Lost in the Maze

by Gary William Ramsey

  He strained to roll the body over the edge of the drop off, but had difficulty. Grabbing the shovel and using it as a prying tool, he was able to move it over the drop off. The body in the cardboard coffin rolled to the bottom and lodged between several large black plastic bags.

  Russ got back into his truck and drove away. When he entered the main highway, he snacked on the cold Chicken Fries and finished his Diet Coke.

  Just as he turned down the road to his house, his cell phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Russ, sorry to call you so late. This is Gerry Stewart, FBI. Director Stancil has instructed me to pick up Lisa Roberts and take her to a safe house in Texas. Is she okay?”

  “Yes Gerry, She’s at my home asleep. I’ll be home in a few minutes. What’s your estimated arrival time?”

  “I’m boarding a plane in Houston. I’ll land in about two hours in New York and drive from Tetterboro. Give me your address so I can enter it in my GPS.”

  Russ gave him the address. “When I picked her up she was in a state of shock. She’s calmer now and after eating, she went to sleep. She can’t stand much more chaos.”

  “Russ, does she know that her mother is dead and her father is presumed dead, even thought we don’t have a body?”

  “No Sir, I don’t think she can handle that right now.”

  “Okay, see you in a few hours.”

  Russ Brennan pulled his truck in front of his house and went in. Lisa and Joe were still sleeping peacefully on the couch. He locked the doors and activated his alarm system.

  When Russ collapsed on his worn recliner, he realized that he was exhausted. He closed his eyes and immediately went to sleep.

  Chapter 38

  After the Select Committee meeting, the Controller strolled back to his office. He had work to do now knowing that there was another undercover agent in the organization. He felt confident that the interloper was in the Russian Mafia group. He hated those damn Russians, but he needed their financial support, and he used them as assassins. As soon as he had control of the country, he would deal with them. One problem was that he feared that Nevsky knew his identity.

  The Controller wanted to call his contact in the Mafia, but didn’t dare call from his office. He labored on paperwork until time to stop for the evening.

  When he left the building, his personal driver was waiting on him, and dropped him off at his Condo. He proceeded to the bedroom closet and opened the safe.

  He picked up one of the four throw away phones that were left, grabbed a business card, closed the safe, replaced the carpet, and replaced the shoe rack on top.

  The Controller walked back to the living area to the bar and poured two fingers of Gentleman Jack in a crystal glass. He drained the glass and walked to the couch. Staring at the card for a few minutes, he then punched in the number. The name on the card was Maxin Nevsky.

  There was a click on the other end and silence. “Code 4936, code word Fight,” he said.

  “Why are you calling here?” Nevsky asked.

  “I found out today that there is another undercover FBI Agent in the organization. You check your end and I’ll check mine. We are too close to the endgame to get screwed up now.”

  “I’ll make a couple of calls and ring you within the hour on this phone,” Nevsky said, and hung up.

  The Controller had allowed his number to be picked up on caller id. The phone would be destroyed before the evening was over.

  He immediately punched in another number from memory.

  Aalim Mohammad Alam picked up on the first ring. “Code 5674 Code Word Fiat,” the Controller said.

  “My Leader, what can I do for you?” Aalim’s voice indicated surprise at the call.

  “My Son, I have been informed that another FBI undercover agent has penetrated our group. I think the person is with the Russian partners, but we must be sure that your cell members are not traitors.”

  “Sir, I have carefully chosen each one and I can assure you they are true to Allah and me. They desire to purge the world of Infidels. I would trust my life to any one of them.”

  “Just observe their actions and call me with any suspicions.”

  “I will carefully observe them,” Aalim replied.

  Hanging up, the Controller prepared another Gentleman Jack, picked up the Quran and began reading.

  Quran 2:191 “And slay them wherever ye find them, and drive them out of the places whence they drove you out, for persecution is worse than slaughter. And fight not with them at the Inviolable Place of Worship until they first attack you there, but if they attack you (there) then slay them. Such is the reward of disbelievers.”

  The Controller had been studying for about an hour when his special cell phone rang. He picked up without answering, waiting for the code and password.

  “Code 7865, Password Eagle,” the Russian Godfather said.

  “I have important information for you,” Nevsky said. “The traitor has revealed himself in order to save the Senator’s daughter, who we had in captivity.”

  “Explain yourself,” the Controller said.

  “We captured the girl on the Cruise ship, and she was placed in the hands of Ivan Dubov, my Brigadier in Chicago. You have spoken to him before. He decided to give her to me as a personal show of loyalty. While being transferred to me here in New York, his driver, a black man they called Sonny, attacked his courier and took the girl. Two Mexican agents assisted him. Dubov has assured me that the man was not in a position to know any of our plans. I am pleased to report to you that none of our plans have been compromised.”

  “Are you sure that you can completely trust Dubov?”

  “Completely, he knows that if he deceives me in any way, he and his family will be tortured and destroyed.”

