“You want to know why I finally spilled the beans and sent you that card. It’s simple; I’m old and tired. I am tired of the group, especially that idiot Luke who just runs off and does whatever he damn well pleases. And, I miss my friend Charles King. You might suspect this by now, but Charles had nothing to do with Hector Fuentes attempted murders of the Morgan family.
“Charles devised to assassinate a sitting President of the United States of America. It took him three years to set the plan into action. In our wildest dreams we would have never considered killing a President, at least not a U.S. President. He was a genius I tell you.”
“If he was so smart, how did Pat Drice stumble upon him?” Gabriel asked.
“That is still a mystery to me. I do know after the assassination, Charles as furious the government just shut their eyes to the murder of President Stephens. He even went so far to call Pat Drice informing him there was more to the assassinations than they realized. I warned him not to poke the bear, but he would just sit back in that chair you are sitting in, and just laugh. That call probably let to Charles taking his own life. I don’t know, but I guess that it did.
“So, a couple of months ago Luke began his crazy talk again about making a strategic move. In idiot child speech, it means that he was bored and was searching for a reason to kill someone.
“So I decided to poke the bear myself. The man that Luke had you searching for in the desert, I used to send out a conspiracy theory that mapped out Charles’s plan. Somehow the idiot rewrote it in a way that barely scratched the surface of what I was trying to say.
“You realize the government has him don’t you?” Gabriel said.
“My dear boy, the government may have an anklebone or some other small body part of him; if they found anything. I had David dispose of him after he wrote the paper.” John laughed.
“So you still haven’t told me why you sent me the birthday card.”
“The conspiracy theory didn’t carry the impact that I wanted it to have. Sure, the President resurrected his little private army from a year earlier, but if I didn’t keep a fire burning on this, both sides would fall back into that silent truce.
“Now Luke would be happy to buy a dirty bomb and place it under the White House. I needed his reign of terror to end, so I kept pushing. I realized that your birthday card would probably end me, but I am at peace with that. Then you go and defy Luke, and kill Simon. I presume it was your work?”
“It was.”
“Well, Hell. I would call that poking the bear pretty hard.” John said smiling.
“I actually had a conversation with Pat Drice earlier today. I told him that Simon had traded his life for Pat’s. He was quite touched.”
That surprised John, “If I may ask; what did you tell him exactly?”
“I told him to go hide, I wasn’t the only assassin in the group’s arsenal.”
John smiled at Gabriel, and asked, “Where do we go from here?”
Gabriel lifted the pistol and fired two shots into Donald Rayburn’s chest. “You stay here; I have a couple of more errands to run.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Early the next morning, Pat received a call from a FBI agent in Houston. The agent asked Pat if he knew someone named Donald Rayburn. He replied yes, and asked why. He was told that a maid had come down this morning and found Mr. Rayburn, and his personal aide, David Yates, murdered in the old man’s study.
They first thought that it might be a home invasion, but soon came upon a large envelope marked, “Private.” It was addressed to Deputy Director Pat Drice, of the Central Intelligence Agency.
Pat asked the FBI agent if anyone had opened the packet and the agent said not to his knowledge. He said the CSI team wanted to fingerprint it, but he thought that he should call him first.
Pat told him that it was of national security, and he wanted the agent to take charge of the envelope personally. He told him that the FBI Director would call the agent within the next fifteen minutes, to reiterate this fact.
He told Collins to meet him at the jet in five minutes and to alert the pilots they were headed to Houston. Three hours later, both Pat and Ron were in a conference room at the federal building in Houston.
Pat requested the FBI forensic team take fingerprints samples, and “touch DNA” testing of the letter and envelope. Once testing was completed, Pat read the letter; then passed it to Agent Collins.
Pat, meet John. John, this is Pat. Below you are going to read a story John shared with me before he went to meet his beloved David. I think the story is interesting, but again my mind has a short shelf live, so by the time you read this I will have probably forgotten everything.
I have also listed a number of people associated with their biblical code-names. Some of these people are followers, some are leaders. As Donald shared, some believe that they are do-gooders. There are others who believe that their stature in business, and political circles, make them superior to you and I.
I don’t know all the players, but I have shared some, who I expect will turn on the others at the first mention of a federal penitentiary. If that phrasing doesn’t work, I suggest the word, treason. Heck that even scared me to write it.
When you read this, I will be on my way to Paradise, or a desert land, or the mountains of Tibet. I may just move back to Vancouver. Who knows, but I want my freedom.
Good hunting, and Pat, thanks for your part in Charles King’s death. You saved me another bullet. Gab.
A week passed and Pat and his team had rounded up a number of the names on Gabriel’s list. Gabriel was correct, several turned on other members of the group, trying to escape a death sentence.
The leader of the group turned out to be Luke Harrison. Harrison was one of the richest men in the world. Currently number three of the Forbes list, Luke had started his electronics company in a basement, and turned it into the world’s largest supplier of military grade firmware. After the deaths of Randal Hargrove and Donald Rayburn, Luke vanished.
