write down your home address and phone number underneath your signature.”
The
three of them signed and Jennifer witnessed. The agreement was done. After Jennifer left the office, Robin walked around and sat behind Nate’s desk. She scanned the mayoral information for the city of Green Bay that was still open on the screen.
Then she took a deep breath, picked up the phone and dialed. Ron sat next to Nate on the couch. He could tell that Nate was just as tense as he was, wringing his hands together and biting his lips.
“It’s okay, buddy. We’re doing our best to stop this. Nothing more we can do.”
Nate frowned. “I can’t believe that the Black Mamba has led to this—a trail to a possible national tragedy. I wonder if Tom knew what this was leading to. I sure hope I get my hands on that prick one day, Ron.”
Ron patted his knee, and said in a somber tone. “Trust me, Nate, you won’t be able to.”
At that comment, Nate just stared into Ron’s eyes, searching. Ron was sure he caught what his eyes were saying and that was confirmed when Nate nodded his head and whispered, “Okay, I get it.”
Robin was talking. They both concentrated on listening to her side of the conversation.
“I already told you who I am. I’ll repeat—my name is Robin Gilchrist and I’m a practicing lawyer, a member of the Bar in Alexandria, Virginia.”
“Well, does he have his cell phone with him?”
“Can’t you patch me through to him?”
“I’m sure he’ll want to interrupt his golf game to hear what I have to say. It’s an extreme emergency.”
They could tell by the look on her face that Robin was getting frustrated. She impatiently tapped her pen on the desk as she waited to be connected.
“Hello? Mr. Mayor?”
“Good. Thanks for taking my call.”
“I’m sure you’ll want to cancel the rest of your game once you hear what I have to say.”
“Okay, well, my name is Robin Gilchrist and I’m a lawyer down here in Virginia.”
“Yes, the weather here is just fine, thank you.” Robin rolled her eyes. “The reason I’m calling you is that clients of mine have come into some information that was so disturbing that I had to phone you right away.”
“No, I’m not at liberty to identify them. But, you need to know that a terrorist attack is pending and imminent, involving cities and communities bordering the west shore of Lake Michigan. Specifically, your city of Green Bay, and also Milwaukee.”
“Yes, the information I have is solid. The attack will come from across the lake in a form that may resemble a swarm of insects; grasshoppers specifically. But that will be an illusion—in fact they will be nanobots laden with hydrogen cyanide. The cyanide will be released once the western shore is reached, and I don’t think I have to tell you how deadly airborne cyanide will be to the population.”
“No, this isn’t a joke. I’ll give you my phone number here and you can call me back if you wish to verify who I am. You can also look me up in the Virginia Bar registry. I know this sounds crazy, but, trust me, this is a real and imminent threat.”
“Well, I was hoping that you’d begin evacuating the city. If you start immediately there might be just enough time to save some lives.”
“No, I can’t comment on why Homeland Security hasn’t increased the threat level.”
“Mr. Mayor, you can file a complaint against me if you wish. I don’t care. Please, just take what I’m saying seriously. Something terrible is about to happen, and…”
Robin stared at the phone, and then slammed it down in the cradle. “He hung up on me! Unbelievable! He thinks I’m a nutcase!”
Ron poured Robin some coffee and took it over to her. “It does sound kinda nutsy, don’t you think? Flying grasshopper robots loaded with poison? I mean, if we hadn’t gone through the bizarre things we’d gone through, and we were just hearing something like that right out of the blue, what might our reaction be?”
Nate added, “Yes, and remember, you’re not a government official—if it was someone in the government calling, the mayor might have listened more seriously to you.”
As she picked up the phone again to make her second call, she raised her other hand in frustration. “We can’t talk to anyone in the federal government—we tried, didn’t we? Where did that get us? The FBI making us the villains for trying to implicate the NSA! So—who can we possibly call when the government is intent on attacking its own people? Now I can understand the frustrations of all those people who passed along tips and warnings in advance of 911. No one listened to them either.”
She dialed Milwaukee. After a few minutes of similar banter, Robin was looking at another dead phone. “He hung up, too!”
Nate shook his head in disgust and walked behind the desk. He made a few clicks on the keyboard and pointed at the screen.
“Okay, Robin, make your last call. Phone Canada.”