  “We are near the day when our plans will be executed,” the Controller replied. “Stay diligent and you will receive your power and rewards. I also want to inform you about a very positive development. I have been appointed to a position of power, so when our Master Plan is implemented, I will be accepted as the leader of the country even before the elections. It is probable that the back-up plan will not be necessary. I need you to eliminate one additional man in the government, Harold Stancil, the FBI Director. He is a danger to our success.”

  “I’ll need Dubov’s help is setting up the hit,” Nevsky replied. “He handles these things for us. I have sent my best assassin to work with him.”

  “I understand, just tell him only what is necessary to complete the hit.”

  When the conversation ended, he made a quick call to the Organizer. Afterward the Controller wrapped the phone in a towel, beat it into pieces with a hammer, and threw part of it in the trash and flushed the rest.

  The Controller, through the use of throwaway phones, and refusing to meet anyone in person, had successfully hidden his true identity. His ISIS comrades and the Russian Mafia merely knew the name “The Controller.” Only one person, other than the Organizer, knew his name and his position in government. That person was Rita and he knew that at some point he would be required to kill her.

  He smiled at the thought as he went back to reading the Quran.

  Quran 5:33, “The only reward of those who make war upon Allah and His messenger and strive after corruption in the land will be that they will be killed or crucified, or have their hands and feet on alternate sides cut off, or will be expelled out of the land. Such will be their degradation in the world, and in the Hereafter theirs will be an awful doom.”

  “The United States of America will soon feel the wrath of Allah,” he said aloud.

  Chapter 39

  Macy noticed Stugess gaping at her. He looked away when she returned his stare. He’s going to be trouble, she thought. “I’ll deal with him later,” she said under her breath.

  Macy went into the house, dripping water all the way to the downstairs bathroom. She was thoroughly soaked from the heavy rain. She undressed completely and hung her wet clothes and underwear
on the shower rod. Grabbing a towel from the linen closet, she wrapped it around her naked body and walked out to go to her upstairs bedroom.

  Dubov was coming from the study with the phone to his ear talking loudly. “I tell you Sonny knew nothing. He was never in a position to hear anything about our plans for the nuclear bomb. No one here knows that but me. Has it been moved to Washington yet?”

  Macy stood frozen. She could not hear the answer, but this was shocking new information. She knew that she had to find out more immediately.

  Dubov saw her standing there, and retreated to the study. Macy remained outside the door waiting. Five minutes later, he returned. Macy went to him and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I was so afraid that Sonny would kill me, and I would never see you again.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Baby, I will never let anything happen to you,” Dubov replied. He took a deep breath felling the softness of Macy’s breasts against his chest. She felt his arousal and stepped back, allowing the towel to drop from her body.

  Dubov gazed at the most perfect body he had ever seen. He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and bounded up the stairs. Her bedroom door was open. He entered and threw her body on the bed. He stepped back and ripped off his clothes.

  Macy grimaced as she pretended to get pleasure from his brute lovemaking. When it was over, he lay breathing hard beside her. She knew that this was his most vulnerable time.

  “Ivan, you are so powerful, and you make me feel wonderful,” she whispered. “I want to be by your side when you take over.”

  Dubov squeezed her breast. “Honey very soon we will be in power in this country. My comrades and I have a plan to overthrow the United States Government. Powerful people inside the government have provided us with the opportunity. The coup will be absolute. We have a leader in the highest levels of Government. I don’t know his name, but even thought he’s tried to hide it from Nevsky, the Godfather knows who he is.”

  “Darling how long do I have to wait?” Macy purred.

  “Be patient, January is the month that the world will remember forever.”

  Macy felt a cold chill go down her spine. “Where and how will you do this dear?” she said, rubbing his chest.

  “Enough talk about that. I want you again.”

  Macy braced herself. At least I have a date and confirmation that someone in the power structure of the government is involved, she thought.

  As Dubov mounted her again, her mind was far away, attempting to block his aggression from her mind.

  Chapter 40

  About two hours after departing the Island, I shut down the engines. The scorching sun had dehydrated me. I went to the cabin and drank two glasses of ice water.

  I went to the bathroom and stood looking at myself in the mirror. My skin was a dark shade of brown from the exposure to the sun on the island. Not having shaved since the morning before I was thrown off the ship, my beard had grown and covered the entirety of my face below the nose. Small streaks of gray invaded the black hair on my beard and hair. I would have never recognized myself. This strange man looking back at me in the mirror was not the man who existed before the ordeal. I pulled the cell phone from my pocket, but it indicated no service.

  I went back to the helm and cranked the engines. The gas tank showed a little over a half a tank. I steered the boat west for another two hours, figuring I had traveled about a hundred miles. The fuel tank was dangerously close to empty when I spotted land.

  Nearing land, I observed numerous large pleasure boats tied to the docks in what appeared to be a marina.

  I stopped and tried the cell phone again. It showed service available so I pushed in my wife’s number. After eight rings it went to voice mail.

  “This is Susan Roberts. I’m not available. Leave a message.”

  “Susan this is Michael. I don’t know what to say. I am alive. Call me and I’ll explain. I love you.”