The President gave a speech to the country the evening before. He told how a conspiracy theory recently came across his desk, and it seemed so plausible, he ordered the FBI to look into it. The investigation, using this new information, led the authorities to charge a number of well-funded activists with conspiracy upon the United States. It also implicated them in the death of President Stephens.
He added that it yielded evidence, that while not exonerating Airman Douglas Morgan proved that he was an un-willing participant in the assassination. Pat, earlier that day, sat down with the Morgan’s and Lisa Grant at Groom Lake, to discuss what they had uncovered. And that he, and the U.S. Marshal Service, felt strongly that the threats against their lives were contained.
The Morgan family could now put this terrible ordeal behind them. Doug’s parents now knew that Doug was doing what he thought was right. That he, as others, had been tricked into this awful scheme.
Pat spent a few private moments with Reed Morgan. Pat asked Reed if he had plans for the future. If possibly he might want to go back to practicing law. Reed smiled and told Pat that being a Post Master wasn’t such a bad occupation.
It also seemed Lisa might have missed Reed more than she had let on. Pat smiled as he watched them head toward the plane together. He hoped the two might connect with one another for good. They needed each other.
After their visitors left, Pat returned to his own group, huddled, talking about something in the conference room. Pat entered, and asked, “What gives?”
Agent Watts speaking, “Director, we were just talking about how much we enjoyed working together. We are promising to keep it touch. Well, all but Doliver. We can’t get an answer out of him, one way or another.”
“That’s not the entire truth Agent Watts. I told you I was willing to trade numbers with you this very second.” Greg said smiling.
Pat smiled, “All of you are of the opinion that our mission is complete? There are still a couple of conspirators out there to round
up.”
Chance speaking, “Pat, I mean Director. You heard the President; this is now an FBI investigation. And I don’t believe for a minute the CIA is going to keep us on their books. We know squat about the CIA.”
Pat checking his watch, walked over to the television screen, and turned it on. Thirty seconds later, President Ward appeared on the screen.
The President smiled, “Hi Gentlemen; Agent Watts. It is good to get a chance to visit with you. I want to personally thank each of you for all your hard work and dedication to this mission. Our country owes each of you a huge debt of gratitude; even if they can never know the parts you played. I believe we will learn a great deal from this horrible event. I believe we will be a stronger nation because of it.
“Agents Wilson and Lansing, Director Drice told me that your work was exemplary. I can understand why NSA Director Sessions continues to burn up my phone trying to get you two back.
“Agents Collins, Doliver, Waits, and Peters, I now owe you twice over. You are the brightest and best this country has to offer. The military has lost four great heroes, but the CIA still has need of you.
“Agent Watts, Director Lake was correct in stating that you would be a great fit for this team. And Deputy Director Drice, I consider you a true friend. What better friend than one who would lay down his life for a brother. I believe that I have heard that somewhere before.
“A few minutes ago I told CIA Director Lake, and NSA Director Sessions, I was going to write an executive order holding on to each of you for an extended time. My lawyers tell me that I don’t have to write anything. It seems that I am the boss of both of them.
“Agent Collins, Director Drice is going to schedule your team into the farm for some added training in whatever ways you spooks work. I understand that Pat is going to visit the farm himself for a couple of weeks.
“Your team is going to work for me, through the leadership of Director Drice, who will remain in Washington. Agent Collins will remain your team leader. When I call, I expect nothing less than the dedication that you have already shown.
“Lansing and Wilson, I don’t think that you could learn anything at the farm. If I get the two of you anywhere close to the NSA, I fully expect that they would try to kidnap you both. For the time being I would like you to assist the FBI in the roundup of the conspirators.
“Agent Watts, I am going to leave the choice up to you whether you stay, or go. I know Pat has indicated to me that you are as essential, as any other member of the team. Still, I think that we owe you the option. These are a shady looking bunch of men.” the President added, smiling.
“Mr. President, if it is truly my choice, I would like to stay with my team?” Emily replied.
“Then Agent Watts, you will answer only to Director Drice. When the team is called on, your focus will be to keep them safe. I need them mentally ready to go on a moment’s notice. And I want them to have every available government asset to insure their safety. What these men need, they get. Is that understood Agent Watts?”
“Yes, Mr. President; fully understood.”
“OK, well, do any of you have any questions before I sign off?”
To everyone’s surprise, Brad Wilson spoke up. “Mr. President, can we please see the aliens now!”
The President smiled, waited for a second, and then added, “See ya, when I see ya.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Luke Harrison knew there was a high probability his group would one day be discovered. His escape had taken two years to plan and he was confident he would never be found. It took him from continent to continent until he settled in a cabin in the French Alps.
A new face and name, Luke transformed into a reclusive painter who preferred spending his days alone in his quaint villa in French Valley. He had visited the valley years before and decided the pristine surroundings would serve him well. Weather permitting, each morning his housekeeper would serve him hot chocolate on his balcony. He would read whatever American magazines and newspapers he could get his hands on.