Chapter 49
The last two days had been total escapism for Nate and Shelby. It was the weekend and Shelby was off work, so he’d convinced her to spend most of it in bed with him. Not because he was particularly horny and not because she was either. It was just a comfort. And he needed the comfort. Desperately.
They ate in bed, drank in bed, and made love in bed…and even sometimes on the floor. Sometimes accidentally and sometimes on purpose. They did anything to make themselves forget. Had sex in imaginative ways that under normal circumstances they probably wouldn’t have.
Did some nursey role plays—a fantasy that Nate had harbored in his mind ever since he was a teenager. When he’d suffered the concussion in football, one of his fondest memories from his hospital stay was one particular nurse. She always dressed commando, and every time she bent over, his eyes just caught the lower edge of her ass.
He confessed this fantasy to Shelby, turning beet red in the process. Her reply was, “We can play that game.” And they did. It turned out better than Nate’s fantasy, because even though that nurse was commando, she hadn’t possessed the ass that Shelby did. So, his fantasy changed forever—now it would always be Shelby in the highlight reel. And being a nurse in real life, the role play was an easy one for her. She made the fantasy real.
But there was a price to pay. Nate had to act out, too—and in Shelby’s fantasy, he had to be a masseur with wandering hands. This was an easy one for him to play-act, because his hands wandered all over her body at the best of times. But…he had to be sincere, act it out in a real way. This was the part he found difficult—because he talked too much. Lying seductively on her stomach, she turned around in frustration and told him to shut up. “I don’t want you to have a conversation with me, I just want you to fuck me. It ruins the fantasy if I hear your voice, because I know your voice. So, shut up and seduce me!”
They had lots of laughs during their two days in bed. And lots of real conversations, too, which was what he loved about Shelby. She was easy to talk to about the fluff stuff, but also intelligent enough to engage in the heavy stuff, too. Lots of debates about world issues, the climate, where to go on vacation, how many kids they were going to have, where they would live…and whether they even wanted to work anymore.
They tried talking about virtually everything except what they’d gone through the past few weeks. Nate told her how Robin had tried to warn city officials in Milwaukee and Green Bay, but that she’d been ignored. And he told her that Robin had also phoned the Canadian government’s ministry of natural resources and told them the whole story. They’d received a better reaction from Canada. Two follow-up phone conversations later and they were satisfied that at least someone was listening to them.
But…the most important warning, the one to the two cities in the state of Wisconsin, had been basically laughed at. Which meant people were going to die if Operation Backwash was executed.
Nate and Shelby decided before the weekend started that they just didn’t want to know—that they preferred to be in denial for two days; be silly and carefree for forty-eight glorious hours.
But the end of the weekend was near—it was Su
nday night and they were still in bed, trays of leftover food beside them on the night table, a half-finished bottle of wine on the floor.
Shelby gently rubbed his arm. “We should just travel. See the world before it all dries up.”
Nate grimaced. “It does make you think, doesn’t it? If things are so severe now that cause our own country to steal water from our friendliest ally, what’s next?”
“I don’t think the world has much time left, Nate. Well, maybe the world does, but I don’t think the human race does.”
Nate shook his head. “Not if things continue the way they’re heading. And, nature might not do it to us—we might just wipe ourselves out. I mean, how insane is it to think of a country attacking itself—not it’s enemies—but itself. Killing its own people just to get support for its twisted agenda. It’s sick, absolutely sick. What chance does the human race have if that’s something governments can get away with?”
Shelby gently stroked Nate’s penis. “Maybe we could do this ‘escaping from reality’ thing for the rest of our lives? I mean, what a shame if we just worked and worked and then it all came to a shocking end. Life’s too precious—John Fletcher is sure aware of that.”
“Well, I have enough money. We could do that. I could just leave the company in Ron’s good hands, while you and I roam. I’d still retain my share ownership in the company, and collect my share of the profits, but I wouldn’t need to be here. We could just enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Before it’s all gone.”
She stroked Nate’s penis faster. “I’d love to be your roaming partner. And I have money, too, so I’d pay my way.”
Nate grinned at her. “The only thing you have to do to pay your way is to just do more of what you’re doing right now!”
Shelby stopped stroking. She brought her hand up from his penis and shoved him out of bed onto the floor. “You’re a pig, Nathan Morrell!”
Nate lay on the floor, laughing. “I thought I’d just lighten the mood a little.”