  I checked, gave her the number of the cell and then punched in the number for Lisa. I got the same results. I left her the identical message.

  I piloted the boat forward looking for a vacant slip. A large sign read, Poet Ferdinand Luxury Marina, Barbados.

  I knew that Barbados was a West Indian island in the Caribbean. I was coming in on the west coast, and the waters were calm. I also knew that Barbados was a commonwealth of the United Kingdom, but had an independent government.

  I steered the boat into a vacant slip beside a magnificent fifty-foot blue vessel, tied it to the posts, and walked out on the pier.

  In this early morning hour, no one was around. Having been under the extreme pressures of survival on the island, I hadn’t noticed the beauty of the sunrises. I stopped for a moment watching the sunrise in the east, amid a dazzling rose colored hue. The sky was crystal clear. I felt lucky to be alive.

  I checked the phone and still had service. Since there was no answer from Susan or Lisa, I decided to call my Assistant in the Senate office. Brenda Cummings had been my right hand for ten years. Before I go to the police station in Barbados, I wanted to call her to tell her that I’m safe. She can inform the authorities and the press in the US.

  I knew it was early, but Brenda was an early riser and was usually in the office by seven am. In the past I called her cell a hundred times and had the number easily in my memory. I punched in the number and waited.

  “Hello,” Brenda’s familiar voice answered.

  “Brenda, This is Michael.” I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

  “Is it really you Michael? I can’t believe it.” She broke down and I heard sobs. She was crying and unable to catch her breath.

  “Wait, Brenda, just calm down and breathe and I’ll tell you all about what I’ve been through. I’m extremely worried about Susan and Lisa and haven’t been able to reach them. Do you know if there’re okay?”

  “Oh Michael, the authorities said that you were dead. The FBI and the Washington DC police have been here several times. They took your computer, and went through all your papers, both personal and official. They searched your home here and in Houston. The press hounded us every day.”

  I was astonished. “Why on earth would they do that?”

  “Michael, I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s so horrible.”

  “Just get your breath, calm down and tell me please Brenda.”

  “It’s been all over the news, TV, press, and internet. Oh Michael.” She burst out crying again. I closed my eyes trying to remain calm. Something was horribly wrong.

  “Please just calm down Brenda and tell me.”

  A few torturous moments later, I heard her breathing return to near normal. Her voice was shaking when she began speaking.

  “Michael, they said that you killed Susan after a fight over another woman. They reported that both of you were taking some sort of hallucinatory drug and you stabbed her. According to all the press reports, you committed suicide by jumping off the ship after committing the crime. They never found your body, and assumed you were washed out to sea. Lisa is also missing and the speculation is that you took her with you when you jumped. I knew it was a lie, but the FBI and a spokesman for the cruise line confirmed the stories in the press.”

  I felt the breath leave my body. I dropped the phone and attempted to steady myself. My head was pounding and I dropped to the wooden pier. The shock was too much to endure.

  My world went to black.

  I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I awoke I was lying on a large bed on black silk sheets. A soft pillow was under my head and a cold towel on my forehead. I tried to sit up, but dizziness drove me back down. My head was pounding and I reached for the source of the pain. There was a knot on the back of my head. I must have fainted and banged my head on the pier when I fell. The news of Susan’s death and Lisa’s disappearance was simply more than my brain could absorb.

  Brenda’s news flashed back in my mind, and I was overwhelmed again. My wife’s dead, my daugh
ter’s missing and they believed that I was a murderer. It was almost too much to handle. I did my best to clear my head. Maybe it was all a mistake and the call to Brenda was a dream. I hope to God so.

  I attempted to sit up, and this time made it. Looking around, I realized that I was in the luxurious bedroom of a Yacht. In front of the king-sized bed was a console containing a 56-inch flat screen TV. The base of the bed was white leather and white leather designer chairs were on each side. There was a glass and stainless steel bar on the left wall. A round mirror framed in white leather hung over the bed.

  I had no ideal how I got here. I heard a noise and looked toward the door.

  When she walked into the room, I hardly believed that I was awake. The woman entering was breathtaking. She was wearing a white bikini with a lace cover-up. She had a sculpted figure, which was vine thin. Her waist was tapered and she had burnished complexion, tanned by the Caribbean sun. The pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her ears framed a button nose. She smiled at me while she blew gently on her fingernails, which apparently she had recently polished. She had flowing moon shadow black hair. Her enticing blue eyes gazed at me and I simply didn’t know if I was sleeping or awake.

  “So you are conscious,” she said with no accent at all. “You fell and hit your head on a large bolt on the pier. How do you feel?”

  “Much better,” I said, and attempted to get to my feet. I was successful but was still a bit dizzy. “Who are you?”

  “Maria Debue, my father brought you in here after your fall. He secured your boat. You only had a bump on the head so we didn’t call a doctor. There are none available this time of day anyway,” she said, and laughed. “What are you doing here?”

  I knew that this was not the time to get into the details of my story. “Did you see my cell phone?”

  “Yes,” she said, walked to the bar area and picked it up from the end table.