No emails, Facebook, Twitter, or Linked In; he had shed this daily grind. He was a billionaire by the age of twenty-eight and had been able to hide away a large portion of his money. He had personally invented the algorithm which allowed him to securely stash his funds in the Bank of Dubai.
A handful of birds flew off his roof and made a fast dash toward the ski slopes. They would soon be fighting for the crumbs of food the skiers dropped while waiting for the lifts. He then heard a faint noise that he hadn’t noticed before. Suddenly, an object flew off his roof and hovered at eye level; less than three feet from his face.
Gabriel could see, from the drone’s forward camera, the exact instant Luke recognized death was upon him. He saw the expletive that formed on Luke’s mouth as the drone exploded into a thousand pieces. The top half of Luke’s body disintegrating, into a sickening mist of pink and red.
The sound of the explosion soon gave way to silence, as the birds stopped singing. It seemed as if the wind even stopped blowing through the aspens. Gabriel listened until the sounds of nature returned. “Killed by a toy; imagine that?”
EPILOGUE
Three months later and the team had settled into to their new assignment. Chance and Kenney had decided to live at Groom Lake. They said that living on base allowed them to save their money, and they didn’t enjoy flying back and forth to Area 51 daily. The rest of the team chose to move in and around Las Vegas.
The twins moved in together so they could buy a larger townhouse just off the strip. Everyone suspected the real reason was to free up more money to fuel their gambling. Doliver was living in Henderson, just a few miles outside Vegas and Collins and his wife were still living on Nellis Air Force Base.
In the three months, Pat Drice and Agent Watts had returned to Groom Lake on several occasions. After Luke Harrison was found murdered, two other conspirators decided to turn themselves in. So far, there were ten who had either died, or were in custody. Pat believed it was winding down.
The team had been on two missions since the President last spoke with them. His first assignment had the team in Bolivia, searching for several children who had been taken captive by a drug lord. Some in the Bolivian government had close ties to the cartel. The Bolivian Prime Minister had asked the American Ambassador for covert support. The team found the children being held in an abandoned coffee farm, with all children safely returned to their families. The Bolivian government was praised for the children’s safe return.
Their second mission involved only the twins. They aided the Secret Service in recovering half a billion dollars in fake currency. The money was being smuggled into the U.S. by a corrupt team of Custom Agents.
The currency was the best example of counterfeit money the Secret Service had ever come across. They were even having trouble recognizing the bills as fakes. The Service came to Wilson and Lancing hoping they could track the transactions; which in turn would lead them to the stash of money.
As before, the team would receive no accolades in recovering the money, with the Secret Service receiving all the credit. And as expected, it never surfaced the culprits were federal agents.
This morning, Ron had called everyone in an hour early; they had a third mission. Director Drice was waiting for them in the command center when they arrived. They went over the plan for the mission, with wheels up the following morning. This mission would take them to the other side of the globe.
-----
Pierre Voight, aka Gabriel Frazier, had spent his last three months reconnecting with his wife Chloe in the town of Esbjerg, Demark. He decided after his meeting with Luke, to forgo additional plastic surgeries, and trust fate. The city of Esbjerg reminded them both of Vancouver; a vibrant city located on the banks of the North Sea.
Chloe, now Christina, painted local landscapes in her spare time and sold them to a small art store for resale. Each day, Gabriel’s past life was turning into vapor. Soon, he hoped, he would be able to forget his pas
t; both of them.
Hopefully, the past would also forget him and he was banking on this being the case. He had helped the government stop the conspirators, with all of them either in prison, or dead. Gabriel Frazier was no longer important in the larger scheme of things.
He held Chloe close as they watched the fire burn down in the fireplace of their small cabin. Denmark’s climate was similar to British Columbia’s and this was starting to feel like home. Twice now, Chloe had asked about the possibility of their having a child. He told her just to give them a few more months and they would discuss it again.
-----
Pat Drice accompanied his team to the C17 cargo plane idling on the Groom Lake tarmac, “Ron, you’ll be base hopping for a while and then you will board a civilian flight into the country. I don’t know how long the trip will take you; probably a couple of days. It's important that your team keep a low profile. They are not going to be happy if they find out the real purpose of your visit. When you collect him, you will need to get the hell out of Dodge.”
Kenny Waits asked, “What about extradition, can’t we just go through the standard channels? This country isn’t exactly on our hot list.”
Pat turned, and looked at Doliver, “Greg, want to give your teammate the answer to that one?”
Greg turning to Kenny, “We are friggin agents of the Central Intelligence Agency! We don’t believe in that extradition crap! We ride in black helicopters, shoot guns that haven’t even been made yet, and live in direct vicinity of at least two aliens. And no, I’m not talking about Lansing and Wilson.”
Kenny smiling, “Roger that!”
Pat laughing, “Not exactly what I had in mind Greg, but it’ll do. I am going to put you on a motivational speaking circuit when you get back.”
As the rear cargo hatch was lifting, Collins called out to Pat. “Hey, forgot to ask; dead, or dead?”
The Iscariot Factor (Half Staff Book 2) Page 18